old-time nautical instruments by john robinson [illustration] boston, massachusetts 1921 one hundred copies deprinted from old-time new england april, 1921 [illustration: ship grand turk, 1786] old-time nautical instruments by john robinson _curator of the marine room, peabody museum, salem, mass._ what sort of instruments did the colonial ship-masters carry? what did they have on the _mayflower_? what did columbus use? and, to come down to comparatively recent times, what instruments were available and were actually used on the vessels during the commercial-marine activities following the american revolution and up to the time of the appearance of steamships? these questions are often asked, not only by landsmen but by seafaring men as well. the ship-master of today uses instruments so different from those of colonial times, or even of the earlier years of the nineteenth century, that unless he has a penchant for research he knows nothing about the earlier ones and certainly not how to use them if by chance they come to his notice. holding in his hand a davis quadrant, the skilful navigator of salem's last square-rigger, the ship _mindoro_, which passed out of service in 1897, said to the writer:--"i have no idea how to use it and i do not believe that there is a ship-master sailing out of boston today who does." the davis quadrant was in common use all through the eighteenth century and probably later. it is figured and explained in a book on navigation in 1796. there are two in the peabody museum collection in salem, dated respectively, 1768 and 1773, and an undated one in the collection is certainly older. only the student of the history of navigation can explain them or their uses. the english navigator, john davis, the inventor of this quadrant, in his "seaman's secrets", printed in 1594, gives a list of instruments which should be taken on ships, but it is to be feared few vessels carried them all or that owners were able to provide them. it included,--sea-compass, cross-staff, chart, quadrant, astrolabe, instrument to test compass variation, horizontal plane sphere, and paradoxical compass. [illustration: sixteenth century spanish astrolabe full size. from museum of fine arts, boston.] [illustration: universal ring-dial diameter 3-1/2 inches. owned by mr. parker kemble.] no one knows exactly what instruments columbus took with him on his voyage in 1492. he undoubtedly had an astrolabe and a cross-staff. the astrolabe was devised during the first millennium and arabian astronomers had perfected it as early as the year 700. it is really the basis of all future instruments of its class,--cross-staff, quadrant, sextant. some of the most beautiful astrolabes preserved in museums are those made for the persian astronomers in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. columbus probably used the form devised by martin behaim which had been adapted for use at sea about the year 1480. observations with the astrolabe required three persons, one to hold the instrument plumb by the ring, another to sight the sun and adjust the arm, and the third to read the scale. with these difficulties observations were, of course, far from accurate, but approximate time and latitude could be obtained. another device was the ring-dial, or universal ring-dial as the old works on navigation called it. this differed from the astrolabe by having adjustable rings with the hours and scales engraved upon them. both of these instruments are now rare. no original cross-staff is known to the writer in any collection in this country. it consisted of a rod thirty-six inches long on which another of twenty-six inches was centered and arranged to slide up and down at right angles to it. by sighting from the end of the longer rod and moving the sliding bar until the sun was seen at one end of it and the horizon at the other, the figure on the scale at the junction of the rods indicated the sun's altitude and from this the latitude was obtained. [illustration: seventeenth century mariner using a cross-staff from seller's "practical navigation," london, 1676] [illustration: seventeenth century mariner using davis' quadrant from seller's "practical navigation," london, 1676] based on this instrument, by laying out the circle on a table, john davis, the explorer, devised his quadrant in 1586. at first the observer used it by facing the sun, as the cross-staff had been used, but a better form was made later where the observer had the sun at his back. this instrument has been called by sailors "jackass quadrant" and, supposedly from its shape, "hog-yoke." in early books on navigation it is called "sea-quadrant." the earlier form used by the observer standing back to the sun had a solid "shade vane" which slid along the smaller arc of the instrument. by adjusting this a little short of the supposed altitude of the sun and sighting the horizon through the minute hole in the "sight vane" until it was seen through the "horizon vane" at the apex of the instrument, and then gradually moving the "sight vane" along the larger arc until the shadow of the "shade vane" met the horizon line, the sum of the degrees on the two scales indicated the sun's altitude. this was really the second form of the davis quadrant. in the third, the solid "shade vane" was replaced by one with a low-power lens inserted in it arranged to focus on the "horizon vane," thus approaching the idea of the reflected sun in the hadley quadrant and the sextant. a most interesting instrument, half-way between a cross-staff and the davis quadrant, is illustrated in seller's book on navigation published in 1676. he calls it a "plough." above, it has the small arc of the davis quadrant with the sliding rod of the cross-staff below. these were, of course, imperfect instruments, but still a great advance over previous devices to obtain time and latitude. [illustration: sect. iii. the description and use of the plough. _the description of the plough._ this instrument was antiently in use amonght mariners, although at this day it is not so commonly used as formerly; it consists of a staff having a small arch, and three vanes. _the figure of the plough._ the staff is about two foot and a half long, or three foot at the most; at the center-end of which is erected a small arch, that is divided into 85 degrees; on the side of the staff are set off the graduations proper to the plough, beginning at five or six degrees, and encreasing to ten degrees towards the arch, every degree being divided into single minutes. the vanes are a _horizon-vane_, as a, and _shadow-vane_, as b, (to be used as in the quadrant) and a _sight-vane_ moving upon the staff, as at c. page from "practical navigation," by john sellers, london, 1676] [illustration: davis quadrant "made by william williams in king st. boston." an ivory plate has "malachi allen 1769." mahogany, 24 inches long, convex glass in the shade vane; fine example of cabinet work. in peabody museum, salem.] the davis quadrants are usually made of ebony, rosewood, or other dark woods, with boxwood scale arcs and could be made by expert wood-workers. the numerous examples preserved attest the skill of the old cabinet-makers, for they are never warped or twisted while their jointing is a chinese puzzle. probably the _mayflower_ carried a davis quadrant and quite likely an astrolabe, and of course, a compass, for the compass had been in use for two centuries. whether the compass was independently invented in europe or was borrowed from the chinese is uncertain. the old marine compasses were set in gimbals. the magnet was a thin bar attached, usually with sealing wax, to the under side of the compass card, the whole mounted in a thin bowl of turned wood. these were the compasses of the eighteenth century. there is one in the salem collection inscribed,--"benjamin king salem in new england", with the date "1770" cut in the box; another has the mark of benjamin king, 1790. a surveyor's compass, wooden throughout, including wooden sights, is inscribed,--"made by james halsey near ye draw bridge boston." the liquid compass first suggested by francis crow in 1813 and improved by e. s. ritchie of boston, has largely displaced the older devices. the "nocturnal", used at night, as its name signifies, appeared at an early date, exactly when it does not seem possible to say. one in the salem collection is marked,--"nathaniel viall 1724". by adjusting the movable discs to the date on the scale for the day of the month, sighting the north star through the hole in the center and then bringing the arm against the "guard stars", the hour was indicated with reasonable accuracy. good pictures and descriptions of the nocturnal may be found in old books on navigation. in 1730, john hadley in england and thomas godfrey in philadelphia, independently invented the octant, known for nearly two hundred years as hadley's quadrant. both hadley and godfrey received awards for their devices. although called quadrant in this country it is generally known elsewhere as octant, which is the better name, for the instrument represents but one eighth of the circle. by the principle of reflection, however, it covers ninety degrees and the scale is so marked. the davis quadrant with its two arcs does represent one fourth of the circle and for that instrument the name is correct. the hadley was a great improvement over the davis quadrant and other older devices for finding latitude. by moving the arm the sun is reflected by the mirror at the apex and "brought down" to the horizon line and the eye is protected by colored glasses of various degrees of density through which the sun's rays shine. catching the sun the instant it is on the meridian (noon), the scale indicates the altitude by which the latitude was figured with the bowditch navigator, used for more than one hundred years by american seamen, or moore's before that and numerous others back to the early eighteenth century. the hadley quadrant is still used in its modern form with telescopic eye-pieces although the sextant--one-sixth of the circle and by reflection one-third--is a more accurate instrument and also may be used to make lunar observations to obtain longitude, a complicated and difficult matter, so difficult that the authors of the older works did not even take trouble to explain the process, for only the most expert could make this observation, nor were the results satisfactory. the sextant was devised about 1757 and as now made is framed wholly of metal. to prevent corrosion, the scale, which is minutely divided, and has a "vernier" with a magnifying glass to show divisions of minutes, is made of gold or platinum in the best instruments. a half-circle has been devised and is exceedingly rare. an example in the salem collection was made before 1818. a curious double-jointed dividers accompanied it and the entry in the museum catalog reads,--"used to correct a lunar observation for longitude." a full "circle of reflection" is also sometimes used, more often on land than at sea. this is a beautiful instrument and is not often met with in collections or in use. all of these instruments are similar in character and may be traced, as previously stated, to the ancestral astrolabe. [illustration: nocturnal "nath'll viall 1724." boxwood, arm seven inches from centre to tip. in peabody museum, salem.] the early hadley quadrants were huge affairs made of wood with an arm twenty-four inches in length. today they are more generally of metal with arms from ten to twelve inches. using the sextent or hadley quadrant the observer stands facing the sun, but old hadley quadrants were made with a "back sight" so that they could be used like the davis quadrant, thus making two independent observations the average of which would ensure greater accuracy. [illustration: hadley quadrants (octants) in peabody museum, salem 1. "made by john dupee 1755 for patrick montgomerie." all wood, ebony, arm 22 inches long. 2. "made by ino. gilbert on tower hill london for hector orr augt. 6, 1768." ebony, arm 20 inches long. 3. "norie & co. london." ebony and brass, _ca._ 1840. arm 11-3/4 inches, telescopic eyepieces, used by capt. john hodges. 4. "spencer browning and rust london." ebony frame, brass arm 17 inches, ivory scale, pencil inserted in cross piece, _ca._ 1800, used by capt. henry king. 5. "j: urings london." all brass, arm 20 inches, back sight broken off, _ca._ 1780, rare.] to obtain the ship's latitude with comparatively good results was an easy matter with the quadrant and its fore-runners, but the great problem for centuries was how to find the longitude, now universally and quickly obtained by the chronometer and simple observations in the morning or at noon. spring clocks and watches appeared about 1530 but they were unreliable and of no use on long voyages. sand glasses like those of the old colonial churches were used on ships and so conservative is the british mind that some were in use on british naval vessels as late as 1828 and one authority states as late as 1839. greenwich observatory was established in 1675 and a royal commission was soon appointed with authority to award prizes for important inventions in aid of navigation. a prize of £20,000 was finally offered for a time-keeper that should meet certain requirements which practically meant absolute accuracy. in 1767, john harrison produced the chronometer, based on the principle of an invention of 1735, and eventually he received the reward. chronometers were so expensive and so hard to obtain that few new england ships had them until more than a half a century later. other devices were tried to obtain longitude by lunar observations and by jupiter's satellites, but these observations were too difficult to be of practical use. today, fine watches serve for short trips and chronometers are carried by nearly all vessels making long voyages. that so important an instrument as a telescope or spy-glass is rarely mentioned in books on navigation or in sea journals seems strange. it is exceedingly difficult to obtain information of any being taken to sea, although one would think a spy-glass would be about the first aid on ship-board especially when skirting the coast. telescopes did not become of practical use, even if the principle had been known, until they were made in holland in 1608. it is at least certain that columbus did not have one and probably there was none on the _mayflower_, although its passengers had recently come from holland where telescopes were invented a few years before. so far no references to them have been found in a rather casual examination of old log-books. in the marine room collection of the peabody museum at salem, is a spy-glass four feet long, octagonal in form, two and one-half inches in diameter, with a short focusing tube. it was taken from a british prize vessel off the coast of ireland, in 1779, by capt. james barr in his salem privateer. another glass of similar form, but longer and with a mahogany case, was used on a united states naval vessel about 1815. the spy-glass, familiar to everyone, in two or three sections, was used at sea through the first half of the nineteenth century and is often seen tucked under the left arm, in the portraits of ship-masters brought home from foreign ports. many of these were excellent instruments, especially those from dollond of london. there is also in the salem collection a rude telescope or spy-glass five and one-half feet long with a copper case about three inches in diameter looking precisely like a section from a house water-conductor. it focuses by a small upper sliding section, fitted like a stove funnel. this glass was brought from nagasaki, japan, by a salem ship-master about 1865. it had been used there to observe vessels coming into the harbor. it may be dutch and it is evidently very old. [illustration: sextants in peabody museum, salem 1. "bradford london." brass frame and silver scale arm 14 inches long, _ca._ 1815, used by capt. george bailey before 1840. 2. "l. bleuler, london." ebony frame, ivory scale, brass arm 14 inches long, _ca._ 1820, came from plymouth, mass. 3. "g. gowland 76 castle st. liverpool." used by david livingstone in his african explorations and after his death sold at zanzibar by order of the royal geographical society and bought by capt. william beadle, of salem, and used on some of his voyages.] the speed of a vessel was first obtained by throwing overboard a floating subject at the bow and noting the time elapsed when it passed an observer at the stern. from this the log line with "knots" was derived, with the fourteen and twenty-eight seconds sand glasses to record speed. a "knot" indicates a geographical or sea mile which has been standardized at 6080 feet; the land or statute mile is 5280 feet, therefore, if a vessel is said to be sailing at the rate of thirteen knots, a railroad train going at the same speed would be running at the rate of fifteen miles an hour. the term "knot" is used solely to indicate rate of speed; the distance covered is always stated in nautical or sea miles. "heaving the log" meant throwing out from the stern of a vessel a small float attached to a line running from a reel held clear of the rail, the float remaining stationary in the water. at the instant the log is "heaved" a sand glass is turned. on the line are knots (hence the term), pieces of marline or rags tied through the strands and spaced the same fraction of a mile apart,--above forty-six feet and six inches,--which twenty-eight seconds is the fraction of an hour,--about one one-hundred and twenty-eighth. therefore, using a twenty-eight seconds glass and checking the line the instant the sand runs out, the number of knots and fractions paid out on the line will at once indicate the number of sea miles per hour which the vessel is going. this, of course, is doubled if the fourteen-seconds glass is used, which is done when the vessel is going very fast. the old log lines have been superseded by many forms of the "patent log" and the museum is indeed fortunate which possesses an original log line, reel and float in perfect condition. there is an excellent example in the museum collections of the marblehead historical society. once discarded, the lines were soon used to tie up packages and the reels and floats were thrown away. the patent log with its revolving blades, now universal, was devised by humfray cole in 1578; it was improved by various persons from time to time but, strange to say, did not come into general use for nearly three centuries. the rotating blades in the water record the rate on an indicator on the vessel which may be read at any time. so far, the earliest reference to the use of a device of this sort among our new england navigators is the "gould's patent log" used by captain george crowninshield on his famous yacht _cleopatra's barge_ during the voyage to the mediterranean in 1817. charts were made in very ancient times but they were crude and almost useless. the first nautical maps appeared in italy at the end of the thirteenth century, and it is said that bartholomew columbus brought the first one to england in 1489. the close of the sixteenth century saw many map makers at work, including gerard mercator whose name is perpetuated in the familiar scale charts in our geographies known as "mercator's projection" which were the sea charts in general use. globes were carried on ships in preference to charts in the early days and what is known as "great circle" sailing was evolved from them. davis describes it in 1594 and it is possible that cabot knew of the theory a century before. such a simple instrument as a parallel ruler was not invented until late in the sixteenth century and tables of logarithms and gunter's scale by which navigators make all their calculations were not known until the year the _mayflower_ sailed. during the first century following the settlement of new england it is probable that the small coasting and fishing vessels were navigated by dead reckoning and not venturing far beyond the sight of land a compass was the only instrument carried. but the larger vessels sailing from boston, salem, portsmouth, newport and other ports on voyages to the west indies, england and spain, it would seem should have carried instruments with which observations could be made to obtain their approximate position. mr. george francis dow has searched the early probate records of essex county coast towns between 1634 and 1680, a period of nearly fifty years, and finds but thirteen references to nautical instruments in inventories and wills. sometimes they are listed as "marriners instruments" and in one case a quadrant is valued at £1. robert gray of salem, who died in 1661, possessed a "quadrant, a fore-staffe (cross-staff), a gunter's scale, and a pair of compasses." john bradstreet, who died at marblehead the previous year, owned "3 small sea books" valued at £1. 6s. the inventory of the estate of jonathan browne of salem, who died in 1667, discloses a "fore-staff," and that of the estate of john silsby of salem, taken in 1676, lists "marriners instruments and callender, 14s." in a very detailed inventory made in salem before a notary publick on nov. 4, 1702, of the equipment of the ship _province galley_, 90 tons, owned by roger derby, the only instruments for navigation that appear are "two compasses, two ha[lf] ho[ur] glasses, a ha[lf] watchglass, a ha[lf] minute glass ... a hand lead line, a deep sea lead line." the _boston news-letter_, july 16, 1716, has the following advertisement: "a parcel of mathematical instruments, viz: quadrants, meridian compasses, all sorts of rules, black lead pencils, and brass ring dials, etc. to be sold by publick vendue at the crown coffee house in king's street, boston, on thursday next." the same issue has the advertisement of "william walker in merchants row, near the swing bridge," who had quadrants for sale. in looking back and noting the slow process of perfecting all nautical instruments, the wonder is how the old ships were navigated through distant seas without greater loss of life and vessels. the dangers were real during our commercial-marine activities following the period of the revolution and the early nineteenth century, as attested by reference to old newspapers and letters, and to such records as the diary of rev. william bentley of salem, where nearly every sunday some of his parishioners asked for prayers for friends at sea or for the loss of husband, son or brother. the shipmasters of salem, boston, providence, new york and baltimore, undertaking distant voyages, had few good charts--none for the new regions they visited--they had no chronometers, few had sextants, and their compasses were frequently unreliable. and yet these men--most of them were scarcely past their majority in years--with the courage and enthusiasm of youth, in ships filled with valuable cargoes, entrusted to their care by wealthy owners, sailed into uncharted seas, visited unknown lands, and, all the while rarely reported, finally came safely back, to their everlasting credit and the enrichment of the country. we do not know exactly what instruments the old shipmasters carried with them on these voyages, but we do know that they were comparatively few and very inferior to those in use today. an idea of the paucity in some instances may be obtained from the story of the ship _hannah_, condemned at christiansand in 1810, in the protest of american shipmasters which is now preserved in the new haven historical society collections. it reads: "we, the undersigned masters of american vessels now in the port of christiansand, having heard with astonishment that one of the principal charges against the american brig _hannah_, from boston, bound direct to riga, and condemned at the prize court at this place, is as follows,--that the said court have pronounced it absolutely impossible to cross the atlantic without a chart or sextant. we therefore feel fully authorized to assert that we have frequently made voyages from america without the above articles, and we are fully persuaded that every seaman with common nautical knowledge can do the same." no doubt many valuable data lie hidden in old log-books and sea journals, early newspaper files, shipping records of old business houses and elsewhere. to anyone with time and the inclination for research a fascinating field is open where material of historical and scientific value may be found. the writer is not aware that any such investigations have been made or accounts of any published. accurate knowledge of the instruments carried by colonial shipmasters on their voyages to the west indies or along our coast and across the atlantic would be of much interest, and still more to know what were supplied by owners or carried as their personal property by masters and supercargoes for the longer voyages to russia, the mediterranean, africa, india, china, and the south seas. it would be interesting to know, besides this, what had been their experiences with them: the accuracy of observations, how the compass behaved, etc. the early nineteenth century shipmasters were close observers, and in his works on navigation lieut. m. f. maury pays them high compliment for the valuable assistance rendered in furnishing notes and observations on currents, shoals, coast lines, compass variations and winds, for the charts and sailing directions which he compiled. with these things in mind this paper has been prepared, hoping that someone may be encouraged to take up the work systematically. it is a subject which seems to have been neglected, and the results certainly will repay much time devoted to its investigation. [illustration: schooner baltick, capt. edward allen coming out of st. eustatia, nov. 16, 1765] images generously made available by early canadiana online (http://www.canadiana.org/)) note: images of the original pages are available through early candiana online. see http://www.canadiana.org/eco/itemrecord/68246?id=6575f86ccff5dee3 +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | transcriber's note: | | | | this is a very old document which contains inconsistent and | | unusual spelling. while most of the unusual spelling has | | been preserved, a number of obvious typographical errors | | have been corrected. for a complete list, please see the | | end of this document. | | | | the illustration mentioned on the frontispiece has been | | lost. | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ directions for navigating on part of the south coast of newfoundland, with a chart thereof, including the islands of st. peter's and miquelon, and a particular account of the bays, harbours, rocks, land-marks, depths of water, latitudes, bearings, and distances from place to place, the setting of the currents, and flowing of the tides, _&c._ from an actual survey, taken by order of commodore pallisser, governor of _newfoundland_, _labradore_, &c. by james cook, surveyor of _newfoundland_. london: printed for the author, and sold by j. mount and t. page on _tower-hill_, m,dcc,lxvi. [illustration] directions for navigating on part of the south coast of _newfoundland_. n.b. _all bearings and courses hereafter-mentioned, are the true bearings and courses, and not by compass._ [sidenote: cape chapeaurouge.] cape _chapeaurouge_, or the mountain of the _red hat_, is situated on the west side of _placentia bay_, in the latitude of 46° 53' north, and lies nearly west 17 or 18 leagues from cape st. _maries_; it is the highest and most remarkable land on that part of the coast, appearing above the rest something like the crown of a hat, and may be seen in clear weather 12 leagues. [sidenote: harbours of st. laurence] close to the eastward of cape _chapeaurouge_ are the harbours of _great_ and _little st. laurence_. to sail into _great st. lawrence_, which is the westermost, there is no danger but what lies very near the shore; taking care with westerly, and particularly s.w. winds, not to come too near the _hat mountain_, to avoid the flerrys and eddy winds under the high land. the course in is first n.w. till you open the upper part of the harbour, then n.n.w. half w. the best place for great ships to anchor, and the best ground is before a cove on the east-side of the harbour in 13 fathom water. a little above _blue beach point_, which is the first point on the west-side; here you lie only two points open: you may anchor any where between this point and the point of _low beach_, on the same side near the head of the harbour, observing that close to the west shore, the ground is not so good as on the other side. fishing vessels lay at the head of the harbour above the beach, sheltered from all winds. to sail into _little st. laurence_ you must keep the west shore on board, in order to avoid a sunken rock which lies a little without the point of the _peninsula_, which stretches off from the east-side of the harbour: you anchor above this _peninsula_, (which covers you from the sea winds) in 3 and 4 fathom water, a fine sandy bottom. in these harbours are good fishing conveniencies, and plenty of wood and water. ships may anchor without the _peninsula_ in 12 fathom good ground, but open to the s.s.e. winds. [sidenote: sauker head.] _sauker-head_ lies 3 miles to the eastward of cape _chapeaurouge_, it is a pretty high round point, off which lie some sunken rocks, about a cable's length from the shore. [sidenote: garden bank] this bank whereon is from 7 to 17 fathom water, lies about half a mile off from _little st. laurence_, with _blue beach point_ on with the east point of _great st. laurence_. [sidenote: ferryland head.] _ferryland head_ lies s.w. 1 mile from cape _chapeaurouge_, it is a high rocky island, just seperated from the main; it and cape _chapeaurouge_ are sufficient marks to know the harbours of st. _laurence_. [sidenote: bay of laun.] west 5 miles from _ferryland-head_, lies the bay of _laun_, in the bottom of which are two small inlets, called _great_ and _little laun_. _little laun_, which is the eastermost, lies open to the s.w. winds, which generally prevails upon this coast, and therefore no place to anchor in. _great laun_ lies in about n. by e. 2 miles, is near half a mile wide, whereon is from 14 to 3 fathom water. to sail into it, you must be careful to avoid a sunken rock, which lies about a quarter of a mile off from the east point. the best place to anchor is on the east-side, about half a mile from the head, in 6 and 5 fathom; the bottom is pretty good, and you are shelter'd from all winds, except s. and s. by w. which blow right in, and cause a great swell. at the head of this place is a bar harbour, into which boats can go at half tide; and conveniences for a fishery, and plenty of wood and water. [sidenote: laun islands.] off the west point of _laun bay_ lay the islands of the same name, not far from the shore; the westermost and outermost of which lie w. southerly 10 miles from _ferryland-head_; near a quarter of a mile to the southward of this island is a rock whereon the sea breaks in very bad weather: there are other sunken rocks about these islands, but they are no ways dangerous, being very near the shore. [sidenote: taylor's bay.] this bay which lies open to the sea, lies 3 miles to the westward of _laun_ islands; off the east point are some sunken rocks near a quarter of a mile from the shore. [sidenote: point aux gaul.] a little to the westward of _taylors bay_ there stretches out a low point of land, called _point aux gaul_; off which lies a rock above water, half a mile from the shore, called _gaul shag rock_; this rock lies west three quarters south 5 leagues from _ferryland-head_, you have 14 fathom close to the off side of it, but between it and the point are some sunken rocks. [sidenote: lamelin bay.] from _point aux gaul shag rock_, to the islands of _lamelin_ is west three quarters n. 1 league, between them is the bay of _lamelin_, wherein is very shallow water, and several small islands, and rocks both above and under water, and in the bottom of it is a salmon river. [sidenote: lamelin islands.] the two islands of _lamelin_ (which are but low) lie off the west point of the bay of the same name, and lie west three quarters south, 6 leagues from the mountain of the _red hat_; but in steering along shore make a w. by s. course good, will carry you clear of all danger. small vessels may anchor in the road between these islands in 4 and 5 fathom, tolerably well shelter'd from the weather: nearly in the middle of the passage going in between the two islands, is a sunken rock, which you avoid by keeping nearer to one side than the other, the most room is on the east-side. the eastermost island communicates with the main at low-water, by a narrow beach, over which boats can go at high-water, into the n.w. arm of _lamelin bay_, where they lay in safety. here are conveniences for a fishery, but little or no wood of any sort. near to the south point of the westermost island is a rock pretty high above water, called _lamelin shag rock_; in going into the road between the islands, you leave this rock on your larboard side. [sidenote: lamelin ledges.] these ledges lay along the shore, between _lamelin islands_ and _point may_, which is 3 leagues, and are very dangerous, some of them being 3 miles from the land. to avoid these ledges in the day-time, you must not bring the islands of _lamelin_ to the southward of east, until _point may_, or the western extremity of the land bear n. by e. from you; you may then steer to the northward with safety, between _point may_ and _green island_. in the night, or foggy weather, you ought to be very careful not to approach these ledges within 30 fathom water, least you get intangled amongst them. between them and the main are various soundings from 16 to 5 fathom. [sidenote: observations.] all the land about cape _chapeaurouge_ and _laun_, is high and hilly close to the sea; from _laun islands_ to _lamelin_ it is of a moderate height; from _lamelin_ to _point may_, the land near the shore is very low, with sandy beaches, but a little way inland are mountains. [sidenote: island of st. peter's.] the island of st. _peter_'s lies in the latitude 46 degrees 46 minutes north. west by south near 12 leagues from cape _chapeaurouge_, and west by south half south 5 leagues from the islands of _lamelin_; it is about 5 leagues in circuit, and pretty high, with a craggy, broken, uneven surface. coming from the westward, as soon as you raise _gallantry head_, which is the south point of the island, it will make in a round hommock like a small island and appears if seperated from st. _peter_'s. on the east-side of the island, a little to the n.e. of _gallentry-head_ lay three small islands, the innermost of which is the largest, called _dog-island_; within this island is the road and harbour of st. _peter_'s; the harbour is but small, and hath in it from 12 to 20 feet water; but there is a bar across the entrance, whereon there is but 6 feet at low-water, and 12 or 14 feet at high-water. the road which lies on the n.w. side of _dog-island_ will admit ships of any burthen, but it is only fit for the summer season, being open to the n.e. winds; you may lay in 8, 10, and 12 fathom, and for the most part is a hard rocky bottom, there is very little clear ground; ships of war commonly buoy their cables; the best ground is near the north shore. going in or out, you must not rainge too near the east-side of _boar-island_, which is the eastermost of the three islands above-mentioned, for fear of some sunken rocks which lie east about 1 mile from it, and which is the only danger about st. _peter_'s, but what lay very near the shore. [sidenote: island of columbo.] this island is of a small circuit, but pretty high, and lies very near the n.e. point of st. _peter_'s; between them is a very good passage, one-third of a mile wide, wherein is 12 fathom water. on the north-side of the island is a rock pretty high above water, called _little columbo_; and about a quarter of a mile n.e. from this rock is a sunken rock, whereon is 2 fathom water. [sidenote: island of langley.] the island of _langley_, which lies on the n.w. side of st. _peter_'s, is about 8 leagues in circuit, of a moderate and pretty equal height, except the n. end, wich is a low point with sand hills along it; it is flat a little way off the low land on both sides of it, but all the high part of the island is very bold too, and the passage between it and st. _peter_'s (which is 1 league broad) is clear of danger. you may anchor on the n.e. side of the island, a little to the southward of the _sand hills_, in 5 and 6 fathom, a fine sandy bottom, sheltered from the southerly, s.w. and n.w. winds. [sidenote: island of miquelon.] from the north point of _langley_, to the south point of _miquelon_ is about 1 mile; it is said that a few years since they join'd together at this place by a neck of sand, which the sea has wash'd away and made a channel, wherein is 2 fathom water. the island of _miquelon_ is 4 leagues in length from north to south, but of an unequal breadth; the middle of the island is high land, called the high land of _dunn_; but down by the shore it is low, except cape _miquelon_, which is a lofty promontory at the northern extremity of the island. [sidenote: dunn harbour.] on the s.e. side of the island, to the southward of the high land, is a pretty large bar-harbour, called _dunn harbour_, which will admit fishing shallops at half flood, but can never be of any utility for a fishery. [sidenote: miquelon rocks and bank.] _miquelon rocks_ stretches off from the east point of the island, under the high land 1 mile and a quarter to the eastward, some are above and some under water; the outermost of these rocks are above water, and you have 12 fathom close to them, and 18 and 20 fathom 1 mile off. n.e. half n. 4 or 5 miles from these rocks lie _miquelon bank_ whereon is 6 fathom water. [sidenote: road of miquelon.] the road of _miquelon_ (which is large and spacious) lies at the north-end, and on the east-side of the island, between cape _miquelon_ and a very remarkable round mountain near the shore, called _chapeaux_: off the south point of the road are some sunken rocks, about a quarter of a mile from the shore, but every where else it is clear of danger. the best anchorage is near the bottom of the road in 6 and 7 fathom, fine sandy bottom; you lay open to the easterly winds, which winds seldom blow in the summer. [sidenote: cape miquelon.] cape _miquelon_, or the northern extremity of the island is high bluff land; and when you are 4 or 5 leagues to the eastward or westward of it, you would take it for an island, by reason the land at the bottom of the road is very low. [sidenote: seal rocks] the _seal rocks_ are two rocks above water, lying 1 league and a half off from the middle of the west-side of the island _miquelon_; the passage between them and the island is very safe, and you have 14 or 15 fathom within a cable's length all round them. [sidenote: green island.] this island which is about three-quarters of a mile in circuit, and low, lies n.e. 5 miles from st. _peter_'s, and nearly in the middle of the channel, between it and _point may_ on _newfoundland_; on the south-side of this island are some rocks both above and under water, extending themselves 1 mile and a quarter to the s.w. _description of_ fortune bay. _fortune bay_ is very large, the entrance is form'd by _point may_ and _pass island_, which are 12 leagues n. by e. and s. by w. from each other, and it is about 23 leagues deep, wherein are a great many bays, harbours, and islands. [sidenote: island of brunet.] the island of _brunet_ is situated nearly in the middle of the entrance into _fortune bay_, it is about 5 leagues in circuit, and of a tolerable height; the east-end appears at some points of view like islands, by reason it is very low and narrow in two places. on the n.e. side of the island is a bay, wherein is tolerable good anchorage for ships in 14 and 16 fathom, shelter'd from southerly and westerly winds; you must not run too far in for fear of some sunken rocks in the bottom of it, a quarter of a mile from the shore; opposite this bay on the south-side of the island, is a small cove, wherein small vessels and shallops can lay pretty secure from the weather, in 6 fathom water; in the middle of the cove is a rock above water, and a channel on each side of it. the islands laying at the west-end of _brunet_, called _little brunets_, afford indifferent shelter for shallops in blowing weather; you may approach these islands, and the island of _brunet_, within a quarter of a mile all round, there being no danger but what lay very near the shore. [sidenote: plate islands] _plate islands_ are three rocks of a moderate height, lying s.w. 1 league from the west-end of _great brunet_. the southermost and outermost of these rocks, lay w. by s. half s. 11 miles from cape _miquelon_, and in a direct line between _point may_ and _pass island_, 17 miles from the former and 19 from the later; s.e. a quarter of a mile from the _great plate_ (which is the northermost) is a sunken rock, whereon the sea breaks, which it the only danger about them. [sidenote: observations] there are several strong and irregular settings of the tides or currents about the _plate_ and _brunet islands_, which seem to have no dependency on the moon, and the course of the tides on the coast. [sidenote: island of sagona.] the island of _sagona_, which lies n.n.e. 2 leagues from the east-end of _brunet_, is about 3 miles and a half in circuit, of a moderate height, and bold too all round, at the s.w. end is a small creek that will admit fishing shallops; in the middle of the entrance is a sunken rock which makes it exceeding narrow, and difficult to get in or out, except in fine weather. [sidenote: point may.] _point may_ is the southern extremity of _fortune bay_, and the s.w. extremity of this part of _newfoundland_; it may be known by a great black rock, nearly joining to the pitch of the point, and something higher than the land, which makes it look like a black hommock on the point; near a quarter of a mile right off from the point, or this round black rock, are three sunken rocks, whereon the sea always breaks. [sidenote: dantzic coves.] near 2 miles north from _point may_, is _little dantzic cove_, and half a leag. from _little dantzic_ is _great dantzic cove_; these coves are no places of safety, being open to the westerly winds; the land about them is of a moderate height, bold too, and clear of wood. [sidenote: fortune.] from _dantzic point_ (which is the north point of the coves) to _fortune_ the course is n.e. near 3 leagues; the land between them near the shore is of a moderate height, and bold too; you will have in most places 10 and 12 fathom two cables length from the shore, 30 and 40 one mile off, and 70 and 80 two miles off. _fortune_ lies north from the east-end of _brunet_, it is a bar place that will admit fishing boats at a quarter flood; and a fishing village situated in the bottom of a small bay, wherein is anchorage for shipping in 6, 8, 10, and 12 fathom; the ground is none of the best, and you lay open to near half the compass. [sidenote: grand bank.] [sidenote: great garnish.] [sidenote: frenchman's cove.] [sidenote: anchorage.] cape of _grand bank_ is a pretty high point, lying 1 league n.e. from _fortune_; into the e. ward of the cape is _ship cove_, wherein is good anchorage for shipping, in 8 and 10 fathom, shelter'd from southerly, westerly, and n.w. winds. _grand bank_ lies e.s.e. half a league from the cape, it is a fishing village, and a bar harbour, that will admit fishing shallops at a quarter flood; to this place and _fortune_ resort the crews of fishing ships, who lay their ships up in harbour _briton_. from the cape of _grand bank_ to point _enragee_, the course is ne. a quarter e. 8 leagues, forming a bay between them, in which the shore is low with several sandy beaches, behind which are bar harbours that will admit boats on the tide of flood, the largest of which is _great garnish_, 5 leagues from _grand bank_, it may be known by several rocks above water laying before it, 2 miles from the shore, the outmost of these rocks are steep too, but between them and the shore are dangerous sunken rocks. to the eastward, and within these rocks is _frenchman's cove_, wherein you may anchor with small vessels, in 4 and 5 fathom water, tolerably well shelter'd from the sea winds, and seems a convenient place for the cod fishery: the passage in is to the eastward of the rocks that are the highest above water; between them and some other lower rocks laying off to the eastward from the east point of the _cove_, there is a sunken rock nearly in the middle of this passage, which you must be aware of. you may anchor any where under the shore, between _grand bank_ and _great garnish_ in 8 and 10 fathom water, but you are only shelter'd from the land winds. [sidenote: point enragee.] _point enragee_ is but low, but a little way in the country is high land; this point may be known by two hommocks upon it close to the shore, but you must be very near, otherwise the elevation of the high lands will hinder you from discovering them; close to the point is a rock under water. from _point enragee_ to the head of the bay, the course is first n.e. a quarter e. 3 leagues to _grand jervey_; then n.e. by e. half e. 7 leagues and a half to the head of the bay; the land in general along the south-side is high, bold too, and of an uneven height, with hills and vallies of various extent; the vallies for the most part cloathed with wood, and water'd with small rivulets. [sidenote: bay l'arjent.] seven leagues to the eastward of _point enragee_, is the bay _l'argent_, wherein you may anchor in 30 or 40 fathom water, shelter'd from all winds. [sidenote: harbour millee.] the entrance of harbour _millee_ is to the eastward of the east point of _l'argent_; before this harbour and the bay _l'argent_ is a remarkable rock, that at a distance appears like a shallop under sail. _harbour millee_ branches into two arms, one laying into the n.e. and the other towards the e. at the upper part of both is good anchorage, and various sorts of wood. between this harbour and _point enragee_, are several bar harbours in small bays, wherein are sandy beaches, off which vessels may anchor, but they must be very near the shore to be in a moderate depth of water. [sidenote: cape millee.] _cape millee_ lies n.n.e. half e. 1 league from the afore-mentioned _shallop rock_, and near 3 leagues from the head of _fortune bay_ is a high reddish barren rock. the wedth of _fortune bay_ at _cape millee_ doth not exceed half a league, but immediately below it, it is twice as wide, by which this cape may be easily known; above this cape the land on both sides is high, with steep craggy cliffs. the head of the bay is terminated by a low beach, behind which is a large pond or bar harbour, into which boats can go at quarter flood. in this and all the bar harbours between it and _grand bank_, are convenient places for building of stages, and good beaches for drying of fish, for great numbers of boats. [sidenote: grand l'pierre harbour] _grand l'pierre_ is a good harbour, situated on the north-side of the bay, half a league from the head, you can see no entrance until you are abreast of it; there is not the least danger in going in, and you may anchor in any depth from 8 to 4 fathom, shelter'd from all winds. [sidenote: english harbour.] _english harbour_ lies a little to the westward of _grand l'pierre_, it is very small, and fit only for boats and small vessels. [sidenote: little bay de leau.] to the westward of _english harbour_ is a small bay called _little bay de leau_, wherein are some small islands, behind which is shelter for small vessels. [sidenote: new harbour] this harbour is situated opposite _cape millee_, to the westward of _bay de leau_; it is but a small inlet, yet hath good anchorage on the west-side in 9, 8, 7, and 5 fathom water, sheltered from the s.w. winds. [sidenote: harbour femme.] harbour _femme_, which lies half a league to the westward of _new harbour_, lies in ne. half a league, it is very narrow, and hath in it 23 fathom water, before the entrance is an island, near to which are some rocks above water: the passage into the harbour is to the eastward of the island. [sidenote: brewer's hole.] one league to the westward of _harbour femme_, is a small cove called _brewer's hole_, wherein is shelter for fishing boats; before this cove is a small island near the shore, and some rocks above water. [sidenote: harbour la conte.] this harbour is situated one mile to the westward of _brewer's hole_, before which are two islands, one without the other; the outermost, which is the largest is of a tolerable height, and lies in a line with the coast, and is not easy to be distinguished from the main in sailing along the shore. to sail into this harbour, the best passage is on the west-side of the outer island, and between the two; as soon as you begin to open the harbour, you must keep the inner island close on board, in order to avoid some sunken rocks that lay near a small island, which you will discover between the ne. point of the outer island, and the opposite point on the main; and likewise another rock under water, which lays higher up on the side of the main; this rock appears at low water. as soon as you are above these dangers, you may steer up in the middle of the channel, until you open a fine spacious bason, wherein you may anchor in any depth from 5 to 17 fathom water, shut up from all winds, the bottom is sand and mud. in to the eastward of the outer island, is a small cove fit for small vessels and boats, and conveniencies for the fishery. [sidenote: long harbour.] this harbour lies 4 miles to the westward of harbour _la conte_, and n.e. by n. 5 leagues from _point enragee_; it may be known by a small island in the mouth of it, called _gull island_; and half a mile without this island, is a rock above water, that hath the appearance of a small boat. there is a passage into the harbour on each side of the island, but the broadest is the westermost. nearly in the middle of this passage, a little without the island is a ledge of rocks, whereon is two fathom water; a little within the island on the s.e. side are some sunken rocks, about two cables length from the shore laying off two sandy coves; some of these rocks appear at low-water. on the n.w. side of the harbour, two miles within the island is _morgan's cove_, wherein you may anchor in 15 fathom water, and the only place you can anchor, unless you run into, or above the _narrows_, being every where else very deep water. this harbour runs five leagues into the country, at the head of which is a salmon fishery. [sidenote: bell bay, and its contain'd bays & harbours.] [sidenote: hare harbours.] a little to the westward of _long harbour_, is _bell bay_, which extends three leagues every way, and contains several bays and harbours. on the east point of this bay, is _hare harbour_, which is fit only for small vessels and boats, before which are two small islands, and some rocks above and under water. [sidenote: mall bay.] two miles to the northward of _hare harbour_, or the point of _bell bay_, is _mall bay_, being a narrow arm, laying in ne. by n. 5 miles, wherein is deep water, and no anchorage until at the head. [sidenote: rencontre islands.] _rencontre islands_ lies to the westward of _mall bay_, near the shore; the westermost, which is the largest, hath a communication with the main at low water; in and about this island are shelter for small vessels and boats. [sidenote: bell harbour] _bell harbour_ lies one league to the westward of _rencontre_ islands: the passage into the harbour is on the west side of the island; in the mouth of it, as soon as you are within the island, you will open a small cove on the e. side, wherein small vessels anchor, but large ships must run up to the head of the harbour, and anchor in 20 fathom water, there being most room. [sidenote: lally cove.] _lally cove_ lies a little to the westward of _bell harbour_, it is a very snug place for small vessels, being covered from all winds behind the island in the cove. [sidenote: lally cove. back cove.] _lally head_ is the west point of _lally cove_, it is a high bluff white point; to the northward of the head is _lally cove back cove_, wherein you may anchor in 16 fathom water. [sidenote: bay of the east, and bay of the north.] two miles to the northward of _lally cove head_, is the bay of the east, and bay of the north, in both is deep water, and no anchorage, unless very near the shore. at the head of the north bay is the largest river in _fortune bay_, and seems a good place for a salmon fishery. [sidenote: bay of cinq isles.] the bay of _cinq isles_ lies to the southward of the north bay, and opposite to _lally cove head_ there is tolerable good anchorage for large ships on the s.w. side of the islands in the bottom of the bay. the north arm is a very snug place for small vessels; at the head of this arm is a salmon river. [sidenote: corben bay.] a little to the southward of the bay of _cinq_ isles is _corben bay_, wherein is good anchorage for any ships in 22 or 24 fathom water. [sidenote: bell & dog islands.] south east about two miles from _lally cove head_, are two islands about a mile from each other, the north eastermost is called _bell island_, and the other _dog island_, they are of a tolerable height, and bold too all round. between _dogg island_, and _lord and lady island_, which lies off the s. point of _corben bay_, is a sunken rock, (somewhat nearer to _lord and lady_, than _dogg-island_) whereon the sea breaks in very bad weather, and every where round it very deep water. about a quarter of a mile to the northward of the north-end of _lord and lady_ island, is a rock that appears at low water. [sidenote: bande de la'rier bay and harbour.] _bande de la'rier_ bay lies on the west point of _bell bay_, and nnw. half w. near 3 leagues from point _enragee_, it may be known by a very high mountain over the bay, which rises almost perpendicular from the sea, called _iron-head_. _chappel island_, which forms the east-side of the bay is high land also. the harbour lies on the west-side of the bay, just within the point, formed by a narrow low beach, it is very small, but a snug place, and conveniently situated for the _cod fishery_. there is a tolerable good anchorage along the west side of the bay from the harbour up towards _iron head_ in 18 and 20 fathom water. [sidenote: bande de la'rier bank.] the bank of _bande de la'rier_, whereon is not less than 7 fathom, lies with the beach of _bande de lourier_ harbour, just open of the west point of the bay, and _boxy point_ on with the north end of st. _jaques_ island. [sidenote: st. jaques.] two miles to the w. ward of _bande de la'rier_, is the harbour of st. _jaques_, which may be easily known by the island before it. this island is high at each end, and low in the middle, and at a distance looks like two islands, it lies n. 30d. e. 8 and a half leagues from the cape of _grand bank_, and n. e. by e. 7 leagues from the east-end of _brunet_. the passage into the harbour is on the west side of the island; there is not the least danger in going in, or in any part of the harbour; you may anchor in any depth from 17 to 4 fathom. [sidenote: blue pinion.] two miles to the westward of st. _jaques_, is the harbour of _blue pinion_, it is not near so large, or so safe as that of st. _jaques_; near to the head of the harbour on the west side is a shoal, whereon is two fathom at low water. [sidenote: english cove] a little to the westward of _blue pinion_, is _english cove_, which is very small, wherein small vessels and boats can anchor; before it, and very near the shore is a small island. [sidenote: boxy point.] _boxy_ point lies sw. by w. a quarter w. two leagues and a half from st. _jaques_ island, nne. near 7 leagues from the cape of _grand bank_, and ne. half e. 13 miles from the east end of _brunet_ island; it is of a moderate height, the most advanced to the southward of any land on the coast, and may be distinguished at a considerable distance; there are some sunken rocks off it, but they lay very near the shore, and are no ways dangerous. [sidenote: boxy harbour.] nne. three miles from _boxey_ point is the harbour of _boxy_; to sail into it you must keep _boxy_ point just open of _fryer's_ head (a black head a little within the point) in this direction you will keep in the middle of the channel between the shoals which lay off from each point of the harbour, where the stages are; as soon as you are within these shoals, which cover you from the sea winds, you may anchor in 5 and 4 fathom water, fine sandy ground. [sidenote: st. john's island, head, bay and harbour.] west 1 mile from _boxy_ point is the island of st. _john_'s, which is of a tollerable height, and steep too, except at the n.e. point, where is a shoal a little way off. n.w. half a league from st. _john_'s _island_ is st. _john_'s _head_, which is a high, steep, craggy point. between st _john_'s _head_ and _boxy point_, is st. _john_'s _bay_, in the bottom of which is st. _john_'s _harbour_, wherein is only water for boats. [sidenote: gull and shag.] on the north-side of st. _john_'s _head_ are two rocky islands, called the _gull_ and _shag_; at the west-end of these islands are some sunken rocks. [sidenote: great bay de leau.] one league and a half to the northward of st. _john_'s _head_ is the _great bay de leau_, wherein is good anchorage in various depths of water, sheltered from all winds. the best passage in is on the east-side of the island, laying in the mouth of it; nothing can enter in on the west-side but small vessels and shallops. [sidenote: little bay barrysway.] to the westward of _bay de leau_, 3 miles nnw. from st. _john_'s _head_ is _little bay barrysway_, on the west-side of which is good anchorage for large ships in 7, 8, or 10 fathom water; here is good fishing conveniencies, with plenty of wood and water. [sidenote: harbour briton.] [sidenote: south west arm.] _harbour briton_ lies to the westward of _little bay barrysway_, north 1 leag. and a half from the island of _sagona_, and n. by e. from east-end of _brunet_. the two heads, which from the entrance of this harbour or bay are pretty high, and lay from each other e.n.e. and w.s.w. above 2 miles; near the east head is a rock above water, by which it may be known: there are no dangers in going in until you are the length of the south point of the s.w. arm, which is more than a mile within the west head; from off this point stretches out a ledge of rocks n.e. about two cables length; the only place for king's ships to anchor is above this point, before the s.w. arm in 16 or 18 fathom water, mooring nearly east and west, and so near the shore as to have the east head on with the point above-mentioned; the bottom is very good, and the place convenient for wooding and watering. in the sw. arm is room for a great number of merchant ships, and many conveniencies for fishing vessels. [sidenote: jerseyman's harbour.] opposite to the s.w. arm is the n.e. arm or _jerseyman_'s _harbour_, which is capable of holding a great number of ships, securely shelter'd from all winds. to sail into it you must keep the point of _thompson_'s _beach_ (which is the beach point, at the entrance into the s.w. arm) open of _jerseyman_'s _head_, (which is a high bluff head at the north entrance into _jerseyman_'s _harbour_) this mark will lead you over the bar in the best of the channel, where you will have 3 fathom at low-water; as soon as you open the harbour, haul up north, and anchor where its most convenient in 8, 7 or 6 fathom water, good ground, and shelter'd from all winds. in this harbour are several convenient places for erecting many stages, and good beach room. _jerseymen_ generally lay their ships up in this harbour, and cure their fish at _fortune_ and _grand bank_. [sidenote: gull island, and deadman's bay.] from harbour _briton_ to the w. end of _brunet_, and to the _plate islands_, the course is s.w. by s. 6 leagues and a half to the southermost _plate_. from _harbour briton_ to _cape miquelon_ is s.w. a quarter w. 10 leagues. from the west head of _harbour briton_ to _cannaigre head_, the course is w. by s. distant 2 leagues; between them are _gull-island_ and _deadman's bay_. _gull-island_ lies close under the land, 2 miles to the westward of harbour _briton_. _deadman's bay_ is to the westward of _gull-island_, wherein you may anchor with the land winds. between _harbour briton_ and _cannaigre head_, is a bank stretching off from the shore between 2 and 3 miles, whereon is various depths of water from 34 to 4 fathom. fishermen say that they have seen the sea break in very bad weather, a good way without _gull-island_. [sidenote: cannaigre head.] [sidenote: cannaigre bay.] [sidenote: cannaigre rocks.] _cannaigre head_ which forms the east point of the bay of the same name, lies north easterly 3 leagues and a half from the west-end of _brunet_; it is a high craggy point, easy to be distinguished from any point of view. from this head to _basstarre_ point, the course is w. by n. half n. 2 leagues, and likewise w. by n. half n. 3 leagues and a half to the rocks of _pass island_; but to give them a birth make a w. by n. course good. between _cannaigre head_ and _basstarre point_ is _cannaigre bay_, which extends itself about 4 leagues inland, at the head of which is a salmon river. in the mouth of the bay lay the rocks of the same name above water, you may approach these rocks very near, there being no danger but what discovers itself. the channel between them and the north shore is something dangerous, by reason of a range of rocks which lie along shore, and extend themselves 1 mile off. [sidenote: cannaigre harbour.] _cannaigre harbour_ which is very small, with 7 fathom water in it, is within a point on the south-side of the bay, 5 miles above the head: the passage into the harbour is on the s.e. side of the island, lying before it. nearly in the middle of the bay, abreast of this harbour, are two islands of a tolerable height, on the south-side of the westermost island, which is the largest, are some rocks above water. [sidenote: dawson's cove.] this cove is on the n.w. side of the bay, bears north, distance about 4 miles from the head, and east 2 miles from the w. end of the _great island_. in it are good fishing conveniences, and anchorage for vessels in 6 and 5 fathom water, but they will lay open to the southerly winds. between the s.w. point of this cove and _basstarre point_, which is 5 miles distance, lays the range of rocks beforementioned. [sidenote: basstarre point.] _basstarre point_ which forms the west point of _cannaigre bay_, is of a moderate height, clear of wood, and bold too, all the way from it to _pass-island_, which bears n.w. by w. 1 league from _basstarre point_. [sidenote: observations.] the land on the north-side of _fortune bay_ for the most part is hilly, rising directly from the sea, with craggy, barren hills, which extends 4 or 5 leag. inland, with a great number of rivulets and ponds. the land on the south side of _fortune bay_, has a different appearance to that on the north-side, being not so full of craggy mountains, and better cloathed with woods, which are of a short brushy kind, which makes the face of the country look green. [sidenote: pass island.] _pass island_ lies n. 16° 30' east 7 leagues and a half from _cape miquelon_, it is the n.w. extremity of _fortune bay_, and lies very near the shore, is more than 2 miles in circuit and is pretty high. on the s.w. side are several rocks above water, which extend themselves 1 mile from the island, and on the n.w. side is a sunken rock at a quarter of a mile from the island; the passage between this island and the main, which is near two cables length wide, is very safe for small vessels, wherein you may anchor in 6 fathom, a fine sandy bottom. this island is well situated for the cod fishery, there being very good fishing ground about it. [sidenote: on the soundings.] in the night time, or in foggy weather, ships ought to place no great dependance on the soundings in _fortune bay_, least they may be deceived thereby, for you have more water in many parts near the shore, and in several of its contained bays and harbours, than in the middle of the bay itself. description of _hermitage bay_. from _pass island_ to _great jervis harbour_, at the entrance into the bay of _despair_, the course is n. by e. a quarter e. near three leagues; and from _pass island_ to the west end of _long island_, the course is nne. 8 miles, between them is the bay of _hermitage_, which lies in ene. 8 leagues from _pass island_, with very deep water in most parts of it. [sidenote: fox islands.] the two _fox islands_, which are but small, lie nearly in the middle of _hermitage bay_, 3 leagues and a half from _pass island_; near to these islands is good fishing ground. [sidenote: hermitage cove.] _hermitage cove_ is on the south-side of the bay, opposite to _fox's islands_. to sail into it, you must keep between the islands and the south shore, where there is not the least danger; in this cove is good anchorage for shipping in 8 and 10 fathom water, and good fishing conveniences, with plenty of wood and water. [sidenote: long island.] _long island_, which separates the bay of _despair_ from _hermitage_, is of a triangular form, about 8 leagues in circuit, of a tolerable height, is hilly, uneven and barren. the east entrance into the bay of _despair_ from _hermitage bay_, is by the west-end of _long island_; about half a mile from the s.w. point of the said island, are two rocks above water, with deep water all round them. [sidenote: long island harbour.] this harbour lies on the south-side of _long island_, 2 miles and a half from the west-end; before which is an island, and several rocks above water, there is a narrow passage into the harbour on each side of the island; this harbour is formed by two arms, one laying into the north, and the other to the eastward; they are both very narrow, and have in them from 42 to 7 fathom water; the east arm is the deepest, and the best anchorage. [sidenote: round harbour.] this harbour, wherein is 6 fathom water, lies near 2 miles to the e. ward of _long island harbour_, is also in _long-island_; it will only admit very small vessels, by reason the channel going in is very narrow. [sidenote: picarre.] _harbour picarre_ lies n. by w. half a league from _little fox island_, (which is the westermost of _fox islands_) to sail into it you must keep near the west-point to avoid some sunken rocks off the other, and anchor in the first cove on the east-side in 9 or 10 fathom, sheltered from all winds. [sidenote: galtaus.] this harbour, which is but small, lies near the east-point of _long-island_; at the entrance is several rocky islands. the best channel into the harbour is on the west-side of these islands, wherein is 4 fathom water, but in the harbour is from 15 to 24 fathom. here are several places proper for erecting of stages; and both this harbour and _picarre_ are conveniently situated for a fishery, they laying contiguous to the fishing ground about _fox islands_. [sidenote: passage of long island] between the east-end of _long island_ and the main, is a very good passage out of _hermitage bay_, into the bay of _despair_. description of the bay of _despair_. the entrance of the bay of _despair_ lies between the west-end of _long island_ and _great jervis island_, (an island in the mouth of the harbour of the same name) the distance from one to the other is 1 mile and a quarter, and in the middle between them is no soundings with 280 fathoms. [sidenote: great jervis island.] _great jervis harbour_ is situated at the west entrance into the bay of _despair_ is a snug and safe harbour, with good anchorage in every part of it, in 16, 18 or 20 fathom, though but small will contain a great number of shipping, securely sheltered from all winds, and very convenient for wooding and watering. there is a passage into this harbour on either side of _great jervis island_, the southermost is the safest, there being in it no danger but the shore itself. to sail in on the north-side of the island, you must keep in the middle of the passage, until you are within two small rocks above water near to each other on your starboard-side, a little within the north point of the passage; you must then bring the said north point between these rocks, and steer into the harbour, in that directions will carry you clear of some sunken rocks which lie off the west point of the island; these rocks appear at low-water. the entrance into this harbour may be known by the east-end of _great jervis island_, which is a high steep craggy point, called _great jervis head_, and is the north point of the south entrance into the harbour. [sidenote: north bay.] this is an arm of the bay of _despair_, which extends to the northward 5 leagues from _great jervis island_. in this bay is very deep water, and no anchorage but in the small bays and coves which are on each side of it. at the head of the bay of the east, which is an arm of the north bay, is a very fine salmon river, and plenty of various sorts of wood. [sidenote: eagle island.] to the northward of _long island_, the bay of _despair_ extends itself to the ne. about 8 leagues, whereon are several arms and islands. the first is _eagle island_ laying on the north-side of _long island_, about half a cable's length from the shore; a little to the eastward of it is a small cove, wherein small vessels can anchor in 5 fathom water; off the e. point of this cove are some sunken rocks, the outermost of which lay a quarter of a mile from the shore, and appears at half ebb. [sidenote: frenchman's harbour.] this harbour lies on the north-side of _long island_, 2 miles above _eagle island_, in and before which vessels may anchor in various depths of water; about a cable's length to the eastward of the west point of the harbour is a sunken rock whereon is 8 feet water; a little way further to the eastward is a small island not far from the shore, near to which is a rock that just covers at high water. [sidenote: isle bois.] on the north-side of the bay, opposite to _long island_, lies the _isle bois_, it is near 3 leagues in length, and of a tolerable height; the passage on the north-side of it (called _lampadois_ passage) is very safe, but very deep water. [sidenote: fox island.] this island lies nearly in the middle of the bay, between the east-end of the isle of _bois_ and _long island_, it is of a round form, pretty high, and bold too all round. [sidenote: isle riches.] the _isle riches_ lies off the east-end of the isle of _bois_, it is about a mile in circuit, and pretty high; on the east-side of it are some small islands, and some sunken rocks quite a-cross from the island to the main, so that in sailing up the bay of _despair_, you must leave this island on your starboard-side. [sidenote: little river.] this is an arm of the bay laying in to the eastward from the isle of _riches_, it is very narrow, and counted a good place for a salmon fishery; its banks are stored with various sorts of wood. [sidenote: bay rotte.] this is a small bay which lays north from the east-end of the isle of _bois_, in which are some sunken rocks near the head. [sidenote: bay of conne.] from the isle of _riches_ the bay extends itself to the northward about five miles, commonly called the bay or river of _conne_, then branches into two arms, one still tending to the north, and the other to the eastward; the water is very shallow for some distance from the head of both. about these arms, and the bay of _conne_, are great plenty of all sorts of wood, common to this country, such as firr, pine, birch, witch-hasle, spruce, _&c._ [sidenote: observations.] all the country about the entrance into the bay of _despair_, and for a good way up it is very mountainous and barren, but about the head of the bay it appears to be pretty level, and well cloathed with wood. [sidenote: on the tides.] between st. _laurence_ and point _may_, an ese. moon makes high water at the islands of st. _peters_ and _miquelon_, and in all parts of _fortune bay_ a s.e. moon makes high water. in the bay of _despair_ a se. by s. moon makes high water; in all which places it flows up and down, or upon a perpendicular spring tides 7 or 8 feet; but it must be observed that they are every where greatly governed by the winds and weather. [sidenote: currents.] the currents on the sea coasts from cape _chapeaurouge_ towards st. _peter's_, sets generally to the sw. on the south-side of _fortune bay_ it sets to the eastward, and on the north-side to the westward. [sidenote: winds.] the south west, and westerly winds generally blow in the day during the summer, and about the evening they die away; and in the night you have land breezes or calms. * * * * * +--------------------------------------------------------------+ | typographical errors corrected in text: | | | | page 5: sefety replaced with safety | | page 6: leagus replaced with league | | page 8: dantzc poinit replaced with dantzic point | | page 8: shiping replaced with shipping | | page 11: in the sidenote, recontre replaced with rencontre | | page 12: larier replaced with la'rier | | page 15: in the sidenote, cannaigree replaced with cannaigre | | page 18: aud replaced with and | | | +--------------------------------------------------------------+ notes by the way in a sailor's life by captain arthur e. knights introduction. in 1898 i was in hongkong on a business affair which gave me much leisure, when murray bain, editor of the china mail, whom i had long known, asked why i did not send him a letter occasionally. this led to my venturing to give him "some notes by the way in a sailor's life." these notes, i considered, could only be of interest locally. but some of my friends have urged me to overcome my diffidence and put them in pamphlet form, which i now do for distribution among my friends, trusting that they will treat leniently the literary efforts of one who is a sailor and not a cleric. a.e.k. contents. a quick passage a record long passage a voyage of misfortune beginning of the german navy an incident in hongkong harbour a singular meeting a little railway experience a good record in life-saving presentation of a telescope by the british government the ship "bombay" is there a fatality attaching to men or inanimate things? chinese politeness a brazilian slaver mary ann gander. hard times memory for voices an incident of the great taiping rebellion conclusion a quick passage. to the editor of the "china mail." dear sir:--i have just read with much pleasure the report of the quick passage made by the sailing-ship "muskoka" from cardiff to this port in ninety-two days. this is really a good trip and the captain and his officers may be complimented on having done so well, for, as you know, the ship is of large tonnage and the complement of men is small. i congratulate the captain and his officers, and wish they may be as successful in all their future voyages. mr. editor, no doubt you remember the ship "northfleet." i was second officer of her, as you know, in the year 1857. in the spring of that year, we loaded government stores, guns, mortars, and general war materials, with two companies of royal artillery, for the war at canton, in which the french and the british were allies. we sailed from woolwich on the river thames, and stopped at gravesend twelve hours, then made our final start for hongkong, in which port we anchored in the wonderfully short time of eighty-eight days from woolwich, which is at least three days' sail farther than cardiff. on the following voyage we did the same in eighty-eight days and a half. these two were record voyages made in the glorious days of "teaclippers." a. e. knights. hong kong, june, 1898. a record long passage. first cotton from china to america. during the palmy days after the opening of the river yangtse--when freights were taels 22 per ton from hankow to shanghai, a distance of six hundred miles--i was in command of the "neimen," an auxiliary ship-rigged vessel, engaged in this trade until near the end of 1863, and saw some of the exciting times of the taiping rebellion in that part of china. by the end of 1862 the steamers "huquang" and "firecracker" had come from new york round the cape of good hope, and later the "chekiang," "kiu-kiang," and other paddle steamers were put on the river, and the freights were reduced to taels 4 1/2 per ton. then we had to clear out. my employers ordered me to hongkong to meet new boilers for the "neimen." later i received instructions to sell the "jedda," belonging to the same owners, which was done. then i had an offer from mr. paul forbes to buy the "neimen." this arrangement was completed, and i agreed with the new owners (russell & co.) to take the engines out of the vessel, and to change the rig from ship to barque, with the object of loading cotton for new york--the first from china to america. after completing our alterations, and after painting the ship in whampoa, we came to hongkong to load at the beginning of may, 1864. the weather and water being warm and the paint new gave a favorable opportunity for the barnacles to attach themselves to the vessel, and by the time we started the barnacles were like coarse gravel on her sides. on the 24th of may, 1864, we sailed from hongkong, and when we got out into the china sea we had no monsoon, but met with a continuance of calms and squalls. the ship was unable to stand up under her canvas, having no ballast, and being, as it were, stuffed with cotton. well, at last we reached anjer, eighty-four days from hongkong. the ship was one mass of barnacles as large as "egg-cups." i sent overland to batavia to buy some garden spades, to be fitted on to long poles, so as to try to chop off some of the shells, which we did, and after five days' delay we sailed again. from sunda straits we had a good run till near the cape. here we had calms again, and the grass and barnacles grew very fast. indeed, the ship's bottom was like a half-tide rock, and when the water washed up the sides, as she rolled, the noise made by the barnacles was like the surf on a sea-beach. we were followed for several days by a shoal of dolphins, which we caught in great numbers night and morning. finally we got round the cape, and to st. helena, where we stayed four days, and employed men to assist us in chopping off grass and barnacles as far as we could reach. then we proceeded on our way once more. we had a wearisome time in the "doldrums" about the equator, only enlivened by catching dolphins and watching crabs, which would leave the grass for a swim and then return to the ship. after getting clear of the calm belt, we had a very good run to bermuda, where we encountered a heavy gale, with tremendous heavy seas. when the weather moderated we found to our dismay that the rudder was adrift, the pintles having been broken by the heavy seas. i was now compelled to put before the wind and run for st. thomas, in the west indies, and when near the entrance of the port a passenger, captain george adams, "went off his head," and thus gave no little addition to my anxieties. finally we arrived safely in port. here more troubles began. i was advised to do many things, some of which would have been much to the benefit of some of my advisers. one thing was to land and store the cargo.[*] this i positively refused to do. but after all i found that there was only one european blacksmith in the place, and he had but a small shop. this man contracted to do the repairs, and after i had got the rudder to his shop he coolly asked me if i had a good carpenter or other handy man to help him, as the job was too heavy for his negro assistant to weld. i proposed to him another plan. so at last the work was done satisfactorily, and we went on our way with partly a new negro crew, some of the old crew having left. we made very good progress and were nearly off new york when we got into a violent snowstorm, which greatly amused the negro sailors, who had never seen "white rain" before, but unfortunately for three of them, they got frostbitten and lost their legs. we got into new york at last on the 25th of january, 1865, eight months from hongkong! although the voyage was so long, i believe the venture turned out to be a good one financially. gold was at a very high premium,--about two dollars and eighty cents at this time,--and our cotton sold for one dollar and fifty cents per pound. the "neimen" went into dock, and people came in hundreds to see the strange sight. she was covered with shells like a rook. some of these shells were sent out to china, and messrs. russell & co. (the owners) had them mounted in silver as inkstands. 28th june, 1898. [*] to land and store cargo should never be done by a shipmaster without authority from the owners. a voyage of misfortune. after the last voyage which i gave you an account of i accepted an offer made me by my late employers, and became superintendent of a business under their management in new york. unfortunately, at the close of the war, this business was temporarily suspended and my contract was annulled. i then tried two or three different things on my own account, and finally settled as agent for a paper-mill; and all things were going on fairly well until in an unguarded moment i read an advertisement in the new york herald. it ran as follows: "a gentleman with experience requires a partner with capital, in a safe business, with no risks." the bait took, and i had an interview with "the gentleman," and saw the persons to whom he referred me, and we joined, with the result that in less than seven months we had changed places. i had the experience and he had the capital, as well as the stock, and had vanished to where the woodbine twineth. his friends told me that this was his usual way of doing business. this was pretty cool. in a short time the same gentleman was seeking another victim in chicago. my advice to sailors is to "stick to the ship." well, sir, the next thing i thought of was to get a ship before the landsharks took all i had from me; and, with the assistance of mr. paul forbes, i was soon in command of the ship "royal saxon," owned jointly by r. w. cameron, of new york, and r. towns, of sydney. we sailed from new york for melbourne, and arrived there safely, though in running down our easting about 42° south latitude we had continuous fogs. now, sir, to the point. the above firm despatched from new york each alternate week one vessel for melbourne and one for sydney. the week before i left, the ship "eastward ho," captain byrne, was despatched for sydney, and apparently all went well until she got into latitude 37° or 38° south, and a little to the eastward of the cape of good hope, when suddenly one night, when running before a strong gale, she came crushing into ice. the shock was so severe that her fore and main topmasts and mizzen-topgallant masts went by the board, and the foremast-head sprung. the hull was considerably shattered, and the main covering-board split up from forward as far aft as the main gangway. after this, the captain thought he had better try to reach simon's bay or the cape. for some days they were working through field-ice, getting a little to the north. patching the vessel with canvas, and rigging jury-masts and sails, finally they got clear of ice, and with fine weather it was decided to stand to the eastward, with the hope of being overtaken by some other vessel (which never came). after many vicissitudes,--taking to the boats, then returning to the ship twice,--it was decided that the ship was the safest place, and she ultimately reached sydney. in passing through bass's straits, the "eastward ho" had been passed at a short distance by a steamer from new zealand, and reported in melbourne, but could give no name. this gave great offence to the people of melbourne for passing a vessel in such a state and not finding her name or her wants, if any. the "eastward ho" was repaired and loaded coals in sydney for hongkong, and misfortune again overtook her. in coming through the eastern seas, her crew mutinied, and the vessel narrowly escaped wreck on one of the islands. then, later, she got into a typhoon, and was very badly strained, but escaped for what might have been a worse fate--fire. her cargo of coals caught fire, and after some days of hard work, the fire was extinguished; but when the vessel reached hongkong and her cargo was discharged, it was found that the hull was a mere shell. her frames and planking in many places were burnt nearly through. the vessel was condemned, the crew were paid off, and the captain left hongkong for new york and syracuse, where was his home. when he had nearly reached his house he met an old friend who conveyed to him the sad news of his wife's death and of the funeral from which he was just returning. a sailor's life is not always a happy one. is there a fatality attaching to certain men or things? beginning of the german navy. in the beginning of the year 1862 i was chief officer of the ship "ballaarat," with captain henry jones, of far east fame. we loaded in the east india docks, london, a full cargo of piece goods for shanghai and for taku bar. we arrived at shanghai, and, as the war was finished, we were ordered to proceed to taku to discharge our cargo for tientsin. in due time we reached taku bar, where we found several of the british warships anchored, and the south forts occupied by british troops. we anchored in the forenoon very near to a vessel flying the prussian flag, and when we had furled sails and cleared up decks it was tiffin-time. to our surprise, a boat came from the prussian, bringing the captain. i met him at the gangway, and reported him to our captain, with the result that he stayed to tiffin with us. and then he stated his business on board our ship. he said he wanted to buy provisions and stores of any kind, sailors' clothing, boots, or anything we could sell, which our captain laughingly agreed to do. the following conversation then took place: "what is the name of the vessel you command?" "she is now the 'hertha,' and was the british sailing-sloop 'thetis.' the british government had her converted into a screw vessel, and presented her to us to bring our minister, count von eulenberg, to negotiate a treaty with china as soon as the war should be ended, and that is why we are here; and the barque with the american flag flying near to us carries extra coals for our use." "but," said our captain, "you are not a german. how is it that you are in command of that ship?" "no," said he; "i am an ex-danish naval officer, and all my officers are danes, and we have german cadets. there being no german navy, there are no officers yet trained." business then began, and the transfer of provisions and stores of almost every kind was made from one ship to the other. after this we used to have daily friendly intercourse for about three weeks, and one fine morning the "hertha" left her anchorage. a fresh easterly breeze was blowing, and the "hertha" was working under sail against the wind, which was increasing, and a nasty, short sea rising. after a couple of hours we saw her yards squared, and the vessel put back and she anchored near to us. in the afternoon, the wind having moderated, an officer from her came to buy a grindstone. this caused some little merriment. then the officer explained that in the forenoon, when beating down the gulf, in one of the plunges, the grindstone had been washed off the forecastle-head, where the men had been employed in grinding their cutlasses. they were expecting to hear news of a rupture between france and germany, and they were on the way to hongkong for shelter. it is highly creditable to the germans that from so humble a beginning they have raised such a fine fleet as they now possess. after our return to shanghai from taku i was permitted to leave the "ballaarat" and take command of the "neimen" on the yangtse. an incident in hongkong harbour. the following incident regarding captain keppel may be of some interest to sailors, and perhaps is remembered by some residents of hongkong who may have been there at the time of the last war with china. sir harry keppel was every inch a sailor, and sometimes did some very strange things, which would annoy his superiors; but the very oddity of his actions gained the hearts and confidence of those who served under him, and he could rely on every one acting as one machine when he commanded. one day, for some reason, the admiral, sir michael seymour, who was then on the flagship "calcutta," gave orders for the "raleigh" to proceed to sea in face of a very strong southwest monsoon. the "raleigh" was to go out by the lyemoon and return by green island. the ship was got under way, and went out in the ordinary way by the lyemoon, and beat round the island. after some hours she came back by way of green island, with all plain sails and all studding-sails set. at first this called for no special attention, except for the grand sight of a man-of-war under full sail. at this time, the harbour was full of sailing-ships of all nations, and as the "raleigh" came near and threaded her way among them, the crews of the various ships became interested. when the "raleigh" came near to her anchorage, the order was quietly passed, and then, as if by magic, in came all studding-sails; then, in the same manner, all plain sails; after that "let go the anchor," and a running moor was made. then came cheers from every sailor who had witnessed the maneuvre, cheers that could be heard all over hongkong as it was then. well, sir, the admiral was not pleased with this piece of skill in seamanship, and for coming through a crowded harbour under all sail. the "raleigh" was ordered out for a twenty-four hours' cruise, and to come in in a shipshape way the next time. well, she went out again, and as she came in past green island, she had all sail as before, and when nearing the shipping, greatly to the astonishment of every one, in came all plain sail and furled, leaving only the studding-sails; and under these she went through the shipping to her anchorage, and then, "in all studding-sails," and a running moor was made as before. and, if possible, the cheers were more vehement than before. now, sir, what do you think was the effect? why, nearly half the sailors in the merchant ships wanted to join the "raleigh." they could not be accommodated, but many were engaged and put on board the "sibyl." it may also be remembered that when the "raleigh" struck a rock near macao, a french man-of-war was in sight. the french flag was hoisted and saluted by the "raleigh." after the salute, the order was given to abandon ship, and all this was done with as much coolness as if going to a church parade. a singular meeting. a few years ago i had with me as chief mate a man who had left his home when quite a boy to come to china. after arrival in shanghai, he got a position as quartermaster, and worked his way up to chief mate. after about eighteen years' absence from his home, an older brother of his came to shanghai in command of a sailing-ship, and the two brothers met. the captain and i were introduced to each other, and i invited him to spend all the time he could with his young brother on board the steamer. later the captain asked me to use my influence to get his brother to go home with him to see his mother, who was a very old lady, and always yearning to see her child "sam." after some trouble, i persuaded him, as a matter of duty, to go home, and obtained for him a year's leave of absence. he left shanghai in his brother's ship, and went to iloilo, where the vessel loaded and sailed for america. when the vessel was well on her way towards the cape of good hope, they had one very calm day, and a short distance from them was another vessel showing the american flag. the two brothers agreed to have a boat lowered and to pull over to the stranger for a short visit. this was done, and to their great surprise, when they got on board, they found that the captain was their own older brother. the two captains had been employed in different ports and on different voyages, and had not met each other in fifteen years, and the oldest and the youngest had never met before. a little railway experience. by way of a change, i will tell you of a little railway experience i once had. during the civil war in america, i had occasion to go from new york to boston on important business, and i was there some days. when my business was ended i decided on leaving boston by the midnight train. each hotel had its coach to convey guests to the depot or railway station. i took my seat in the coach, and was joined by a gentleman also going to new york. we each got our railway tickets, and sat side by side in the same carriage, or "car," and after some little time we got into conversation, and when my companion found that i was a "seafaring man," no one could have been more astonished than he was. he looked at me and said, "my dear sir, you look to be an intelligent sort of man, and you tell me that you go to sea." i said, "yes, and why not?" "well," said he, "i don't see how any man possessed with any common sense and reason could ever be such a fool as to go to sea." i said that possibly that was the reason for my going to sea--just simply a want of good sense on my part. but it suited me very well, and i should like to know what objections he had against a sea life. "why, sir, supposing you are in a gale and a fire breaks out on board, what are you going to do? you have no back door to escape through?" "well, we may be able to leave in the boats." "but you can't do it in a terrible storm." "well, then, we will do the best we can, and do as sailors often are compelled to do, trust in providence. but for my part, i don't see that we run more risks in a gale at sea than you do in the cities or than we do now on the rail. what is to prevent us from having a smash-up before morning?" "well, now, my good sir, i beg of you don't go to sea any more, but just come out to iowa and buy a nice farm and settle down ashore. you can buy a nice farm with all improvements at from three thousand to five thousand dollars." i asked him what was the matter with the other man, that he wanted to sell his farm and all improvements. i did not get any satisfactory answer to this, as we had something more serious to attend to. just at this time i felt a peculiar motion in the car, like a horse cantering. i clapped my hand on my friend and said, "sit still," and in a few moments i felt my heels grinding on some one--and the next thing was, that we were landed bottom up down twenty-five feet of embankment, and terrible shrieks on all sides. three cars were capsized. one in front of us went down on its side, endways. ours went a side-somersault, and the next one endways, on its wheels. en route we had gathered a number of soldiers who had been drafted and were on their way south. the cars were jammed full. the furnace in our car did great damage to some, and altogether about seventy were more or less hurt. the accident was caused by a rail breaking, owing to severe frost. after this i tried to persuade my friend to go to iowa, sell his store, and come to sea with me, where he would be safe from any more tricks of this sort. he still seemed inclined to hold on to the rail. a good record in life-saving. [from the shanghai mercury, april 13, 1887.] the steamship "kiang-yu," captain knights, left the kin-lee-yuen wharf for hankow, at 2 o'clock on the morning of the 1st instant. on account of the fog prevailing, she anchored at halfway point till 6 a. m., when she got under way and ran as far as lin-ho point, where she anchored again until 11 o'clock. the wind had been fresh from the south, but at noon it changed in a squall to north, and continued very strong all day. at 4 p. m., when about 75 miles up the yangtse, a junk that had been capsized was seen. a boat was lowered and six men, two women, and two children were taken off, who were all got safely on board the "kiang-yu." a change of clothes was raised for them among the chinese passengers, and over thirty dollars were subscribed for the unfortunates, who were landed at kiang-yin. their home was about five miles lower down the river. they had left there in the morning, and were capsized in the sudden change of wind. the poor creatures appeared to be very grateful for their rescue. this is not the first time that captain knights has been instrumental in saving life. during the last six years, he has picked up over thirty people on the yangtse, and in november, 1858, when second officer of the tea-clipper "northfleet," he performed a gallant action in going in charge of a boat during a cyclone to the rescue of the crew of the brig "hebe." this happened about four hundred and fifty miles southwest of the scilly islands, land's end. the "northfleet" was bound for portsmouth with some four hundred and fifty soldiers and sailors, invalids from hongkong, and twenty-four saloon passengers, mostly naval and military officers. the "hebe" was laden with grain from alexandria, and was in a sinking condition. the following testimonial, signed by several of the military and naval officers on board the "northfleet," who witnessed the rescue, and by the captain and mate of the "hebe," speaks for itself: ship "northfleet" (at sea), november 18th, 1858. we take much pleasure in awarding to mr. knights, 2nd officer of this ship, this unsolicited testimonial, expressive of our high sense of the coolness, judgment and courage he displayed on the morning of november the 13th, 1858, when, under circumstances of great difficulty and imminent danger, when in charge of the cutter, with five men, in a gale of wind and high tumultuous sea running, he was, by the interposition of divine providence, mercifully allowed to be the means of rescuing the master, mate, and crew (9 in all) of the brig "hebe," of southampton, reported to be in a sinking state. j. r. fittock, master, r. n. w. j. stuart, lieutenant, r. n. h. j. tribe, captain, r. n. r. picken, m. d., r. n. h. ward, captain, r. n. james driver, engineer, r. n. g eo. a. f. day, 2nd master, r. n. wm. donnelly, f. w., r. n. a. w. stratton (late master and owner of brig "hebe"). chas. clarke, mate. the first signature to the testimonial is that of mr. j. b. fittock, master, r. n., father of mr. consul fittock, well known in china. the following letter on the subject was also written to the london times by the master of the "hebe":-heroism at sea. to the editor of "the times." sir: i wish to acknowledge, through the medium of your journal, my sincere thanks to captain b. freeman, of the ship "northfleet," of london, for having rescued myself and eight men, the crew of the brig "hebe," of southampton, when in a sinking state, and at the same time blowing a gale of wind, with a high sea, in latitude 48° 80' n. and longitude 12° 20' w. at the same time, i cannot pass by the courage displayed by mr. knights, second mate, and five of the crew of the "northfleet," in the management of the boat which took us off. yours respectfully, a. w. stratton, master. 12 wood street, ryde, isle of wight, nov. 30. the board of trade recognized captain knights's gallantry by presenting him with a telescope (by troughton & sons, london) and recording the fact on his certificate in the following terms:-"certified that a telescope was presented by the british government to arthur e. knights for gallantry in saving life at sea." recently, captain knights received from his old chief, captain freeman, who was master of the "northfleet" when the rescue of the crew of the "hebe" took place, a large oil-painting descriptive of the scene, accompanied by a letter, from which we take the following extract: south hackney, feb. 25th, 1887. i have sent you (by favour of mr. w. howell, the chief officer of the "glenroy") the painting that captain stratton gave me of the "northfleet" rescuing the crew of the brig "hebe," of southampton, and i beg your acceptance of it. i am sure you will like to have it, as you were the principal actor in the scene--and i have a copy of it done by the same artist. i well remember (as if it was only yesterday) how anxious i was during the time you were away on the job, and how my heart was frequently in my mouth (as the saying goes) when the old ship gave an extra heavy lurch, and you and the dear old cutter were out of sight for a few seconds in the trough of the sea; and i often think now what a wonderful and merciful thing it was that we got that boat up without accident,--but you see we had so many willing hands on board that they ran away with her as soon as she was hooked on. the painting represents the "northfleet" in a storm under close-reefed topsails, fore staysail, and main trysail, and the "hebe" under close-reefed topsails, with heavy seas breaking over her, her boats and house washed away, her stern-post (struck by a heavy sea) started, and the brig in a sinking condition. the cutter, manned by a crew of five, with captain knights in charge, and with the rescued crew of the "hebe" in her, appears under the stern of the "northfleet," one man of the "hebe's" crew being hoisted on board by a bowline running from the spanker-boom. the whole of the "hebe's" crew were got on board the "northfleet" in the same way,--the cutter, containing captain knights and the crew from the "northfleet" being then hooked on and run up without accident. it may be mentioned that the "northfleet" was the ill-fated vessel which some years afterwards was run down, while at anchor under dungeness, by the spanish steamer "murillo," when over three hundred lives were lost. presentation of a telescope by the british government. in the early part of the year 1859 i received a letter from the board of trade, notifying me that the british government had been pleased to award me a telescope in acknowledgment of my service in rescuing the master and crew of the brig "hebe," and requesting me to write a statement, of what took place before and after the rescue, and hand it to the president of the local marine board, on a day named, and to be then presented with a telescope. i appeared at the place and time appointed, and the president rose from his seat and read my statement to the gentlemen of the board. he then asked me if i had rendered any previous service to british or foreign subjects in distress; if so, had i received any reward or remuneration for the same. if not, then the board would make application and obtain whatever might be due for such service. or, did i wish for any further reward for the present service from any society in great britain, application should be made. i replied that i had not rendered any previous service to any others in distress, and that what i had done on this occasion was voluntary and spontaneous, without thought of reward. i considered it only as a duty to my fellow-man; and since the government had been pleased to acknowledge the service, i was truly grateful. i was then complimented by the gentlemen of the board, and was presented with the telescope. the inscription on it is my greatest pride to this day, as is also the honorary testimonial, stamped on my government certificate of competency by the recommendation of the local marine board. to the president and gentleman of the local marine board, london. in latitude 48° 30' n., longitude 12° 20' e., on the morning of the 13th of november, 1858, at 7 a. m., it being then just break of day, i saw the brig "hebe" about three miles on our lee-bow, having the signal of distress flying. i immediately reported it to captain freeman, who came on deck and gave orders to bear down upon her and see what was wanted. when near enough we hove to and hailed the brig, asking what they were in want of, and they answered, saying "for god's sake, send us a boat, as we are sinking." captain freeman then asked if they wanted to abandon their vessel, and they repeated their supplications, every one on board appearing to be in the greatest mental distress, making signs that their vessel was going down. the men were working vigorously at the pumps at imminent risk of being washed overboard, as the sea was breaking completely over them. it was now 8 o'clock, and captain freeman gave orders for all hands to remain on deck and to clear away the cutter. i then got into the boat and asked who would go with me, when i got several volunteers, out of whom i took five,--viz., burland, hill, hendrickson, hansen, and cummins. the boat was lowered very successfully, when we got clear of the ship. the brig was about a quarter of a mile astern. heading for the ship, i pulled alongside and told them to give me a good line over their quarter, long enough to veer and haul upon. i told the captain of the brig to get his log-book and chronometer, with a few of his own personal effects, but i would not take either bed or bag belonging to any one. i then told them to stand by and to jump in their turns, one by one, as i should direct. we then hauled the boat up with her bow alongside the brig's quarter, taking care lest the stem of the boat should get knocked out, getting one of them off at a time, dropping clear while the heavy seas passed, then hauling up again. in this manner we succeeded in getting them off, nine in all, in about forty minutes, making them lie in the bottom of the boat as ballast till it was covered. we then pulled to the ship. when we reached her, they had a block at the spanker-boom-end, with a single line rove and bowline, into which the men got and were hoisted one by one on deck. after they were all up, i sent one of the boat's crew up, and then went alongside and hooked on the boat, which was quickly run up. there was no other mishap than the breaking of an oar in coming alongside. we had on board about three hundred invalid soldiers and sailors from the canton war at this time. i have the honor to be your obedient servant, a. e. knights. inscription on telescope. presented by the british government to mr. arthur knights second officer of the "northfleet" in acknowledgment of his gallant conduct in rescuing the master and crew of the "hebe" in november, 1858. the ship "bombay." (november, 1858.) at the time that the ship "northfleet" was rescuing the crew of the brig "hebe," the ship "bombay," belonging to the same owner,--mr. duncan dunbar,--was on the side of the same storm, at about one hundred miles distance, and had the wind from just the opposite direction, but with much greater force, and came near being lost. the "bombay" had embarked some troops in portsmouth for the indian mutiny, and was ordered to proceed to queenstown in ireland to take on board some two hundred more soldiers. when the vessel got near the entrance of the harbour it was nightfall, and, the wind being unfavourable, when the pilot got on board, he recommended the captain to make everything easy for the night and enter the harbour next morning, when he expected the wind to be fair. but during the night the wind increased and became a violent northeast gale, and the vessel was blown out of the irish channel into the atlantic ocean. for some days the wind blew with hurricane force. the ship lost some sails, and was at last carrying only a close-reefed main topsail and fore staysail. the sea was mountainous and lashing the ship from all directions. then late in the day, to the dismay of all on board, the lee main topsail-sheet gave way, and the sail was flapping like thunder and lashing the mast and rigging most furiously. the ship, now having nothing to steady her, was helplessly rolling in the trough of the sea, at the mercy of the waves, which threatened to engulf her, as they were breaking on board from every direction. the deck-houses were washed away and the decks were filled with water, which began to find an entrance to the 'tween-decks, where the poor soldiers were battened down. in this plight it was necessary to get the remnant of the topsail secure, and if possible get a new sail in its place, so as to steady the ship. the second officer was ordered to get the sailors and do this, but he soon reported that the sailors, many of whom were foreigners, would not go aloft. the chief officer then went forward and called for men, and asked if there were any british sailors among them. if there were, for god's sake, to go aloft with him. he led, the way, followed by seventeen british sailors. they had nearly completed the work of securing the sail when the ship gave a tremendous roll on the top of a very heavy wave and the mast went by the board, carrying with it the chief mate and his seventeen followers, and not a soul could be saved. oh, to think of the horrors of that dark and fearful night! now came the trial for captain john flamanek and the remaining portion of his crew. the broken mast and yards, still held by the broken rigging, was lashing against the ship, threatening to break in her side and send all to the bottom. it was necessary to cut away this wreckage as soon as possible so as to free the ship, but before this could be accomplished daylight had set in. then the captain asked the officer commanding the soldiers to let some of his men give assistance. this he refused to do, and made complaint that his men's food was not being prepared for them as it should be. the men cried shame of their commander, and volunteered to do whatever they could to assist the captain.[*] the weather moderated, and some sails were set on the vessel, which finally unassisted reached falmouth. two steam men-of-war had been sent in search of her, but missed her. [*] for his dastardly conduct the military commanding officer was later dismissed from the army, and was never allowed to enter her majesty's service again. is there a fatality attaching to men or inanimate things? in another part of this book i have mentioned the ship "northfleet." in regard to that vessel the above question might almost be answered in the affirmative. the vessel was launched at the place from which she took her name in 1852. she made her first voyage to new zealand, thence to china, and from there to san francisco, and back to china and london. then she went trooping for the crimean war; then for some years ran between london and china carrying tea, for which she was originally built. this ship never made a voyage without some one being drowned from her, and finally she was run into and sunk by a steamer, which was afterwards proved to be the spanish vessel "murillo." by this collision upwards of three hundred people were drowned. the "northfleet" was carrying railway workmen to new zealand, and when coming down the english channel the weather was stormy and the pilot recommended the captain to anchor under a point called dungeness. this was done, and the night came on very dark. at some time after midnight a steamer came in under the point, apparently for the purpose of anchoring, as was afterwards reported by the crew of the tugboat which was at anchor. they saw the steamer moving about for some time. then a crash was heard, followed by most heartrending cries. the steamer went out to sea, and did not heed the signal rockets which were sent up by the "northfleet." the little tugboat had only four men and a small boat, which was at once launched, and the mate and the engineer, with one sailor, went to the rescue. when they arrived all that could be found was the captain's wife and an ordinary seaman. all the others had perished, through the dastardly act of the spaniard in running away. captain knowles of the "northfleet" was newly married to a very beautiful lady, who was later on by command presented to queen victoria, who, after hearing her story, condoled with her, and later gave her a pension of fifty pounds a year as long as she remained a widow. some three years after this the widow was again married, to captain cawes, of the ship "coriolanus." this ship came to hankow to load tea and i had the pleasure to meet mrs. cawes, who had been saved from my old ship in which i had served for years. the steamer that run down the "northfleet" was twice arrested, but nothing definite could be proved until some two years later, when one of her officers was near dying, and he confessed that it was the steamer "murillo," which was later proved to be true, and the vessel was confiscated. chinese politeness. whilst running to hankow with the steamer "neimen" i had as sailors malays. the firemen were seedy boys, or nubians. the steward was a goa portuguese. the servants were chinese, and the cook a chinese who claimed to be an american, he having been trained by captain john parrott, of san francisco, "a number one american man," who had taught him to swear quite neatly. well, on christmas day, 1862, we had a very hard gale and snowstorm, and early in the evening we had to anchor. then we sat down to dinner, which we hoped to enjoy. there were several passengers on board, and when the soup was served and tasted each looked at the other, and i looked at the steward and asked him what kind of soup it was. he said it was plain soup. i asked why some meat had not been used in its making, and he replied that the cook must have eaten the meat, as he was given plenty. the cook was sent for, and when he was confronted with the steward he began to use the refined language taught him by captain parrott. i ordered the steward to put all the soup back into the tureen. then i invited the cook to take a seat at the table and consume the soup, which he did. when he had taken it he rose and, bowing most politely, tucked the tureen under his arm like an admiral with his cocked hat, and said, "excusey, my sir; all hab finishee," and backed out of the saloon most politely. a brazilian slaver. in the year 1851 i was on a voyage to melbourne, australia, on the sailing ship "severn." this was shortly after the opening of the gold mines. we left southampton with about one hundred passengers, and had a very fine run with fair weather. there was no incident to mar the enjoyment of the trip until we neared the coast of brazil, when one morning we saw a smart-looking brig hove to, waiting for us to come up, and when we came near our passengers became very much excited, as we could see there was an unusual number of men on her deck; the idea was that it was a pirate vessel. when we came very near to her, a boat was put off from her, and an officer brought a letter from her captain asking for provisions and water, saying that the vessel was bound for the port of santos, and had been blown off the coast in a pampero. neither the officer nor the boat's crew could or would speak english. they could only ask in spanish for "tabac." some of our sailors protested that they were either british or--americans. well, they were supplied with salt beef and pork, canned meats, water, etc. several trips were made by the boat, and when all was finished, and the boat was at some distance from us, these marauders stood up and gave us three rousing cheers in good plain english, and called out "good-bye boys, and good luck to you for feeding the blackbirds." the brig was full of slaves. this "slave" business was then near its end in brazil, and, probably this vessel had been chased off the coast by a british war-vessel, as every possible effort was being made by the british government to suppress the slave trade. mary ann gander. on this voyage we had a mr. and mrs. gander and their eight children. poor mrs. gander used to suffer terribly from seasickness, and was totally unfitted to do anything but scold, whilst poor unfortunate gander used to promenade the deck with a child on each arm and a couple of others tagging on to his coat-tails. he was a wonderfully good-natured fellow, was gander; otherwise i do believe he would have jumped overboard, for whenever he came near to where mrs. gander was, she used to call to him to go to the captain and tell him to put her on shore immediately; she would not go any further in that ship,--no, that she wouldn't. "now, mary ann, what's the use your talking that way; you know that we are a thousand miles from any land and the captain cannot put you on shore." "now, gander, don't you talk to me. how dare you? you just go to the captain at once. oh! you catch me going to sea again. no, that you won't. when i go home i'll go overland, if i have to walk every step of the way." poor gander! mary ann and the children all survived the trials of the voyage and arrived safe in melbourne, where gander was very fortunate, and in three years made sufficient money to enable him to retire, and as the english mail steamer company, or the p. & o. company had put on a line from ceylon to australia in 1852, the gander family were enabled to go home by the overland route, as mrs. gander had wished to go. hard times. in june, 1854, i left melbourne on the barque "junior," bound to callao, in peru. we had a fine voyage, and on arrival, being free, i went to lima, the capital. i found this was a very interesting old city, with beautiful surrounding country, which i enjoyed very much, and spent nearly a month there. then i had a week in callao, which was a pretty wild place. i used to sail around the bay, and in sailing near the shore i could look down, at the bottom of the sea, on the houses of old callao, which was swallowed by an earthquake in the latter part of the last century. and, strange to say, when the town disappeared an island came up out in the bay. this island is very high and is called "san lorenzo," after a lone fisherman who had been out in his boat fishing on the night when the earthquake took place, and in the morning poor old lorenzo found himself in a boat about a thousand feet up on a mountain and no town in sight. well, i joined the barque "tropic," loaded with guano, bound for cork, in ireland. this vessel was a very rotten old thing, and in getting round cape horn we all had a very hard time, and did not know how soon the vessel would sink with us; but we got round the cape and into the south atlantic, where we had better weather and proceeded pretty well till in the north atlantic, when provisions began to get short. when we were off the azores, watching the beautiful shores and harbours of st. michael, we came near a dutch brig from brazil loaded with coffee. the captain hailed us and asked us for some biscuits. a boat was sent to us bringing us a half-bag of coffee. we had less than a hundred pounds of biscuits. our captain consulted with us about giving any of it away. it was finally agreed that we would divide with the brig. this was done, and we had to be very careful with so little bread among twelve people. we had plenty of salt beef and pork, and a half-barrel of flour, but no beans or peas or sugar. we had a fair run till we saw cape clear, at the south end of ireland, on the 30th of january, 1855. we all were in high hopes that a few hours more would see us at anchor in queenstown; but that night came on an easterly gale, and we were driven out into the atlantic, where for weeks we were buffeted about, and to our dismay our last fresh-water cask we found had leaked and was empty. we were surrounded with many other vessels in the same plight--short of provisions. we had plenty of snow, with which we could make coffee, but were reduced to salt meat only, which is pretty hard fare. the hardest part was, that the captain had his wife and two children on board, and for the youngest child a goat had been provided to supply milk. this became a scarce article as there was no food for the goat. so every day the carpenter used to plane up a piece of wood to make shavings for the goat to eat. it got along as well or better than any of us. finally, on the 10th of march, in the morning early, we had reached near to the old head of kinsale, and near to cork, when we saw a boat pulling off to us. this proved to be a pilot-boat. the pilot got on board, and told us that ours was the first vessel that could be boarded in six weeks, the weather having been so bad, and that only a few days before the mail-carrier between clonakilty and cork had been frozen to death on his journey. the pilot brought us a few potatoes, which gave us one each and two for the captain's wife, and the next morning we got safely into queenstown, where we were able to get a good supply of milk, bread, butter, and eggs, of which we all made pretty free use, and with a few days' rest we forgot all our late cares, as sailors usually do. after being in port a few days we all left the "tropic," and i spent a couple of weeks in seeing cork and the beautiful country where the people are so genial and hospitable. after seeing all i wanted to see, i took steamer from cork for bristol, spent one day there, and then left by train for london. the train left in the evening, and here a rather amusing incident occurred. i had taken a second-class ticket, and after taking my seat, it being cold weather, i prepared to make myself comfortable for the night. in my valise i had a rough sealskin or esquimau jacket with a hood to it. i put this on and was nice and warm, sitting in the corner of the carriage. shortly afterwards a man in livery came in and sat in the corner opposite to me. then came an old lady and her husband, an irish army officer returning to india. the old lady was helped in by the gentleman, but as soon as she saw me she cried out, "o lord!" and fell back. then the old gentleman boosted her in again, saying, "go in, you old stupid!" and after the second attempt she gave it up, saying she wouldn't travel in a menagerie. she had taken me for a bear, and the man in livery for my keeper. the old gentleman got in, and she remained on the platform until i assured her that there was no danger. then she came in very reluctantly and sat as far away as possible until we reached bath, where the man in livery alighted. after that the old lady, her husband, and i became good friends for the remainder of the journey. memory for voices. after the bear incident i spent some time in london, then joined the emigrant ship "oriental," bound to adelaide, south australia. i was third officer. we took on board about one hundred families of excellently selected farm labourers, shepherds, and ploughmen, and after having made a good voyage arrived safely in adelaide. the immigration commissioners came on board and inspected the passengers. the result was most satisfactory. there was no complaint of ill-treatment or deficiency in supplies, and in less than thirty-six hours every family was engaged and sent into the country. and the commissioners awarded to our doctor fifty pounds sterling, the chief officer fifty pounds for his supervision, and myself fifty pounds for the supervision of the commissariat department. after a short stay in adelaide, we sailed for madras, in india, and after a good voyage we arrived and anchored in the evening when it was quite dark. there was quite a number of native business men came off in catamarans and "mussulah," or surf-boats. among the number was one noble-looking man, who stepped up near to our captain and, addressing him, said, "how do you do, captain mackintosh?" "how do you know my name is mackintosh?" "by your voice, sahib. when you were here in the 'lady mary harrison,' eighteen years ago, i was your dubash." this was quite correct. this man recognized the captain's voice after all these years. in 1879 i had a similar experience in my own case. i was travelling in scotland, and in edinburgh i met some friends and inquired for an old lady whom i had known as a child. i found that she was living at a place called aberladye, on the seacoast. i decided to go to see her, and was directed to take the train to dreme station, and there i should find a conveyance to take me to aberladye. when i arrived the conveyance was filled with local travellers and i started to walk three and a half miles to my friend. after i had gone about half a mile i passed by a magnificent entrance to a fine estate. soon after this i heard a carriage coming, and when it caught up to me the gentleman who was driving in the dog-cart pulled up and asked if i was going to aberladye and invited me to take a lift. i thanked him and mounted beside him. he asked where i wanted to go. i told him to rose cottage, when we entered into general conversation. he learned that i was from china, so we had quite a pleasant time, and, arriving opposite to rose cottage, he pulled up and graciously pointed to the house, bade me good-bye, and hoped we might meet again. i went up to the door and rang the bell, and the old lady herself answered it all in a flutter, as she had seen me set down from the trap, which was driven by lord rosebery himself. well, i asked if mrs. mckippen lived there. she replied, "yes; i am she." i said, "perhaps you don't remember me?" she said, "no; but i know your voice." i told her that i was arthur knights. "aye, laddie," she cried, "i heard that you was drowned at sea twenty-five years ago." well, i need hardly say that i was welcome to her and her husband, who was a retired business man. poor old gentleman, he cried as a child when she told him of my taking the trouble to come and see her, and how when i was a small boy at a juvenile party i was sore distressed by my dancing slippers being too big and that they kept slipping off. then she came to the rescue and took me to one side and stitched them to the heel of my stocking to enable me to have a good time. i spent a couple of days with my friends and then went on my way, and i have often wondered whether that lady could possibly have connected my manhood voice with that of my childhood. an incident of the great taiping rebellion. in the latter part of 1862 i left shanghai on my usual voyage to hankow. this port is six hundred miles up the yangtse river. after we had got about sixty miles up the river, which is here about ten miles wide, our attention was drawn to a number of human bodies floating down the river, most of them mutilated. this lasted about thirty hours. as we steamed along near the shore, the farmers, with their families, were for miles gathered here and there, gesticulating, prostrating themselves, and praying for us to take them on board. the poor creatures were between the imperialist soldiers and the rebels, or taipings. both of these parties were ravaging, devastating, and destroying all before them, and the poor peasants had a very hard time. we could not help these poor creatures, and had to pass on our way. on the third day we passed a city called taiping foo, "foo" meaning "city" in chinese. we afterwards learned that for some months the inhabitants of the city had withstood a siege from both belligerents, and one day the imperialist general conferred with the taotai, or mayor, and said that it was well known that the inhabitants had been very good and had not favored the rebels, and now if they would open their gates to the imperial soldiers, he would promise them kind treatment; and the people were weak enough to believe him and opened the city gates, and in a few hours nearly the whole population was butchered and thrown into the river, and those were they whom we had seen floating in clusters a few days before. conclusion. in the course of my journey through life i have been in many strange places, and have met many strange people. i have seen many strange sights--some grave, some gay. for many years i was on passenger-carrying ships, and have carried many travellers, amongst whom some strong and enduring attachments have been made. although i have been in some bad places, and met some "hard characters," yet was i never molested in any country in which i have been. i have seen some misfortunes, but was never depressed by them. i could always see around me others who stood in need of help. i have spent a long life in foreign lands, and happily i can now look back upon the past and say that i have found much good in all the lands which almighty god has permitted me to visit. my motto has always been, never despair; persevere, and never give up hope. and now with the most happy memories of the past i can look back without a moment's regret and ask god to bless all those who have been good to me. and who has not been good? an appeal to the british nation, on the humanity and policy of forming a national institution, for the preservation of lives and property from shipwreck. by sir william hillary, baronet. author of "a plan for the construction of a steam life boat and for the extinguishment of fire at sea;" "suggestions for the improvement and embellishment of the metropolis," and "a sketch of ireland in 1824." _third edition._ london: printed for geo. b. whittaker, ave-maria-lane. 1825. to the king. sire, from your majesty's exalted station as sovereign of the greatest maritime power on earth, and from the ardent zeal with which you have graciously extended your royal patronage to every measure which could promote the welfare and the glory of the british navy, i have presumed, with the utmost deference, to dedicate the following pages to your majesty. with the most dutiful respect, i have the honour to subscribe myself, sire, your majesty's most devoted subject and servant, william hillary. introduction to the second edition[a]. the few pages of which the present edition is composed, were principally written under the circumstances there stated, which had forcibly called my attention to the fatal effects of those ever-recurring tempests, which scatter devastation and misery round our coasts, where the veteran commander and his hardy crew, with their helpless passengers of every age and station in life, are left wretchedly to perish from the want of that succour which it has become my object earnestly to solicit for these destitute victims of the storm. another winter has scarcely yet commenced, and our coasts are spread over with the shattered fragments of more than two hundred vessels, which, in one fatal tempest, have been stranded on the british shores, attended with an appalling havoc of human life, beyond all present means to ascertain its extent, besides the loss of property to an enormous amount. and shall these fearful warnings also be without avail? shall we still close our eyes on conviction, until further catastrophes wring from us those reluctant efforts, which ought to spring spontaneously from a benevolent people? with the most ample means for the rescue of thousands of human beings from a watery grave, shall we still leave them to their fate? shall we hear unmoved of this widely-spread destruction, and not each contribute to those exertions, to which the common charities of human nature, and the certainty of the direful evils we might avert, and the sufferings we might assuage, ought to incite us to lend our utmost aid? the conflicting fury of the elements, the darkness of night, the disasters of the sea, and the dangers of the adjacent shores, but too frequently combine to place the unhappy mariner beyond the power of human relief. but if all cannot be rescued, must all therefore be left to perish? if every effort cannot be attended with success, must not any attempt be made to mitigate these terrible calamities, which bring home the evil to our very doors, and force conviction on us by their desolating effects, and by the destruction of hundreds of our countrymen, whose wretched remains perpetually strew our shores?--whilst we pause, they continue to perish; whilst we procrastinate, the work of destruction pursues its course; and each delay of another winter, in the adoption of measures more commensurate with the extent of these deplorable events, is attended with the sacrifice--perhaps of a thousand human lives. even were the preservation of the vessels and their cargoes alone the objects of our care, the present want of all system for such a purpose is, in its consequences, as lavish of property as it is of life; and from the vast amount now annually lost on our shores, infinitely more might unquestionably be preserved to the commercial interests of the country, by the establishment of the institution proposed, than its support would cost to the nation on its most extended scale. actuated by these impressions, i have sought by every argument to rouse the dormant energies of a brave and a humane people to the rescue of their fellow-creatures; and through the ardent zeal, the generous enterprise, and the liberal bounty of a great nation, to awaken every feeling which can stimulate to the effort, and provide every means which can insure its success. in our great insular empire, almost all individuals, from the most exalted and powerful in the land to the lowly and obscure, are at some period of their lives induced, by their various avocations and pursuits, to leave their own coasts. the brave seamen, the gallant soldiers, and the various subjects of these realms, of all ranks and degrees, are to be found traversing every stormy sea, and exposed to peril on every dangerous shore. this is not then an object for which the great and the affluent are called on for the relief of the humble and the destitute alone--the cause is individual, national, and universal, perhaps beyond any other which has ever yet been addressed to a country for support. it appeals equally to personal interest and to national policy--to private benevolence and to public justice; and each who thus extends the benefits of his efforts and his bounty to his countrymen and to mankind, may also be contributing to the future safety of his family, his friends, or himself. in the pursuit of this arduous undertaking, i have felt it to be a duty i owed to the cause of which i have thus become an advocate, to offer my views to those of every class and department, who, from their humanity, their talents, or their station, are the most calculated, or the best enabled, to promote this great object of national benevolence. i have dedicated this cause, with all deference, to a most gracious sovereign; i have addressed myself in its behalf to his ministers; and i have appealed to various distinguished individuals, to almost all the great national and benevolent institutions in the kingdom, to the commercial and shipping interests, and to the public at large, for the support of an object well worthy the deep attention of the greatest naval power of the present or of any former age, for the rescue of her numerous seamen and subjects from one of the most frequent and most awful of all the various calamities which desolate the human race. from the same motives, i have most respectfully submitted this national and international system to the sovereigns and governments of the principal maritime powers of europe and of america; and i avail myself with pleasure of the present occasion, to express my grateful acknowledgments for the promptitude with which several of their ministers, resident at this court, have transmitted it to their respective governments. encouraged to persevere in my endeavours, by the flattering support and approbation of many distinguished and enlightened characters, i am induced to hope that the day is not remote, when this contemplated institution may be established on a permanent basis, by the united energies of a noble and a benevolent nation, to whose support such a cause has never yet been addressed in vain. the interest which this subject has already excited, has induced me to commit another edition of my pamphlet to the press; whilst the magnitude and vital importance of these objects, to our country and to mankind,--on our own and every foreign shore,--in the present and every future age,--will, i trust, best plead my excuse as a retired individual, and acquit me from the charge of presumption, in having had the temerity to submit my views to the consideration of so many illustrious personages, and for the earnest solicitude with which i have addressed myself to the humanity, the benevolence, and the justice of the british nation. 10th november, 1823. footnote: [a] the introduction to the second edition and the following pamphlet were published previously to the formation of "the royal national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck," which it originally projected, as will be obvious by reference to dates and to the accompanying appendix. an appeal, _&c._ for many years, and in various countries, the melancholy and fatal shipwrecks which i have witnessed, have excited a powerful interest in my mind for the situation of those who are exposed to these awful calamities; but the idea of the advantages which would result from the establishment of a national institution, for the preservation of human life from the perils of the sea, first suggested itself to me during my residence on a part of the coast, often exposed to the most distressing scenes of misery, and where the dreadful storms of the last autumn prevailed with unusual violence. on some occasions, it has been my lot to witness the loss of many valuable lives, under circumstances, where, had there been establishments previously formed for affording prompt relief, and encouragement given to those who might volunteer in such a cause, in all probability the greater part would have been rescued from destruction. at other times i have seen the noblest instances of self-devotion; men have saved the lives of their fellow-creatures at the peril of their own, without a prospect of reward if successful, and with the certainty that their families would be left destitute if they perished. from these considerations, i have been induced to wish, that the results of the experience, talent, and genius of the most distinguished commanders, and men of science, should be united in the formation of one great institution, which would in itself embrace every possible means for the preservation of life from the hazards of shipwreck. though many individuals have employed their time, their attention, and often exposed their personal safety for this object, yet nearly the whole of the most extensive and dangerous parts of our coasts are left without any means having been adopted, any precautions taken, for rendering assistance to vessels in distress; and, winter after winter, we have the most afflicting details of the consequences attendant on this lamentable apathy to human misery--an awful destruction of life, on almost every shore which surrounds the british dominions: acts have even sometimes been perpetrated at which humanity shudders, and which have caused other nations to cast reproach and opprobrium on the british name. but individual efforts, however meritorious in themselves, are unequal to produce all the benefits contemplated, or to remedy all the evils, attendant on one of the most tremendous of perils to which human nature is exposed, and which is most likely to fall upon those who are in the very prime of manhood, and in the discharge of the most active and important duties of life. from the calamity of shipwreck no one can say that he may at all times remain free; and whilst he is now providing only for the safety of others, a day may come which will render the cause his own. these are not arguments founded on the visionary contemplation of remote or improbable dangers. their urgent necessity must be obvious to every mind. so long as man shall continue to navigate the ocean, and the tempests shall hold their course over its surface, in every age and on every coast, disasters by sea, shipwrecks, and peril to human life, must inevitably take place; and with this terrible certainty before our eyes, the duty becomes imperative, that we should use every means to obviate and to mitigate the deplorable consequences. this subject in a peculiar manner appeals to the british people collectively and individually. for ages, our seamen have been the acknowledged support of our splendour and our power; and until every thing which the ingenuity of man can suggest, and every inducement and regulation which social institutions can offer and arrange, have been combined into one great plan for their safety, we shall be wanting in our best duties to them, to our country, and to ourselves. local associations cannot call forth the energy which such a cause demands at our hands; they are only partial benefits, whilst the great evil remains unredressed. we have many noble institutions, widely spread through the extent of the british dominions, supported by voluntary contributions, and exalting our name above that of every other nation by our disinterested efforts in the cause of humanity; whilst this great and vital object to every briton, seems alone to have been strangely and unaccountably overlooked, or only partially undertaken. our coasts are surrounded by land-marks as a guide by day, and lights and beacons by night; our mariners are furnished with charts of every sea, every rock is pointed out, every shoal set down, and every channel buoyed. pilots are to be found at the entrance of every port, and all that science, indefatigable labour, and liberal expenditure can effect, to warn the seaman of his danger, and to prevent vessels from being wrecked,--all has long, and ardently, and ably been studied and accomplished. whilst the vessels are yet secure, every safeguard is at their command, amply supplied by public associations, or by the state; and towards which, on their safe arrival in port, they contribute their quota for the benefits they have received,--and all must but too often prove in vain; many may thus be warned of their danger, and be saved; shipwrecks will still continue to take place, despite of all human means, and their crews be exposed to every species of peril and distress,--but what then becomes their fate? wretched, exhausted, and in the last extremity of danger, on whom does their rescue devolve? to what body or class of men, or to which of our numerous departments, does it now become an honourable and an imperative duty to afford them assistance in this their utmost need?--where are the national funds for such an object, to supply ample means for the hazardous attempt, to reward the brave efforts of those who succeed, or to relieve the destitute families of those who perish in so honourable a cause? the melancholy catastrophe closed, every human being on board having perished, or having quitted their shattered vessel in despair; the laws and usages of recompense are clearly defined;--salvage for the property preserved, in proportion to its amount. but in the dreadful crisis between these two extremes, does one law of the land, or one national institution, hold out the established claim to certain reward for a life saved? in the nineteenth century, surrounded by every improvement and institution which the benevolent can suggest, or the art of man accomplish for the mitigation or prevention of human ills, will it for a moment be capable of belief, that there does not, in all our great and generous land, exist one national institution which has for its direct object the rescue of human life from shipwreck? the protection of property is in every stage a subject of legislation and of care;--the rescue of life from shipwreck has never yet been adopted as a national and a legislative object. with the exception of the recompenses voluntarily given by the liberal institution of lloyd's, the very few associations scattered thinly on the coasts, and the valuable inventions and gallant efforts of those brave and enlightened individuals who do honour to their country, our shipwrecked seamen are left in this awful situation, to the spontaneous exertions of enterprise and humanity, the chance of the moment, or the mercy of the winds and waves;--or rather let us say, to a greater mercy, and a higher power. it may be thought that this picture is overcharged; but unhappily, i believe it will be found too faithfully correct. i am firmly convinced, that these appalling facts have never yet reached the great majority of the nation; but the veil once withdrawn, the honour, the justice, and the humanity of britain will be deeply compromised, if the evil is not promptly and effectually redressed;--not any human means should be spared to atone for the past, and to alleviate the future. in bringing this deeply interesting subject before the public, it is my ardent hope that it may call forth the attention of those better qualified to bring to perfection so important a work. let this great national object but once engage the attention of the public mind, and not any thing can arrest its course. the power of united effort, in the attainment of any great work of national benevolence, has never yet failed of success. the institution i have in view is equally a claim of justice and of benevolence; it peculiarly belongs to the greatest maritime nation in existence, and will, i trust, be deemed worthy the attention of the admiralty of england, who have so long held their high station with as much honour to themselves as benefit to their country. by whose immediate patronage the first measures for the organization of such a system may be honoured, or under the sanction of what names the requisite public meetings to carry them into effect may be announced, it would be the utmost presumption in me to anticipate; but it appears to me, that the immediate assembling of such meetings in london, would best contribute to the establishment of this institution on a permanent and extensive foundation. to the consideration of such meetings, i must respectfully beg leave to submit: that a national institution should be formed, equally worthy of great britain, important to humanity, and beneficial to the naval and commercial interests of the united empire; having for its objects, _first_, the preservation of human life from shipwreck; which should always be considered as the first great and permanent object of the institution, _secondly_, assistance to vessels in distress, which immediately connects itself with the safety of the crews. _thirdly_, the preservation of vessels and property, when not so immediately connected with the lives of the people, or after the crews and passengers shall already have been rescued. _fourthly_, the prevention of plunder and depredations in case of shipwreck. _fifthly_, the succour and support of those persons who may be rescued; the promptly obtaining of medical aid, food, clothing, and shelter for those whose destitute situation may require such relief, with the means to forward them to their homes, friends, or countries. the people and vessels of every nation, whether in peace or in war, to be equally objects of this institution; and the efforts to be made, and the recompenses to be given for their rescue, to be in all cases the same as for british subjects and british vessels. _sixthly_, the bestowing of suitable rewards on those who rescue the lives of others from shipwreck, or who assist vessels in distress; and the supplying of relief to the destitute widows or families of the brave men who unhappily may lose their lives in such meritorious attempts. the objects of the institution being thus defined, and having, i hope, already obtained the powerful support of those illustrious personages and distinguished characters in the state, under whose fostering care, as patrons and presidents, the system would have the best prospect of being brought to maturity; it would only be requisite to proceed to the next duty of the meeting, which would be the formation of a numerous committee, including liberal and enlightened men from all classes and departments, naval and military officers, members of the trinity house and of lloyd's, merchants and commanders in the east india and other services, &c. in addition to this central committee, it would be requisite, in order to carry the objects of the association into active execution, that branches of the institution, and subject to its rules, should be formed in all the principal ports, and on the most dangerous sea-coasts of the united kingdom; each having its own separate committee, in direct communication with that in london. but, on the general central meetings of presidents and committee in london, would devolve the primary measures for the permanent establishment of the institution; the general system of finance, the formation of rules and regulations, and the plans for giving activity and effect to the whole. perhaps it might facilitate the progress of the measures in view, if the labour were divided, and two or more separate committees or boards were formed from the whole, consisting of individuals best qualified for the objects of each separate department, whose reports, before being finally adopted, should receive the sanction of the institution at large. under this view of the subject, a committee of finance would be desirable, whose duty, in the first instance, would be to arrange and pursue the best and most active measures to diffuse a general knowledge of the objects and principles of the association; and to obtain donations and subscriptions, for the purpose of carrying them into effect. from the peculiarly interesting nature of this institution, it is to be presumed, that this part of their duty would be found easy in its progress, and successful in its results. when we see long columns filled with the first names in the country, with large sums placed opposite to them, for objects temporary in their nature, and small in importance compared with the present, which contemplates the rescue of thousands of human beings now in existence, and an incalculable number yet unborn, from one of the most tremendous of all perils,--who is there, to whom such an institution once became known, that would refuse his aid? it is a cause which extends from the palace to the cottage, in which politics and party cannot have any share, and which addresses itself with equal force to all the best feelings of every class in the state. the names of every branch of the royal family are to be found at the head of all the benevolent institutions of the empire. from the nobility and gentry large donations and subscriptions may naturally be expected. the clergy of every class will, no doubt, be foremost in the cause of humanity. to the whole body of the navy, the marines, and to the army, who, in the prosecution of their professional duties, encounter so many of the dangers of the sea, such an appeal will never be made in vain. can it be supposed that there is one east india director, one member of lloyd's, an under-writer, a merchant, a shipowner, or commander in the india or merchants' service, from whom a subscription, liberal in proportion to his means, will not be obtained? nor will the generous aid of any class of society, i am persuaded, be wanting for such a purpose; and as a stimulus to the whole, by example in their donations, and by the widely-extended circle of their influence, the british females of every station in life will, i am convinced, particularly distinguish themselves in aid of this cause. from these opinions, which i so confidently entertain of the humanity and liberality of the british people, i rest firmly persuaded, that the most ample means will be easily and speedily obtained for every possible expenditure which can attend the objects of this institution. when the funds shall have been once established, the duty of the committee will be, to have the permanent superintendence and regulation of their finance under the proper control of the whole society. a second board, or committee, should be formed from the most experienced and enlightened officers of the navy, seamen, engineers, and scientific men, for the purpose of carrying the direct objects of the institution into effect. one of the most important duties of this committee will be to combine, in a clear, concise, and well-digested system, the result of the joint knowledge and experience of the whole body, in plain and simple language, divested as much as possible of technical phraseology, and capable of being understood by every individual. this code of instruction should comprise the best and most prompt measures to be adopted in every sort of danger to which a vessel can be exposed, and on whatever kind of coast, in order that the most effectual assistance may be given, with the least possible loss of time, and with such means as in remote situations can most probably be obtained; and the committee should be requested to report, from time to time, the result of those measures which they had found from experience to be most successful; whilst every friend to such a cause, who might suggest an invention or a means to facilitate these objects, would be certain, that in this committee his plans would receive the most attentive consideration from those who would possess the power and the inclination to carry them into effect. it will be desirable that this committee should suggest the most eligible plans for permanent establishments in all sea-ports, road-steads, and resorts for shipping, and particularly on remote, wild, and exposed parts of the coast, where lifeboats, anchors, cables, hawsers, and the beneficial inventions of those enlightened and highly patriotic officers, sir william congreve, captains marryat, manby, dansey, mr. trengrouse, and various other meritorious individuals, should be kept in constant readiness for use, with every means for the preservation of lives in danger, and the assistance of vessels in distress, according to the nature of the coasts on which the respective depã´ts may be established. the purchase, safe custody, and control over the stores of the institution, their being deposited in places best situated for instant issue on every emergency, and always in a state fit for immediate service, are objects which demand the utmost circumspection and care. this department is perhaps the most important of the whole--it is the operative; and on its judicious arrangements, the means of prompt and effectual efforts, the success of the most hazardous undertakings, the safety of those employed, and the rescue of those in peril, will unquestionably depend. for these purposes, as well as every other connected with the institution, the respective committees proposed to be formed, in every port, and on every coast, will be of the most essential use. the zeal, and other requisite qualities, which the members of such committees may naturally be supposed to possess, point them out as the most eligible persons to have the immediate direction of the measures to be adopted. from them also it is to be expected that the most experienced in nautical affairs may be selected to command. to that department under which boats are to go out, and men are to risk their lives, for the rescue of those who may be in danger, the utmost attention is due: that, when they are so employed, it shall be under the direction of the most skilful advice which the occasion can afford; that their boats and equipments shall be such as best to insure their safety; and that the crews shall be selected from the bravest and most experienced persons who can be found. to insure order and promptitude on these occasions, where the least delay or indecision may cause the loss of all opportunity of acting with effect, a previous and, as far as practicable, a permanent arrangement should be formed. volunteers should be invited to enrol themselves from amongst the resident pilots, seamen, fishermen, boatmen, and others, in sufficient numbers to insure the greatest probability of having every aid at hand, which, in the moment of danger, may be requisite. each man should have his department previously assigned, and the whole should act under their respective leaders. to these regulations might be added a system of signals, equally available by night or by day, through which persons on board of vessels in distress could communicate the nature of the assistance of which they stood in need; and those on shore warn them of any danger, inform them of the succour they were going to afford, or give them any instructions requisite to their safety. in addition to these means, a great source of assistance to vessels in distress might be secured to be at all times within reach, by permanent and judicious arrangements with pilot companies, steam vessels, anchor vessels, harbour boats, trawl and other fishing boats, which, under proper indemnities, and for reasonable remuneration, would doubtless at all times contribute their aid, and act under the regulations of the institution; it might also be advantageous, on many parts of the coast, to give premiums to those owners of boats who should have them fitted up with air tight cases, casks or cork, so as to answer the purpose of life boats, and who should constantly keep them in that state, ready for immediate service. at the same time care should be taken not to trammel by unnecessary regulations the spontaneous efforts of those, who, actuated by a generous ardour, on the emergency of the moment, seize on the first means which present themselves, and often accomplish their object in a manner which, to a cooler calculation, would appear impracticable. to expect a large body of men to enrol themselves, and be in constant readiness to risk their own lives for the preservation of those whom they have never known or seen, perhaps of another nation, merely because they are fellow-creatures in extreme peril, is to pay the highest possible compliment to my countrymen; and that on every coast there are such men, has been fully evinced, even under the present want of system, when the best means for their purpose are not supplied; when they are without any certainty of reward; and act under the peculiarly appalling consideration, that if they perish, they may leave wives, children, and every one destitute who depend on them for support. if, under such discouragement, we every year have so many instances of self-devotion, what might not be expected from the same men, when they knew that in the performance of their arduous duties, every possible means to execute them, with safety to themselves, and success to the objects of their efforts, would be supplied; that if they succeeded, they would be honoured and recompensed, according to their merits and situation in life; and if it were their lot to perish in so noble a cause, they had at least the consolation to know, beyond a doubt, that their families would not be left to deplore their loss in unassisted poverty? to these objects the institution ought unquestionably to extend, or it would be unworthy of the great country to which it belonged, and of the high patronage with which i hope it may be honoured. nor will i suppose that those whom i have specified are the only persons who will take an active part on such occasions. there is another class, who, from what i have individually seen, will, i am certain, become able and zealous leaders,--not only the employed, but the half-pay officers of the navy, now so widely spread over the coasts of the united kingdom. living in retirement in time of peace, they would not allow their energies to sleep when their brother seamen were in danger, but come forward with the conscious feeling, that those distinguished characters who preside over the british navy, would regard such meritorious services as being in the direct path of honour; and that to rescue a human being from the perils of shipwreck would not be less acceptable to their country than to subdue her enemies in battle. the romans rewarded with the civic crown those who had saved the life of a fellow citizen. our late venerable sovereign conferred the baronetage on the gallant viscount exmouth, then captain pellew, for his noble and successful efforts, at the extreme hazard of his own life, to save the crew of an east indiaman, wrecked at plymouth, when the situation of every one on board appeared beyond the reach of human aid. the whole class of the preventive service, with many departments of the revenue, could not be more honourably employed, and they must naturally feel that their brave exertions, on such occasions, would be fully estimated. the assistance of medical men, who would enrol themselves to be ready to attend, might frequently be of the utmost importance to succour and restore those who might have sustained severe injury, or whose lives might be nearly extinct; and it is confidently to be hoped, that the happiest consequences would frequently result, from having always ready for use, the apparatus of the royal humane society for restoring suspended animation--also by the circulation of their instructions for the treatment of persons in that situation. there is not perhaps any subject connected with this proposed institution, more worthy of its utmost attention and care, than the protection of persons and property from the cruel rapacity of those abandoned marauders, who, on some parts of our coasts, have but too long followed a practice disgraceful to a civilized state, and dangerous in its example as fatal to its victims, of plundering from wrecks, and there is much reason to fear, often suffering to perish, from want of assistance, many who might otherwise have been rescued from peril, and restored to their friends and their country; but by means of the numerous establishments of this institution, the effects of a better example, the stimulus of rewards given for the preservation of life, the vigilant care and the vigorous measures which in such cases would unquestionably be pursued, it is confidently to be hoped that such atrocities would be heard of no more on our shores. in time of war, it might be advisable that a limited number of known, steady, and brave seamen, who had already distinguished themselves on these occasions, should be protected from the impress, by belonging to this service. the number need not be large, as the retired veterans of the navy, and the fishermen on the coast, would constitute the majority to be employed. the nature and extent of the recompenses for time and trouble, and the reward of those who hazard their own lives in the rescue of others, would form another important branch of the institution for the labours of this committee. the qualifications for these rewards naturally form themselves into classes. first, in case of successful efforts, where persons, at the risk of their own lives, save from imminent peril those of their fellow-creatures,--it should be established, beyond all doubt, that they should receive such reward for each life saved, as the institution, on mature consideration, may determine. this might be fixed at not less than a certain sum, with power to extend it to a greater amount, to be decided by the committee, according to the nature of the case; but, at all events, to the smallest of these rewards the parties to have an absolute claim, on furnishing unquestionable evidence of having saved a life. in many cases of persons rescued from the wreck, saved amongst rocks, or when found washed by the breakers on shore, particularly on remote coasts, but too often exposed to scenes of lawless depredation, the parties should equally be entitled to reward. where lives are saved, without those employed hazarding their own, they should at least receive the smaller of the premiums conferred. rewards should also be given where every possible effort has been made, though unhappily without success. when vessels are actually in distress, proportionate premiums should be given to the first, second, and other boats which get alongside, and for other assistance. remunerations should be given, and every inducement held out, for the prevention of plunder, and for the preservation of lives and vessels, in every situation of danger to which they may become exposed. when a life is saved by a person who had been equally fortunate on a former occasion, his reward should be larger, and increase progressively for other successful efforts. in case of crime, the second offence is punished more severely than the first, and the third than the second. in meritorious acts, it were only sound policy that the rewards should bear a similar proportion. where an individual perishes in his attempts to rescue lives from shipwreck, or when assisting vessels in distress, his wife, children, or aged parents, if dependent on him for support, should have every relief which it may become practicable to give, and according to the particular circumstances of the case. the institution should also recompense for severe injuries, ascertained to have been unquestionably sustained in the actual performance of such services. ample and general powers should be given to confer rewards for such other acts as the committee may consider justly entitled to them. it might, perhaps, also be worthy the consideration of the institution at large, whether any badge or medal conferred on a man who had saved a life from shipwreck at the hazard of his own, might not have a very powerful effect. to many minds, even in the humblest walks of life, such a recompense would be more acceptable than a pecuniary reward, whilst a laudable ambition might be thus excited in others to imitate so meritorious an example--thus holding out every species of inducement, to the brave and the generous--to the humble but humane, to render their utmost aid to the shipwrecked of every land, in the moment of their extreme distress. to receive applications for rewards, to examine into the nature and extent of services performed, and to make reports, and forward certificates and recommendations to the general committee, would become one of the most important duties of the local departments, on the judicious and faithful performance of which the honour and credit of the institution would materially depend. these appear to me to be the principal objects to which the attention of the committees should be directed, in the original formation of the establishment, and subject to the decision of the general meetings of the institution, to whom their reports should be submitted. it is to be presumed that various parts of the interior of the united kingdom will furnish considerable funds to the institution, without calling upon it for any supplies; that many of the great sea-ports may perhaps raise means equal to the amount of their expenditure, in their immediate district; whilst there is a vast extent of the most rugged coast lying far distant from any prompt assistance, on which, above all others, vessels are exposed to the greatest danger. for such places, establishments could only be formed at a considerable expense; it being obvious, that from the solitude and remoteness of the surrounding country, only small pecuniary aid could be obtained; yet in these situations the seamen and fishermen ought to be stimulated by every possible incitement to take an active and decided part in the cause of humanity; since on these very coasts the vessels belonging to the most distant ports might be lost, and the relatives of those who resided in the very interior of the kingdom might perish. the cause, therefore, becomes common to all, and it will be of the highest importance to its success, that arrangements should be formed between the central committee and the district associations, that, united in funds and in measures, they may as much as possible act in concert, in carrying the objects contemplated into the fullest effect through the whole extent of the british dominions. how far it may be desirable to apply for an act of parliament, or to establish the institution into a chartered association, will remain for the general committee to decide, when the whole has assumed a distinct form. it is also probable that great advantages might result from the investigations of a committee of the house of commons into the insufficiency of the enactments and regulations now in force for the preservation of life, and the prevention of plunder, from vessels which may be wrecked within the jurisdiction of our laws. i also venture, with deference, to recommend, that other maritime nations should be invited to form similar establishments, so far as accords with their respective laws and usages, and to concur in mutual arrangements with great britain for the reciprocal aid of the subjects and vessels of each other. nor is the universal adoption of this system more imperatively demanded, by those feelings which should incite us to afford the most prompt assistance to the people of every country who may be in danger of shipwreck on our shores, than it is consistent with a wise and enlightened policy, which should extend our views from our own immediate coasts, to the most remote quarters of the globe, and to every neighbouring state; more particularly from the entrance of the english channel to the frozen regions of the north. and when we recollect the vast commercial fleets which the enterprise of our merchants adventures into every sea, and during every season; when more than a thousand sail of british vessels pass the sound of the baltic each year; ought we not to bear in mind to what hazards the subjects and vessels of great britain are constantly exposed, on the whole of so extended a coast, and in every stormy and dangerous sea? and shall we not be wanting to them and to humanity, if we do not endeavour to obtain for our own shipwrecked countrymen, in every foreign land, the same effectual aid in the hour of danger, which, i doubt not, it will become one of the proudest objects of this institution to extend to the vessels of every nation which may be in distress on the british shores?--even during the most arduous prosecution of war, the cause of humanity, and the progress of civilization, would be eminently promoted by these noble and generous efforts, for the rescue of those, whom the fury of the elements had divested of all hostile character, and thrown helpless and powerless on a foreign coast. thus would nations be drawn by mutual benefits into more strict bonds of amity during peace, and thus might the rigours of war be ameliorated, by having one common object of benevolence remaining; in the exercise of which the jealousies and angry passions incident to a state of hostility could not have any part with a generous and a high-minded people; whilst the experience and penetration of liberal and enlightened governments could, without difficulty, form such arrangements as would prevent that which was intended as a benefit to mankind, from being made subservient to any political abuse. my utmost wishes would be accomplished by seeing these international regulations established, in connexion with one great institution, to extend to the most remote province of the empire, on the exalted principle, that wherever the british flag should fly, her seamen should be protected; and that those who risked their own lives to save their fellow-creatures from the perils of shipwreck should be honoured and rewarded; whilst every stranger, whom the disasters of the sea may cast on her shores, should never look for refuge in vain. douglas, isle of man, 28th feb. 1823. appendix. a year had scarcely elapsed after the first edition of the preceding pamphlet was committed to the press, when the great object it recommended was accomplished, with an unanimity and a promptitude which the irresistible power of such a cause could alone effect, by the establishment of the royal national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck;--district associations on a very extended scale have also been formed in the county of norfolk, and on various other important parts of the coast, avowedly founded on the plan which this work had projected. it has therefore become expedient, in the future circulation of this pamphlet, to add a few pages, containing authentic statements of those proceedings by which the institution was organized--how cordially this measure has been received and adopted, and how much in conformity with that outline which i had ventured to offer to the consideration of my country, these documents will best evince. it will at the same time be seen, that the resolutions of the general meeting do not extend to the remuneration of the salvors of property in cases of shipwreck, where not immediately connected with the preservation of life, it having been the opinion of the provisional committee that the existing laws had already made such regulations as to render that measure unnecessary. in reference to those passages which treat of the rewards to be conferred for services which may be performed, and more particularly as to the relief to be afforded to the destitute families of those who unhappily may perish in their attempts to preserve the lives of others, it will be obvious that the extent of such recompenses and relief must of necessity be guided by those means, which the liberality of the nation may supply--at the same time, i have the utmost satisfaction in stating the humane declaration of the institution, that their operations will be limited only by the amount of those funds which may be placed at their disposal, or the number of cases calling for assistance; and i most sincerely concur in the confident hope which the central committee express, that the contributions may be so general as not only to give present effect, but also permanence, to this great national undertaking. honoured, as this institution has been, by the high patronage of the king, and of his illustrious family--constituted a royal institution by his majesty's gracious command--sanctioned by many of the most distinguished characters in the church and state, and sustained by the bounty of a generous nation--it is not for me to have the presumption to offer my acknowledgements, for that support which the cause of our shipwrecked fellow-creatures has obtained from the sovereign and the people of this great country. but there are some names, the omission of which would be an act of injustice--the gentlemen of the provisional committee, who prepared the way for that success which attended the public meeting, over which his grace the archbishop of canterbury presided, in a manner as advantageous to the measures which he so essentially contributed to promote, as honourable to his own benevolent feelings; and the equally zealous members of the central committee, who now so ably conduct the affairs of the institution, are eminently entitled to the warmest thanks of every friend of this cause, for their early and important exertions in its establishment, of whom i may perhaps be permitted to name thomas wilson, esq. one of the representatives in parliament for the city of london, and george hibbert, esq. as having been amongst the foremost in affording their valuable co-operation in the formation of this institution. it only remains for me to express the heartfelt satisfaction which i experience, in witnessing the attainment of this object of my most earnest solicitude, and in the firm conviction with which i am impressed, that this institution is now established on principles which will extend its beneficial effects to the most distant shores, and to generations yet unborn. william hillary. may 29, 1824. no. i. _circular, convening a preliminary and select meeting, to consider of the suggestions in the pamphlet by sir william hillary, bart. of an institution for the rescue of lives from shipwreck._ no. 33, new broad street, february 4, 1824. sir, you are respectfully requested to attend at the city of london tavern, on thursday, the 12th instant, at twelve for one o'clock precisely, to confer on certain measures which will then be submitted, and to determine on the expedience of calling a general meeting in london, for the formation of a "national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck." i have the honour to be, sir, your most obedient servant, s. cock. no. ii. _proceedings of a preliminary meeting of noblemen and gentlemen, held at the city of london tavern, on thursday, the 12th of february, 1824._ thomas wilson, esq. m.p. was called to the chair. resolved unanimously, that this meeting, taking into consideration the frequent loss of human life by shipwreck, and believing that by the preconcerted exertions of practical men, and the adoption of practical means, such calamities might often be averted, are of opinion that a national institution should be formed (to be supported by voluntary donations and subscriptions) for the preservation of life in cases of shipwreck on the coasts of the united kingdom; for affording such immediate assistance to the persons rescued, as their necessities may require; for conferring rewards on those who preserve their fellow-creatures from destruction; and for granting relief to the destitute families of any who may unfortunately perish in their attempts to save the lives of others. resolved unanimously, that, with a view to the formation of such an institution, a general meeting of the nobility, gentry, merchants, traders, and others, be convened for wednesday, the 25th instant, at twelve for one o'clock precisely, or such other day as may be found more convenient. resolved unanimously, that the following be a provisional committee in the interim, with power to add to their number. thomas wilson, esq. m.p. chairman. henry baring, esq. m.p. vice-admiral lord amelius beauclerk, k.c.b. john blackburn, esq. henry blanchard, esq. john william buckle, esq. james cazenove, jun. esq. simon cock, esq. captain j. w. deans dundas, r.n. david c. guthrie, esq. samuel gurney, esq. george hibbert, esq. sir william hillary, bart. samuel hoare, esq. george lyall, esq. rev. h. h. norris. john clark powell, esq. joseph pulley, esq. john vincent purrier, esq. christopher richardson, jun. esq. benjamin shaw, esq. right honourable lord suffield. christopher tenant, esq. mr. alderman thompson, m.p. william vaughan, esq. joshua walker, esq. m.p. joshua watson, esq. thomas wilkinson, esq. george frederick young, esq. resolved unanimously, that the thanks of this meeting be given to sir william hillary, bart. for his exertions in bringing this interesting subject before the meeting, and for his assistance in its deliberations. mr. wilson having left the chair, it was resolved unanimously, that the best thanks of this meeting be given to thomas wilson, esq. for his able conduct in the chair, and for his zeal in the support of the objects in contemplation. no. iii. royal national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck. _london, march 4, 1824._ patron--the king. vice-patrons. his royal highness the duke of york. his royal highness the duke of clarence. his royal highness the duke of sussex. his royal highness the duke of cambridge. his royal highness the duke of gloucester. his royal highness prince leopold of saxe cobourg. president--the earl of liverpool, k.g. vice-presidents. his grace the archbishop of canterbury. his grace the archbishop of york. his grace the duke of st. alban's. the most noble the marquis of lansdowne. the most noble the marquis of hertford, k.g. vice-admiral of cornwall, and of the coast of suffolk. the most noble the marquis of camden, k.g. the right hon. the earl spencer, k.g. the right hon. the earl of craven. the right hon. the earl of lonsdale, k.g. the right hon. the earl of harrowby. the right hon. earl brownlow. the right hon. lord amelius beauclerk, k.c.b. the right hon. lord john russell, m.p. the right hon. viscount torrington. the right hon. viscount melville, k.t. the right hon. viscount exmouth, g.c.b. the lord bishop of london. the lord bishop of durham. the lord bishop of chester, now bath and wells. the lord bishop of bristol. the right hon. lord suffield. the right hon. lord braybrooke. the right hon. lord amherst, governor-general of india. the right hon. lord stowell. the right hon. robert peel. the right hon. george canning. the right hon. frederick john robinson. the right hon. william huskisson. sir william hillary, bart. sir claude scott, bart. sir charles forbes, bart. m.p. william haldimand, esq. m.p. george hibbert, esq. william manning, esq. m.p. the chairman of the hon. east india company. the deputy master of trinity house. the chairman for lloyd's. n. m. rothschild, esq. john smith, esq. m.p. joshua walker, esq. m.p. joshua watson, esq. thomas wilkinson, esq. thomas wilson, esq. m.p. central committee. thomas wilson, esq. m.p. chairman. captain astley, r.n. henry blanchard, esq. richardson borradaile, esq. captain william bowles, r.n. john william buckle, esq. john capel, esq. david carruthers, esq. james cazenove, jun. esq. jonathan chapman, esq. g. r. clarke, esq. simon cock, esq. william cotton, esq. captain ed. henry a'court, r.n. m.p. captain c. c. dansey, r.a. john deacon, esq. captain joseph dowson. captain deans dundas, r.n. captain john foulerton. charles francis, esq. james halford, esq. edward hurry, esq. captain john locke, h.c.s. edward hawke locker, esq. george lyall, esq. w. a. madocks, esq. m.p. john marshall, esq. john petty muspratt, esq. john clark powell, esq. john d. powles, esq. joseph pulley, esq. john vincent purrier, esq. christoper richardson, jun. esq. captain r. saumarez, r.n. k.l. thomas snodgrass, esq. christopher tennant, esq. mr. alderman thompson, m.p. mr. alderman venables. john wild, esq. h. s. h. wollaston, esq. george frederick young, esq. treasurer. william sikes, esq. 5, mansion house street. trustees. thomas wilson, esq. m.p. james cazenove, jun. esq. john clark powell, esq. auditors. timothy a. curtis, esq. henry sikes, esq. mr. alderman thompson, m.p. secretary. thomas edwards, esq. office of the institution, no. 12, austin friars, london. at a public meeting of noblemen, gentlemen, merchants, and others, held at the city of london tavern, this day, his grace the archbishop of canterbury in the chair, the following resolutions were passed unanimously:-i. upon the motion of his grace; seconded by captain bowles, r.n.--that an institution be now formed for the preservation of life in cases of shipwreck on the coasts of the united kingdom, to be supported by donations and annual subscriptions; and to be called the "national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck." ii. moved by w. wilberforce, esq. m.p.; seconded by captain deans dundas, r.n.--that medallions or pecuniary rewards be given to those who rescue lives in cases of shipwreck. iii. moved by the lord bishop of london; seconded by mr. alderman bridges, m.p.--that such immediate assistance be afforded to persons rescued as their necessities may require. iv. moved by the lord bishop of chester; seconded by william manning, esq. m.p.--that relief be supplied to the widows and families of persons who may unfortunately perish in their attempts to save the lives of others. v. moved by captain john foulerton;--seconded by mr. alderman venables,--that the subjects of all nations be equally objects of the institution, as well in war as in peace; that the same rewards be given for their rescue as for british subjects; and that foreigners saved from shipwreck, and being in a state of destitution, be placed under the care of the consuls or other accredited agents of their own nations, or be forwarded to their respective countries. vi. moved by joshua walker, esq. m.p.; seconded by john william buckle, esq.--that medallions be conferred on the authors of such inventions for the preservation of lives, in cases of shipwreck, as shall be most effectual for that purpose. vii. moved by matthias attwood, esq. m.p.; seconded by thomas wilkinson, esq.--that the institution be established in london, and be conducted by a patron, vice-patrons, a president, vice-presidents, governors, forty committeemen, a treasurer, three trustees, three auditors, a secretary, and assistants. viii. moved by john blades, esq.; seconded by john marshall, esq.--that the committee be denominated the "london central committee," and do continue to act for the first two years; and that after the expiration of that term, an election of six new members take place at each annual meeting, in the room of the six who shall be found to have attended the fewest number of times in the preceding year: and that the vice-patrons, president, vice-presidents, and treasurer, be also members of the committee. ix. moved by joseph pulley, esq.; seconded by john atkins, jun. esq.--that donations and annual subscriptions be now entered into, and solicited, for carrying the objects of this institution into effect. x. moved by captain manby; seconded by thomas shirley gooch, esq. m.p.--that maritime counties or districts, the principal sea ports, and the inland counties of the united kingdom, and the british isles, be earnestly invited to form district associations, as branches of this institution, for the purpose of promoting donations and subscriptions, and for assisting to carry its general objects into effect. xi. moved by captain richard saumarez, r.n.; seconded by christopher richardson, jun. esq.--that it be recommended to such district associations, that their affairs be managed in conformity with the principles of the london central committee, and that their committees do consist of a chairman, and such other members as they may deem expedient. xii. moved by mr. alderman bridges, m.p.; seconded by david carruthers, esq.--that the committee be empowered to form rules, regulations, and by-laws, for the government of the institution, which are to be submitted to the next general meeting. xiii. moved by quarles harris, esq.; seconded by james cazenove, esq.--that a copy of these resolutions be transmitted to the ambassadors, consuls, or other representatives of foreign states, resident in this country. xiv. moved by sir charles flower, bart.; seconded by william walcot, esq.--that his grace the archbishop of canterbury be requested to convey to the king's most gracious majesty, the deep and grateful sense which this meeting entertains of the distinguished honour which his majesty has conferred upon the institution in becoming its patron. xv. moved by captain deans dundas, r.n.; seconded by john wilson, esq.--that the grateful thanks of this meeting be respectfully offered to their royal highnesses the dukes of york, clarence, sussex, and gloucester, and prince leopold of saxe cobourg, for their readiness to become the vice-patrons of the institution. xvi. moved by john william buckle, esq.; seconded by john vincent purrier, esq.--that the thanks of this meeting be given to the earl of liverpool, for his acceptance of the presidency of the institution. xvii. moved by william cotton, esq.; seconded by jonathan chapman, esq.--that the thanks of this meeting be also given to his grace the archbishop of canterbury, and the other noble and distinguished personages who have accepted the office of vice-presidents of the institution. xviii. moved by george lyall, esq.; seconded by thos. wilson, esq. m.p.--that the best thanks of this meeting are due to sir william hillary, bart. for his patriotic efforts in bringing this subject before the public, and for his zealous endeavours to promote the establishment of the institution. xix. moved by thomas wilkinson, esq.; seconded by thomas maltby, esq.--that copies of the resolutions entered into this day be transmitted to the admiralty, to the trinity house, and to lloyd's; and that copies of the resolutions be published in several of the provincial papers. xx. moved by john william buckle, esq.; seconded by sir charles flower, bart.--that the warmest thanks of this meeting be presented to thomas wilson, esq. m.p. for his humane, zealous, and persevering exertions in the establishment of this institution. his grace the archbishop having left the chair, thomas wilson, esq. was unanimously called upon to take it. moved by thomas wilson, esq. m.p. seconded by sir chas. flower, bart. and resolved unanimously,--that the best thanks of this meeting be given to his grace the archbishop of canterbury, for the important service which he has rendered the institution, and particularly for his condescension in taking the chair this day. (signed) thomas wilson, chairman. _at a general court of the subscribers and friends to the royal national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck, held at the city of london tavern, on the 10th of march, 1825._ the right rev. the lord bishop of bath and wells in the chair. it was moved by george hibbert, esq. seconded by thomas wilson, esq. m.p. and resolved unanimously, that the gold medallion of the institution be presented to sir william hillary, bart., by whom this national institution was first suggested, and ably recommended by his publications on the subject. (signed) thomas wilson, chairman of the committee. having thus shown, by official documents, the great outline of the royal national institution, now happily established for the preservation of life from shipwreck, a brief recapitulation of the important nature of its objects and its plans, will perhaps be the best conclusion i can offer to those pages, which have already been received by the public in a manner so gratifying to my own feelings. from the most early periods, and in every state of society, shipwreck has been one of those never ceasing evils which has excited the commiseration of mankind; but, until recently, appears scarcely ever to have called forth their humane efforts to mitigate its deplorable consequences. for centuries our mariners have been left, unassisted, to endure every peril of the sea, as if shipwreck were a calamity in every instance utterly beyond all reach of mortal succour, and in every age, thousands of our fellow-creatures have thus miserably perished, who unquestionably might have been rescued. of late years, various efforts have been made on parts of our coasts for the preservation of life from impending peril, and some excellent inventions have been introduced for that purpose; these had however hitherto been only a means, not a system--local, not national. but when we reflect on the great waste of human life attendant on these dreadful catastrophes, and the vital importance to their country of those who have thus been abandoned to their wretched fate, it cannot fail to excite our astonishment that amongst all the noble institutions of this great empire, which have been patronized by the crown, promoted by the government, or sustained by the bounty of the people, there never before has been established, in this the most powerful maritime state of ancient or of modern days, one general association, or national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck. the humane attention of the british nation has at length been roused to this important object,--this void in our benevolent establishments has been supplied, by the formation of the royal national institution, under the immediate patronage of the king. the objects contemplated by this institution are, in their nature, deeply interesting to the cause of humanity--important to the naval and the commercial interests of the nation, and calculated to extend their beneficial influence to every age and every country. it will be seen by the preceding documents that it takes within the scope of its efforts, the preservation from shipwreck--not only of the seamen and the subjects of these kingdoms, but those of every nation who may become exposed to that misfortune on the british shores, equally in peace and in war. it invites to its aid the humane and the brave, urging them to the rescue of their fellow-creatures, by supplying them with every means, that their attempts may be made with all attainable safety to themselves--conferring honorary and pecuniary rewards for their generous efforts--rendering every practicable relief to the destitute widows and families of those who unfortunately may perish in their attempts to save the lives of others, and for those who happily may be thus preserved. it purposes to provide them with that food, clothing, medical aid, and shelter, which their forlorn situation may require--to enable those who may belong to this country to proceed to their homes, or to the nearest port where they may obtain future employment. and the subjects of other powers to return to their native land, or to place them in safety under the care of the accredited authorities of their own nation. this institution also confers honorary rewards, on the authors of such inventions as shall be the most effectual, for the preservation of lives from shipwreck. such are the leading features of that system, which is presumed to be the best calculated for calling forth the energies of a great maritime people--to stimulate those feelings which have but too long remained dormant, or hitherto have only been partially exerted, and to arouse our countrymen to the rescue of the best bulwarks of british power from those direful calamities to which they are perpetually exposed--which are not the casual misfortunes of a day, once overcome and not liable to recur, but extending their destructive ravages to every sea and to every coast--each year sweeping thousands to a watery grave, and certain to continue their devastating effects to thousands yet unborn; augmented, in the number of their victims, in proportion as our commerce shall extend itself over the globe. to all who revere the naval glory of britain--to all who duly estimate the commercial greatness of their country, or who profit by its success--to all who feel the humanity and the policy of preserving the brave defenders of the state, and the hardy conductors of that commerce, from those dangers, to which, in the exercise of their arduous duties, they are continually exposed--this institution cannot appeal in vain. every class must feel how deeply it is connected with the national honour, and the maritime interest of their country, that all the means which the bounty of a wealthy and a liberal people can supply, and all the efforts which experience and humanity can prompt, should be devoted to so sacred a cause. each in his respective sphere is earnestly solicited to bear a part--the great and the affluent, and those residing in the interior of the kingdom, by their influence and their contributions--the active and the zealous, by their energetic efforts--those on the coasts, by the more hazardous exertions of enterprise and bravery--and all, according to their power and their stations, to promote the success, and to recompense the endeavours of those who voluntarily encounter the greatest perils, for the rescue of the unhappy mariner, of every nation, who may be in danger of shipwreck on our coasts. the accomplishment of so many and such important objects, on a scale commensurate with the frequency and the extent of the misfortunes they are intended to alleviate, requires the combined efforts of numerous public bodies and zealous individuals--preconcerted arrangements on every dangerous coast, and considerable pecuniary resources. under these convictions, i presume most earnestly to recommend, that public meetings should be held in those maritime counties and great sea ports of the united kingdom which have not yet come forward in this cause, for the formation of district or local associations on all our coasts, regulated in their internal concerns by their own committees, as departments of, and in direct communication with, the parent institution, having an union of funds, of object and of effort, for the most extended adoption of every means which the magnitude of the evil to be averted imperatively demands at our hands. nor are those whose residence is the most remote from the scenes of these disasters, less interested in the universal establishment of this system.--where is to be found that family, of any station, even in the very interior of the kingdom, which has not some near and dear connexions, some valued relatives or friends, who, from their professions or their pursuits, may become exposed to the hazard of shipwreck, and who may be thus preserved, through the very means to which their bounty may contribute? themselves distant from the scene of danger, they may, without effort or toil, become instrumental in the rescue of those they most value in life--equally then are they called on to take measures for the collection of funds in the midland counties as on the coasts, in order to give increased resources to the institution, for the most effectual prosecution of its plans. as this great national measure shall continue to establish itself in the public mind, the adoption of more extended and systematic plans will naturally impress themselves on our consideration. from an almost universal want of foresight in our seamen, and a carelessness in providing against future dangers, naturally arising from the reckless bravery of their character, they would turn with contempt from any proposition that each should always take with him to sea, some one of those simple but practicable means by which his rescue from shipwreck might be greatly facilitated. in like manner the owners or masters of vessels, some from an ill timed parsimony, but far more, from thoughtlessness or prejudice, neglect to provide their vessels with any of the apparatus which would, in many instances, insure the safety of the passengers and crews. what is thus the duty of every one, will, amongst such a numerous class of individuals, be either entirely neglected or imperfectly executed, and a continued sacrifice of life be the certain consequence. our seamen constitute one of the most valuable properties of the state. the preservation of the life of the subject is one of the most imperative duties of an enlightened government--it has therefore become indispensably requisite, in this great maritime nation, that these evils, arising from causes which no unity of opinion or of action, in the parties most interested, can ever be expected to remove, should as far as possible be obviated by legislative enactment--and that vessels should not, after a given period, be permitted to clear out at the ports from which they are to sail, until, according to their tonnage, the number of their passengers and crews, and the nature of the voyage on which they are bound, it shall have been ascertained that they have been provided by the owners, and according to established regulations, with those means of safety which shall be required. these should consist of the most simple and effectual apparatus for establishing a communication in case of wreck, between the vessel and the shore--materials for the construction of rafts--lifebuoys--cork jackets, or other buoyant means of safety to individuals; boats in a reasonable proportion to the numbers on board, to some of which the properties of life boats might immediately and easily be given--with other measures which the great importance of the object demands, on a scale consistent with that economy which should ever attend compulsatory regulations. the extent and nature of these precautionary measures require mature consideration, and would best be ascertained by a committee of experienced and scientific officers and individuals selected from the navy, the trinity house, lloyd's, the ship-owners' society, and other departments connected with maritime affairs, on whose reports, and after minute and deliberate investigation, perhaps an enactment could alone be founded to produce the much desired effect.--it is only by reducing into a system those measures which are now left to chance, or to the forethought or the caprice of thousands, that such effectual precautions can be taken, as will insure that at all times the danger may be promptly met by adequate means of rescue. it has been allowed by those of much ability and experience, that it would be very important, that seamen in the merchants service should be examined, by some competent authority, to be established for the purpose, as to their possessing that knowledge of their profession, on which the safety of their vessels and the lives of their crews must continually depend, before any one, who has not already filled that office, should be allowed to take the command of a vessel, of such tonnage and description, and with such exceptions as, on more full investigation of the subject, might be deemed requisite. we have only stedfastly and undeviatingly to persevere in our course,--the greatness of our objects--the goodness of our cause--the conviction to the public mind, which time and experience cannot fail to bring, of the practicability of our means; and above all, the benevolent feelings of a gallant nation, excited by the continued rescue of their fellow creatures, will combine irresistibly to advocate this system, and ultimately to insure its complete success. much has recently been accomplished--several noble establishments have already been formed on our coasts--rewards for many lives preserved have already been bestowed--infinitely more remains yet to be done--nor should we for one moment desist from our exertions, nor relax from their ardent pursuit, until the whole of the british coasts shall be surrounded by well organized branches of the institution--until every mariner, who may be in danger of shipwreck on our shores, may feel assured that his rescue will be attempted by all the efforts which a generous enterprise can make, supported by every means which human foresight can arrange--and until, prompted by our example, and witnessing that succour which their own shipwrecked seamen will have received on the shores of these kingdoms, the governments and the people of every maritime nation may become impressed with the vital importance of this cause; and joining their efforts to ours, by the formation of similar establishments in their respective countries, thus essentially contribute to the adoption of an inter-national and universal system for the mitigation of the calamity of shipwreck, on every coast of the civilised world. william hillary. 19th july, 1825. london: printed by thomas davison, whitefriars. battles with the sea, by r.m. ballantyne. chapter one. heroes of the lifeboat and rocket. skirmishes with the subject generally. it ought to be known to all english boys that there is a terrible and costly war in which the british nation is at all times engaged. no intervals of peace mark the course of this war. cessations of hostilities there are for brief periods, but no treaties of peace. "war to the knife" is its character. quarter is neither given nor sought. our foe is unfeeling, unrelenting. he wastes no time in diplomatic preliminaries; he scorns the courtesies of national life. no ambassadors are recalled, no declarations of war made. like the red savage he steals upon us unawares, and, with a roar of wrathful fury, settles down to his deadly work. how does this war progress? it is needful to put and reiterate this question from time to time, because new generations of boys are always growing up, who, so far from being familiar with the stirring episodes of this war, and the daring deeds of valour performed, scarcely realise the fact that such a war is being carried on at all, much less that it costs hundreds of lives and millions of money every year. it may be styled a naval war, being waged chiefly in boats upon the sea. it is a war which will never cease, because our foe is invincible, and we will never give in; a war which, unlike much ordinary warfare, is never unjust or unnecessary; which cannot be avoided, which is conducted on the most barbarous principles of deathless enmity, but which, nevertheless, brings true glory and honour to those heroes who are ever ready, night and day, to take their lives in their hands and rush into the thick of the furious fray. although this great war began--at least in a systematic manner--only little more than fifty years ago, it will not end until the hearts of brave and generous britons cease to beat, and the wild winds cease to blow, for the undying and unconquerable enemy of whom we write is--the storm! "death or victory!" the old familiar warwhoop, is not the final war-cry here. death is, indeed, always faced--sometimes met--and victory is often gained; but, final conquests being impossible, and the "piping times of peace" being out of the question, the signal for the onset has been altered, and the world's old battle-cry has been exchanged for the soul-stirring shout of "rescue the perishing!" though our foe cannot be slain, he can, like the genii of eastern story, be baffled. in the days of old, the storm had it nearly all his own way. hearts, indeed, were not less brave, but munitions of war were wanting. in this matter, as in everything else, the world is better off now than it was then. our weapons are more perfect, our engines more formidable. we can now dash at our enemy in the very heart of his own terrible strongholds; fight him where even the boldest of the ancient vikings did not dare to venture, and rescue the prey from the very jaws of death amid the scenes of its wildest revelry. the heroes who recruit the battalions of our invincible army are the bronzed and stalwart men of our sea-coast towns, villages, and hamlets-men who have had much and long experience of the foe with whom they have to deal. their panoply is familiar to most of us. the helmet, a sou'wester; the breastplate, a lifebelt of cork; the sword, a strong short oar; their war-galley, a splendid _lifeboat_; and their shield-the hand of god. in this and succeeding chapters i purpose to exhibit and explain in detail our lifeboats, and the great, the glorious work which they annually accomplish; also the operations of the life-saving rocket, which has for many years rescued innumerable lives, where, from the nature of circumstances, lifeboats could not have gone into action. i hold that we--especially those of us who dwell in the interior of our land--are not sufficiently alive to the deeds of daring, the thrilling incidents, the terrible tragedies and the magnificent rescues which are perpetually going on around our shores. we are not sufficiently impressed, perhaps, with the _nationality_ of the work done by the royal national lifeboat institution, which manages our fleet of 270 lifeboats. we do not fully appreciate, it may be, the personal interest which we ourselves have in the great war, and the duty--to say nothing of privilege--which lies upon us to lend a helping hand in the good cause. before going into the marrow of the subject, let us put on the wings of imagination, and soar to such a height that we shall be able to take in at one eagle glance all the coasts of the united kingdom--a sweep of about 5000 miles all round! it is a tremendous sight, for a storm is raging! black clouds are driving across the murky sky; peals of thunder rend the heavens; lightning gleams at intervals, revealing more clearly the crested billows that here roar over the sands, or there churn and seethe among the rocks. the shrieking gale sweeps clouds of spray high over our windward cliffs, and carries flecks of foam far inland, to tell of the dread warfare that is raging on the maddened sea. near the shore itself numerous black specks are seen everywhere, like ink-spots on the foam. these are wrecks, and the shrieks and the despairing cries of the perishing rise above even the roaring of the gale. death is busy, gathering a rich harvest, for this is a notable night in the great war. the storm-fiend is roused. the enemy is abroad in force, and has made one of his most violent assaults, so that from shetland to cornwall, ships and boats are being battered to pieces on the rocks and sands, and many lives are being swallowed up or dashed out; while, if you turn your gaze further out to sea, you will descry other ships and boats and victims hurrying onward to their doom. here, a stately barque, with disordered topsails almost bursting from the yards as she hurries her hapless crew--all ignorant, perchance, of its proximity--towards the dread lee-shore. elsewhere, looming through the murk, a ponderous merchantman, her mainmast and mizzen gone, and just enough of the foremast left to support the bellying foresail that bears her to destruction. think you, reader, that this sketch is exaggerated? if so, let us descend from our lofty outlook, and take a nearer view of facts in detail. i quote the substance of the following from a newspaper article published some years ago. the violence of the storm on wednesday and thursday night was terrific. the damage to shipping has been fearful. on sea the tremendous gale proved disastrous beyond precedent. falmouth harbour was the scene of several collisions, and one barque and a tug steamer sank at their anchors. a wreck is reported at lelant, to which the penzance lifeboat with a stout-hearted crew had started, when our despatch left, to rescue thirteen men who could be descried hanging in the shrouds. a fine new ship is on hayle bar, and another vessel is believed to be wrecked there also. doubtless we have not yet heard of all the wrecks on the cornish coast; but it is in the magnificent bay which includes torquay, paignton, and brixham that the most terrible havoc has occurred. on wednesday, about sixty sail were anchored in torbay. eleven have gone ashore at broadsands, five of which are total wrecks. the names of those we could ascertain were the fortitude, of exeter; the stately, of newcastle; the dorset, of falmouth, and a french brigantine. at five o'clock on thursday evening some of the crews were being drawn ashore by lines and baskets. at churston cove one schooner is ashore and a total wreck; there is also another, the blue jacket, which may yet be saved. at brixham there are two fine ships ashore inside the breakwater. at the back of the pier ten vessels have been pounded to matchwood, and all that remains are a shattered barque, her masts still standing, two brigs, and a schooner, all inextricably mingled together. twelve trawlers have been sunk and destroyed. out of the sixty ships at anchor on wednesday night there were not more than ten left on thursday afternoon. many of these are disabled, some dismasted. a fishing-boat belonging to brixham was upset in the outer harbour about eight o'clock, and two married fishermen of the town and a boy were drowned. at elbury a new brig, the zouave, of plymouth, has gone to pieces, and six out of her crew of ten are drowned. eleven other vessels are on shore at elbury, many of the men belonging to which cannot be accounted for. one noble woman, named wheaton, wife of a master mariner, saved two lives by throwing a rope from the window of her house, which is built on the rocks overhanging the bay at furzeham hill. scores of poor shipwrecked men are wandering distractedly about brixham and churston, the greater part of them having lost all they possessed. the total loss of life arising from these disasters is variously estimated at from seventy to a hundred. is not this a tremendous account of the doings of one gale? and let it be observed that we have lifted only one corner of the curtain and revealed the battlefield of only one small portion of our far-reaching coasts. what is to be said of the other parts of our shores during that same wild storm? it would take volumes instead of chapters to give the thrilling incidents of disaster and heroism in full detail. to convey the truth in all its force is impossible, but a glimmering of it may be obtained by a glance at the wreck chart which is published by the board of trade every year. every black spot on that chart represents a wreck more or less disastrous, which occurred in the twelve months. it is an appalling fact that about two thousand ships, upwards of seven hundred lives, and nearly two millions sterling, are lost _every_ year on the shores of the united kingdom. some years the loss is heavier, sometimes lighter, but in round numbers this is our annual loss in the great war. that it would be far greater if we had no lifeboats and no life-saving rockets it will be our duty by-and-by to show. the black spots on the wreck chart to which we have referred show at a single glance that the distribution of wrecks is very unequal--naturally so. near the great seaports we find them thickly strewn; at other places, where vessels pass in great numbers on their way to these ports, the spots are also very numerous, while on unfrequented parts they are found only here and there in little groups of two, three, or four. away on the nor'-west shores of scotland, for instance, where the seal and the sea-mew have the ocean and rugged cliffs pretty much to themselves, the plague-spots are few and far between; but on the east coast we find a fair sprinkling of them, especially in the mouths of the forth and tay, whither a goodly portion of the world's shipping crowds, and to which the hardy norseman now sends many a load of timber--both log and batten--instead of coming, as he did of old, to batten on the land. it is much the same with ireland, its more important seaports being on the east. but there is a great and sudden increase of the spots when we come to england. they commence at the border, on the west, where vessels from and to the busy clyde enter or quit the irish sea. darkening the fringes of the land on both sides, and clustering round the isle of man, they multiply until the ports have no room to hold them, and, as at liverpool, they are crowded out into the sea. from the deadly shores of anglesea, where the royal charter went down in the great and memorable storm of november, 1859, the signs of wreck and disaster thicken as we go south until we reach the bristol channel, which appears to be choked with them, and the dangerous cliffs of cornwall, which receive the ill-fated vessels of the fleets that are perpetually leaving or entering the two great channels. but it is on the east coast of england that the greatest damage is done. from berwick to the thames the black spots cluster like bees. on the coasts of norfolk and suffolk, off great yarmouth, where lie the dangerous haisborough sands, the spots are no longer in scattered groups, but range themselves in dense battalions; and further south, off the coast of kent, round which the world's commerce flows unceasingly into the giant metropolis, where the famous goodwin sands play their deadly part in the great war, the dismal spots are seen to cluster densely, like gnats in a summer sky. now, just where the black spots are thickest on this wreck chart, lifeboats and rocket apparatus have been stationed in greatest numbers. as in ordinary warfare, so in battles with the sea, our "storm warriors" [see an admirable book, with this title, written by the reverend john gilmore, of ramsgate. (macmillan and company)] are thrown forward in force where the enemy's assaults are most frequent and dangerous. hence we find the eastern shores of england crowded at every point with life-saving apparatus, while most of the other dangerous parts of the coast are pretty well guarded. where and how do our coast heroes fight? i answer--sometimes on the cliffs, sometimes on the sands, sometimes on the sea, and sometimes even on the pierheads. their operations are varied by circumstances. let us draw nearer and look at them while in action, and observe how the enemy assails them. i shall confine myself at present to a skirmish. when the storm-fiend is abroad; when dark clouds lower; when blinding rain or sleet drives before the angry gale, and muttering thunder comes rolling over the sea, men with hard hands and weather-beaten faces, clad in oilskin coats and sou'-westers, saunter down to our quays and headlands all round the kingdom. these are the lifeboat crews and rocket brigades. they are on the lookout. the enemy is moving, and the sentinels are being posted for the night--or rather, they are posting themselves, for nearly all the fighting men in this war are volunteers! they require no drilling to prepare them for the field; no bugle or drum to sound the charge. their drum is the rattling thunder; their trumpet the roaring storm. they began to train for this warfare when they were not so tall as their fathers' boots, and there are no awkward squads among them now. their organisation is rough-and-ready, like themselves, and simple too. the heavens call them to action; the coxswain grasps the helm, the oars are manned, the word is given, and the rest is straightforward fighting--over everything, through everything, in the teeth of everything, until the victory is gained, and rescued men, women, and children are landed in safety on the shore. of course they do not always succeed, but they seldom or never fail to do the very uttermost that it is in the power of strong and daring men to accomplish. frequently they can tell of defeat and victory on the same battlefield. so it was on one fearful winter night at the mouth of the tyne in the year 1867. the gale that night was furious. it suddenly chopped round to the south south east, and, as if the change had recruited its energies, it blew a perfect hurricane between midnight and two in the morning, accompanied by blinding showers of sleet and hail, which seemed to cut like a knife. the sea was rising mountains high. about midnight, when the storm was gathering force and the sentinels were scarcely able to keep a lookout, a preventive officer saw a vessel driving ashore to the south of the south pier. instantly he burnt a blue light, at which signal three guns were fired from the spanish battery to call out the life brigade. the men were on the alert. about twenty members of the brigade assembled almost immediately on the pier, where they found that the preventive officer and pier-policeman had already got out the life-saving apparatus; but the gale was so fierce that they had been forced to crawl on their hands and knees to do so. a few minutes more and the number of brigade men increased to between fifty and sixty. soon they saw, through the hurtling storm, that several vessels were driving on shore. before long, four ships, with their sails blown to ribbons, were grinding themselves to powder, and crashing against each other and the pier-sides in a most fearful manner. they were the mary mac, the cora, and the maghee, belonging to whitstable, and the lucern of blyth. several lifeboats were stationed at that point. they were all launched, manned, and promptly pulled into the narrows, but the force of the hurricane and seas were such that they could not make headway against them. the powers of man are limited. when there is a will there is not always a way! for two hours did these brave men strain at the tough oars in vain; then they unwillingly put about and returned, utterly exhausted, leaving it to the men with the life-lines on shore to do the fighting. thus, frequently, when one arm of the service is prevented from acting; the other arm comes into play. the work of the men engaged on the pier was perilous and difficult, for the lines had to be fired against a head wind. the piers were covered with ice, and the gale was so strong that the men could hardly stand, while the crews of the wrecks were so benumbed that they could make little effort to help themselves. the men of the mary mac, however, made a vigorous effort to get their longboat out. a boy jumped in to steady it. before the men could follow, the boat was stove in, the rope that held it broke, and it drove away with the poor lad in it. he was quickly washed out, but held on to the gunwale until it drifted into broken water, when he was swallowed by the raging sea and the boat was dashed to pieces. meanwhile the crew of the cora managed to swing themselves ashore, their vessel being close to the pier. the crew of the lucern, acting on the advice of the brigade men, succeeded in scrambling on board the cora and were hauled ashore on the life-lines. they had not been ten minutes out of their vessel when she turned over with her decks towards the terrible sea, which literally tore her asunder, and pitched her up, stem on end, as if she had been a toy. the crew of the maghee were in like manner hauled on to the pier, with the exception of one lad from canterbury. it was the poor boy's first voyage. little did he think probably, while dreaming of the adventures of a sailor's career, what a terrible fate awaited him. he was apparently paralysed with fear, and could not spring after his comrades to the pier, but took to the rigging. he had scarcely done so when the vessel heeled over, and he was swung two or three times backwards and forwards with the motion of the masts. it is impossible to imagine the feelings of the brave men on the pier, who would so gladly have risked their lives to save him--he was so near, and yet so hopelessly beyond the reach of human aid! in a very brief space of time the waves did their work--ship and boy were swallowed up together. while these events were enacting on the pier the mary mac had drifted over the sand about half a mile from where she had struck. one of her crew threw a leadline towards a seaman on the shore. the hero plunged into the surf and caught it. the rest of the work was easy. by means of the line the men of the life brigade sent off their hawser, and breeches-buoy or cradle (which apparatus i shall hereafter explain), and drew the crew in safety to the land. that same morning a whitby brig struck on the sands. the lifeboat pomfret, belonging to the royal national lifeboat institution, put out and rescued her crew. in the morning the shores were strewn with wreckage, and amongst it was found the body of the boy belonging to the mary mac. all these disasters were caused by the masters of the vessels mistaking the south for the north pier, in consequence of having lost sight of tynemouth light in the blinding showers. of course many lifeboats were out doing good service on the night to which i have referred, but i pass all that by at present. the next chapter will carry you, good reader, into the midst of a pitched battle. chapter two. describes a tremendous battle and a glorious victory. before following our brilliant lifeboat--this gaudy, butterfly-like thing of red, white, and blue--to the field of battle, let me observe that the boats of the royal national lifeboat institution have several characteristic qualities, to which reference shall be made hereafter, and that they are of various sizes. [a full and graphic account of the royal national lifeboat institution--its boats, its work, and its achievements--may be found in an interesting volume by its late secretary, richard lewis, esquire, entitled _history of the lifeboat and its work_--published by macmillan and company.] one of the largest size is that of ramsgate. this may be styled a privileged boat, for it has a steam-tug to wait upon it named the aid. day and night the aid has her fires "banked up" to keep her boilers simmering, so that when the emergency arises, a vigorous thrust of her giant poker brings them quickly to the boiling point, and she is ready to take her lifeboat in tow and tug her out to the famed and fatal goodwin sands, which lie about four miles off the coast--opposite to ramsgate. i draw attention to this boat, first because she is exceptionally situated with regard to frequency of call, the means of going promptly into action, and success in her work. her sister-lifeboats of broadstairs and margate may, indeed, be as often called to act, but they lack the attendant steamer, and sometimes, despite the skill and courage of their crews, find it impossible to get out in the teeth of a tempest with only sail and oar to aid them. early in december, 1863, an emigrant ship set sail for the antipodes; she was the fusilier, of london. it was her last voyage, and fated to be very short. the shores of old england were still in sight, the eyes of those who sought to "better their circumstances" in australia were yet wet, and their hearts still full with the grief of parting from loved ones at home, when one of the most furious storms of the season caught them and cast their gallant ship upon the dangerous sands off the mouth of the thames. this happened on the night of the 3rd, which was intensely dark, as well as bitterly cold. who can describe or conceive the scene that ensued! the horror, the shrieking of women and children, and the yelling of the blast through the rigging,--for it was an absolute hurricane,--while tons of water fell over the decks continually, sweeping them from stem to stern. the fusilier had struck on that part of the sands named the girdler. in the midst of the turmoil there was but one course open to the crew-namely, to send forth signals of distress. guns were fired, rockets sent up, and tar-barrels set a-blaze. then, during many hours of agony, they had to wait and pray. on that same night another good ship struck upon the same sands at a different point--the demerara of greenock--not an emigrant ship, but freighted with a crew of nineteen souls, including a trinity pilot. tossed like a plaything on the sands--at that part named the shingles-off margate, the demerara soon began to break up, and the helpless crew did as those of the fusilier had done and were still doing--they signalled for aid. but it seemed a forlorn resource. through the thick, driving, murky atmosphere nothing but utter blackness could be seen, though the blazing of their own tar-barrels revealed, with awful power, the seething breakers around, which, as if maddened by the obstruction of the sands, leaped and hissed wildly over them, and finally crushed their vessel over on its beam-ends. swept from the deck, which was no longer a platform, but, as it were, a sloping wall, the crew took refuge in the rigging of one of the masts which still held fast. the mast overhung the caldron of foam, which seemed to boil and leap at the crew as if in disappointed fury. by degrees the hull of the demerara began to break up. her timbers writhed and snapped under the force of the ever-thundering waves as if tormented. the deck was blown out by the confined and compressed air. the copper began to peel off, the planks to loosen, and soon it became evident that the mast to which the crew were lashed could not long hold up. thus, for ten apparently endless hours the perishing seamen hung suspended over what seemed to be their grave. they hung thus in the midst of pitchy darkness after their blazing tar-barrels had been extinguished. and what of the lifeboat-men during all this time? were they asleep? nay, verily! everywhere they stood at pierheads, almost torn from their holdfasts by the furious gale, or they cowered under the lee of boats and boat-houses on the beach, trying to gaze seaward through the blinding storm, but nothing whatever could they see of the disasters on these outlying sands. there are, however, several sentinels which mount guard night and day close to the goodwin and other sands. these are the floating lights which mark the position of our extensive and dangerous shoals. two of these sentinels, the tongue lightship and the prince's lightship, in the vicinity of the girdler sands, saw the signals of distress. instantly their guns and rockets gleamed and thundered intelligence to the shore. such signals had been watched for keenly that night by the brave men of the margate lifeboat, who instantly went off to the rescue. but there are conditions against which human courage and power and will are equally unavailing. in the teeth of such a gale from the west-nor'-west, with the sea driving in thunder straight on the beach, it was impossible for the margate boat to put out. a telegram was therefore despatched to ramsgate. here, too, as at broadstairs, and everywhere else, the heroes of the coast were on the lookout, knowing well the duties that might be required of them at any moment. the stout little aid was lying at the pier with her steam "up." the ramsgate lifeboat was floating quietly in the harbour, and her sturdy lion-like coxswain, isaac jarman, was at the pier-head with some of his men, watching. the ramsgate men had already been out on service at the sands that day, and their appetite for saving life had been whetted. they were ready for more work. at a quarter past eight p.m. the telegram was received by the harbour-master. the signal was given. the lifeboat-men rushed to their boats. "first come, first served," is the rule there. she was over-manned, and some of the brave fellows had to leave her. the tight little tug took the boat in tow, and in less than half an hour rushed out with her into the intense darkness, right in the teeth of tempest and billows. the engines of the aid are powerful, like her whole frame. though fiercely opposed she battled out into the raging sea, now tossed on the tops of the mighty waves, now swallowed in the troughs between. battered by the breaking crests, whelmed at times by "green seas," staggering like a drunken thing, and buffeted by the fierce gale, but never giving way an inch, onward, steadily if slowly, until she rounded the north foreland. then the rescuers saw the signals going up steadily, regularly, from the two lightships. no cessation of these signals until they should be answered by signals from the shore. all this time the lifeboat had been rushing, surging, and bounding in the wake of her steamer. the seas not only roared around her, but absolutely overwhelmed her. she was dragged violently over them, and sometimes right through them. her crew crouched almost flat on the thwarts, and held on to prevent being washed overboard. the stout cable had to be let out to its full extent to prevent snapping, so that the mist and rain sometimes prevented her crew from seeing the steamer, while cross seas met and hurled her from side to side, causing her to plunge and kick like a wild horse. about midnight the tongue lightship was reached and hailed. the answer given was brief and to the point: "a vessel in distress to the nor'-west, supposed to be on the high part of the shingles sand!" away went the tug and boat to the nor'-west, but no vessel could be found, though anxious hearts and sharp and practised eyes were strained to the uttermost. the captain of the aid, who knew every foot of the sands, and who had medals and letters from kings and emperors in acknowledgment of his valuable services, was not to be balked easily. he crept along as close to the dangerous sands as was consistent with the safety of his vessel. how intently they gazed and listened both from lifeboat and steamer, but no cry was to be heard, no signal of distress, nothing but the roaring of the waves and shrieking of the blast, and yet they were not far from the perishing! the crew of the demerara were clinging to their quivering mast close by, but what could their weak voices avail in such a storm? their signal fires had long before been drowned out, and those who would have saved them could not see more than a few yards around. presently the booming of distant cannon was heard and then a faint line of fire was seen in the far distance against the black sky. the prince's and the girdler lightships were both firing guns and rockets to tell that shipwreck was taking place near to them. what was to be done? were the shingles to be forsaken, when possibly human beings were perishing there? there was no help for it. the steamer and lifeboat made for the vessels that were signalling, and as the exhausted crew on the quivering mast of the demerara saw their lights depart, the last hope died out of their breasts. "hope thou in god, for thou shalt yet praise him," perchance occurred to some of them: who knows? meanwhile the rescuers made for the prince's lightship and were told that a vessel in distress was signalling on the higher part of the girdler sands. away they went again, and this time were successful. they made for the girdler lightship, and on the girdler sands they found the fusilier. the steamer towed the lifeboat to windward of the wreck into such a position that when cast adrift she could bear down on her. then the cable was slipped and the boat went in for her own special and hazardous work. up went her little foresail close-reefed, and she rushed into a sea of tumultuous broken water that would have swamped any other kind of boat in the world. what a burst of thrilling joy and hope there was among the emigrants in the fusilier when the little craft was at last descried! it was about one o'clock in the morning by that time, and the sky had cleared a very little, so that a faint gleam of moonlight enabled them to see the boat of mercy plunging towards them through a very chaos of surging seas and whirling foam. to the rescuers the wreck was rendered clearly visible by the lurid light of her burning tar-barrels as she lay on the sands, writhing and trembling like a living thing in agony. the waves burst over her continually, and, mingling in spray with the black smoke of her fires, swept furiously away to leeward. at first each wave had lifted the ship and let her crash down on the sands, but as the tide fell this action decreased, and had ceased entirely when the lifeboat arrived. and now the point of greatest danger was reached. how to bring a lifeboat alongside of a wreck so as to get the people into her without being dashed to pieces is a difficult problem to solve. it was no new problem, however, to these hardy and fearless men; they had solved it many a time, before that night. when more than a hundred yards to windward of the wreck, the boat's foresail was lowered and her anchor let go. then they seized the oars, and the cable was payed out; but the distance had been miscalculated. they were twenty yards or so short of the wreck when the cable had run completely out, so the men had to pull slowly and laboriously back to their anchor again, while the emigrants sent up a cry of despair, supposing they had failed and were going to forsake them! at length the anchor was got up. in a few minutes it was let go in a better position, and the boat was carefully veered down under the lee of the vessel, from both bow and stern of which a hawser was thrown to it and made fast. by means of these ropes and the cable the boat was kept somewhat in position without striking the wreck. it was no easy matter to make the voice heard in such a gale and turmoil of seas, but the captain of the fusilier managed to give his ship's name and intended destination. then he shouted, "how many can you carry? we have more than a hundred souls on board; more than sixty of them women and children." this might well fill the breasts of the rescuers with anxiety. their boat, when packed full, could only carry about thirty. however, a cheering reply was returned, and, seizing a favourable opportunity, two of the boatmen sprang on the wreck, clambered over the side, and leaped among the excited emigrants. some seized them by the hands and hailed them as deliverers; others, half dead with terror, clung to them as if afraid they might forsake them. there was no time, however, to humour feelings. shaking them all off--kindly but forcibly--the men went to work with a will, briefly explained that there was a steamer not far off, and began to get the women first into the boat. terror-stricken, half fainting, trembling in every limb, deadly pale, and exhausted by prolonged anxiety and exposure, the poor creatures were carried rather than led to the ship's side. it needed courage even to submit to be saved on such a night and in such circumstances. two sailors stood outside the ship's bulwarks, fastened there by ropes, ready to lower the women. at one moment the raging sea rose with a roar almost to the feet of these men, bearing the kicking lifeboat on its crest. next moment the billow had passed, and the men looked down into a yawning abyss of foam, with the boat surging away far out of their reach, plunging and tugging at the ropes which held it, as a wild horse of the plains might struggle with the lasso. no wonder that the women gazed appalled at the prospect of such a leap, or that some shrieked and wildly resisted the kind violence of their rescuers. but the leap was for life; it had to be taken--and quickly, too, for the storm was very fierce, and there were many to save! one of the women is held firmly by the two men. with wildly-staring eyes she sees the boat sweep towards her on the breast of a rushing sea. it comes closer. some of the men below stand up with outstretched arms. the woman makes a half spring, but hesitates. the momentary action proves almost fatal. in an instant the boat sinks into a gulf, sweeps away as far as the ropes will let her, and is buried in foam, while the woman is slipping from the grasp of the men who hold her. "don't let her go! don't let her go!" is roared by the lifeboat-men, but she has struggled out of their grasp. another instant and she is gone; but god in his mercy sends the boat in again at that instant; the men catch her as she falls, and drag her inboard. thus, one by one, were the women got into the lifeboat. some of these women were old and infirm; some were invalids. who can conceive the horror of the situation to such as these, save those who went through it? the children were wrapped up in blankets and thus handed down. some of the husbands or fathers on board rolled up shawls and blankets and tossed them down to the partially clothed and trembling women. it chanced that one small infant was bundled up in a blanket by a frantic passenger and handed over the side. the man who received it, mistaking it for merely a blanket, cried, "here, bill, catch!" and tossed it into the boat. bill, with difficulty, caught it as it was flying overboard; at the same moment a woman cried, "my child! my child!" sprang forward, snatched the bundle from the horrified bill, and hugged it to her bosom! at last the boat, being sufficiently filled, was hauled up to her anchor. sail was hoisted, and away they flew into the surging darkness, leaving the rest of the emigrants still filled with terrible anxiety, but not now with hopeless despair. the lifeboat and her tender work admirably together. knowing exactly what must be going on, and what would be required of him, though he could see nothing, the captain of the aid, after the boat had slipped from him, had run down along the sands to leeward of the wreck, and there waited. presently he saw the boat coming like a phantom out of the gloom. it was quickly alongside, and the rescued people-twenty-five women and children--were transferred to the steamer, taken down to her cabin, and tenderly cared for. making this transfer in such a sea was itself difficult in the extreme, and accompanied with great danger, but difficulty and danger were the rule that night, not the exception. all went well. the aid, with the warrior-boat in tow, steamed back to windward of the wreck; then the lifeboat slipped the cable as before, and returned to the conflict, leaping over the seething billows to the field of battle like a warhorse refreshed. the stirring scene was repeated with success. forty women and children were rescued on the second trip, and put on board the steamer. leaden daylight now began to dawn. many hours had the "storm warriors" been engaged in the wild exhausting fight, nevertheless a third and a fourth time did they charge the foe, and each time with the same result. all the passengers were finally rescued and put on board the steamer. but now arose a difficulty. the tide had been falling and leaving the wreck, so that the captain and crew determined to stick to her in the hope of getting her off, if the gale should abate before the tide rose again. it was therefore agreed that the lifeboat should remain by her in case of accidents; so the exhausted men had to prepare for a weary wait in their wildly plunging boat, while the aid went off with her rescued people to ramsgate. but the adventures of that night were not yet over. the tug had not been gone above an hour and a half, when, to the surprise of those in the lifeboat, she was seen returning, with her flag flying half mast high, a signal of recall to her boat. the lifeboat slipped from the side of the wreck and ran to meet her. the reason was soon explained. on his way back to ramsgate the captain had discovered another large vessel on her beam-ends, a complete wreck, on that part of the sands named the shingles. it was the demerara, and her crew were still seen clinging to the quivering mast on which they had spent the livelong night. more work for the well-nigh worn out heroes! away they went to the rescue as though they had been a fresh crew. dashing through the surf they drew near the doomed ship, which creaked and groaned when struck by the tremendous seas, and threatened to go to pieces every moment. the sixteen men on the mast were drenched by every sea. several times that awful night they had, as it were, been mocked by false hopes of deliverance. they had seen the flashing of the rockets and faintly heard the thunder of the alarm-guns fired by the lightships. they had seen the lights of the steamer while she searched in vain for them on first reaching the sands, had observed the smaller light of the boat in tow, whose crew would have been so glad to save them, and had shouted in vain to them as they passed by on their errand of mercy to other parts of the sands, leaving them a prey to darkness and despair. but a merciful and loving god had seen and heard them all the time, and now sent them aid at the eleventh hour. when the lifeboat at last made in towards them the ebb tide was running strongly, and, from the position of the wreck, it was impossible to anchor to windward and drop down to leeward in the usual fashion. they had, therefore, to adopt the dangerous plan of running with the wind, right in upon the fore-rigging, and risk being smashed by the mast, which was beating about with its living load like an eccentric battering-ram. but these ramsgate men would stick at nothing. they rushed in and received many severe blows, besides dashing into the iron windlass of the wreck. slowly, and one by one, the enfeebled men dropped from the mast into the boat. sixteen--all saved! there was great shaking of hands, despite the tossings of the hungry surf, and many fervid expressions of thankfulness, as the sail was hoisted and the men of the demerara were carried away to join the other rescued ones, who by that time thronged the little aid almost to overflowing. at ramsgate that morning--the morning of the 4th--it was soon known to the loungers on the pier that the lifeboat was out, had been out all night, and might be expected back soon. bright and clear, though cold, was the morn which succeeded that terrible night; and many hundreds of anxious, beating, hopeful hearts were on the lookout. at last the steamer and her warrior-boat appeared, and a feeling of great gladness seemed to spread through the crowd when it was observed that a flag was flying at the mast-head, a well-known sign of victory. on they came, right gallantly over the still turbulent waves. as they passed the pier-heads, and the crowd of pale faces were seen gazing upwards in smiling acknowledgment of the hearty welcome, there burst forth a deep-toned thrilling cheer, which increased in enthusiasm as the extent of the victory was realised, and culminated when it became known that at one grand swoop the lifeboat, after a fight of sixteen hours, had rescued a hundred and twenty souls from the grasp of the raging sea! reader, there was many a heart-stirring incident enacted that night which i have not told you, and much more might be related of that great battle and glorious victory. but enough, surely, has been told to give you some idea of what our coast heroes dare and do in their efforts to rescue the perishing. chapter three. light and shade in lifeboat work. but victory does not always crown the efforts of our lifeboats. sometimes we have to tell of partial failure or defeat, and it is due to the lifeboat cause to show that our coast heroes are to the full as daring, self-sacrificing, and noble, in the time of disaster as they are in the day of victory. a splendid instance of persevering effort in the face of absolutely insurmountable difficulty was afforded by the action of the constance lifeboat, belonging to tynemouth, on the night of the 24th november, 1864. on that night the coast of northumberland was visited by one of the severest gales that had been experienced for many years, and a tremendous sea was dashing and roaring among the rocks at the mouth of the tyne. many ships had sought refuge in the harbour during the day, but, as the shades of evening began to descend, the risk of attempting an entrance became very great. at last, as the night was closing in, the schooner friendship ran on the rocks named the black middens. shortly afterwards a large steamer, the stanley, of aberdeen, with thirty passengers (most of whom were women), thirty of a crew, a cargo of merchandise, and a deckload of cattle, attempted to take the river. on approaching she sent up rockets for a pilot, but none dared venture out to her. the danger of putting out again to sea was too great. the captain therefore resolved to attempt the passage himself. he did so. three heavy seas struck the steamer so severely as to divert her from her course, and she ran on the rocks close to the friendship, so close that the cries of her crew could be heard above the whistling winds and thundering waves. as soon as she struck, the indescribable circumstances of a dread disaster began. the huge billows that had hitherto passed onward, heaving her upwards, now burst over her with inconceivable violence and crushed her down, sweeping the decks continuously--they rocked her fiercely to and fro; they ground her sides upon the cruel rocks; they lifted her on their powerful crests, let her fall bodily on the rocks, stove in her bottom, and, rushing into the hold, extinguished the engine fires. the sound of her rending planks and timbers was mingled with the piercing cries of the female passengers and the gruff shouting of the men, as they staggered to and fro, vainly attempting to do something, they knew not what, to avert their doom. it was pitch dark by this time, yet not so dark but that the sharp eyes of earnest daring men on shore had noted the catastrophe. the men of the coastguard, under mr lawrence byrne, their chief officer, got out the rocket apparatus and succeeded in sending a line over the wreck. unfortunately, however, owing to mismanagement of those on board the steamer, it proved ineffective. they had fastened the hawser of the apparatus to the forecastle instead of high up on the mast, so that the ropes became hopelessly entangled on the rocks. before this entanglement occurred, however, two men had been hauled ashore to show the possibility of escape and to give the ladies courage. then a lady ventured into the sling-lifebuoy, or cradle, with a sailor, but they stuck fast during the transit, and while being hauled back to the wreck, fell out and were drowned. a fireman then made the attempt. again the cradle stuck, but the man was strong and went hand over hand along the hawser to the shore, where mr byrne rushed into the surf and caught hold of him. the rescuer nearly lost his life in the attempt. he was overtaken by a huge wave, and was on the point of being washed away when he caught hold of a gentleman who ran into the surf to save him. the rocket apparatus having thus failed, owing to the simple mistake of those in the wreck having fastened the hawser _too low_ on their vessel, the crew attempted to lower a boat with four seamen and four ladies in it. one of the davits gave way, the other swung round, and the boat was swamped. three of the men were hauled back into the steamer, but the others perished. the men would not now launch the other boats. indeed it would have been useless, for no ordinary boat could have lived in such a sea. soon afterwards all the boats were washed away and destroyed, and the destruction of the steamer itself seemed about to take place every moment. while this terrible fight for dear life was going on, the lifeboat-men were not idle. they ran out their good boat, the constance, and launched her. and what a fearful launching that was! this boat belonged to the institution, and her crew were justly proud of her. according to the account given by her gallant coxswain, james gilbert, they could see nothing whatever at the time of starting but the white flash of the seas as they passed over boat and crew, without intermission, twelve or thirteen times. yet, as quickly as the boat was filled, she emptied herself through her discharging-tubes. of these tubes i shall treat hereafter. gilbert could not even see his own men, except the second coxswain, who, i presume, was close to him. sometimes the boat was "driven to an angle of forty or forty-five degrees in clearing the rocks." when they were in a position to make for the steamer, the order was given to "back all oars and keep her end-on to the sea." the men obeyed; they seemed to be inspired with fresh vigour as they neared the wreck. let gilbert himself tell the rest of the story as follows. "when abreast of the port bow, two men told us they had a rope ready on the starboard bow. we said we would be there in a moment. i then ordered the bow-man to be ready to receive the rope. as soon as we were ready we made two dashing strokes, and were under the bowsprit, expecting to receive the rope, when we heard a dreadful noise, and the next instant the sea fell over the bows of the stanley, and buried the lifeboat. every oar was broken at the gunwale of the boat, and the outer ends were swept away. the men made a grasp for the spare oars. three were gone; two only remained. we were then left with the rudder and two oars. the next sea struck the boat almost over end on board the friendship, the boat at the time being nearly perpendicular. we then had the misfortune to lose four of our crew. as the boat made a most fearful crash, and fell alongside the vessel, james grant was, i believe, killed on the spot, betwixt the ship and the boat; edmund robson and james blackburn were thrown out, joseph bell jumped as the boat fell. my own impression is that the men all jumped from the boat on to the vessel. we saw them no more. there were four men standing in a group before the mainmast of the schooner. we implored them to come into the boat, but no one answered." little wonder at that, james gilbert! the massive wreck must have seemed--at least to men who did not know the qualities of a lifeboat--a surer foothold than the tossed cockleshell with "only two oars and a rudder," out of which four of her own gallant crew had just been lost. even landsmen can perceive that it must have required much faith to trust a lifeboat in the circumstances. "the next sea that struck the lifeboat," continues the coxswain, "landed her within six feet of the foundation-stone of tynemouth dock, with a quickness seldom witnessed. the crew plied the remaining two oars to leeward against the rudder and boathook. we never saw anything till coming near the three shields lifeboats. we asked them for oars to proceed back to the friendship, but they had none to spare." thus the brave constance was baffled, and had to retire, severely wounded, from the fight. she drove, in her disabled and unmanageable condition, into the harbour. of the four men thrown out of her, grant and robson, who had found temporary refuge in the wrecked schooner, perished. the other two, bell and blackburn, were buoyed up by their cork lifebelts, washed ashore, and saved. the schooner itself was afterwards destroyed, and her crew of four men and a boy were lost. meanwhile the screams of those on board of her and the stanley were borne on the gale to the vast crowds who, despite darkness and tempest, lined the neighbouring cliffs, and the shields lifeboats just referred to made gallant attempts to approach the wrecks, but failed. indeed, it seemed to have been a rash attempt on the part of the noble fellows of the constance to have made the venture at all. the second cabin of the stanley was on deck, and formed the bridge, or outlook. on this a number of the passengers and crew had taken refuge, but a tremendous sea carried it, and all its occupants, bodily away. after this the fury of the sea increased, and about an hour before midnight the steamer, with a hideous crash, broke in two amidships. the after part remained fast; the fore part swung round. all the people who remained on the after part were swept away and drowned. the new position into which the fore part of the wreck had been forced was so far an advantage to those who still clung to it, that the bows broke the first violence of the waves, and thus partially protected the exhausted people, thirty-five of whom still remained alive out of the sixty souls originally on board. ten of these were passengers--two being ladies. meanwhile fresh preparations were being made by the rocket-men. messengers had been sent in hot haste to cullercoats for more rockets, those at tynemouth having been exhausted. they arrived at five o'clock in the morning. by that time the tide had fallen considerably, admitting of a nearer approach to the wreck, and once more a gleam of hope cheered the hearts of the perishing as they beheld the fiery messenger of mercy rush fiercely towards them from the shore. but hope was still delayed. four of the rockets missed. the fifth passed right over them, dropping the lifeline on the wreck, and drawing from the poor sufferers a feeble cheer, which was replied to lustily from the shore. this time, fortunately, no mistakes were made by those on board. the blocks and tackle were drawn out, the hawser on which the sling-lifebuoy traversed was fastened high up on the foremast to prevent the ropes fouling the rocks, as they had done on the first attempt; then the lifebuoy was run out, and, eventually, every soul was drawn in safety to the shore. thus did that battle end, with much of disaster and death to regret, indeed, but with upwards of thirty-five rescued lives to rejoice over. i have now shown the action and bearing of our coast heroes, both in circumstances of triumphant victory and of partial success. before proceeding to other matters it is well to add that, when intelligence of this disaster was telegraphed to the lifeboat institution, a new lifeboat was immediately forwarded to tynemouth, temporarily to replace the damaged constance. instructions were given for the relief of the widows and children of the two lifeboat-men who had perished, and 26 pounds was sent to the crew of the boat. at their next meeting the committee of the institution, besides recording their deep regret for the melancholy loss of life, voted 100 pounds in aid of a fund raised locally for the widows and seven children of the two men. they likewise bestowed their silver medal and a vote of thanks, inscribed on vellum, to mr lawrence byrne, of the coastguard, in testimony of his gallant services on the occasion. contributions were also raised by a local committee for the relief of the sufferers by these disasters, and a volunteer corps was formed to assist in working the rocket apparatus on future occasions of shipwreck. let me at this point earnestly request the reader who dwells in an _inland_ home, and who never hears the roaring of the terrible sea, carefully to note that in this case it was _men of the coast_ who did the work, and _people of the coast town_ who gave subscriptions, who sympathised with sufferers, and raised a volunteer corps. ponder this well, good reader, and ask yourself the question, "is all as it should be here? have i and my fellow-inlanders nothing to do but read, admire, and say, well done?" a hint is sufficient at this point. i will return to the subject hereafter. sometimes our gallant lifeboat-men when called into action go through a very different and not very comfortable experience. they neither gain a glorious victory nor achieve a partial success, but, after all their efforts, risks, and exposure, find that their services are not required, and that they must return meekly home with nothing to reward them but an approving conscience! one such incident i once had the opportunity of observing. i was living at the time--for purposes of investigation, and by special permission-on board of the gull lightship, which lies directly off ramsgate harbour, close to the goodwin sands. it was in the month of march. during the greater part of my two weeks' sojourn in that lightship the weather was reasonably fine, but one evening it came on to blow hard, and became what jack styles "dirty." i went to rest that night in a condition which may be described as semi-sea-sick. for some time i lay in my bunk moralising on the madness of those who choose the sea for a profession. suddenly i was roused--and the seasickness instantly cured--by the watch on deck shouting down the hatchway to the mate, "south sand head light is firing, sir, and sending up rockets!" the mate sprang from his bunk--just opposite to mine--and was on the cabin floor before the sentence was well finished. thrusting the poker with violence into the cabin fire, he rushed on deck. i jumped up and pulled on coat, nether garments, and shoes, as if my life depended on my speed, wondering the while at the poker incident. there was unusual need for clothing, for the night was bitterly cold. on gaining the deck i found the two men on duty actively at work, one loading the lee gun, the other fitting a rocket to its stick. a few hurried questions by the mate elicited all that it was needful to know. the flash of a gun from the south sand head lightship, about six miles distant, had been seen, followed by a rocket, indicating that a vessel had got upon the fatal sands in her vicinity. while the men were speaking i saw the flash of another gun, but heard no report, owing to the gale carrying the sound to leeward. a rocket followed, and at the same moment we observed the distress signal of the vessel in danger flaring on the southern tail of the sands, but very faintly; it was so far away, and the night so thick. by this time our gun was charged and the rocket in position. "look alive, jack; fetch the poker!" cried the mate, as he primed the gun. i was enlightened as to the poker! jack dived down the hatchway and next moment returned with that instrument red-hot. he applied it in quick succession to gun and rocket. a grand flash and crash from the first was followed by a blinding blaze and a whiz as the second sprang with a magnificent curve far away into surrounding darkness. this was our answer to the south sand head lightship. it was, at the same time, our signal-call to the lookout on the pier of ramsgate harbour. "that's a beauty!" said our mate, referring to the rocket. "get up another, jack. sponge her well out, jacobs; we'll give 'em another shot in a few minutes." loud and clear were both our signals, but four and a half miles of distance and a fresh gale neutralised their influence on that dark and dismal night. the lookout did not see them. in a few minutes the gun and rocket were fired again. still no answering signal came from ramsgate. "load the weather gun!" said the mate. jacobs obeyed, and i sought shelter under the lee of the weather bulwarks, for the wind seemed to be made of pen-knives and needles! the sturdy gull straining and plunging wildly at her huge cables, trembled as our third gun thundered forth its summons, but the rocket struck the rigging and made a low, wavering flight. another was therefore sent up, but it had scarcely cut its bright line across the sky when we observed the answering signal--a rocket from ramsgate pier. "that's all right now, sir; _our_ work is done," said the mate to me, as he went below and quietly turned in, while the watch, having sponged out and re-covered the gun, resumed their active perambulations of the deck. i confess that i felt somewhat disappointed at the sudden termination of the noise and excitement. i was told that the ramsgate lifeboat could not well be out in less than an hour. there was nothing for it, therefore, but patience, so i turned in, "all standing," as sailors have it, with a request that i should be called when the lights of the tug should come in sight. scarcely had i lain down, however, when the voice of the watch was heard shouting hastily, "lifeboat close alongside, sir! didn't see it till this moment. she carries no lights." out i bounced, minus hat, coat, and shoes, and scrambled on deck just in time to see a boat close under our stern, rendered spectrally visible by the light of our lantern. it was not the ramsgate but the broadstairs lifeboat, the men of which had observed our first rocket, had launched their boat at once, and had run down with the favouring gale. "what are you firing for?" shouted the coxswain of the boat. "ship on the sands bearing south," replied jack, at the full pitch of his stentorian voice. the boat which was under sail, did not pause, and nothing more was said. with a magnificent rush it passed us, and shot away into the darkness. our reply had been heard, and the lifeboat, steering by compass, went straight as an arrow to the rescue. it was a thrilling experience to me! spectral as a vision though it seemed, and brief almost as the lightning flash, its visit was the _real_ thing at last. many a time had i heard and read of our lifeboats, and had seen them reposing in their boat-houses, as well as out "for exercise," but now i had _seen_ a lifeboat tearing before the gale through the tormented sea, sternly bent on the real work of saving human life. once again all became silent and unexciting on board the gull, and i went shivering below with exalted notions of the courage, endurance, and businesslike vigour of our coast heroes. i now lay wakeful and expectant. presently the shout came again. "tug's in sight, sir!" and once more i went on deck with the mate. the steamer was quickly alongside, heaving wildly in the sea, with the ramsgate lifeboat "bradford" in tow far astern. she merely slowed a little to admit of the same brief question and reply, the latter being repeated, as the boat passed, for the benefit of the coxswain. as she swept by us i looked down and observed that the ten men who formed her crew crouched flat on the thwarts. only the steersman sat up. no wonder. it must be hard to sit up in a stiff gale with freezing spray, and sometimes heavy seas sweeping over one. i knew that the men were wide awake and listening, but, as far as vision went that boat was manned only by ten oilskin coats and sou'-westers! a few seconds carried them out of sight, and thus, as regards the gull lightship, the drama ended. there was no possibility of the dwellers in the floating lights hearing anything of the details of that night's work until the fortnightly visit of their "tender" should fall due, but next morning at low tide, far away in the distance, we could see the wreck, bottom up, high on the goodwin sands. afterwards i learned that the ship's crew had escaped in one of their own boats, and taken refuge in the south sand head lightship, whence they were conveyed next day to land, so that the gallant men of ramsgate and broadstairs had all their toil and trouble for nothing! thus, you see, there are not only high lights and deep shadows, but also neutral tints in the various incidents which go to make up the grand picture of lifeboat work. there is a fund connected with the broadstairs lifeboat which deserves passing notice here. it was raised by the late sir charles reed, in 1867, the proceeds to be distributed annually among the seamen who save life on that coast. the following particulars of this fund were supplied by sir charles reed himself:-"eight boatmen of broadstairs were interested in a lugger--the dreadnought--which had for years done good service on the goodwins. one night they went off in a tremendous sea to save a french barque; but though they secured the crew, a steam-tug claimed the prize and towed her into ramsgate harbour. the broadstairs men instituted proceedings to secure the salvage, but they were beaten in a london law court, where they were overpowered by the advocacy of a powerful company. in the meantime they lost their lugger off the coast of normandy, and in this emergency the lawyers they had employed demanded their costs. the poor men had no means, and not being able to pay they were taken from their homes and lodged in maidstone gaol. he (sir charles) was then staying in broadstairs, and an appeal being made to him, he wrote to the `times', and in one week received nearly twice the amount required. the bill was paid, the men were liberated and brought home to their families, and the balance of the amount, a considerable sum, was invested, the interest to be applied to the rewarding of boatmen who, by personal bravery, had distinguished themselves by saving life on the coast." chapter four. construction and qualities of the lifeboat. in previous chapters enough has been told, i think, to prove that our lifeboats deserve earnest and thoughtful attention, not only as regards their work, but in reference to their details of construction. it has been said that the lifeboat possesses special qualities which distinguish it from all other boats. chief among these are the self-righting and self-emptying principles. stability, resulting from breadth of beam, etcetera, will do much to render a boat safe in rough seas and tempestuous weather, but when a boat has to face mighty rollers which turn it up until it stands straight on end, like a rearing horse, and even tumble it right over, or when it has to plunge into horrible maelstroms which seethe, leap, and fume in the mad contention of cross seas, no device that man has yet fallen upon will save it from turning keel up and throwing its contents into the water. instead therefore, of attempting to build a boat which cannot upset, men have deemed it wiser to attempt the construction of one which will not remain in that position, but which will, of necessity, right itself. the end aimed at has been achieved, and the boat now in use by the lifeboat institution is absolutely perfect in this respect. what more could be desired in any boat than that, after being upset, it should right itself in a _few seconds_, and empty itself of water in less than one minute? a boat which does not right itself when overturned is only a lifeboat so long as it maintains its proper position on the water. let its self-emptying and buoyant qualities be ever so good, you have only to upset it to render it no better than any other boat;--indeed, in a sense, it is worse than other boats, because it leads men to face danger which they would not dare to encounter in an ordinary boat. doubtless, lifeboats on the non-self-righting principle possess great stability, and are seldom overturned; nevertheless they occasionally are, and with fatal results. here is one example. in the month of january, 1865, the liverpool lifeboat, when out on service, was upset, and seven men of her crew were drowned. this was not a self-righting boat, and it did not belong to the lifeboat institution, most of whose boats are now built on the self-righting principle. moreover, the unfortunate men had not put on lifebelts. it may be added that the men who work the boats of the institution are not allowed to go off without their cork lifebelts on. take another case. on the 4th january, 1857, the point of ayr lifeboat, when under sail in a gale, upset at a distance from the land. the accident was seen from the shore, but no aid could be rendered, and the whole boat's crew--thirteen in number--were drowned. this boat was considered a good lifeboat, and doubtless it was so in many respects, but it was not a self-righting one. two or three of the poor fellows were seen clinging to the keel for twenty minutes, by which time they became exhausted, were washed off, and, having no lifebelts on, perished. again in february, 1858, the southwold lifeboat--a large sailing boat, esteemed one of the finest in the kingdom, but not on the self-righting principle--went out for exercise, and was running before a heavy surf with all sail set, when she suddenly ran on the top of a sea, turned broadside to the waves, and was upset. the crew in this case were fortunately near the shore, had on their lifebelts, and, although some of them could not swim, were all saved--no thanks, however, to their boat, which remained keel up--but three unfortunate gentlemen who had been permitted to go off in the boat without lifebelts, and one of whom was a good swimmer, lost their lives. let it be noted here that the above three instances of disaster occurred in the day time, and the contrast of the following case will appear all the stronger. one very dark and stormy night in october, 1858, the small lifeboat of dungeness put off through a heavy sea to a wreck three-quarters of a mile from the shore. eight stout men of the coastguard composed her crew. she was a self-righting, self-emptying boat, belonging to the lifeboat institution. the wreck was reached soon after midnight, and found to have been abandoned. the boat, therefore, returned towards the shore. now, there is a greater danger in rowing before a gale than in rowing against it. for the first half mile all went well, though the sea was heavy and broken, but, on crossing a deep channel between two shoals, the little lifeboat was caught up and struck by three heavy seas in succession. the coxswain lost command of the rudder, and she was carried away before a sea, broached to, and upset, throwing her crew out of her. _immediately_ she righted herself, cleared herself of water, and was brought up by her anchor which had fallen out when she was overturned. the crew meanwhile having on lifebelts, floated and swam to the boat, caught hold of the life-lines festooned round her sides, clambered into her, cut the cable, and returned to the shore in safety! what more need be said in favour of the self-righting boats? the self-emptying principle is quite equal to the self-righting in importance. in _every_ case of putting off to a wreck in a gale, a lifeboat ships a great deal of water. in most cases she fills more than once. frequently she is overwhelmed by tons of water by every sea. a boat full of water cannot advance, therefore baling becomes necessary; but baling, besides being very exhausting work, is so slow that it would be useless labour in most cases. besides, when men have to bale they cannot give that undivided attention to the oars which is needful. to overcome this difficulty the self-emptying plan was devised. as, i doubt not, the reader is now sufficiently interested to ask the questions, how are self-righting and self-emptying accomplished? i will try to throw some light on these subjects. first, as to self-righting. you are aware, no doubt, that the buoyancy of our lifeboat is due chiefly to large air-cases at the ends, and all round the sides from stem to stern. the accompanying drawing and diagrams will aid us in the description. on the opposite page you have a portrait of, let us say, a thirty-three feet, ten-oared lifeboat, of the royal national lifeboat institution, on its transporting carriage, ready for launching, and, on page 95, two diagrams representing respectively a section and a deck view of the same (figures 1, 2, and 3). the breadth of this boat is eight feet; its stowage-room sufficient for thirty passengers, besides its crew of twelve men--forty-two in all. it is double-banked; that is, each of its five banks, benches, or thwarts, accommodates two rowers sitting side by side. the lines festooned round the side dip into the water, so that anyone swimming alongside may easily grasp them, and in the middle part of the boat--just where the large wheels come in the engraving--two of the lines are longer than the others, so that a man might use them as stirrups, and thus be enabled to clamber into the boat even without assistance. the rudder descends considerably below the keel--to give it more power--and has to be raised when the boat is being launched. the shaded parts of the diagrams show the position and form of the air-cases which prevent a lifeboat from sinking. the white oblong space in figure 2 is the free space available for crew and passengers. in figure 3 is seen the depth to which the air-chambers descend, and the height to which the bow and stern-chambers rise. it is to these large air-chambers in bow and stern, coupled with great sheer--or rise fore and aft--of gunwale, and a very heavy keel, that the boat owes its self-righting power. the two air-chambers are rounded on the top. now, it is obvious that if you were to take a model of such a boat, turn it upside down on a table, and try to make it rest on its two _rounded_ air-chambers, you would encounter as much difficulty as did the friends of columbus when they sought to make an egg stand on its end. the boat would infallibly fall to one side or the other. in the water the tendency is precisely the same, and that tendency is increased by the heavy iron keel, which drags the boat violently round to its right position. the self-righting principle was discovered--at all events for the first time exhibited--at the end of last century, by the reverend james bremner, of orkney. he first suggested in the year 1792 that an ordinary boat might be made self-righting by placing two watertight casks in the head and sternsheets of it, and fastening three hundredweight of iron to the keel. afterwards he tried the experiment at leith, and with such success that in 1810 the society of arts voted him a silver medal and twenty guineas. but nothing further was done until half a century later, when twenty out of twenty-four pilots lost their lives by the upsetting of the non-self-righting shields lifeboat. then (1850) the late duke of northumberland offered a prize of 100 guineas for the best lifeboat that could be produced. no fewer than 280 models and drawings were sent in, and the plans, specifications, and descriptions of these formed five folio manuscript volumes! the various models were in the shape of pontoons, catamarans or rafts, north-country cobles, and ordinary boats, slightly modified. the committee appointed to decide on their respective merits had a difficult task to perform. after six months' careful, patient investigation and experiment, they awarded the prize to mr james beeching, of great yarmouth. beeching's boat, although the best, was not, however, deemed perfect. the committee therefore set mr james peake, one of their number, and assistant master-shipwright at woolwich dockyard, to incorporate as many as possible of the good qualities of all the other models with beeching's boat. from time to time various important improvements have been made, and the result is the present magnificent boat of the institution, by means of which hundreds of lives are saved every year. the self-discharge of water from a lifeboat is not so easy to explain. it will be the more readily comprehended if the reader understands, and will bear in remembrance, the physical fact that water will, and must, find its level. that is--no portion of water, small or great, in tub, pond, or sea, can for a moment remain above its flat and level surface, except when forced into motion, or commotion. left to itself it infallibly flattens out, becomes calm, lies still in the lowest attainable position--in other words, finds its level. bearing this in mind, let us look again at figure 3. the dotted double line about the middle of the boat, extending from stem to stern, represents the _floor_ of the boat, on which the men's feet rest when standing or sitting in it. it also represents, or very nearly so, the waterline outside, that is, the depth to which the boat will sink when afloat, manned and loaded. therefore, the _boat's floor_ and the _ocean_ _surface_ are on the same level. observe that! the space between the floor and the keel is filled up with cork or other ballast. now, there are six large holes in the boat's floor--each hole six inches in diameter--into which are fitted six metal tubes, which pass down by the side of the cork ballast, and right through the bottom of the boat itself; thus making six large openings into the sea. "but hallo!" you exclaim, "won't the water from below rush up through these holes and fill the boat?" it will indeed rush up into these holes, but it will not fill the boat because it will have found its level--the level of ocean--on reaching the floor. well, besides having reached its level, the water in the tubes has reached six valves, which will open downwards to let water out, but which won't open upwards to let it in. now, suppose a huge billow topples into the boat and fills it quite full, is it not obvious that all the water in the boat stands _above_ the ocean's level--being above the boat's floor? like a wise element, it immediately seeks its own level by the only mode of egress--the discharging tubes; and when it has found its level, it has also found the floor of the boat. in other words, it is all gone! moreover, it rushes out so violently that a lifeboat, filled to overflowing, frees itself, as i have already said, in less than one minute! the _buoyancy_, therefore, of a lifeboat is not affected for more than a few seconds by the tons of water which occasionally and frequently break into her. to prove this, let me refer you again to the account of the constance, given by its gallant coxswain, as recorded in the third chapter. he speaks of the lifeboat being "buried," "sunk" by the wave that burst over the bow of the stanley, and "immediately," he adds, "the men made a grasp for the spare oars!" there is no such remark as "when we recovered ourselves," etcetera. the sinking and leaping to the surface were evidently the work of a few seconds; and this is indeed the case, for when the force that sinks a lifeboat is removed, she rises that instant to the surface like a cork, and when she tumbles over she recovers herself with the agility of an acrobat! the transporting-carriage is a most essential part of a lifeboat establishment, because wrecks frequently take place at some distance from a station, and prompt assistance is of the utmost importance in all cases of rescue. it is drawn by horses, and, with its exceedingly broad and strong wheels, can be dragged over any kind of road or across soft sand. it is always backed into the surf so deep that the boat may be launched from it, with her crew seated, and the oars out, ready to pull with might and main the instant the plunge is made. these first strokes of a lifeboat's crew are of immense importance. want of union or energy on the part of steersman or crew at this critical point may be fatal. the boat must be made to cut the breakers end-on, so as to prevent her turning broadside on and being rolled back on the beach. even after these initial strokes have been made successfully, there still remains the possibility of an unusually monstrous wave hurling the boat back end over end. the boat resting on its carriage on the sands (figure 1) shows the relative position of the two. it will be seen, from that position, that a very slight tip will suffice to cause the bow of the boat to drop towards the sea. as its keel rests on rollers, comparatively little force is required to launch it. such force is applied by means of ropes attached to the stern, passing through pulleys at the outer end of the carriage, so that people on shore haul the ropes inland in order to force the boat off its carriage seaward. once the boat has got fairly over the surf and out upon the wild sea, her progress is comparatively safe, simple tugging against wind and sea being all that has to be done until the wreck is reached, where dangers of another kind await her. i have now shown that the great qualities of our lifeboat are--_buoyancy_, or a tendency not to sink; _self-righting_ power, or inability to remain upside down; _self-emptying_ power, or a capacity to discharge any water that may get into it; and _stability_, or a tendency not to upset. the last quality i shall refer to, though by no means the least, is _strength_. from what has been already written about lifeboats being hurled against wrecks and rocks, it must be evident that the strength of ordinary boats would not suffice. in order to give them the requisite strength of frame for their tremendous warfare, they are built of the best honduras mahogany, on what is known as the diagonal plan--that is, the boat has two distinct "skins" of planking, one set of planks being laid on in a diagonal position to the others. moreover, these planks run from one gunwale round under the boat to the other gunwale, and have a complete layer of prepared canvas between them. thus great strength and elasticity are combined, so that the boat can stand an inconceivable amount of battering on wreckage, rocks, or sand, without being destroyed. that this is really so i will endeavour to prove by referring in the next chapter to a particular instance in which the great strength of one of our lifeboats was powerfully illustrated. it may be added, in conclusion, that the oars of a lifeboat are short, and so made as to combine the greatest possible strength with lightness. they are fastened to the gunwale by short pieces of rope, and work in a moveable iron crutch on an iron thole-pin. each boat is provided with a set of spare oars. her equipment of compass, cables, grapnels, anchors, etcetera, is, as may be supposed, very complete, and she rides upon the storm in a rather gay dress of red, white, and blue, in order that she may be readily distinguished from other boats--her lower parts being white, her upper sides blue, and her line of "fender" all round being scarlet. chapter five. more tales of heroism. if any one should doubt the fact that a lifeboat is _all but_ indestructible, let that sceptical one read the following tale of wreck and rescue. on a terrible night in the year 1857 a portuguese brig struck on the goodwin sands, not far from the lightship that marks the northern extremity of those fatal shoals. a shot was fired, and a rocket sent up by the lightship. no second signal was needed. the ramsgate men were, as usual, keeping a bright lookout. instantly they jumped into the lifeboat, which lay calmly floating in the harbour alongside the pier. so eager were the men to engage in the deadly struggle that the boat was over-manned, and the last two who jumped in were obliged to go ashore again. the tug _aid_ was all ready--according to custom--with steam up. she took the boat in tow and made for the mouth of the harbour. staggering out in the teeth of tide and tempest they ploughed their way through a heavy cross sea, that swept again and again over them, until they reached the edge of the goodwins. here the steamer cast off the boat, and waited for her while she dashed into the surf, and bore the brunt of the battle alone. it was a familiar proceeding to all concerned. many a time before had the ramsgate boat and steamer rescued men and women and little ones from the jaws of death on the goodwins, but they were about to experience a few novelties that night. it was very dark, so that the boat had much difficulty in finding the brig. on coming within about eighty yards of her they cast anchor and veered down under her lee. at first they were in hopes of getting the vessel off, and some hours were spent in vain attempts to do this, but the gale increased in fury; the brig began to break up. she rolled from side to side, and the yards swung wildly in the air. a blow from one of these yards would have stove the boat in, so the portuguese crew--twelve men and a boy--were taken from the wreck, and the lifeboat-men endeavoured to push off. all this time the boat had been floating in a basin worked in the sand by the motion of the wreck; but the tide had been falling, and when they tried to pull up to their anchor the boat struck heavily on the edge of this basin. they worked to get off the shoals with the energy of men who believe that their lives depend on their efforts. for a moment they succeeded in getting afloat, but again struck and remained fast. meanwhile the brig was lifted by each wave, that came rushing over the shoals like a mountain chain of snow, and let fall with a thundering crash. her timbers began to snap like pipe-stems, and, as she worked nearer and nearer to the boat, the wildly-swaying yards threatened immediate destruction. the heavy seas flew continually over the lifeboat, so that passengers and crew could do nothing but hold on to the thwarts for their lives. at last the brig came so near that there was a stir among the men; they were preparing for the last struggle-some of them intending to leap into the rigging of the wreck and take their chance. but the coxswain shouted, "stick to the boat, boys, stick to the boat!" and the men obeyed. at that moment the boat lifted a little on the surf and grounded again. new hope was inspired by this. they pulled at the cable and shoved might and main with the oars. they succeeded in getting out of immediate danger, but still could not pull up to their anchor in the teeth of wind and tide. the coxswain then saw plainly that there was but one resource left--to cut the cable and drive away to leeward right across the goodwin sands, which at that place were two miles wide. but there was not yet sufficient water on the sands even for the attempting of that forlorn hope. as far as could be seen in that direction, ay, and far beyond the power of vision, there was nothing but a chaos of wild, tumultuous, whirling foam, without sufficient depth to float them over, so they held on, intending to wait till the tide, which had turned, should rise. very soon, however, the anchor began to drag. this compelled them to hoist sail, cut the cable sooner than they had intended, and attempt to beat to windward--off the sands. it was in vain. a moment more, and they struck with tremendous force. a breaker came rolling towards them, filled the boat, caught her up like a plaything on its crest, and, hurling her a few yards onwards, let her fall with a shock that well-nigh tore every man out of her. each successive breaker treated her in this way! those who dwell by the seashore know well those familiar ripples that mark the sands when the tide is out. on the goodwins those ripples are gigantic banks, to be measured by feet, not by inches. i can speak from personal experience, having once visited the goodwins and walked among the sand-banks at low water. from one to another of these banks this splendid boat was thrown. each roaring surf caught it by the bow or stern, and, whirling it right round, sent it crashing on the next ledge. the portuguese sailors gave up all hope and clung to the thwarts in silent despair, but the crew did not lose heart altogether. they knew the boat well, had often gone out to battle in her, and hoped that they might yet be saved, if they could only escape striking on the pieces of old wreck with which the sands were strewn. thus, literally, yard by yard, with a succession of shocks, that would have knocked any ordinary boat to pieces, did that lifeboat drive, during two hours, over two miles of the goodwin sands! a thrilling and graphic account of this wreck and rescue is given in the reverend john gilmore's book, "storm warriors," in which he tells us that while this exciting work was going on, the _aid_ lay head to wind, steaming half power, and holding her own against the storm, waiting for her lifeboat, but no lifeboat returned to her, and her gallant captain became more and more anxious as time flew by. could it be possible that her sturdy little comrade, with whom she had gone out to battle in hundreds of gales, was overcome at last and destroyed! they signalled again and again, but got no reply. then, as their fears increased, they began to cruise about as near to the dangerous shoals as they dared-almost playing with death--as they eagerly sought for their consort. at last the conviction was forced upon them that the boat must have been stove by the wreck and swamped. in the midst of their gathering despair they caught sight of the lightship's bright beam, shining like a star of hope through the surrounding darkness. with a faint hope they made for the vessel and hailed her. "have you seen anything of the lifeboat?" was the eager question. "nothing! nothing!" was the sad reply. back they went again to the place they had left, determined to cruise on, hoping against hope, till the night should pass away. hour after hour they steamed hither and thither, with anxiously straining eyes. at last grey dawn appeared and the wreck became dimly visible. they made for it, and their worst fears were realised--the remnant of the brig's hull was there with ropes and wreckage tossing wildly round it--but no lifeboat! sadly they turned away and continued to search for some time in the faint hope that some of her crew might be floating about, buoyed up by their lifebelts, but none were found, and at last they reluctantly made for the harbour. and when the harbour was gained what saw they there? the lifeboat! safe and sound, floating as calmly beside the pier as if nothing had happened! as the captain of the _aid_ himself said, he felt inclined at once to shout and cry for wonder, and we may be sure that his wonder was not decreased when he heard the lifeboat's story from the brave coxswain's lips--how that, after driving right across the sands, as i have described, they suddenly found themselves in deep water. that then, knowing the extremity of danger to be past, they had set the sails, and, soon after, had, through god's mercy, landed the rescued portuguese crew in ramsgate harbour! it must not be imagined, however, that such work as this can be done without great cost to those who undertake it. some of the men never recovered from the effects of that night's exposure. the gratitude of the portuguese seamen was very great, as well as their amazement at such a rescue! it is recorded of them that, before arriving in the harbour, they were observed to be in consultation together, and that one who understood a little english spoke to one of the crew in an undertone. "coxswain," said the lifeboat man, "they want to give us all their money!" "yes, yes," cried the portuguese interpreter, in broken english; "you have saved our lives! thank you, thank you! but all we have is yours. it is not much, but you may take it between you." the amount was seventeen pounds! as might have been expected, neither the coxswain nor his men would accept a penny of it. this coxswain was isaac jarman, who for many years led the famous ramsgate lifeboat into action, and helped to save hundreds of human lives. while staying at ramsgate i had the pleasure of shaking the strong hard hand of jarman, and heard some of his adventures from his own lips. now, from all that has been said, it will, i think, be seen and admitted that the lifeboats of the institution are almost indestructible. the _lifebelt_, to which reference has been so often made, deserves special notice at this point. the figure on the title-page shows its appearance and the manner in which it is worn. it was designed in 1854, by admiral j.r. ward, the institution's chief inspector of lifeboats. its chief quality is its great buoyancy, which is not only sufficient to support a man with head and shoulders above water when heavily clothed, but enables the wearer easily to support another person--the extra buoyancy being 25 pounds. besides possessing several great advantages over other lifebelts, that of admiral ward is divided in the middle by a space, where the waistbelt is fastened. this permits of great freedom of action, and the whole machine is remarkably flexible. it is also very strong, forming a species of armour which protects the wearer from severe blows, and, moreover, helps to keep him warm. it behoves me now to say a few words about the inventor of lifeboats. as has been told, our present splendid boat is a combination of all the good points and improvements made in such boats down to the present time. but the man who first thought of a lifeboat and invented one; who fought against apathy and opposition; who completed and launched his ark of mercy on the sea at bamborough, in the shape of a little coble, in the year 1785, and who actually saved many lives therewith, was a london coachbuilder, lionel lukin by name. assuredly this man deserved the deepest gratitude of the nation, for his was the first lifeboat ever brought into action, and he inserted the small end of that wedge which we have been hammering home ever since, and which has resulted in the formation of one of the grandest, most thoroughly national and unsectarian of our charitable institutions. henry greathead--a boatbuilder of south shields--erroneously got the credit of this invention. greathead was a noted improver and builder of lifeboats, and was well and deservedly rewarded for his work; but he was not the inventor. lionel lukin alone can claim that honour. in regard to the men who man them, enough has been written to prove that they well deserve to be regarded as the heroes of the coast! and let me observe in passing that there are also _heroines_ of the coast, as the following extract from the journal of the institution will show. it appeared in the january number of 1865. "voted the silver medal of the institution, and a copy of its vote of thanks on parchment, to miss alice r. le geyt, in admiration of her prompt and courageous conduct in rowing a small boat into the surf at the risk of her life, and rescuing two little boys who had fallen into the sea from the outer pier at lyme regis, dorset, on the 4th august." again, in october, 1879, the committee of the national lifeboat institution voted the silver medal of the institution, and a copy of the vote inscribed on vellum, to miss ellen francis prideaux brune, miss gertrude rose prideaux brune, miss mary katherine prideaux brune, miss beatrice may prideaux brune, and miss nora o'shaughnessy, in acknowledgment of their intrepid and prompt services in proceeding through a heavy surf in their rowing-boat, and saving, at considerable risk of life, a sailor from a boat which had been capsized by a squall of wind off bray hill, padstow harbour, cornwall, on the 9th august. when the accident occurred, the ladies' boat was being towed astern of a fishing-boat, and miss ellen prideaux brune, with great gallantry and determination, asked to be cast off, and, with her companions, she proceeded with all possible despatch to the rescue of the drowning sailor. all the ladies showed great courage, presence of mind, and marked ability in the management of their small boat. they ran great risk in getting the man into it, on account of the strong tide and sea on at the time. so it would appear that the spirit of the far-famed grace darling has not yet departed from the land! if heroism consists in boldly facing and successfully overcoming dangers of the most appalling nature, then i hold that thousands of our men of the coast--from shetland to the land's end--stand as high as do those among our soldiers and sailors who wear the victoria cross. let us consider an example. on that night in which the royal charter went down, there was a maltese sailor on board named joseph rodgers, who volunteered to swim ashore with a rope. those who have seen the effect of a raging sea even on a smooth beach, know that the power of the falling waves is terrible, and their retreating force so great that the most powerful swimmers occasionally perish in them. but the coast to which rodgers volunteered to swim was an almost perpendicular cliff. i write as an eye-witness, reader, for i saw the cliff myself, a few days after the wreck took place, when i went down to that dreary coast of anglesea to identify the bodies of lost kindred. ay, and at that time i also saw something of the awful aspect of loss by shipwreck. i went into the little church at llanalgo, where upwards of thirty bodies lay upon the floor--still in their wet garments, just as they had been laid down by those who had brought them from the shore. as i entered that church one body lay directly in my path. it was that of a young sailor. strange to say, his cheeks were still ruddy as though he had been alive, and his lips were tightly compressed--i could not help fancying--with the force of the last strong effort he had made to keep out the deadly sea. just beyond him lay a woman, and beside her a little child, in their ordinary walking-dresses, as if they had lain down there and fallen asleep side by side. i had to step across these silent forms, as they lay, some in the full light of the windows, others in darkened corners of the little church, and to gaze earnestly into their dead faces for the lineaments of those whom i had gone to find-but i did not find them there. their bodies were washed ashore some days afterwards. a few of those who lay on that floor were covered to hide the mutilation they had received when being driven on the cruel rocks. altogether it was an awful sight--well fitted to draw forth the prayer, "god help and bless those daring men who are willing to risk their lives at any moment all the year round, to save men and women and little ones from such a fate as this!" but, to return to joseph rodgers. the cliff to which he volunteered to swim was thundered on by seas raised by one of the fiercest gales that ever visited our shores. it was dark, too, and broken spars and pieces of wreck tossing about increased the danger; while the water was cold enough to chill the life-blood in the stoutest frame. no one knew better than rodgers the extreme danger of the attempt, yet he plunged into the sea with a rope round his waist. had his motive been self-preservation he could have gained the shore more easily without a rope; but his motive was not selfish--it was truly generous. he reached the land, hauled a cable ashore, made it fast to a rock, and began to rescue the crew, and i have no doubt that every soul in that vessel would have been saved if she had not suddenly split across and sunk. four hundred and fifty-five lives were lost, but before the catastrophe took place _thirty-nine_ lives were saved by the heroism of that maltese sailor. the lifeboat institution awarded its gold medal, with its vote of thanks inscribed on vellum, and 5 pounds, to rodgers, in acknowledgment of his noble conduct. all round the kingdom the men are, as a rule, eager to man our lifeboats. usually there is a _rush_ to the work; and as the men get only ten shillings per man in the daytime, and twenty shillings at night, on each occasion of going off, it can scarcely be supposed that they do it only for the sake of the pay! true, those payments are increased on occasions of unusual risk or exposure; nevertheless, i believe that a worthier motive animates our men of the coast. i do not say, or think, that religious feeling is the cause of their heroism. with some, doubtless, it is; with others it probably is not; but i sincerely believe that the _word of god_--permeating as it does our whole community, and influencing these men either directly or indirectly--is the cause of their self-sacrificing courage, as it is unquestionably the cause of our national prosperity. chapter six. supplies a few points for consideration. i have now somewhat to say about the royal national lifeboat institution, which has the entire management and control of our fleet of 273 lifeboats. that institution has had a glorious history. it was founded by sir william hillary, baronet--a man who deserves a monument in westminster abbey, i think; for, besides originating the lifeboat institution, he saved, and assisted in saving, 305 lives, with his own hands! born in 1824, the institution has been the means of saving no fewer than 29,608 lives up to the end of 1882. at its birth the archbishop of canterbury presided; the great wilberforce, lord john russell, and other magnates were present; the dukes of kent, sussex, and other members of the royal family, became vice-patrons, the earl of liverpool its president, and george the fourth its patron. in 1850 good prince albert became its vice-patron, and her majesty the queen became, and still continues, a warm supporter and annual contributor. this is a splendid array of names and titles, but let me urge the reader never to forget that this noble institution depends on the public for the adequate discharge of its grand work, for it is supported almost entirely by voluntary contributions. the sole object of the institution is to provide and maintain boats that shall save the lives of shipwrecked persons, and to reward those who save lives, whether by means of its own or other boats. the grandeur of its aim and singleness of its purpose are among its great recommendations. when, however, life does not require to be saved, and when opportunity offers, it allows its boats to save property. it saves--and rewards those who assist in saving--many hundreds of lives every year. last year (1882) the number saved by lifeboats was 741, besides 143 lives saved by shore-boats and other means, for which rewards were given by the institution; making a grand total of 884 lives saved in that one year. the number each year is often larger, seldom less. one year (1869) the rescued lives amounted to the grand number of 1231, and in the greater number of cases the rescues were effected in circumstances in which ordinary boats would have been utterly useless-worse than useless, for they would have drowned their crews. in respect of this matter the value of the lifeboat to the nation cannot be estimated--at least, not until we invent some sort of spiritual arithmetic whereby we may calculate the price of widows' and orphans' tears, and of broken hearts! but in regard to more material things it is possible to speak definitely. it frequently happens in stormy weather that vessels show signals of distress, either because they are so badly strained as to be in a sinking condition, or so damaged that they are unmanageable, or the crews have become so exhausted as to be no longer capable of working for their own preservation. in all such cases the lifeboat puts off with the intention in the first instance of saving life. it reaches the vessel in distress; some of the boat's crew spring on board, and find, perhaps, that there is some hope of saving the ship. knowing the locality well, they steer her clear of rocks and shoals. being comparatively fresh and vigorous, they work the pumps with a will, manage to keep her afloat, and finally steer her into port, thus saving ship and cargo as well as crew. now let me impress on you that incidents of this sort are not of rare occurrence. there is no play of fancy in my statements; they happen every year. last year (1882) twenty-three vessels were thus saved by lifeboat crews. another year thirty-three, another year fifty-three, ships were thus saved. as surely and regularly as the year comes round, so surely and regularly are ships and property saved by lifeboats--saved _to the nation_! it cannot be too forcibly pointed out that a wrecked ship is not only an individual, but a national loss. insurance protects the individual, but insurance cannot, in the nature of things, protect the nation. if you drop a thousand sovereigns in the street, that is a loss to you, but not to the nation; some lucky individual will find the money and circulate it. but if you drop it into the sea, it is lost not only to you, but to the nation, indeed to the world itself, for ever,-of course taking for granted that our amphibious divers don't fish it up again! well, let us gauge the value of our lifeboats in this light. if a lifeboat saves a ship worth ten or twenty thousand sovereigns from destruction, it presents that sum literally as a free gift to owners _and_ nation. a free gift, i repeat, because lifeboats are provided solely to save life--not property. saving the latter is, therefore, extraneous service. of course it would be too much to expect our gallant boatmen to volunteer to work the lifeboats, in the worst of weather, at the imminent risk of their lives, unless they were also allowed an occasional chance of earning salvage. accordingly, when they save a ship worth, say 20,000 pounds, they are entitled to put in a claim on the owners for 200 pounds salvage. this sum would be divided (after deducting all expenses, such as payments to helpers, hire of horses, etcetera) between the men and the boat. thus--deduct, say, 20 pounds expenses leaves 180 pounds to divide into fifteen shares; the crew numbering thirteen men:-+==================================+==========+ |13 shares to men at 12 pounds each|156 pounds| +----------------------------------+----------+ |2 shares to boat |24 pounds | +----------------------------------+----------+ |total |180 pounds| +==================================+==========+ let us now consider the value of loaded ships. not very long ago a large spanish ship was saved by one of our lifeboats. she had grounded on a bank off the south coast of ireland. the captain and crew forsook her and escaped to land in their boats. one man, however, was inadvertently left on board. soon after, the wind shifted; the ship slipped off the bank into deep water, and drifted to the northward. her doom appeared to be fixed, but the crew of the cahore lifeboat observed her, launched their boat, and, after a long pull against wind and sea, boarded the ship and found her with seven feet of water in the hold. the duty of the boat's crew was to save the spanish sailor, but they did more, they worked the pumps and trimmed the sails and saved the ship as well, and handed her over to an agent for the owners. this vessel and cargo was valued at 20,000 pounds. now observe, in passing, that this cahore lifeboat not only did much good, but received considerable and well-merited benefit, each man receiving 34 pounds from the grateful owners, who also presented 68 pounds to the institution, in consideration of the risk of damage incurred to their boat. no doubt it may be objected that this, being a foreign ship, was not saved to _our_ nation; but, as the proverb says, "it is not lost what a friend gets," and i think it is very satisfactory to reflect that we presented the handsome sum of 20,000 pounds to spain as a free gift on that occasion. this was a saved ship. let us look now at a lost one. some years ago a ship named the golden age was lost. it was well named though ill-fated, for the value of that ship and cargo was 200,000 pounds. the cost of a lifeboat with equipment and transporting carriage complete is about 650 pounds, and there are 273 lifeboats at present on the shores of the united kingdom. here is material for a calculation! if that single ship had been among the twenty-seven saved last year (and it _might_ have been) the sum thus rescued from the sea would have been sufficient to pay for all the lifeboats in the kingdom, and leave 22,550 pounds in hand! but it was _not_ among the saved. it was lost--a dead loss to great britain. so was the ontario of liverpool, wrecked in october, 1864, and valued at 100,000 pounds. also the assage, wrecked on the irish coast, and valued at 200,000 pounds. here are five hundred thousand pounds--half a million of money--lost by the wreck of these three ships alone. of course, these three are selected as specimens of the most valuable vessels lost among the two thousand wrecks that take place _each year_ on our coasts; they vary from a first-rate mail steamer to a coal coffin, but set them down at any figure you please, and it will still remain true that it would be worth our while to keep up our lifeboat fleet, for the mere chance of saving such valuable property. but after all is said that can be said on this point, the subject sinks into insignificance when contrasted with the lifeboat's true work--the saving of human lives. there is yet another and still higher sense in which the lifeboat is of immense value to the nation. i refer to the moral influence it exercises among us. if many hundreds of lives are annually saved by our lifeboat fleet, does it not follow, as a necessary consequence, that happiness and gratitude must affect thousands of hearts in a way that cannot fail to redound to the glory of god, as well as the good of man? let facts answer this question. we cannot of course, intrude on the privacy of human hearts and tell what goes on there, but there are a few outward symptoms that are generally accepted as pretty fair tests of spiritual condition. one of these is parting with money! looking at the matter in this light, the records of the institution show that thousands of men, women, and children, are beneficially influenced by the lifeboat cause. the highest contributor to its funds in the land is our queen; the lowliest a sailor's orphan child. here are a few of the gifts to the institution, culled almost at random from the reports. one gentleman leaves it a legacy of 10,000 pounds. some time ago a sum of 5000 pounds was sent anonymously by "a friend." a hundred pounds comes in as a _second_ donation from "a sailor's daughter." fifty pounds come from a british admiral, and five shillings from "the savings of a child!" one-and-sixpence is sent by another child in postage-stamps, and 1 pound 5 shillings as the collection of a sunday school in manchester; 15 pounds from three fellow-servants; 10 pounds from a shipwrecked pilot, and 10 shillings, 6 pence from an "old salt." i myself had once the pleasure of receiving twopence for the lifeboat cause from an exceedingly poor but enthusiastic old woman! but my most interesting experience in this way was the receipt of a note written by a blind boy--well and legibly written, too--telling me that he had raised the sum of 100 pounds for the lifeboat institution. and this beneficial influence of our lifeboat service travels far beyond our own shores. here is evidence of that. finland sends 50 pounds to our institution to testify its appreciation of the good done by us to its sailors. president lincoln, of the united states, when involved in all the anxieties of the great war between north and south, found time to send 100 pounds to the institution in acknowledgment of services rendered to american ships in distress. russia and holland send naval men to inspect--not our armaments and _materiel_ of hateful war, but-our lifeboat management! france, in generous emulation, starts a lifeboat institution of its own, and sends over to ask our society to supply it with boats--and, last, but not least, it has been said that foreigners, driven far out of their course and stranded, soon come to know that they have been wrecked on the british coast, by the persevering efforts that are made to save their lives! and now, good reader, let me urge this subject on your earnest consideration. surely every one should be ready to lend a hand to _rescue the perishing_! one would think it almost superfluous to say more. so it would be, if there were none who required the line of duty and privilege to be pointed out to them. but i fear that many, especially dwellers in the interior of our land, are not sufficiently alive to the claims that the lifeboat has upon them. let me illustrate this by a case or two--imaginary cases, i admit, but none the less illustrative on that account. "mother," says a little boy, with flashing eyes and curly flaxen hair; "i want to go to sea!" he has been reading "cook's voyages" and "robinson crusoe," and looks wistfully out upon the small pond in front of his home, which is the biggest "bit of water" his eyes have ever seen, for he dwells among the cornfields and pastures of the interior of the land. "don't think of it, darling willie. you might get wrecked,--perhaps drowned." but "darling willie" does think of it, and asserts that being wrecked is the very thing he wants, and that he's willing to take his chance of being drowned! and willie goes on thinking of it, year after year, until he gains his point, and becomes the family's "sailor boy," and mayhap, for the first time in her life, willie's mother casts more than a passing glance at newspaper records of lifeboat work. but she does no more. she has not yet been awakened. "the people of the coast naturally look after the things of the coast," has been her sentiment on the subject--if she has had any definite sentiments about it at all. on returning from his first voyage willie's ship is wrecked. on a horrible night, in the howling tempest, with his flaxen curls tossed about, his hands convulsively clutching the shrouds of the topmast, and the hissing billows leaping up as if they wished to lick him off his refuge on the cross-trees, willie awakens to the dread reality about which he had dreamed when reading cook and crusoe. next morning a lady with livid face, and eyes glaring at a newspaper, gasps, "willie's ship--is--wrecked! five lost--thirteen saved by the lifeboat." one faint gleam of hope! "willie may be among the thirteen!" minutes, that seem hours, of agony ensue; then a telegram arrives, "_saved, mother-thank god,--by the lifeboat_." "ay, thank god," echoes willie's mother, with the profoundest emotion and sincerity she ever felt; but think you, reader, that she did no more? did she pass languidly over the records of lifeboat work after _that_ day? did she leave the management and support of lifeboats to _the people of the coast_? i trow not. but what difference had the saving of willie made in the lifeboat cause? was hers the only willie in the wide world? are we to act on so selfish a principle, as that we shall decline to take an interest in an admittedly grand and good and national cause, until our eyes are forcibly opened by "our willie" being in danger? of course i address myself to people who have really kind and sympathetic hearts, but who, from one cause or another, have not yet had this subject earnestly submitted to their consideration. to those who have _no heart_ to consider the woes and necessities of suffering humanity, i have nothing whatever to say,--except,--god help them! let me enforce this plea--that _inland_ cities and towns and villages should support the lifeboat institution--with another imaginary case. a tremendous gale is blowing from the south-east, sleet driving like needles--enough, almost, to put your eyes out. a "good ship," under close-reefed topsails, is bearing up for port after a prosperous voyage, but the air is so thick with drift that they cannot make out the guiding lights. she strikes and sticks fast on outlying sands, where the sea is roaring and leaping like a thousand fiends in the wintry blast. there are passengers on board from the antipodes, with boxes and bags of gold-dust, the result of years of toil at the diggings. they do not realise the full significance of the catastrophe. no wonder--they are landsmen! the tide chances to be low at the time; as it rises, they awake to the dread reality. billows burst over them like miniature niagaras. the good ship which has for many weeks breasted the waves so gallantly, and seemed so solid and so strong, is treated like a cork, and becomes apparently an egg-shell! night comes--darkness increasing the awful aspect of the situation tenfold. what are boxes and bags of gold-dust now--now that wild despair has seized them all, excepting those who, through god's grace, have learned to "fear no evil?" suddenly, through darkness, spray, and hurly-burly thick, a ghostly boat is seen! the lifeboat! well do the seamen know its form! a cheer arouses sinking hearts, and hope once more revives. the work of rescuing is vigorously, violently, almost fiercely begun. the merest child might see that the motto of the lifeboat-men is "victory or death." but it cannot be done as quickly as they desire; the rolling of the wreck, the mad plunging and sheering of the boat, prevent that. a sturdy middle-aged man named brown--a common name, frequently associated with common sense--is having a rope fastened round his waist by one of the lifeboat crew named jones--also a common name, not seldom associated with uncommon courage. but brown must wait a few minutes while his wife is being lowered into the boat. "oh! be careful. do it gently, there's a good fellow," roars brown, in terrible anxiety, as he sees her swung off. "never fear, sir; she's all right," says jones, with a quiet reassuring smile, for jones is a tough old hand, accustomed to such scenes. mrs brown misses the boat, and dips into the raging sea. "gone!" gasps brown, struggling to free himself from jones and leap after her, but the grasp of jones is too much for him. "hold on, sir? _she's_ all right, sir, bless you; they'll have her on board in a minute." "i've got bags, boxes, _bucketfuls_ of gold in the hold," roars brown. "only save her, and it's all yours!" the shrieking blast will not allow even _his_ strong voice to reach the men in the lifeboat, but they need no such inducement to work. "the gold won't be yours long," remarks jones, with another smile. neptune'll have it all to-night. see! they've got her into the boat all right, sir. now don't struggle so; you'll get down to her in a minute. there's another lady to go before your turn comes. during these few moments of forced inaction the self-possessed jones remarks to brown, in order to quiet him, that they'll be all saved in half an hour, and asks if he lives near that part of the coast. "live near it!" gasps brown. "no! i live nowhere. bin five years at the diggings. made a fortune. going to live with the old folk now--at blunderton, far away from the sea; high up among the mountains." "hm!" grunts jones. "do they help to float the lifeboats at blunderton?" "the lifeboats? no, of course not; never think of lifeboats up there." "some of you think of 'em down _here_, though," remarks jones. "do _you_ help the cause in any way, sir?" "me? no. never gave a shilling to it." "well, never mind. it's your turn now, sir. come along. we'll save you. jump!" cries jones. and they do save him, and all on board of that ill-fated ship, with as much heartfelt satisfaction as if the rescued ones had each been a contributor of a thousand a year to the lifeboat cause. "don't forget us, sir, when you gits home," whispers jones to brown at parting. and _does_ brown forget him? nay, verily! he goes home to blunderton, stirs up the people, hires the town-hall, gets the chief magistrate to take the chair, and forms a _branch_ of the royal national lifeboat institution--the blunderton branch, which, ever afterwards, honourably bears its annual share in the expense, and in the privilege, of rescuing men, women, and little ones from the raging seas. moreover, brown becomes the enthusiastic secretary of the branch. and here let me remark that no society of this nature can hope to succeed, unless its secretary be an enthusiast. now, reader, if you think i have made out a good case, let me entreat you to go, with brown in your eye, "and do likewise." and don't fancy that i am advising you to attempt the impossible. the supposed blunderton case is founded on fact. during a lecturing tour one man--somewhat enthusiastic in the lifeboat cause--preached the propriety of inland towns starting branches of the lifeboat institution. upwards of half a dozen such towns responded to the exhortation, and, from that date, have continued to be annual contributors and sympathisers. chapter seven. the life-saving rocket. we shall now turn from the lifeboat to our other great engine of war with which we do battle with the sea from year to year, namely, the rocket apparatus. this engine, however, is in the hands of government, and is managed by the coastguard. and it may be remarked here, in reference to coastguard men, that they render constant and effective aid in the saving of shipwrecked crews. at least one-third of the medals awarded by the lifeboat institution go to the men of the coastguard. every one has heard of captain manby's mortar. its object is to effect communication between a stranded ship and the shore by means of a rope attached to a shot, which is fired over the former. the same end is now more easily attained by a rocket with a light rope, or line, attached to it. now the rocket apparatus is a little complicated, and ignorance in regard to the manner of using it has been the cause of some loss of life. many people think that if a rope can only be conveyed from a stranded ship to the shore, the saving of the crew is comparatively a sure and easy matter. this is a mistake. if a rope--a stout cable-were fixed between a wreck and the shore, say at a distance of three or four hundred yards, it is obvious that only a few of the strongest men could clamber along it. even these, if benumbed and exhausted--as is frequently the case in shipwreck--could not accomplish the feat. but let us suppose, still further, that the vessel rolls from side to side, dipping the rope in the sea and jerking it out again at each roll, what man could make the attempt with much hope of success, and what, in such circumstances, would become of women and children? more than one rope must be fixed between ship and shore, if the work of saving life is to be done efficiently. accordingly, in the rocket apparatus there are four distinct portions of tackle. first the _rocket-line_; second, the _whip_; third, the _hawser_; and, fourth, the _lifebuoy_--sometimes called the sling-lifebuoy, and sometimes the breeches-buoy. the rocket-line is that which is first thrown over the wreck by the rocket. it is small and light, and of considerable length--the extreme distance to which a rocket may carry it in the teeth of a gale being between three and four hundred yards. the whip is a thicker line, rove through a block or pulley, and having its two ends spliced together without a knot, in such a manner that the join does not check the running of the rope through the pulley. thus the whip becomes a double line--a sort of continuous rope, or, as it is called, an "endless fall," by means of which the lifebuoy is passed to and fro between the wreck and shore. the hawser is a thick rope, or cable, to which the lifebuoy is suspended when in action. the lifebuoy is one of those circular lifebuoys--with which most of us are familiar--which hang at the sides of steamers and other vessels, to be ready in case of any one falling overboard. it has, however, the addition of a pair of huge canvas breeches attached to it, to prevent those who are being rescued from slipping through. let us suppose, now, that a wreck is on the shore at a part where the coast is rugged and steep, the beach very narrow, and the water so deep that it has been driven on the rocks not more than a couple of hundred yards from the cliffs. the beach is so rocky that no lifeboat would dare to approach, or, if she did venture, she would be speedily dashed to pieces--for a lifeboat is not _absolutely_ invulnerable! the coastguardsmen are on the alert. they had followed the vessel with anxious looks for hours that day as she struggled right gallantly to weather the headland and make the harbour. when they saw her miss stays on the last tack and drift shoreward, they knew her doom was fixed; hurried off for the rocket-cart; ran it down to the narrow strip of pebbly beach below the cliffs, and now they are fixing up the shore part of the apparatus. the chief part of this consists of the rocket-stand and the box in which the line is coiled, in a peculiar and scarcely describable manner, that permits of its flying out with great freedom. while thus engaged they hear the crashing of the vessel's timbers as the great waves hurl or grind her against the hungry rocks. they also hear the cries of agonised men and women rising even above the howling storm, and hasten their operations. at last all is ready. the rocket, a large one made of iron, is placed in its stand, a _stick_ and the _line_ are attached to it, a careful aim is taken, and fire applied. amid a blaze and burst of smoke the rocket leaps from its position, and rushes out to sea with a furious persistency that even the storm-fiend himself is powerless to arrest. but he can baffle it to some extent--sufficient allowance has not been made for the force and direction of the wind. the rocket flies, indeed, beyond the wreck, but drops into the sea, a little to the left of her. "another--look alive!" is the sharp order. again the fiery messenger of mercy leaps forth, and this time with success. the line drops over the wreck and catches in the rigging. and at this point comes into play, sometimes, that ignorance to which i have referred--culpable ignorance, for surely every captain who sails upon the sea ought to have intimate acquaintance with the details of the life-saving apparatus of every nation. yet, so it is, that some crews, after receiving the rocket-line, have not known what to do with it, and have even perished with the means of deliverance in their grasp. in one case several men of a crew tied themselves together with the end of the line and leaped into the sea! they were indeed hauled ashore, but i believe that most, if not all, of them were drowned. those whom we are now rescuing, however, are gifted, let us suppose, with a small share of common sense. having got hold of the line, one of the crew, separated from the rest, signals the fact to the shore by waving a hat, handkerchief, or flag, if it be day. at night a light is shown over the ship's side for a short time, and then concealed. this being done, those on shore make the end of the line fast to the _whip_ with its "tailed-block" and signal to haul off the line. when the whip is got on board, a _tally_, or piece of wood, is seen with white letters on a black ground painted on it. on one side the words are english--on the other french. one of the crew reads eagerly:-"make the tail of the block fast to the lower mast well up. if masts are gone, then to the best place you can find. cast off the rocket-line; see that the rope in the block runs free, and show signal to the shore." most important cautions these, for if the tail-block be fastened too low on the wreck, the ropes will dip in the water, and perhaps foul the rocks. if the whip does not run free in the block it will jamb and the work will be stopped; and, if the signals are not attended to, the coastguardsmen may begin to act too soon, or, on the other hand, waste precious time. but the signals are rightly given; the other points attended to, and the remainder of the work is done chiefly from the shore. the men there, attach the hawser to the whip, and by hauling one side thereof in, they run the other side and the hawser out. on receiving the hawser the crew discover another _tally_ attached to it, and read:-"make this hawser fast about two feet above the tail-block. see all clear, and that the rope in the block runs free, and show signal to the shore." the wrecked crew are quick as well as intelligent. life depends on it! they fasten the end of the hawser, as directed, about two feet _above_ the place where the tail-block is fixed to the stump of the mast. there is much shouting and gratuitous advice, no doubt, from the forward and the excited, but the captain and mate are cool. they attend to duty and pay no regard to any one. signal is again made to the shore, and the men of the coastguard at once set up a triangle with a pendent block, through which the shore-end of the hawser is rove, and attached to a double-block tackle. previously, however, a block called a "traveller" has been run on to the hawser. this block travels on and _above_ the hawser, and from it is suspended the lifebuoy. to the "traveller" block the whip is attached; then the order is given to the men to haul, and away goes the lifebuoy to the wreck, run out by the _men on shore_. when it arrives at the wreck the order is, "women first." but the women are too terrified, it may be, to venture. can you wonder? if you saw the boiling surf the heaving water, the roaring and rushing waves, with black and jagged rocks showing here and there, over which, and partly through which, they are to be dragged, you would respect their fears. they shrink back: they even resist. so the captain orders a 'prentice boy to jump in and set them the example. he is a fine, handsome boy, with curly brown hair and bright black eyes. he, too, hesitates for a moment, but from a far different motive. if left to himself he would emulate the captain in being that proverbial "last man to quit the wreck," but a peremptory order is given, and, with a blush, he jumps into the bag, or breeches, of the buoy, through which his legs project in a somewhat ridiculous manner. a signal is then made to the shore. the coastguardsmen haul on the whip, and off goes our 'prentice boy like a seagull. his flight is pretty rapid, considering all things. when about half-way to land he is seen dimly in the mist of spray that bursts wildly around and over him. those on the wreck strain their eyes and watch with palpitating hearts. the ship has been rolling a little. just then it gives a heavy lurch shoreward, the rope slackens, and down goes our 'prentice boy into the raging sea, which seems to roar louder as if in triumph! it is but for a moment, however. the double-block tackle, already mentioned as being attached to the shore-end of the hawser, is manned by strong active fellows, whose duty it is to ease off the rope when the wreck rolls seaward, and haul it in when she rolls shoreward, thus keeping it always pretty taut without the risk of snapping it. a moment more and the 'prentice is seen to emerge from the surf like a true son of neptune; he is seen also, like a true son of britain, to wave one hand above his head, and faintly, through driving surf and howling gale, comes a cheer. it is still more faintly replied to by those on the wreck, for in his progress the boy is hidden for a few seconds by the leaping spray; but in a few seconds more he is seen struggling among the breakers on the beach. several strong men are seen to join hands and advance to meet him. another moment, and he is safe on shore, and a fervent "thank god!" bursts from the wrecked crew, who seem to forget themselves for a moment as they observe the waving handkerchiefs and hats which tell that a hearty cheer has greeted the rescued sailor boy. there is little tendency now to hesitation on the part of the women, and what remains is put to flight by certain ominous groans and creakings, that tell of the approaching dissolution of the ship. one after another they are lifted tenderly into the lifebuoy, and drawn to land in safety, amid the congratulations and thanksgivings of many of those who have assembled to witness their deliverance. it is truly terrible work, this dragging of tender women through surf and thundering waves; but it is a matter of life or death, and even the most delicate of human beings become regardless of small matters in such circumstances. but the crew have yet to be saved, and there are still two women on board--one of them with a baby! the mother--a thin, delicate woman-positively refuses to go without her babe. the captain knows full well that, if he lets her take it, the child will be torn from her grasp to a certainty; he therefore adopts a seemingly harsh, but really merciful, course. he assists her into the buoy, takes a quick turn of a rope round her to keep her in, snatches the child from her arms, and gives the signal to haul away. with a terrible cry the mother holds out her arms as she is dragged from the bulwarks, then struggles to leap out, but in vain. another wild shriek, with the arms tossed upwards, and she falls back as if in a fit. "poor thing!" mutters the captain, as he gazes pitifully at the retreating figure; "but you'll soon be happy again. come, dick, get ready to go wi' the child next trip." dick shales is a huge hairy seaman, with the frame of an elephant, the skin of a walrus, and the tender heart of a woman! he glances uneasily round. "there's another lady yet, sir." "you obey orders," says the captain, sternly. "i never disobeyed orders yet, sir, and i won't do it now," says dick, taking the baby into his strong arms and buttoning it up tenderly in his capacious bosom. as he speaks, the lifebuoy arrives again with a jovial sort of swing, as if it had been actually warmed into life by its glorious work, and had come out of its own accord. "now, then, lads; hold on steady!" says dick, getting in, "for fear you hurt the babby. this is the first time that dick shales has appeared on any stage wotsomediver in the character of a woman!" dick smiles in a deprecating manner at his little joke as they haul him off the wreck. but dick is wrong, and his mates feel this as they cheer him, for many a time before that had he appeared in woman's character when woman's work had to be done. the captain was right when he muttered that the mother would be "soon happy again." when dick placed the baby--wet, indeed, but well--in its mother's arms, she knew a kind of joy to which she had been a stranger before--akin to that joy which must have swelled the grateful heart of the widow of nain when she received her son back from the dead. the rest of the work is soon completed. after the last woman is drawn ashore the crew are quickly rescued--the captain, of course, like every true captain, last of all. thus the battle is waged and won, and nothing is left but a shattered wreck for wind and waves to do their worst upon. the rescued ones are hurried off to the nearest inn, where sympathetic christian hearts and hands minister to their necessities. these are directed by the local agent for that admirable institution, the shipwrecked fishermen's and mariners' society--a society which cannot be too highly commended, and which, it is well to add, is supported by voluntary subscriptions. meanwhile the gallant men of the coastguard, rejoicing in the feeling that they have done their duty so well and so successfully, though wet and weary from long exposure and exertion, pack the rocket apparatus into its cart, run it back to its place of shelter, to be there made ready for the next call to action, and then saunter home, perchance to tell their wives and little ones the story of the wreck and rescue, before lying down to take much-needed and well-earned repose. let me say in conclusion that hundreds of lives are saved in this manner _every_ year. it is well that the reader should bear in remembrance what i stated at the outset, that the great war is unceasing. year by year it is waged. there is no prolonged period of rest. there is no time when we should forget this great work; but there are times when we should call it specially to remembrance, and bear it upon our hearts before him whom the wind and sea obey. when the wild storms of winter and spring are howling; when the frost is keen and the gales are laden with snowdrift; when the nights are dark and long, and the days are short and grey--then it is that our prayers should ascend and our hands be opened, for then it is that hundreds of human beings are in deadly peril on our shores, and then it is that our gallant lifeboat and rocket-men are risking life and limb while fighting their furious battles with the sea. the end. available by internet archive (https://archive.org) note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 45157-h.htm or 45157-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45157/45157-h/45157-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.org/files/45157/45157-h.zip) images of the original pages are available through internet archive. see https://archive.org/details/reminiscencesofl00forwuoft reminiscences of a liverpool shipowner 1850-1920 by sir william b. forwood, k.b.e., d.l. author of "recollections of a busy life": "economics of war finance": etc. illustrated with 22 plates liverpool henry young & sons, limited mcmxx. [illustration: the port of liverpool--1873 _from the picture by s. walters_] preface the following sketches were contributed to the liverpool press (_liverpool daily post_, _liverpool courier_, _journal of commerce_), and they are now published at the request of many friends. advantage has been taken of the opportunity for revision, and to add further reminiscences. a chapter has also been added descriptive of the part played by the british merchant seaman in the war; and another, published in 1917, portraying the attitude and work of the british shipowner during the war. to do adequate justice to the history of our shipping during the past sixty years would occupy several volumes. in the following pages all that has been attempted has been to outline the principal events in the fewest possible words, in the hope that they may serve for future reference; and also keep alive that interest in our mercantile fleet which is so essential to the prosperity of our country and the welfare of our people. bromborough hall, cheshire, _august, 1920_. contents chapter i page the passing of the sailing-ship 1 chapter ii the era of the steamship 15 chapter iii the evolution of the marine engine 24 chapter iv the makers of our shipping trade 29 chapter v our merchant ships and the war 55 chapter vi shipping and the war 69 chapter vii the "red jacket," 1857 87 chapter viii the "queen of the avon," 1858 94 chapter ix the "great eastern," 1861 99 chapter x the building of an east indiaman 106 chapter xi our riddle of the sands 113 list of illustrations 1--the port of liverpool, 1873 _frontispiece._ 2--the sailing-ship "princess charlotte" _facing page_ 8 3--the ss. "savannah" " " 16 4--the ss. "great western" " " 18 5--the ss. "president" " " 20 6--the ss. "britannia" " " 22 7--the ss. "great britain" " " 24 8--the ss. "scotia" " " 26 9--portraits--charles maciver, william inman, thomas h. ismay, sir edward harland " " 30 10--the ss. "oregon" " " 34 11--the ss. "umbria" " " 38 12--the ss. "oceanic," no. 1 " " 42 13--the ss. "nile" " " 44 14--portraits--sir thomas brocklebank, w. miles moss, f. r. leyland, sir alfred jones " " 46 15--the sailing-ship "aracan" " " 50 16--the ss. "aquitania," with convoy " " 56 17--the ss. "oceanic," no. 2 " " 60 18--the ss. "mauretania" " " 66 19--the ss. "olympic" " " 70 20--the sailing-ship "red jacket" " " 88 21--the ss. "great eastern" " " 100 22--the ss. "aquitania" " " 114 reminiscences of a liverpool shipowner chapter i the passing of the sailing-ship the old sailing-ship, with all the romance which surrounds it, must long linger in the affectionate regard of all british people as the creator of our great overseas trade and the builder-up of our commercial prosperity. the sailing-ship was the mistress of the seas for centuries. she founded our maritime supremacy, was the conveyor of the first fruits of our manufacturing industry to the ends of the world, and enabled us to train a race of sailors unequalled for their skill, courage, and patriotism, who in times of national peril have protected our homes and safeguarded the freedom of the world. liverpool owes her greatness as a city and her position as the first port in the world to her shipping. possessing the only deep-water haven on the west coast, she naturally became the port of shipment for the manufactures of lancashire and yorkshire directly our export trade began to develop. the beginnings of the shipping trade were small, for in 1751 there were only 220 vessels belonging to the port. the opening up of the american trade in 1756 gave a great impetus to shipping. it was destined, however, to receive a serious check by the world-wide war which started in 1756, and was waged almost continuously for sixty years. the first of this long series of wars known as the seven years' war (1756-1761) was followed by twelve years of peace, and it was during this time that our trade with america made its greatest headway. the war of independence with america, which broke out in 1773, proved most disastrous to liverpool. it paralysed our trade and there was dire distress in the town. it is recorded: "our docks are a mournful sight, full of gallant ships laid up and useless." this unhappy war lasted seven years. but perhaps the most terrible period for our shipping was in 1810, when america, feeling herself "crushed between the upper and the nether millstone of napoleon's mastery on land and england's supremacy by sea," declared war and threw her strength into privateering. the result to the trade of liverpool was most disastrous. the number of ships entering the port fell from 6,729 in 1810 to 4,599 in 1812. when, in 1815, peace was again brought about, there was a most rapid recovery in business in every direction. our british arms which had been victorious in the great war on the continent of europe had also made our country supreme at sea; foreign shipping had almost disappeared, and our shipping trade reaped an enormous advantage, our tonnage rapidly increasing. the period from 1815-1860 may be termed the halcyon days of the british ship, and the period from 1850-1880 witnessed the "passing" of the sailing-ship. with the "passing" of the sailing-ship we have lost many interesting and attractive features. the attitude of the shipowner has entirely changed. his quiet, leisurely occupation has gone, and with it much that was picturesque and gave pleasure and enjoyment. with the advent of the steamer a new era opened up, characterised by the hustle of increased activity. speed is the criterion aimed at, calling for constant and strenuous work. the shipowner of the olden days had time to take a deep personal interest in the upkeep of his ship. he strolled down from his office almost daily to the dock where she was lying. of the sixty-four sixty-fourth shares into which the ownership was divided he probably owned at least one-half; this gave him a very real concern in his ship's welfare. he watched and supervised her construction with the same solicitude as he would the building of his own house. and when completed and she took up her loading berth in the prince's or salthouse dock, all fresh painted, the rigging tarred down, the ratlines all taut and evenly spaced, every rope and hawser carefully coiled down and in its place, it was excusable if the owner viewed his ship with some pride. a large poster displayed in the ship's rigging announced the port for which she was taking cargo and the date of sailing--a date which was never kept. she remained in dock week after week while her cargo gradually trickled down. this long delay involved a loss of interest and earning power, and also a serious loss of interest to the owners of cargo shipped by her. mr. donald currie, when he left the cunard company, made up an ownery for five or six ships for the calcutta trade, and was anxious that jardine, skilmer & co., of calcutta, should take the agency at that port. but they had suffered so much from the delay of their cargoes that they made it a condition of their acceptance that mr. currie should strictly adhere to his advertised dates of sailing; and certainly he had no cause to regret it, for practically jardines loaded his ships with their own goods, and mr. currie's fleet rapidly increased. this was the beginning of fixed days of sailing from liverpool, which are now almost universal. although the pleasure of a shipowner was more personal and greater in the days gone by, it was accompanied by much anxiety, and the risks were greater than those of to-day. a wooden ship was liable to decay, and the periodical surveys by lloyd's were times of much concern. they might expose some defect which might involve the stripping and rebuilding of the part affected. the highest class at lloyd's a1 for thirteen years, soon ran out, and the continuation of the class always involved many repairs. the preparation of a captain's instructions prior to the commencement of a voyage entailed much thought; every contingency had to be provided for; there were no "cables" by which subsequent instructions could be sent, or the owner consulted. cargoes at the loading ports were uncertain, and the change of ports in ballast had to be provided for. the most carefully-worded instructions often failed to provide for the very contingency which happened, or more frequently the captain did some stupid thing. the owner was in dread lest his ship should find no homeward cargo and have to shift ports, or lest she be damaged or dismasted, and put into some remote port not contemplated in his instructions. he had visions of heavy repair bills and bottomry bonds. sailing-ship owning was profitable to those who possessed high-class ships, but i cannot recall many fortunes made out of soft wood ships, the cost of their maintenance and repair being so heavy. in a brief résumé of the history of the sailing-vessel it is not necessary to pass in review the early steps taken in the evolution of a ship, for shipowning did not assume a position of any importance before the year 1600, when, during the reign of queen elizabeth, the east india company was founded. the east india company's first ships were vessels of from 300 tons to 600 tons. they were all heavily armed, and only conveyed the cargoes belonging to the company. the "john" company was highly successful, and at the close of the eighteenth century had not only a large fleet of ships, but also possessed a large portion of the continent of india. the ships of the company were remarkable vessels; they were frigate built, large carriers, and stately looking, but badly designed, very slow, required a large quantity of ballast, and their cost was about £40 per ton. improvement in design and equipment was very slow; there existed no incentive to improvement; the profit made was derived mainly from the cargoes they carried; and it has been said that the improvements made in british shipping from the reign of queen elizabeth to the victorian era were so gradual as to be perceptible only when measured by centuries. when we speak of the ships of the sixteenth, seventeenth, and eighteenth centuries, we cannot but be surprised to find how slight were the improvements made during these three hundred years. during the latter half of the eighteenth century the finest ships were constructed in france, and at that period the best ships in the british navy were those captured from the french. the treaty of peace between the united states of america and great britain, signed in 1814, marks the beginning of a new era in the history of shipping. the progress, however, for some years was slow; design and construction were hindered by our obsolete tonnage laws, which encouraged the building of a very undesirable type of ship. meanwhile america was going ahead. not only did she produce more ships, but they were well designed and equipped, and it was the general opinion that the american ship was superior to the british ship. when, in 1832, the monopoly of the east india company came to an end, and the commerce of the orient was thrown open to all british ships, there was at once an effort made to establish british shipping on a broader and more substantial basis. the opening of the china and east india trades gave rise to that competition which had been so long dormant, and without which there can be little incentive to improvement. the american trade gave the first and great impetus to shipowning in liverpool. the famous new york packets, the pioneer black ball line, were established in 1816. this line consisted at first of vessels of from 300 to 500 tons register. these little ships with their full bodies and bluff bows made wonderful passages, averaging 23 days outwards and 43 days homewards. they were for many years the only means of communication between this country and the united states. the "dramatic" line was started in 1836, with vessels of about 700 tons, and it is noteworthy that the "sheridan," of 895 tons, built the following year for this line, was found to be too large for the liverpool trade; but the trade rapidly grew and the packet ships gradually increased in tonnage. in 1846 the "new world" was built, of 1,400 tons. as a child i recollect being taken down to the dock to see this ship, as being the largest sailing-ship in the world; and many still living will remember the "isaac webb," the "albert gallatin," the "guy mannering," and the "dreadnought." the ships of the "black ball" line and the "dramatic" line were grand ships, and made many wonderful passages. there are three outstanding events which greatly contributed to the improvement of british shipping, and may be said to mark the beginning of our great maritime position--the establishment, in 1834, of lloyd's register; the founding, in 1846, of the marine department of the board of trade; and, in 1849, repeal of the navigation laws. these laws, devised originally for the protection of british shipping, and to secure for it a certain monopoly of the carrying trade, had become antiquated, and a hindrance to its development. it was not, however, until we found the commerce of the world was largely being carried by american ships, which were faster and better built, that an agitation was started to abolish those laws. [illustration: "princess charlotte," 1815] there was considerable opposition to their repeal, and the first result was not encouraging; there was a decrease in the tonnage of british ships entering our ports, and a large increase in foreign tonnage, especially of american; and although this created a feeling of despondency, and gave rise to the fear that we had lost for ever our premier position in the overseas carrying trade, it really proved a great stimulus to enterprise, and renewed exertion, and not many years elapsed before we had regained, and more than regained, our position in the shipping world. to america belongs the credit of introducing the clipper ship, which was specially designed to make rapid passages. the discovery of gold in california created a great rush, and there was a gigantic movement of human beings by land and by sea. the land journey across america was long and hazardous, and this gave rise to a large emigration by sea, and the necessity for providing a class of ship which would be able to make rapid passages. this the old-fashioned frigate-built ship was unable to do. the era of the clipper ship may be said to date from 1848, when gold was first discovered in california. the building of these ships in america proceeded rapidly, and in four years one hundred and sixty were built. they were the swiftest ships the world had ever seen, making the voyage from new york to san francisco in from 100 to 120 days. they were remarkable for their fine lines, lofty spars, and great sail-carrying capacity. the discovery of gold in california in 1848 was quickly followed by the discovery of gold in australia in 1851, and a rush of emigration immediately set in, which had to be carried by sailing-ships. the regular traders were small vessels with very limited passenger accommodation; so shipowners very quickly turned their attention to the clipper ships built in new england and in new brunswick, which had been so successful in the californian trade. the first clipper ship constructed for the australian trade was the "marco polo," of 1,622 tons. she was built in 1851, at st. john's, for james baines & co., of liverpool, and she was the pioneer of the famous australian black ball line. the "marco polo" was a handsome ship, built with a considerable rise of floor and a very fine after end, and carrying a large spread of canvas. she made some remarkable passages under the command of captain forbes, who did not hesitate to shorten the distance his ship had to travel by sailing on the great circle, and going very far south. the "marco polo" may be said to have set the pace in the australian trade. she was quickly followed by such renowned ships as the "lightning," the "james baines," the "sovereign of the seas," and the passages of these ships created as much public interest as those of our atlantic greyhounds do to-day. we had also the white star line of australian clippers, which owned the "red jacket," the "blue jacket," and the "chariot of fame." the "red jacket" made the record passage of 64 days to melbourne, and was one of the most famous of the american built clippers. although america can claim to have introduced the clipper ship, our english shipbuilders were not much behindhand. the tea trade with china offered great rewards for speed, and the ship landing the first cargo of the new teas earned a very handsome premium. the competition was, therefore, very keen. these tea clippers were very beautiful vessels of about 800 to 1,000 tons, of quite an original type; and, unlike the american clipper, they relied for their speed more upon the symmetry of their lines than upon their large sail area. they had less beam and less freeboard than the american clipper, and as their voyages necessitated a good deal of windward work, this was made their strong point of sailing, and probably they will never be excelled in this. the names of the "falcon," the "fiery cross," the "lord of the isles," will still dwell in the memory of many. in 1865 a memorable race took place between ten celebrated tea clippers, and the evenness of their performances was remarkable. the times of the passages of the first five, from the anchorage in china to deal, varied from 99 to 101 days, and the prize, 10s per ton, was divided between the "taeping" and the "ariel"--the one arriving first at deal, and the other being the first to dock in london. there were similar races every year, which always aroused great interest. the greatest development in sailing-ships was brought about by the substitution of iron for wood in their construction. the iron ship, among other advantages, could be of larger size, was more durable, and less costly in maintenance; and in 1863 a notable further improvement was made when, in the liverpool ship "seaforth," steel lower masts, topmasts, and topsail yards, and also standing rigging of steel wire were introduced, and about the same time double topsail yards were adopted. we are apt to make light of the great increase in american shipping since the late war, and think that the competition of america will not last and will not be serious. we should, however, not forget how large a proportion of the world's carrying trade by sea was done by america prior to her civil war in 1863, and the excellence of her ships. the tariffs she imposed after this war killed her shipping and made shipbuilding, except for her coastwise trade, impossible. the result of the late war has been to make the cost of shipbuilding nearly as great in this country as in america, and she will certainly make a serious bid for her share of the trade. with the passing of the old sailing-ship we have lost much that was picturesque and much that appealed to sentiment. the river mersey at the top of high water filled with sailing craft of all kinds, from the great australian clipper down to the dutch galliot or the british sloop with her brown sails, presented a panorama which has no equal to-day, and called forth thoughts of adventure and perils by the sea which a great atlantic liner or even the modest coasting steamer fail to suggest, although they may speak to us in the spirit of the times--of that security and speed which has brought the very ends of the earth together. this short sketch of the old sailing-ship days would be incomplete without alluding to the position of the sailor, which was far from satisfactory. his life was hard and very rough. he usually lived in the forecastle, which was close and damp. the chain cables passed through it to the chain lockers below, the hawse-pipes had often ill-fitting wooden plugs, and when the ship plunged into a head sea the forecastle was flooded. there was no place for the men to dry their clothes, and no privacy. their food was salt tack, and it was no wonder that they enjoyed their noggin of rum. these were, however, days before we had the luxury of preserved provisions or ice-houses. but the old british tar came of a hardy, good humoured race. i have seen them when off cape horn take marling-spikes aloft to knock the ice off the topsail, and merrily singing one of their chanties while they tied in a close reef. the pay of a sailor was small--£3 a month for an a.b.; and when they returned home from a voyage they were pounced upon by the boarding-house keepers, who did not let them out of their clutches while they had any money left. the neighbourhood of our sailors' home was a perfect hell, a scene of debauchery from morn to night. the sailor had no chance, and when he sailed again he had no money to buy any decent or warm clothes. thanks to such philanthropists as the late samuel smith, alexander balfour, and monsignor nugent, this reproach to liverpool was, after a great and long fight, removed, and the interests of the sailor are to-day safeguarded in every way by the board of trade, and greater interest is exhibited in his welfare by the shipowner. while thus recording the conditions of a seaman's life we must not forget that the conditions of life generally were much harder and rougher than those of to-day, and the sailor had many compensating advantages when at sea. it was while he was in port that he required safeguarding. chapter ii the era of the steamship with the "passing" of the sailing-ship much of the poetry and romance of the sea disappeared. the era of the steamship is more prosaic, but it brought with it a recognition of the spirit of the times that the expanding trade of the world and the march of civilisation, demanded speed and regularity in our sea services for their development, and what we have lost in romance we have more than made good by the wider distribution of the world's products which the facilities for travel and the rapid conveyance of our merchandise have made available. all parts of the world have been brought within easy reach of the traveller, and our trade routes have been increased and expanded. we have opened up new markets for our exports, and new sources for the supply of food. our people are now largely fed by supplies of perishable food which reach us from the far distant antipodes. it is, indeed, difficult to say what might have happened if we were still dependent upon the old sailing-ship. the advent of the steamship was most fortuitous. just as in our means of conveyance by land, new means and forms of transport have been developed with our increasing population, so it would appear that, as the growth of our population and the spread of civilisation have demanded it, improved facilities for travel by sea have been opened up. the passing of the sailing-ship made very slow progress in the beginning, for although steamers entered the atlantic and the east india trades about 1840, the old-fashioned wooden paddle steamer was not a serious competitor except in the conveyance of passengers and mails. it took thirty or forty years to develop improvements in the design of steamers and to effect the evolution of the marine engine, and the progress made was gradual. the high-pressure engine, the compound engine, the turbine, and now the geared turbine were all steps in the direction of securing the economy and efficiency necessary to make the steamer an effective competitor in the conveyance of heavy or bulky cargoes; but once this point was reached, the sailing-vessel was doomed except in the small coasting trades. the opening of the suez canal also gave the steamer a great advantage, and perhaps did more than anything else to destroy the position of the sailing-ship in the long trades. it will be interesting to watch the effect which dear coals and cost of sailing may have in reviving the fortunes of the sailing-ship. [illustration: ss. "savannah," 1818] steamers are now mostly owned by public companies, which we regret to say are largely centred in london, and are represented in liverpool by managers. a steamer somehow fails to arouse the same enthusiasm as the old sailing-ship; much of the old romance and sentiment has gone. the managers have so many steamers to look after that their work becomes more or less mechanical; they cannot take the same personal interest in them. the manager of one large fleet boasted that he never went down to the dock to see his steamers--this he considered was the business of his marine superintendent. the shareholders in a limited liability company in the same way have not the same close touch with their property that the owner of a sixty-fourth share had in the old sailing-ship. the one was personal, the other is remote. the subscription lists of our nautical charities prove this. the bluecoat school and the seamen's orphanage do not appeal to them as they appealed to the bryan blundells, the macivers, the brocklebanks, allans, beazleys, and ismays and the general public of fifty years ago. we cannot dwell upon the many early efforts to apply the steam engine to the propulsion of a ship. the first steam vessel to cross the atlantic was the "savannah," a vessel 130 feet in length and 26 feet broad. she was built in new york in 1818; she was an auxiliary vessel, her paddle wheels being taken off and placed on deck when the wind was fair. she sailed from savannah on the 24th may, 1819, and arrived at liverpool on the 20th june. the first vessel to steam all the way across the atlantic was the "royal william," built at quebec in 1831. she was 830 tons, with side-lever engines of 200 horse power. she sailed from quebec to london on the 4th of august, 1833, and after a stormy passage arrived in the thames on the 11th september. a more serious attempt to bridge the atlantic was made in june, 1838, when a second "royal william" of 720 tons was built at liverpool, and her paddle engines of 400 horse power were made by fawcett, preston & co., of liverpool. she made several successful passages, and was our first passenger steamer. the transatlantic steamship company, which had chartered the "royal william" afterwards built the "liverpool," of 1,150 tons, and 464 horse power. she made several voyages, averaging 17 days out and 15 days home. mr. maginnis in his very useful and excellent work "the atlantic ferry," claims for the "sirius" the honour of inaugurating the atlantic steamship service. she was owned by the british & american steam navigation company, of which mr. john laird was the chairman. she was 703 tons, and sailed on the 5th april, 1838, making the passage in 16½ days, maintaining an average of 8½ knots, on a consumption of 24 tons. about the same time the "great western," of 1,340 tons, sailed from bristol, making the outward passage in 13½ days. [illustration: ss. "great western," 1838] the british & american steamship company encouraged by the successful voyage made by the "sirius," built, in 1839, two sister ships, the "british queen" and the "president." they were 1,863 tons gross register, and 700 horse power. the "british queen" sailed from portsmouth, july 12th, 1840, and the "president" on july 17th, 1840. the "president," after sailing from new york, on march 11th, 1841, with a small number of passengers, was never again heard of, and in consequence of this disaster the british & american steamship company ceased to exist. we cannot omit from our brief review of the early history of the steamship, an allusion to the "great britain," the first large iron steamer. she was 3,270 tons, and was launched at bristol in 1843. for very many years she was our largest ship, and considered to be one of the wonders of the day. she was placed in the liverpool and new york trade, and sailed on the 26th july, 1845, on her first voyage. i remember seeing her pass down the channel off seaforth. her six masts greatly impressed my child intelligence. she was wrecked the same night on the irish coast, but she was afterwards got off, and had a very varied and chequered career, and underwent many changes. her six masts were reduced to four, then to three. she had new engines, and was placed by gibbs, bright & co., in the australian trade. then she was converted into a full rigged sailing-ship, and in 1883 was condemned at the falkland islands as no longer seaworthy, and remained there for many years as a coal hulk. it cannot be said that these early endeavours to establish a steamship trade were very encouraging, and the great scientist of that day, dr. lardner, stated that he had no hesitation in saying that the project announced in the newspapers of making a voyage directly from new york to liverpool was perfectly chimerical. they might as well talk of making a voyage from new york to the moon. all the more honour to those pioneers who had the courage and the prescience to go ahead; and to mr. samuel cunard and his partners the steamship trade must be for ever deeply indebted, for to them we owe the first serious and successful effort to establish a steamship service across the atlantic. they built, in 1840, the "britannia," "acadia," "columbia," and "caledonia,"--the first ships of the now celebrated cunard line. the inman line was founded in 1850, the guion line in 1866, and the white star line, which now shares the great atlantic trade with the cunard company, was established in 1870. [illustration: ss. "president," 1840] the evolution from sail to steam involved changes in the design of the hull of a ship. at first it was considered that to turn a sailing-ship into a steamer it was simply necessary to fit a hull designed for a sailing-vessel with a steam engine. it was soon, however, discovered that the fine lines and deep keel required to carry sail were not required in a steamship, and in course of time full-bodied hulls with square bilges without keels were adopted. an iron steamer is but a rectangular girder or tank with the ends sharpened, the co-efficient of fineness varying from 62 to 78 degrees, according to the speed or deadweight capacity required. in 1860 sir edward harland, with a view to easy propulsion, introduced steamers into the mediterranean trade with a length of ten times their beam. these were so successful that when he built the fleet for the white star line he carried out the same principle, thereby also securing steady sea boats. he also introduced central passenger saloons and cabins, which speedily made the white star ships very popular. cabin accommodation placed in the centre of the ship has now become general. some further modifications in design have taken place; ships have, relatively, now less length and more beam, and the cabin accommodation is built up citadel fashion in the middle of the ship. the most notable evolution has, however, been in size and speed. the "britannia," built in 1840, was 1,200 tons, with 8½ knots speed. she was followed by the "great britain," in 1843, 3,270 tons; she was, however, too large for the times, and did no good. the "great eastern," built in 1855, was of 18,915 tons, and 12 knots speed, and was also a failure, although if she had been given sufficient power she would probably have hastened the era of large and fast vessels. the demand for speed was for some years the governing feature in the design of steamers in the atlantic trade, and to a smaller extent in the eastern trades, in which the carrying of coal for long voyages has also to be considered. the increase in power required to obtain high speeds necessitated the adoption of twin screws, and with the still higher powers required by the "mauretania," "olympic," etc. (60,000 h.p.), four propellers are found necessary. in the atlantic trade, the "arizona," built by john elder & co. for the guion line, was the first of the "atlantic greyhounds." she was quickly followed by the "alaska" and the "oregon," the latter being built in 1882, with a speed of 19 knots. she was the fastest ship of her time, and became the property of the cunard company. she was again eclipsed by the cunard ships "umbria" and "etruria," in 1885, with a speed of 19½ knots. in 1888 the "city of paris" and "city of new york" had attained a speed exceeding 20 knots. for some years no improvement in speed was obtained until the advent of the "campania" and "lucania," in 1893, with a tonnage of 12,900 and a speed of 22 knots. [illustration: ss. "britannia," 1840] although steamers thus gradually increased in size and power, the "oceanic," built in 1899 for the white star line, may, i think, claim to be the pioneer of the great atlantic liners. she was 16,900 tons and 704 feet long, and 21 knots speed. she was quickly followed by the "lusitania" and "mauretania," built for the cunard in 1907, with a tonnage of 33,000, and a speed of 24½ knots. they were again eclipsed in size by the "olympic," "aquitania," and the "imperator," all about 50,000 tons; but the "mauretania" still holds the blue riband of the atlantic for speed. it is scarcely safe to say that the last big ship has been built; size is only limited by commercial considerations and the depth of water available in our harbours, as an iron ship, being a girder, her length is limited by the depth which can be given to the girder. the cost of construction may, however, limit the size of ships, at all events, for some years. chapter iii the evolution of the marine engine the steamship as a practical proposition developed slowly, being retarded by the dilatory evolution of the marine engine. the first serious effort to apply steam power to vessels of any size dates back to only 1838-1840, years which witnessed the establishment of the royal mail, the peninsular and oriental, and the cunard steamship companies. their first vessels were steamers of 1,200 tons, having a speed of eight or nine knots. such vessels were not formidable competitors of the old packet ships, except in the passenger trades; their average passage across the atlantic, occupying from thirteen to seventeen days, not being a great improvement upon the passages of the sailing-packets. the ships of the dramatic line averaged 20½ days, and those of the black ball line 21 days. [illustration: ss. "great britain," launched 1843] the advantage of the greater regularity in the passages of the steamer was, however, obvious, and greatly stimulated invention. the improvements in the paddle engine were slow. we were a long time getting away from the side-lever engine, working at a low pressure. the "britannia," built in 1840, was 1,200 tons; her engines indicated 740 horse-power, giving a speed of 8½ knots. the "scotia," the finest paddle steamer ever built, and the last of the great paddle boats, was built in 1860, and had the same type of side-lever engine, but her tonnage was 3,871, with an indicated horse-power of 4,800, giving her a speed of 13 knots. the most rapid passage made by the "britannia" was 14 days 8 hours; the most rapid made by the "scotia" was 8 days 15 hours. the screw propeller was invented in 1836, but for a long time it was thought to be inferior to the paddle as a means of propulsion, and there was some difficulty in applying the power to the screw shaft. the side lever in various forms was tried, but proved a failure. the "great britain," 3,270 tons, launched in 1843, had engines which worked upward on to a crank shaft, and the power was brought down by endless chains to the screw shaft. this did not prove satisfactory. then we had oscillating engines working a large geared wheel fitted with wooden teeth to increase the revolutions of the propeller. then came the direct-acting engines with inverted cylinders, which for years were almost the universal type of engine, and were a very efficient form of low pressure engine. the compound engine revolutionised the steamship trade, ensuring such economy of fuel as to permit of long voyages being successfully undertaken. the compound engine developed into the triple expansion engine; the object being to get the last ounce of power out of the steam by first using it in a high pressure cylinder at 180 lbs., then passing it into a larger cylinder, using it expansively, and finally passing it into a still larger cylinder at about 8 lbs. pressure, and again allowing it to expand. the triple expansion engine came into general use in 1886. the turbine, invented by sir charles parsons in 1897, has effected a revolution in the engines of large size. the principle is simply to allow steam at a high pressure to impinge upon blades fitted to a rotor which it revolves on the principle of the syren. the steam is afterwards used expansively in a second rotor working directly upon the screw shaft. the advantage of a turbine engine is its simplicity--few working parts and a saving in weight and space; its disadvantage is that a separate turbine has to be employed to obtain sternway. recently, geared turbines have been introduced which are lighter, slightly more economical in fuel, and are sweeter running machines. it is noteworthy that whereas gears were necessary in olden times with engines working at a low pressure to speed up the propeller shaft, with turbines gears are used to reduce the revolutions. [illustration: ss. "scotia," 1860] meantime, greater boiler efficiency was being obtained. the "britannia" worked with a pressure of 12 lbs. this was gradually increased to 30 lbs. in boilers constructed in 1868, and this was practically the range of pressure during the period of single-expansion engines. the salt water used in these boilers caused them to become quickly salted up, which not only diminished their efficiency but shortened their lives, and it was not until the compound engine was invented by john elder that cylindrical boilers, working at a pressure starting at 60 lbs. and increasing to 190 lbs., were introduced. these proved a great success. by the use of fresh feed water and replenishing it from the condensers, salting was prevented and the life of a boiler greatly increased. no further great improvement in the boiler has taken place. the water-tube boiler is still in an experimental stage, and attention is now being directed to oil fuel, which will reduce the engine-room staff, ensure greater cleanliness and quicker despatch. the result of these improvements in marine engines and boilers has been to reduce the consumption of coal from 4 lbs. per indicated horse-power to 1.4 lbs., which cannot be considered otherwise than a great achievement. the future high cost of coal is sure to stimulate invention, and we may at no distant date expect developments in internal combustion engines adapting them to high powers which may open up a new and great era for mechanically-propelled vessels, and again entirely change the world's outlook. we have also always before us the probability of further discoveries in electricity; the recent developments in wireless telegraphy teach us that we are only on the threshold of discoveries which will bring this mighty but mysterious power more and more into the service of man. chapter iv the makers of our shipping trade these sketches of the growth and development of our shipping trade would be incomplete without some reference to those who built up its great prosperity--men who are entitled not merely to our consideration but to our admiration; men whose memories should be treasured by liverpool people, because they afford to generations yet to come examples of industry and perseverance in the face of difficulties which should not be without beneficial effect if kept in remembrance. things move so rapidly, and our memory is so limited that we are apt to view the things of to-day as of our own creation, and lose sight of the strenuous spade work done by our forefathers. much as we must appreciate the enterprise and ability of our shipowners of to-day, it is no disparagement of them when we claim that the work of those who have gone before was equally enterprising within its limits, and was even more strenuous and anxious. they had to do with a business world only just emerging from the chrysalis state, and without those helps and facilities which modern science has placed at our disposal. but while claiming this, we must avoid considering those who have passed before as "giants" of industry. they were simply the men who, when placed in circumstances of difficulty, always rise to the occasion and develop those faculties of industry, resource and imagination which are so happily characteristic of our race. that we may, therefore, appreciate the labours of those who have built up our prosperity we must consider shortly the circumstances in which they worked and the tools they had to work with. we have already alluded to the difficulties which a ship's husband had to contend with owing to the absence of "cables," or any speedy means of communication with distant places, and to the anxieties attending the maintenance of the old wooden ships; but these did not entirely disappear when iron ships were introduced. the early steamers were badly designed, very short of freeboard, insufficient in strength and short of engine power; they were frequently loaded too deeply, and we had many casualties. one of the greatest improvements in the construction of an iron ship was the introduction of iron decks, which gave the constructional strength required, and when water ballast tanks were also adopted a ship not only gained additional strength, but also mobility and seaworthiness. [illustration: charles maciver] [illustration: william inman] [illustration: thomas h. ismay] [illustration: sir edward harland] the place of the old cargo boat was in course of time taken by the so-called "tramp," the modern cargo carrier--a good wholesome ship, a large carrier, with sufficient power to take care of herself in all weathers. with modern machinery a tramp can go to the ends of the earth without replenishing her coal supply. one remarkable change has taken place which would have shocked the shipowners of fifty years ago; steamers no longer carry sails and the tendency is to do away with masts. the "standard" ship has only one mast, which is only used for signalling. the excellence of modern machinery and the general adoption of the twin screw have rendered breakdowns very rare, and the "wireless" is at hand to summon assistance when required. if the cargo steamer of to-day has improved, the design of the passenger ship has made even greater progress. those who travelled across the atlantic in the early sixties will recall the stuffy passenger saloons, placed right aft, with no seats except the long settees, and lit only by candles suspended on trays, which swayed to and fro sputtering grease right and left. the state-rooms were placed below the saloon and were lit by oil lamps, one between every two rooms. these were religiously put out at ten o'clock every night. there was no ventilation, and no hot water was obtainable. we have always thought that the introduction of the electric light was a greater boon, and more appreciated on board ship than anywhere else. on a rough, wild night, when everything in your state-room is flying about, and you begin to conjure up thoughts of possible disaster, if you switch on the electric light, all is at peace. the very waves appear to be robbed of their fury. there were no smoke-rooms in the olden days--the lee side of the funnel in fine weather, the fiddlee at other times. here, seated on coils of rope, and ready to lift our feet as the seas rolled in from the alleyways on either side, we smoked and spun our yarns. there was an abundance of food in the saloon in the shape of great huge joints of meat and dishes of vegetables, which were placed on the table, and it required some gymnastic agility to be ready to seize them, when the ship gave a lurch, to prevent their being deposited on your lap. we had no serviettes, but there came the enormous compensation for all deficiencies--it was deftly whispered, "the cunard never lost a life," and not another word was said. the conditions of life in the steerage were wretched. the sleeping berths were huddled together, necessitating the occupants climbing over each other; there was no privacy, no washing accommodation except at the common tap, no saloon or seating accommodation except on the hatchways. the food was brought round in iron buckets, and junks of beef and pork were forked out by the steward, and placed in the passenger's pannikin, and in a similar way potatoes and plum duff were served out. all this has been changed, and in place of discomfort we have luxurious accommodation for every class of traveller; and this change has been brought about by the men concerning whom we propose to make some notes. sir edward harland it is very difficult to give to any one man the credit for the great improvements which have been made, but i think ship designing owes much to the late sir edward harland, of belfast. he was the first to introduce the long ship with easy lines--easily propelled and excellent sea boats. in designing passenger ships, sir edward harland was the first to see the advantage of placing the saloon passenger accommodation in the centre of the ship (citadel fashion), thus adding greatly to the comfort of ocean travel. the modern cargo boat--the so-called "tramp," because she has no fixed trade, but vagrant-like seeks her cargoes at any likely port--owes much also to the genius of sir edward. the old-fashioned wave line theory in design, with its concave water lines and hollow sections, had produced bad sea boats and poor cargo carriers. sir edward was the first to perceive that long, easy convex water lines, with full sections, gave buoyancy at every point, were more easily propelled, and had large deadweight and measurement capacity. i think, therefore, when considering who were the makers of the shipping industry of to-day, his name must ever occupy a foremost position. we must also give credit to messrs. randolf elder & co., for the introduction of the compound engine, and to sir william pearse (who became the head of the firm) for the "atlantic greyhounds," the "arizona," followed by the "alaska" and the "oregon." these ships were the first to make speed one of the first considerations of atlantic travel. the shipbroker in the olden days we had not only shipowners but shipbrokers, who had lines of ships to various places, and who either chartered vessels or loaded them upon commission. the loading brokers made it their duty to call upon the forwarding agents every morning to ascertain what goods they had for shipment. this duty was never relegated to clerks, but was always performed by one of the principals. we have a very vivid recollection of the daily morning visits of mr. mors, mr. astley, mr. w. imrie, mr. thomas moss, mr. mcdiarmid, and others. this business of the shipbrokers eventually came to an end when regular lines of steamers were established, but they for long occupied a very influential position in the shipping world. [illustration: ss. "oregon," 1883] charles maciver the most outstanding figure among shipowners of 1850-1880 was charles maciver, of the cunard line, a man of resolute courage and stern discipline. clean shaven with aquiline features, he looked like a man born to command. i remember when i was mayor, in 1880, a commission was given to herkomer to paint his portrait. he asked me what sort of man mr. maciver was, and then proceeded to calderstones to paint his portrait. in a few days he returned, saying he was going home, as he had not found the strong man i had described. in a few months he returned and called to tell me that he had found my mr. maciver and painted him. it appears that on his first visit mr. maciver was suffering from illness. mr. maciver built up the cunard line, which in the fifties paid one-third of our liverpool dock dues. i can visualise colonel maciver marching down water street at the head of 1,000 of his men whom he had drilled and trained. this was one of the first volunteer regiments raised in 1858, when we had fears that napoleon iii intended to invade this country. many stories are told of mr. maciver's stern discipline. it is said one of his captains asked permission to take his wife to sea with him. permission was granted, but when the day of sailing arrived he received passenger tickets for himself and his wife, also an intimation that he had been superseded in command of the ship. i remember doing some small service for mr. maciver which required some promptitude in its execution. in thanking me he added, "young man, always kill your chickens when young"--and this was the principle he acted upon when threatened with opposition in any of his trades. mr. maciver was very public-spirited, and a liberal supporter of our seamen's charities. it was a rule with the old cunard line not to introduce improvements until they had been well tried, and they continued to construct wooden paddle steamers long after the iron screw steamer had proved its efficiency. it was no doubt this policy which built up the wonderful reputation the line has always enjoyed for safety. although charles maciver was the master-builder of the cunard company, he was not actually one of the founders. these were samuel cunard, george burns, and david maciver. david maciver died in 1845, and his brother charles took his place. i was staying at castle wemyss in 1890, when i received a message that sir george burns wished to see me. the old man was lying on what proved to be his deathbed. his features, which were those of a handsome, strong, and resolute man, were thrown into striking relief by the halo of long, flowing, silver-white locks, which fell on his pillow. his mind (he was then ninety-five) evidently loved to live in the distant past, and he told me with pride, not of the doings of the cunard company, with which he had been so long and so honourably associated, but of the old sailing brigs, which in the days of his youth carried the mails between this country and halifax. several of the first cunard ships were built by john wood at port glasgow. as a schoolboy i spent my summer holidays at his house. he was then building the wooden steamer "lusitania" for my father's firm. she was intended to trade between lisbon and oporto. old john wood was the father of shipbuilding on the clyde, and a brass plate inserted in the wall of messrs. duncan's shipbuilding yard at port glasgow now marks the site of his house. i treasure these links of memory with those olden days of the shipping industry; they bridge over a period of most remarkable achievement and progress. sir george burns was made a baronet by queen victoria on the occasion of her golden jubilee, and his son was raised to the peerage on her majesty's diamond jubilee under the title of lord inverclyde. lord inverclyde took a very warm interest in shipping matters; he was a keen yachtsman, and dispensed at castle wemyss a splendid hospitality. he was for many years chairman of the cunard company. after the cunard company was formed into a limited company, in 1882, mr. john burns was the chairman, but as he lived in scotland, the deputy-chairman (the late mr. david jardine) had the practical charge. his devotion to the interests of the company through difficult times was most praiseworthy. he built the "umbria" and "etruria," the two most successful and popular ships ever owned by the company. the marine superintendent of the cunard line (captain watson) was a remarkable man, a seaman of the olden school, with great knowledge of a ship, but with a very narrow outlook. of those who have passed away in connection with the cunard company, the most conspicuous figure was the second lord inverclyde, who succeeded mr. jardine as chairman in 1905, and remained so until his death, five years later. lord inverclyde had a great grasp of affairs, and was a thorough master of the management of a steamer. he built the "mauretania" and "lusitania," and had he lived he was destined to take a leading position in the country. lord inverclyde was succeeded as chairman by mr. william watson, who died in 1909. [illustration: ss. "umbria," 1884] the inman line ten years after the cunard company was established the late mr. william inman, in conjunction with richardson brothers, of belfast, founded a line of steamers to philadelphia. their first steamer was the "city of glasgow." they shortly after made new york their headquarters in america. mr. inman's policy was to cultivate the emigration trade, which had hitherto been carried by sailing ships; in this he was very successful, and the inman line, which existed for nearly forty years, will be remembered as containing some very fine and fast ships. the last ship mr. inman built, the "city of rome," was certainly the handsomest ship entering the port. mr. inman died in 1881 comparatively young. he was an excellent public-spirited citizen, always ready and willing to help forward any good cause. we saw much of him at windermere, where he loved to spend his holidays, and owned quite a flotilla of craft on the lake. before he died the pride of place on the atlantic had, however, been wrested from his hands by the more enterprising white star company. the inman steamers passed into the hands of the inman and international steamship company, under the direction of the late mr. james spence and mr. edmund taylor, and eventually drifted to southampton, and the old inman line, loved by liverpool people for their handsome ships with their overhanging stems and long graceful lines, is now only a memory. the collins line in 1850 an american line called the collins line started in the new york trade. it consisted of wooden paddle steamers with a tonnage of 2,800. they were for those times most luxuriously fitted. they had straight stems, and were known by their black funnels with red tops. the company was not a financial success, and the steamers were withdrawn in 1858. the white star line the white star line was originally a line of clipper ships trading to australia, and owned by pilkington and wilson. the line was bought by mr. t. h. ismay, who had formed a partnership with mr. imrie. mr. schwabe, of broughton hall, west derby, was a large shareholder in messrs. bibby's mediterranean line, and had, much to his annoyance, been notified that he could not have any further interest in their steamers, and the story goes that over a game of billiards he asked his friend, mr. imrie, to establish a new line to new york, and promised, if he would do so, and would give the order to build the ships to messrs. harland and wolff, he and his friends would take a substantial interest. messrs. ismay, imrie & co. accepted the proposal, and in conjunction with the late mr. g. h. fletcher founded, in 1870, the white star line of steamers to new york, mr. fletcher being associated with mr. ismay in the management. in the design of the "oceanic," "baltic," "atlantic," the first steamers built for the line, mr. harland adopted the novel features to which i have already alluded, and these, with the personal interest which mr. ismay displayed in making travellers by his line comfortable, quickly made the white star company very popular. it was this personal touch which contributed largely to the success of the company, and built up its great prosperity. mr. ismay was a personal friend of whom i saw much in private life. i did not consider his prominent position was due so much to his brilliance, although he was distinctly an able man, as to his personality. he was also very thorough in all he did, and had great initiative. he had the happy gift of winning the confidence of those with whom he was associated, and the power of selecting excellent lieutenants and placing responsibility upon them. he was ambitious--not for honour, for he had refused a baronetcy--but that the white star line should be pre-eminent. i was his guest on board the "teutonic," in 1897, on the occasion of the queen's diamond jubilee; the ship was filled by the leading people of the land. all that was great and distinguished in politics, in literature, and art, etc., were represented. we had also the kaiser wilhelm ii as a visitor. i was struck by mr. ismay's composure and the perfection of all his arrangements. the occasion was also made memorable by the appearance of the "turbinia," sir charles parsons' experimental ship. she rushed about at headlong speed, but always under control, and it was evident that the turbine was destined to become--as it has--a great motive power with immense possibilities. mr. ismay unfortunately did not live to see the completion of his _chef d'oeuvre_, the "oceanic." s. b. guion the guion line occupied for many years an important and distinct position. founded in 1866, their steamers were specially constructed for the emigration trade. after enjoying considerable success, they were unfortunate in adopting new designs which proved very costly experiments. upon the death of mr. guion, in 1885, the steamers were transferred to a public company, which ceased to exist in 1894. mr. guion was very highly esteemed, he was a member of the city council and chairman of the watch committee; his pleasant, genial smile and his little jokes still linger in my memory. [illustration: ss. "oceanic," no. 1, 1870] we have not alluded to the national line, which was established in 1862, and which, after enjoying a fluctuating career of prosperity and adversity, came to an end in 1892. the mediterranean trade in the forties the mediterranean trade was conducted by sailing brigs and fore and aft schooners. the late mr. w. miles moss, of james moss & co., told the story that in 1849, feeling convinced that the time had arrived to introduce steamers, he invited those engaged in the trade to dinner at his house. he gave them his opinion, and added that he had contracted to build a steamer to cost £21,000, and invited his guests to take an interest with him. they responded to the extent of £12,000 only. mr. moss significantly added, "i took the balance." this steamer was the "nile," and was the beginning of the moss, bibby, viana, chapple lines. they all rapidly grew to be enterprises of great importance, and the sources of large wealth. james moss & co. were the pioneers in the steam trade to egypt and the levant, their first steamer being the "nile." the bibby line the bibby line to the mediterranean was established in 1850 by john and james bibby, who had for many years owned a line of small sailing-vessels trading to italy. the success of the line was largely due to the genius of a young man, mr. f. r. leyland, who worked his way up from one of the lower rungs of the ladder, and eventually became the owner of the company. the career of mr. leyland is one of the most remarkable in our annals; receiving but a scant education he became a great linguist, an excellent musician, and as lover and connoisseur of art he had few superiors. mr. leyland's dispute with the great whistler as to the decoration of his peacock room will be remembered by many. the bibby line was revived by the nephews of the messrs. bibby who built up the old bibby line. the present bibby line has made for itself a very leading position in the east indian trade. w. j. lamport the liverpool shipping trade owes much to the late mr. w. j. lamport, who for many years was the nestor of the trade, and also the founder, in co-partnership with mr. george holt, of the firm of lamport & holt. mr. lamport was a very able man and was the author of the first merchant shipping bill. [illustration: ss. "nile," 1850] t. and j. harrison messrs. t. and j. harrison, in the sixties, owned a few iron ships in the calcutta trade, and some small steamers in the charente wine trade. the late mr. james harrison was a genius--some thought he was a little eccentric, but he saw much further than most men, and recognised that there was an opening in the india trade for ships of moderate power that could make their passages with some regularity, and he boldly chartered the ships of messrs. malcolmson, which were large carriers, and with their engines of small power placed right aft, they quickly made a great success. mr. james harrison's mantle fell upon very worthy shoulders in the late mr. john hughes, and under his direction the little charente line developed into the important harrison line of to-day. mr. james harrison's sons are among the foremost of the supporters of our charities, and have contributed largely to the building of our cathedral. alfred holt mr. holt claims a prominent niche in our gallery. he was essentially an inventor and a pioneer. in the early sixties he owned a line of small steamers trading to the west indies, and afterwards he entered the china trade in association with the swires, and was the founder of the prosperous holt line. mr. holt was for long years the advocate of the single engine, which he claimed to be the most economical, and also of models having fine lines and a big rise of floor--claiming that it was most economical in practice to have an easily-driven vessel. experience has, however, demonstrated that ships with full bodies can be more cheaply propelled at moderate speeds. mr. holt was the chairman of the dock board, and was the inventor of the "plateway"; a scheme suggested to be adopted on our highways in order to facilitate the conveyance of heavy goods in competition with the railways, a scheme of which we shall hear more. sir alfred jones the late sir alfred jones was a remarkable personality. he climbed up to the prominent position he eventually occupied by the sheer force of his will and character, backed by marvellous industry. i once asked him why he did not take a partner. his answer was, "i will do so as soon as i can find a man as 'intense' as myself." on my inquiry how he got through his work he replied, "system. my day is mapped out--a certain hour for my steamers, another for my banana trade, another for coal, another for my properties, another for my theatres in the canaries." with all this he spent several days each week in london, taking his correspondence clerks with him on the train and shedding them on the way as he completed his letters. for sheer force of character and power for work, sir alfred was the most remarkable man liverpool has produced in my day. [illustration: sir thomas brocklebank] [illustration: w. miles moss] [illustration: frederick r. leyland] [illustration: sir alfred jones] mr. walter glynn we had in mr. walter glynn a successful manager of the leyland line, and also a very useful member of the dock board. very blunt of speech, his directness of purpose was a very useful quality in public affairs. mr. william johnston mr. william johnston, the founder of the johnston line, devoted himself to the building up of his own business, in which he was most successful. he was the first to recognise and profit by through freight arrangements in connection with the great trunk lines of railway in america. rathbone brothers were among the first to form a line of steamers to calcutta. the "orion," "pleiades," and others, were handsome vessels, but the general impression was that they were not sufficiently large carriers for such a distant trade. mr. william rathbone's memory will be long treasured by liverpool as one of our most useful public men. he represented the town in parliament for many years, and liverpool was never better represented. he had an office at the rear of his private residence in london, where he kept a staff of clerks for his parliamentary business. those were days when a member could initiate and carry through legislation. mr. rathbone took a leading position in the reform of the poor laws, and in the promotion of the first merchant shipping bill. his brother, mr. samuel g. rathbone, devoted his remarkable ability to local affairs, and was a very valuable and leading member of the town council. turner, morrison & co. the owners of the asiatic line, trading on the coast of india, were represented by the late mr. alfred turner, who was one of our most large-hearted citizens. when we failed in the eighties to raise money to build a cathedral on the st. john's site, he defrayed the whole of the initial expenses. he was for some years the president of the seamen's orphanage. sir thos. royden was at one time one of our most prominent shipbuilders. he afterwards devoted his attention entirely to ship owning, in which he was most successful. sir thomas was a tower of strength to the tory party, his eloquence and his smile being among their most valuable assets. sir thomas lived to a good old age, and was always prominent in liverpool affairs. sir arthur forwood founded, in 1865, the west india & pacific co., of which he was the managing director, until he entered parliament. he was a man of striking ability and power of organisation, and was endowed with enormous energy. as the leader of the tory party in liverpool and in the county he did a great work for liverpool, and he became the parliamentary secretary to the admiralty. the booth line the booth line occupies a prominent position, and has built up a large trade with the northern brazilian ports. it was founded by the right hon. charles booth, the philanthropist, and the late mr. alfred booth. the original booth line amalgamated some years ago with messrs. singlehurst & co. * * * * * it is impossible to refer to the many who have been interested in our atlantic steam trade who valiantly bore their part in the struggles of the past. in these days, which have been days of remarkable prosperity, one is apt to forget the struggles of the past, and in no trade were they more severe than in the atlantic. sailing-ship owners among the sailing-ship owners of the day messrs. brocklebank took the lead. their ships, distinguished by a white band, seemed to monopolise the albert and the salthouse docks. they were not only our largest shipowners but our largest merchants, their ships conveying mostly their own cargoes. they were very slow in changing over from sail to steam. mr. ralph brocklebank took an active interest in the affairs of our dock board, and was for many years the chairman. sir thos. brocklebank took a prominent position in politics as a unionist, and both were very public spirited. messrs. rankin, gilmour & co., associated with the old firm of pollock & gilmour, of glasgow, had a large fleet, mostly engaged in the timber trade. mr. robert rankin lived at bromborough hall, and was for many years the chairman of the dock board. the firm is now most worthily represented by mr. john rankin, to whose widespread philanthropy liverpool is so greatly indebted. mr. edward bates was among our principal shipowners. his ships traded with bombay, were built of iron, and bore family names. to the surprise of most people, mr. bates entered parliament. he won the reputation of being the most regular member in his attendance, and was created a baronet. [illustration: "aracan," 1854] among other owners of sailing-ships we had mr. james beazley, who will always live in our kindly memory as the founder of the seamen's orphanage; mr. f. a. clint, mr. david fernie, and others. the australian trade probably the most active trade in the fifties was the australian trade, the gold discoveries attracting a large emigration trade. mr. h. t. wilson (the napoleon of the tory party) was very prominent and active in this trade. he founded the white star line, which he afterwards sold to mr. ismay. mr. james baines (who never appeared to be able to buy a hat sufficiently large to contain his big head), with his henchman, mr. graves, was always active and pushing, and kept the black ball line of australian packets well to the fore. he owned quite a large fleet of clippers, including the celebrated ship the "marco polo," the "james baines," the "donald m'kay," and others. the australian trade did not make fortunes; the soft wooden ships were costly to maintain, and competition became severe. s. r. graves, m.p. was a prominent shipowner. he became one of the members of parliament for liverpool; he was very popular in the house, and his friends expected he would have taken a high position had he lived. he was the popular commodore of the royal mersey yacht club, and his schooner yacht "ierne" will be remembered by many. we must not forget the fruit schooners owned by messrs. glynn & co., which filled the old george's dock. they were the witches of the sea. one of our most flourishing trades was the west coast trade of south america. it was worked by small barques of 400-500 tons, always smart, well-equipped vessels, as they needed to be to do battle with the heavy westerly gales off cape horn. messrs. balfour, williamson & co., who owned many vessels in this trade, made a noteworthy departure in providing a home in duke street for their masters and apprentices when in port. leaders in shipping in bringing these sketches to a close, one feels it may be considered presumptuous to attempt to allot the position which each may claim in building up our shipping prosperity, but we may point to distinctive features in the work of each claiming recognition. i think mr. charles maciver stands out prominently as the founder of our great atlantic trade. mr. t. h. ismay demands our appreciation for the good work he did for the ocean traveller--he made the comfort of the passenger his first consideration. the late mr. w. miles moss can claim to be the pioneer of the mediterranean steam trade. mr. inman was the friend of the irish emigrant. sir alfred jones, the active minded and energetic owner, whose ambition was boundless and success great. and last, but not least, sir edward harland, the great master shipbuilder, whose genius prevailed everywhere, and is still felt. it is very gratifying to be able to record the successful careers of many of our shipowners, who, from small beginnings, have achieved not only wealth, but positions of influence and importance. we have already alluded to mr. ismay, mr. f. r. leyland, and sir alfred jones. the late sir donald currie was for many years head of a department in the cunard co., and became in after years the chairman and principal owner of the cape mail line of steamers; and sir charles cayzer, while in the service of the p. & o. company, saved sufficient to buy a small sailing-vessel, and afterwards associating himself with messrs. arthurs & co., of glasgow, founded the important line of steamers bearing his name. it is a subject for sincere regret that the recent craze for amalgamation has obliterated so many landmarks in the history of our shipping. in a very few years names which were household words with us will have disappeared. ismay, imrie & co., the inman company, the guion line, the west india and pacific, the dominion line, the old bibby line have all already gone, and have become absorbed in still larger companies. the process is still making headway, and in a few years very few of the old companies will be left, and the headquarters of our great shipping industry will be in london. this will not make for the general prosperity of liverpool, and we shall miss the old liverpool shipowner in many ways. it will, however, be always pleasant to think of how nobly he did his duty. messrs. maciver, inman, ismay, allan, beazley, sir alfred jones were all distinguished by their public spirit and their generous support of our charities, particularly those associated with the welfare of the sailor, and no port in the world is so well equipped with institutions which care for his welfare. chapter v our merchant ships and the war _she walks the water like a thing of life and seems to dare the elements to strife._ --byron. the active part taken by our merchant ships in the war, and the brave deeds of our seamen are perhaps too recent to be considered "reminiscent," yet we cannot but feel that any story of the doings of our merchant navy during the past fifty years would be very incomplete without some reference to the noble part it played in the stirring events of the last five years, and how largely it contributed to the glorious and victorious result. the task of giving even a fragmentary account of the part which the mercantile marine took in the mighty conflict is rendered difficult in consequence of the lack of authoritative information, owing to the severe (but very proper) censorship exercised over the press during the war, and we shall have to await the official accounts to enable us to appreciate fully its work. but we know, however, sufficient of the arduous work of our seamen during this period, their courage and endurance in times of stress and peril, and their indomitable pluck in going to sea without any hesitation, knowing by experience the dangers they would encounter, to rank their services among the most valorous in the history of our country. war was declared on the 4th august, 1914. this country was slow in realising the gravity of the situation. "business as usual" expressed the light heart with which we entered upon a campaign which was destined to become a world war, involving us in immense sacrifices, and in responsibilities of which even now we cannot see the end. warlike operations during the first few months were mostly on land. the seas appeared to be well under the control of the navy, and therefore when sailing from liverpool early in december for the canaries, on the "anchises" we did not take seriously into account any danger from a submarine attack, and the only special precaution taken during the voyage out was to summon all hands to their boat-stations with their lifebelts on. when we arrived at las palmas, we saw fourteen german steamers anchored within territorial waters, while their crews had been interned, a british cruiser paying an occasional visit to see that the ships were all still there. [illustration: ss. "aquitania," with convoy, 1918] the sympathy of the people of the canary islands was entirely with germany, which for some time had been carrying on a carefully prepared propaganda. when the time arrived to return home, in april, 1915, the conditions had changed. the germans had declared a submarine blockade on the 18th february. the submarine warfare had become active, and special precautions had to be taken. when passing ushant a destroyer dashed up alongside, and gave the sailing directions upon which we were to proceed going up channel; but even these would not have protected us if we had been a few hours earlier, for a steamer preceding us had been attacked and sunk while following the course we were sailing upon. our ship, the white star steamer "corinthic," was bound from new zealand to london, with a cargo of frozen meat, and also carried many passengers. she was armed with two four-inch guns, manned by a complement of naval gunners. at dover we had to pass through a narrow passage protected by mines on either side; off margate we brought up for the night guarded by a destroyer, while ships of war were continually dashing past. there were evident signs of anxiety and activity, and we began to realise that we were at war, and to consider what could be done to counter the attack of a u boat. we had guns, but when a u boat showed herself, it would be almost too late to fire with effect. we remembered when on board the "mauretania" on a voyage to new york, hearing at a distance of fourteen miles a fog bell ringing under water at the nantucket lightship, and we thought the same principle might be utilized to detect a submarine at some distance by the thud made by the propeller. we also thought of the long distance coming up the channel which our ship had sailed without any protection, and the idea of reverting to the old system of "convoys" suggested itself, and we ventured, on reaching london, to write a letter to the _times_, embodying these ideas, but they were censored by the admiralty, although both were subsequently, after the lapse of three years, introduced, the "convoy" being found the best means of protecting our merchant fleet. when the war broke out suddenly, like a bolt from the blue, we were probably better prepared by sea than by land to meet the onslaught which had been so cunningly devised to take us unawares, for it was undoubtedly the intention of germany to crush us and bring us under her heel within a few months. the fleet had been summoned for a review by his majesty the king, it was, therefore, practically mobilized, and ready at once to take up such positions as would paralyze the movements of the german fleet, but much more than this had to be done, our army had to be transported across the channel, with all its stores and equipment; the forces so nobly supplied by our dominions beyond the seas had to be brought over, and this had to be done by our merchant ships. the seas had to be policed, our commerce had to be carried on and to be protected, and all this with the knowledge that german fleets still existed in the pacific and south atlantic, and also that many armed raiders were about. the rapidity with which all this was organised and carried out reflects the greatest credit upon our navy and merchant service. we managed to land our "contemptible" little army (as the kaiser was pleased to term it) of 170,000 men, and place it in battle array on the belgian soil without our enemy knowing when it arrived or where it was placed, and it was this ignorance of the whereabouts of our forces which we are now told enabled us to turn the defeat of the marne into a victory. on the seas our fleet was able to dispose of the german pacific fleet by sinking it in the battle off the falkland islands. the raiders were, however, successful in destroying much shipping before they were run to earth by our navy, which in the end destroyed or captured them. the credit of destroying the "cap trafalgar" after a severe fight belongs to a liverpool merchant ship, the "carmania." the war, however, developed new engines of maritime warfare--the submarine, the mine, and the seaplane--and our enemies speedily let it be known that they intended to carry out the traditions of their hun forbears, and pursue a ruthless war, in which they would slay every man, woman and child, however peaceful might be their occupations, if they stood in their way--a policy which they carried out with the greatest cruelty, outraging every dictate of humanity. the u boats, whose legitimate sphere was only to attack warships or those carrying troops or munitions, broke the laws of nations, and attacked hospital ships, sinking them with their freight of suffering humanity, passenger steamers, and merchantmen of every kind, not merely sinking them, leaving their people to drown or perish, but in many cases adding to their death struggles by firing upon them while in the water, or turning them adrift in their boats hundreds of miles away from the land. germany had realised at an early date in the war that she had no chance of defeating our navy in regular warfare, and that the submarine was not a very effective weapon against a battleship; and therefore, after declaring a submarine blockade of british commerce, entered upon a submarine campaign against our merchant shipping, in which she met with varying success. between the 24th february and the 13th october, 1916, she sank 183 ships and 144 fishing vessels, the highest number in one week being 35; and in the following year, between february 26th and november 18th (in nine months) the german submarine sank 661 vessels of over 1,600 tons, 247 under 1,600 tons, and 161 fishing craft; the number of ships unsuccessfully attacked being 550. during the war upwards of 8,000 british sailors lost their lives through submarine attacks. [illustration: ss. "oceanic," no. 2, 1899] submarines which at first were limited in the range of their operations by the amount of fuel they could carry, and could only conduct their nefarious warfare within the waters immediately surrounding great britain, were eventually built of sufficient size to be able to destroy our shipping when two or three hundred miles to the west of ireland, and two or three u boats were constructed large enough to cross the atlantic and destroy some shipping on the american coast; they were also armed with guns, which they freely used. various estimates were put out as to the number of submarines afloat. they seemed to ever increase in numbers, and in their boldness and unscrupulous mode of warfare. sometimes their attacks slacked off, as we are now told, while the kaiser had passing qualms of conscience. their movements were directed by wireless, and there is little doubt that they had sympathizers on the british coast, from whom they received information. the sinking of our shipping became alarming, sometimes, at the week-ends, the total reaching twenty and more steamers for the two days. this was the condition of things with which our merchant fleet had to contend. traversing day by day and hour by hour waters reeking with death and destruction, they knew that a submarine attack probably meant death to a large number of the people on board, perhaps all; but the british sailors heeded it not, their country's call sounded in their ears, and without hesitation they went to sea, not only in ships engaged in commerce, but also in vessels acting as armed cruisers and as patrol ships, sweeping the seas in search of the enemy's raiders; or as transports, in which they conveyed nearly a million of british troops from the most distant parts of the world, and two millions of american troops across the atlantic, with all their munitions of war and all their impedimenta. such a brilliant performance must for all time stand forth as one of the greatest achievements in the world's history. nor was the great and heroic work of our sailors limited to merchant ships. our fishing fleets, fitted as minesweepers, carried on without flinching, the highly dangerous task of sweeping the seas to find and destroy the mines which the enemy had strewn in all its pathways. even their mines were diabolically constructed to destroy innocent life, for contrary to international law, they remained active even after they were detached from their moorings, and were floating about. they were also sown by night, in the busy channels frequented by cross channel steamers and our fishing fleets. that all this was carefully thought out and "according to plan," is proved by the fact they could and did discriminate where and what their submarines attacked, for the isle of man boats were immune from attack, because it was known that they regularly carried large numbers of german prisoners of war. the patrol and mine-sweeping services conducted by our fishermen and many yachtsmen were most arduous, exposed not only to submarines and mines, but to the cruel, cold winter weather and heavy seas; yet they never faltered in their duty. the sea along the east coast of england is sown with wreckage of steamers and fishing craft destroyed while pursuing their ordinary and innocent trades. the irish sea and the north channel are also strewn with the remains of british shipping. for four years or more british ships followed their calling, passing through seas bristling with dangers, and the people of this country, which depends upon its overseas traffic for their daily bread, went about as usual, and suffered no actual privation from the shortage of food. such was the position of things--the dangers which our merchant ships had to encounter, and the problems which our navy had to attack and to conquer. the versatility of our navy is proverbial. it has been well said "a sailor is a jack of all trades." a distinguished officer recently stated that when he retired from the navy, he bought a brewery, which he worked for some years, and brewed the best beer in the district. he then laid a submarine cable for the american government, and ended up by managing a foreign coal-mine. such is the remarkable adaptability of our naval men. it is not, therefore, surprising that when the submarine menace developed itself our navy was not slow in devising means of counter-attack, and of destroying the u boats. destroyers and even submarines chased them, dropping depth charges containing high explosives, which were fatal if they struck the submarine, and even the concussion of the explosion at a considerable distance placed their electric batteries _hors de combat_. wire netting protected our ships while at anchor, and was used to form a barrier across the channel and to protect our ports. it was found that u boats could be seen from an aeroplane when they were some depth under the water. aeroplanes were, therefore, used to hunt the submarine, and indicate its position to an accompanying destroyer, or the aeroplane itself dropped a depth charge. underwater listening apparatus was invented, by which the thud of the propeller of a submarine could be distinctly heard, and the position of the submarine approximately ascertained. mystery-ships, fully armed, but having the appearance of an innocent coasting vessel, traversed the adjacent seas, but the most successful protection afforded to our transports and to our commerce was the adoption of the old system of "convoys." convoys were seldom very successfully attacked, and ships lost while being convoyed did not exceed 3 per cent. the convoy system required very careful organisation. ships have different speeds and different destinations, so we had convoys for ships of varying swiftness. we had not sufficient war ships or destroyers to act as convoys from shore to shore in the atlantic, therefore the convoys crossing the ocean were only under the protection of a ship of war, and only met their escort fleet of destroyers when they reached the danger zone. at a given point the convoy broke up, some ships going up the st. george's channel to liverpool, the others proceeding to london and the channel ports. the convoy system in the later stages of the war became very perfect, and although some enemy submarines boldly penetrated the protecting line of destroyers, and sank a few ships, they seldom got away again, and the knowledge of this had a very wholesome and a very deterrent effect. the valuable services performed by both english and american destroyers to our mercantile marine deserves the highest praise. the appearance of the river mersey upon the arrival of a convoy was something to be remembered. sometimes a convoy would consist of twenty or thirty large merchantmen, all dazzle-painted, stretching out in a long line from new brighton to the sloyne, while their escort of british and american destroyers made their rendezvous at the birkenhead floating stage. admiral scheer, in his book, allows that the germans lost half of their submarines, a considerable number he says were always under repair, and the difficulty of obtaining crews was an increasing one. therefore, we think that it can be claimed that our navy had already mastered the u boat menace when the war ended. to make it difficult for a submarine to find the range at which to fire their torpedos, our ships were carefully camouflaged or dazzle-painted, and presented a very grotesque and strange appearance, no two ships being alike. the painting was carefully designed, in many cases by an artist of eminence, the object being to confuse the eyes of a spectator at a distance. in some cases the ship was made to appear as if going the opposite way to that upon which she was actually proceeding. in others the ship gave the appearance of going at a much greater speed than that at which she was actually steaming. in others the ship at a distance had the appearance of being much shorter than she really was. in all these cases the submarine would have difficulty in ascertaining how far his quarry was away from him, which way she was proceeding, and how fast she was going. in order to render a submarine attack still more ineffective, our ships during the day time followed a zig-zag course, proceeding for a given period on a certain course, then suddenly changing it by several degrees, thus rendering it difficult for a submarine to get into a position to fire a torpedo. [illustration: ss. "mauretania," camouflaged, 1918 built 1907] another device adopted by our ships when pursued by a submarine was to throw out a smoke screen, which for some minutes entirely hid them from the enemy, enabling them to alter their course and steal away from their pursuers. the promiscuous mine-laying was a source of many disasters, but fortunately the invention of the "paravane" by a naval officer, proved an excellent protection. it consisted of two long steel bars, one on either side of the ship, attached at one end to the bows a few feet below the water, and at the other to an "otter," which, as the ship proceeded, spread the bars out and kept them away from the ship's side. when a mine was struck, the buoy-rope of the mine slid down and along the bar, and when it reached the "otter" the rope was caught and cut by a steel knife, and the mine was sunk. sufficient has been said to prove the very active and noble part taken by our mercantile marine during the war. although we do not claim that they won the war, we can, at least, say that the war could not have been won without them. we would also wish to bear testimony to the excellent spirit displayed by the royal navy to the merchant navy. they were in the highest and best sense "comrades-in-arms," and we in liverpool also gratefully recognize our debt to the united states. american destroyers were continually in the mersey. we admired their seamanlike trim, and the smartness of the officers and crews, and we appreciate the excellent and arduous work they did in safeguarding our convoys, which not only demanded the exercise of great skill, but called forth courage and endurance. chapter vi shipping and the war _the following chapter was published during the war, and fairly describes the attitude taken by shipowners towards the war, and the great work they successfully performed._ 1.--now and after it is unfortunate that no adequate statement has been forthcoming setting before the public the important services shipowners are performing for the country, and the serious position of the shipping industry. even in the house of commons the voice of the shipowner has never been effectively raised. it is no exaggeration to say that the shipping interest of great britain has sacrificed more than any other leading industry--and the country does not realise the serious difficulties which are in front of shipowners if they are to "carry on" after the war and maintain our maritime position. indeed, so far from the true position of the shipowner being realised, there appears to be a general impression that he has made undue profits out of the war, and is still in a privileged position, and is gathering in exceptional riches. it will scarcely be disputed that the material prosperity of the country depends upon the existence of a great mercantile marine, and that our shipping industry is vital to the existence of the nation. in times of peace we depend upon it to feed and clothe our people, and to bring us the necessary raw products, the manufacturing of which gives employment to our industrial population. we are apt to forget that we live upon an island, and with the exception of coal and iron, we depend almost entirely upon our shipping to supply the wants of our forty-five millions of people and to maintain our industries. were it not for our merchant ships the present war could not have been carried on. it would, ere now, have been lost, and the people of this country would be in the grip of famine. nor have our shipowners merely supplied our commercial wants; our merchant ships have been turned into armed cruisers, patrol ships, hospital ships, and transports, and have thus rendered the most effective assistance in the conduct of the war. anyone who realises these facts will see how important it is that our shipping interest should be supported, so that it may be in a position to resume its activities; and that its individuality should not be crushed and extinguished by government control and bureaucracy. as a proof of the successful enterprise of our shipowners in the twenty years prior to the war, our tonnage increased from 8,653,543 tons to 19,145,140 tons, and we owned 43 per cent. of the world's shipping. [illustration: ss. "olympic," 1911] it may be well to deal at once with the allegation that shipowners have made excessive profits. there is no doubt that during the first two years of the war ships earned large freights, not, however, due to what is commonly called "profiteering," but simply because the government hesitated to check the imports of merchandise of a bulky character. after the government had taken up the tonnage necessary for their transport purposes, what remained was not sufficient to convey the produce pressing for shipment. if imports had been regulated as they are now, the pressure for freight room would have been reduced and freights kept within moderate limits. the urgent need for checking imports of a bulky character was, i know, urged upon the government by shipowners who foresaw the scramble for freight space, but the government failed to respond to these representations. their hands were very full, the tonnage problem was a new and difficult one, opening up many embarrassing questions, viz., as to what imports should be checked, the effect of this upon our manufacturers, and what would be the result of checking trade in one direction, in causing its dislocation in another, and the consequent disturbance of our foreign exchanges. all these and others were points upon which we had little or no experience to guide us, and the position was aggravated by the loss of tonnage due to the ravages of the submarine. taking a calm view of the retrospect, and the gigantic and unique task with which the government has been faced, they have accomplished their work with fewer blunders than might have been expected. after all, freights have not bulked largely in the increased cost of produce; a freight of £10 per ton is only 1d per pound. if we are to find the true cause of our high cost of living we must look at the inflation and consequent depreciation of our currency, the high rate of wages, and increased spending power of our working classes, and the indifferent harvests of last year in all parts of the world. the high freights earned by our shipping in 1914, 1915, and part of 1916 naturally caused the value of shipping to rapidly advance. very few new merchant ships were being constructed; ships were being destroyed, and shipowners possessing established lines were forced to buy to maintain their services, and thus the value of secondhand steamers advanced to two, three, and even four times their pre-war values. many holders, especially of tramp steamers, sold out and realised great fortunes, and these unexpected and unprecedented profits unfortunately escaped taxation, on the ground that they represented a return of capital; and it is these profits that have appeared unduly large in the public eye. the shipowners who remained in business, and this comprised the great majority, were deprived of 80 per cent. of all their profits above their pre-war datum, and afterwards this tax on their excess profits was relinquished, and the government requisitioned all tonnage on what are known as blue book rates--which on the basis of the present value of shipping yield only a poor return. it is difficult to understand why the government should have placed shipping on a basis of taxation differing from all other industries--it is the industry which beyond all others is essential to the conduct of the war, and which is exceptionally subject to depreciation. the chancellor of the exchequer (the right hon. a. bonar law) was undoubtedly carried away by his own amateur experience as a shipowner, and thought there was no limit to the extent he might filch away the shipowner's earnings, little recking that if the shipowner is unable to put on one side a reserve to replace the tonnage he loses, he is forced to go out of the trade; and also utterly disregarding the rapid headway being made by neutral countries, who are profiting by the high freights and using their profits to greatly extend their mercantile fleets. in estimating the financial results of our shipowning industry during the early period of the war, allowance must be made for the increased cost of working a steamer. coals, wages, insurance, port charges, and cost of repairs, and upkeep were all very high; indeed, it may be said that the nett results to the shipowner of the high freights which prevailed in 1915 and 1916 were not very excessive when all these things are considered, for in addition to the increased cost of working, there was heavy depreciation to provide for, the shipowner suffered a complete dislocation of his trade, and in many cases lost his entire fleet, the creation of long years of toil, and with this his means of making a livelihood. 2.--difficulties of restoration we have considered the position of shipping as the paramount industry of the country--its great services in the conduct of the war, and what it is suffering in consequence of the diffusion of fairy tales of the excessive profits made by shipowners. we can now turn our attention to the extraordinary difficulties which stand in the way of the restoration of the shipping industry, which are fraught with considerable peril to the future of our empire. shipping may be divided into two classes, both of which are of national importance. the liners, which comprise fixed services of passenger and cargo ships. these services must be maintained, and new tonnage built at whatever cost to replace lost ships. the other class is our cargo ships. many of these conduct regular services; others are what are known as "tramps," and go where the best freights offer. it is the owners of the tramp steamers who have realised large profits by selling their ships. the government in their shipping policy have entirely failed to discriminate between these classes, not recognising that the liner services involve a complete and costly system of organisation both at home and abroad, which, once dislocated, is difficult to restore. the urgency for additional cargo ships prevents the building of liners, and there must be a considerable shortage of this description of vessel when the war ends. probably the cause which has been most detrimental and disastrous to shipping was the obstinacy of the admiralty in declining to recognise the urgent necessity for building more merchant ships. they filled all the yards with admiralty work, and when the violence of the submarine attack aroused the nation to a sense of the danger before it, and the cry went up throughout the land "ships, ships, and still more ships," the government then--only then--responded, and decided that further merchant ships must be built at once. there was great delay in giving effect to their decision to build "standard" ships--plans had to be submitted and obtain the approval of so many officials that many months elapsed before the keel of the first standard ship was laid, and in the meanwhile the losses through the submarine attack continued. the destruction of tonnage by submarine attack in 1917 assumed very serious proportions, but latterly the number of vessels sunk has been gradually reduced, and we have the recent assurance of the secretary to the admiralty that our methods of dealing with submarines have improved, and that we are now achieving considerable success in destroying them. the following statement gives the position to-day in gross tonnage:- 1917. u.k. world. sunk 4,009,537 6,623,623 built 1,163,474 2,937,785 nett loss 2,846,063 3,685,838 january-march, 1918. sunk 687,576 1,123,510 built 320,280 864,607 nett loss 367,296 258,903 the nett loss of british tonnage of 367,296 tons during the first three months of 1918 was still very serious, but we were told that we were making distinct progress in our rate of shipbuilding, and the following returns seem to bear this out. the united kingdom monthly output of new ships from may, 1917, was in tons:- may 69,773 june 109,847 july 83,073 august 102,060 september 63,150 october 148,309 november 158,826 december 112,486 january 58,568 february 100,038 march 161,674 april 111,533 in the year ended april, 1917, new u.k. ships totalled 749,314 tons, and for the year ended april, 1918, 1,279,337 tons. the growing scarcity of shipping, the urgent need of providing tonnage for the food supplies, not only for this country, but also for our allies, forced the government to consider in what way they could make the most economical use of the tonnage available. the position was rendered more acute by the entry of america into the war, and the adoption of the "convoy" system as a protection against submarine attack. there were two policies open for adoption by the government. one was to marshal and organise shipowners, and place in their hands the provision of the necessary tonnage, thus securing the co-operation and assistance of trained specialists. the other policy was to "control" the trade, requisition the whole of our shipping, and to work it themselves. they unfortunately adopted the latter policy, and by so doing they not only lost the individual enterprise and supervision of the trained shipowners, but practically placed shipowners out of business, and this at a time when "neutrals," who continue to benefit by the high freights, are making rapid strides as shipowners. the shipping control, under the able direction of sir alexander maclay, is doing its work on the whole better than might have been expected--thanks to the voluntary assistance of many of our younger shipowners. under the control, the shipowner is paid at rates laid down in the blue book, and without going into figures it may be roughly stated that on the pre-war values of steamers these rates leave him 6 per cent. or 7 per cent. on his capital, and 6 per cent. for depreciation, but on to-day's values the return upon his capital is very poor. a steamer now costs to build at least three times its pre-war cost. therefore, it is obvious a provision of 15 per cent. for interest and depreciation on pre-war cost is only 5 per cent. on to-day's values. this affords no inducement to enterprise, and it is not surprising that many shipowners have gone out of business. the government control has taken ships out of the long voyage trades and placed them in the atlantic trade, where they are required as transports and for the conveyance of food. this policy, which was perhaps inevitable, may involve far-reaching consequences. the long voyage trades have been built up by shipowners at a heavy cost, and are also the creation of generations. these services involve costly adjuncts in the shape of docks, piers, barges, repairing shops, branch steamers, and through traffic arrangements. it may be said all this will be recovered after the war; but this loses sight of the difficulty of regaining a trade once its associations and connections are severed; and also of the probable competition of america and neutral countries. certainly, the blue book rates give no compensation for such a disturbance. the government are making huge profits out of shipping, but what becomes of these profits we have been unable to discover; they do not appear in any returns we have seen. but the time has arrived when the "blue book" rates require to be revised--this, in view of the heavy cost of the repairs which will be necessary when the war is over, and the necessity of placing the shipowner in a position to replace his tonnage at the enhanced prices which will prevail. 3.--problems to come with peace we can now proceed to consider what will be the position of shipping after the war. this involves much clear thinking, and the discussion of several questions upon which no definite statement can be at present made. we start with a tonnage deficit as compared with 1914 of approximately 3,000,000 tons. the output of new tonnage at present falls short of our losses; last quarter to the extent of 367,296 tons. this is serious, but we are gradually overtaking it. we built last quarter 320,280 tons, and other countries did still better, turning out 864,607 tons, and it would appear as if we might now claim with some confidence that while the curve of the destruction by submarines is decreasing, the curve of the output of tonnage is increasing, and we may reasonably hope that at the end of the year our gains and losses of tonnage will balance. this will leave us still to make good the losses by submarine prior to this year. we have also to keep in mind that our shipbuilding yards are still much occupied with admiralty work and with the repair of ships damaged by submarine attack. after the war the government will have to demobilise, and the repatriation of armies comprising 5,000,000 men, with their munitions and impedimenta, can scarcely occupy less than two years, and will engage probably one-third of our available tonnage. europe will be very short of raw materials of every kind; the importation of them will be very urgent, and food will also be short for some time. with the heavy weight of taxation which we shall have to bear, an increased output of manufactures will be necessary if the prosperity of the country is to be restored. this will not be possible without an abundant supply of raw materials. the repatriation of our armies and the urgent need for raw produce would indicate that the government will retain their control of shipping for some time after the war. the british and american governments are building standard and wooden merchant ships, but they will not last long, and will have to be replaced by more substantial and suitable vessels. the prospect before shipowners, therefore, is that there will be a prolonged period of government control and of high freights, which will greatly benefit neutral shipowners. and the serious question arises, how is the british merchant service to be built up again? the position is one full of difficulty. prices of new ships will probably rule very high, and the blue book rates afford no encouragement to build. in america, france, and germany the difficulty will probably be solved by the granting of subventions; but in this country we have a profound distrust of subventions, as they are invariably associated with government control, which has always been destructive of enterprise. nothing could be more unfortunate than the prolongation of the shipping control one day longer than is necessary. it is undoubtedly paralysing the industry, and any attempt, such as has been fore-shadowed, to nationalise shipping would be most disastrous. how could a state department administer the shipping industry of this country in competition with foreign private enterprise? the national control of our shipping and other leading industries may be expedient in the present war crisis, but it has taught us that the nationalisation of any industry penalises it with so many restrictions, and surrounds it with so many unnecessary difficulties that it is foredoomed to failure, and would inflict infinite damage to the prosperity of the country. advances of money by the government at a low rate of interest would no doubt be an encouragement--and those shipowners who can afford to be bold and accept the position will probably be rewarded; but to go on building ships at the very high prices may be beyond the prudent reach of the average private shipowner. this rather points to the creation of large companies. in shipowning, as in every other department of industrial life, "scale" may be the dominant factor, and the shipowning companies who, during the war, have been able to lay by large reserves, will find themselves in a position of great advantage. in view of the necessity for strengthening the hands of shipowners and enabling them to carry on in the difficult times before them, the government is making a mistake in not giving more encouragement to shipowners. experience teaches us that shipowners may be trusted to quickly adopt every modern means to work their ships economically, and to adapt them to the trades they serve; but do our port authorities equally recognise their duties to provide the most up-to-date methods and machinery for the handling of our cargoes? we may economise in the working of our ships at sea, but if on their arrival in port they have to wait for berths to discharge and load, and if these operations are hampered by the lack of mechanical appliances or labour, the shipowners' exertions are in vain. nor does the difficulty end here: docks lose their value and attractiveness if the cost of moving cargoes from the ship's side to the warehouse, or to the manufacturing districts, forms a heavy addition to the freight. in liverpool we have, unfortunately, the costly, cumbrous, and old-fashioned system of cartage still prevailing. there is a lack of good road approaches to the docks and railway termini--a wholly inadequate means of conducting the cross-river traffic. our trade has out-grown our railway communications with the interior, and our railways continue, as they have always done, to strangle our trade by their excessive charges, and thus to deprive our port of the advantage of its unique geographical position. we want cheap and abundant water, and cheap electrical energy to extend our local manufacturing industries. all these things point to a quickening of dock board methods, but still more to the awakening of the city council to its responsible duties as the custodians of a great seaport, and the urgent necessity that they should do their part in its restoration and development, and make it ready to do its share in the revival of trade after the war. our city fathers cannot rest content with carrying out what disraeli, in one of his ironical moods, called "a policy of sewage." we want a wider outlook, and a more generous appreciation of the fact that liverpool depends upon her commerce. every expenditure which the city has made in the past upon its development has resulted not only in its growth and prosperity, but in the well-being of her people. the british mercantile marine has for long been the envy of neighbouring nations, who are watching the opportunity to seize the business which our ships have been compelled to abandon. we have lost a large proportion of our tonnage, and what is left is taken out of the control of the shipowner. the situation constitutes a serious national danger, and we may some day awake to the fact that we have lost beyond recovery the industry which is above and beyond all others, the great national asset, and shall rue the day when our chancellor of the exchequer became interested in four small vessels and drew conclusions from his experience which are not supported by the wider and more expert knowledge of the shipowner. such is the present position of shipping and its future outlook- a considerable reduction in the available tonnage. government control for a lengthened period. high freights and high cost of new ships. the probability of a great increase in american and neutral shipping. we cannot leave the subject without indicating that everything may be greatly changed by the attitude of labour. if the present "ca-canny" and "down tool" policies are to continue it is difficult to see how we can recover our prosperity. labour will have to realise that it has its value, and that the receipt of wages carries with it the obligation to give an honest day's work. and equally employers will have to recognise that labour must have a fuller share of the fruits of their labour and better conditions of life. strikes will not settle these matters; they only serve to intensify distrust and ill-feeling. we must hope that our men returning from the front will have a wider outlook and altered views of life, and that employers will also generously recognise the changed conditions. we trust also that the whitley report may be quickly followed by the establishment of industrial councils, and that these councils will be able to promote confidence and good feeling and remove the friction and distrust which has too long existed between capital and labour. meanwhile a propaganda might be started to instruct our people in those elementary principles of economic science which govern their labour, and about which so much ignorance unhappily prevails. chapter vii the "red jacket" a reminiscence of 1857 we are justly proud of the development of our steamships--their size, speed, and magnificent equipment--and we are apt to forget that this has always been characteristic of british shipping. in the old sailing-ship days, about 1850-1860, a walk round the prince's dock, crowded with clipper ships, was something to fill an englishman with pride. the beautiful symmetry of the hull, the graceful sweep of the sheer fore and aft, the tautness of the spars, the smartness of the gear and equipment attracted the eye; but, perhaps, above all, the romance of the sea attached itself to the sailing-ship and appealed to the imagination in a way which does not gather round a steamer, however large and magnificent. we realised that the sailing-ship had to do battle with wind and waves in far distant seas single-handed, relying entirely upon her sails and equipment and the skill of her crew; whereas a steamer tells us at once of her unseen power which makes her independent of winds and weather, and enables her to make her voyages with almost the regularity of the railway train. all this, the achievement of the steam engine and the development of the screw propeller, is very splendid to think upon, but the old romance of the sea has gone. the inspiring and wonderful sight of the liverpool docks, a forest of the masts of english and american clippers; the river mersey at high water, alive with splendid sailing vessels leaving or entering our docks, and at anchor in a line extending from the sloyne to new brighton, or towing out to sea, or may be sailing in from sea under their own canvas--all was activity and full of life and motion. i remember seeing one of brocklebank's ships--the "martaban," of 600 tons--sailing into the george's dock basin under full canvas; her halliards were let go, and sails were clewed up so smartly that the ship as she passed the pierhead was able to throw a line on shore and make fast. it is difficult in these days to realise such a thing being possible. it was skill supported by discipline. when i was young i was a keen yachtsman, and had the good fortune to make a voyage to australia in one of the most famous of our clipper ships, the "red jacket." some account of the first few days of my voyage may be of interest, and bring into contrast the ease and luxury enjoyed on board an atlantic liner, with the hard life on board a first-class clipper ship. it is not too much to say that on board an atlantic liner the weather does not count; on board an old sailing-ship the weather meant everything. [illustration: "red jacket," 1854] the "red jacket" was built in maine, in 1854. she was 2,006 tons. her length was 260 feet, and her beam 44 feet. she was an extremely good-looking ship. her figurehead was a full-length representation of "red jacket," a noted indian chieftain. she had been purchased by pilkington & wilson for £30,000, for their white star line of australian packets. on her voyage from new york she had made the passage in thirteen days one hour--on one day she logged 415 miles. on the morning of the 20th november, 1857, i embarked by a tender from the liverpool pierhead. it was nearly the top of high water. the crew were mustered on the forecastle, under the 1st mate, mr. taylor. an order comes from the quarter-deck, "heave up the anchor and get under way." "aye, aye, sir." "now then, my boys, man the windlass," shouts the mate, and to a merry chantie: in 1847 paddy murphy went to heaven to work upon the railway, a-working on the railway, the railway, the railway, oh, poor paddy works upon the railway. a good chantie man is a great help in a ship's crew. a song with a bright topical chorus takes half the weight off a long or a heavy haul. the chain cable comes in with a click, click of the windlass falls. "the anchor is away, sir," shouts the chief officer. "heave it a-peak and cathead it," comes from the quarter-deck, and the tug "retriever" forges ahead, and tightens the towrope as we gather way. bang, bang, went the guns, and twice more, for we were carrying the mails, and good-bye to old liverpool, and the crowds which lined the pierhead cheered, for the "red jacket" was already a famous ship, and it was hoped she would make a record passage. next morning we were off holyhead, with a fresh westerly breeze and southerly swell. we were making but poor headway, and shortly the hawser parted. "all hands on deck" was shouted by captain o'halloran, and a crew of eighty men promptly appeared on deck, for we carried a double crew. "loose sails fore and aft; hands in the tops and cross-trees to see that all is clear and to overhaul gear; let royals and skysails alone." the boatswain's whistle sounded fore and aft as the men quickly took their positions and laid hold of the halyards and braces. "mr. taylor, loose the head-sails." "aye, aye, sir." the topsails, courses, and topgallant sails were all loose and gaskets made up. "sheet home your topsails." "aye, aye, sir." "now, then, my men, lead your topsail halyards fore and aft, and up with them." away the crew walk along with the halyards, and then with a long pull and a pull all together the topsail yards are mastheaded to the chantie:- then up the yard must go, whiskey for my johnny, oh, whiskey for the life of man, whiskey, johnny. "'vast heaving--belay there. now brace up the yards, all hands on the lee fore braces." so handy my boys, so handy, sang the chantie man. "pass along the watch tackle, and have another pull. that will do. belay there, and man the main braces. down tacks." the jibs are run up and the spanker hauled out, and the good ship "red jacket" like a hound released from the leash, bounds forward, and runs the knots off the log reel. captain o'halloran was hanging on to the rail to windward, munching, not smoking, his cigar, with an anxious eye to windward, asking himself, "dare i do it? will she carry them? yes, i think she will. mr. taylor, stand by the royals, haul on the weather braces, steady the yard while the youngsters lay aloft--up boys"; and half a dozen or so youngsters scampered up the rigging, over the tops, and through the cross-trees, and quickly were the royals loosed and sheeted home. "well done lads--tie up the gaskets--clear the clew lines and come down." but we not only wanted all sails, but every sail well set, for we were close on the wind. jibs and staysails, courses and topsails, topgallant sails and royals must be braced sharp up at the same angle to the wind, and every tack and sheet pulling doing its work. the good ship felt that she had the bit in her mouth, and bounded along, throwing the seas in sparkling cascades to port and starboard. the man at the wheel kept his eyes upon the weather-luff of the fore royal, and kept the sail just on the tremble, so as not to lose an inch to windward. as evening approached, the wind increased with squalls, the captain looked anxious, and shouted to mr. taylor, "see that all the halyards are clear, run life-lines fore and aft, sand the decks, and see that the lee scuppers are free." so the good ship plunged along, occasionally taking a sea over the bows, and in some of her lurches pushing her lee rail under water and throwing spray fore and aft; she was just flirting with the weather, romping along, seemingly enjoying every moment, and revelling in her element. "keep her going," shouted the captain to the man at the wheel, "full and bye; just ease her a few spokes when the squall strikes her." a loud report like a cannon--the second jib is blown clear out of the bolt ropes. "hands forward--bend a new jib"--not an easy matter with seas coming over the forecastle; but with haul in the bowline, the bowline haul the sail was mastheaded. "mr. taylor, heave the log." "aye, aye, sir." "what is she doing?" "eighteen knots, sir, on the taffrail." "good, we shall make over 400 knots by noon tomorrow." and we did. we need not say that passengers under these conditions were not at home, or, indeed, wanted on deck, and the fifty saloon passengers and 600 steerage were on such days kept below in an atmosphere which was stifling; but this was rather an exceptional day. we had also soft, bright, sunny days, when life was a delight, a luxury, a dream, and the sea heavenly, but we had something exciting almost every day--sail splits, spars and gear carried away, albatross circling overhead, cape pigeons, icebergs off kerguelen land, and finally we made port philip heads in sixty-four days--the record passage. bravo, "red jacket." i leave my readers to mentally compare a passenger's life on the "red jacket"--with its spirit of sport and adventure, its romance, its daily happenings, and its hardships--with the luxury on such a ship as the "aquitania" or "olympic" with all their attractions of a first-class hotel, bridge parties, dancing, and entertainment of every kind, regardless of weather--with everything, in fact, but that spirit of adventure which appeals so strongly to the imagination of the britisher, and which, after all, has built up his character and made him the doughty man he is either on land or at sea. chapter viii the "queen of the avon" a reminiscence of 1858 the old-fashioned sailing-ship was handicapped by her inability to contend successfully with strong head winds. after the continuance of a succession of north-west gales the river mersey and our docks became crowded and congested with outward bound ships waiting for a shift of wind to enable them to get away, and when this took place the river was a wonderful sight. i remember, as a boy, standing on the shore at seaforth and counting over three hundred sailing vessels of all sorts and sizes working their way out to sea on the ebb tide between the rock light and the formby light ship, and interspersed among them were also a number of sailing-ships towing out to sea. this crowd of shipping was not only very picturesque, with their divers rigs and tanned sails, but was interesting, as it contained many types of vessel now extinct. the "brig," square-rigged on both masts, was a good-looking, weatherly craft; the "billie boy," carrying a square sail forward and a jigger aft; the sloop, which did most of our coasting work, had a big square-cut mainsail and jib; and the old dutch galliot, with her bluff bows and paint of many colours; all these have now practically disappeared. the most trying winds, however, were the easterly gales, which prevailed in november and december, and also in the spring. with easterly gales blowing i have known liverpool to be a closed port for weeks together, few or no vessels entering it; and more than once this blockade of our port by easterly gales had a serious effect upon our stocks of cotton and produce. the inward-bound fleet was caught in the chops of the channel, and was there detained until the wind changed. it is of such an experience i wish to write. i had gone out to australia in the celebrated clipper "red jacket." at sydney i took my passage home in a small barque of 400 tons, called "queen of the avon." i was the only passenger, and selected this little ship purposely that i might learn something of the practical working of a ship at sea. i told the captain of my wish, and found him quite sympathetic, and he offered to teach me navigation; but when i showed him the log i had kept on the "red jacket," and the many observations i had taken and worked out, he said he felt he could not teach me much. he, however, agreed to my taking my trick at the wheel, and going aloft when reefing or making sail. when the ship was ready for sea the police brought off our crew, for, in consequence of the lure of the goldfields, it was only possible for a ship to keep her crew by interning them with the police while she was in port--in other words, placing them in gaol. the police and the crew soon set our topsails and foresail, and with a fair wind we quickly passed down sydney's beautiful harbour. when we reached the entrance the police, getting into their boat, left us, and we started upon our long voyage to valparaiso. from valparaiso we proceeded to guayaquil, where we loaded a cargo of cocoa for falmouth for orders. our voyage was uneventful. i obtained the knowledge of seamanship i desired, for we were fortunate in having in our small crew an old man-of-war's man named amos. amos was a splendid man, a stalwart in physique, and most estimable in character. he quickly took the lead in the forecastle, and exercised great moral influence. no "swear word" was heard when old amos was present. when reefing he had the post of honour at the weather earing, and when he got astride the yardarm the weather earing was bound to come home. he taught me my knots, bends, and splices, and looked after me when aloft. at the end of ninety days we sighted the wolf rock off the land's end. in the afternoon we were off the lizard, and stood off shore to clear the manacle rocks. the crew were busy hauling up the cables from the chain locker, for we expected to be in falmouth before sunset, and all hands were bright and gay at the early prospect of being on shore once more. the wind, however, became more easterly, and when we again tacked we failed to clear the manacles. standing out again we were blown off the land, and thirty days elapsed before we again made the manacles, during which time we battled day after day with a succession of easterly gales. we were blown off as far west as the meridian of the fastnet; then we got a slant, and crawled up as far as the scillies, only to be blown off again. it was monotonous and weary work; standing inshore during the day and off-shore at night, mostly under double-reefed or close-reefed topsails, or hove to with a heavy sea running. indeed, we met many ships which apparently had given up the contest, and remained hove-to waiting for a change of wind. we had some bright sunny days, but mostly drab grey atlantic days, and an easterly wind always. at the end of ten days h.m.s. "valorus," a paddle sloop, came within hailing distance, and offered to supply us with fresh provisions. this offer our skipper declined, much to the disappointment of his crew, for our hencoops had been empty for weeks, and our one sheep and two pigs had been consumed long ago, and we were living upon hard biscuit and salt tack, boiled salt beef and plum duff one day and roast pork and pea soup the next. there was no variation; our food had become distinctly monotonous. the crowd of ships thus weather-bound increased day by day--ships from calcutta and bombay, deeply-laden rice ships from rangoon, and large heavily-laden american ships with guano from the chinchas. some we met almost daily; others came upon the scene now and again, and we welcomed them as old friends. the only vessels that got through to their port of destination in spite of the easterly gales were the fruit schooners conveying cargoes of oranges from the azores. they were smart brigantines--perfect witches of the sea--well handled, and they never missed a chance. they seemed to have the power of sailing right into the teeth of the wind. at the end of a further ten days another relief ship hailed us, but our captain again declined any supplies, arguing with himself that the east winds could not last much longer; but another ten days had to pass before a gentle westerly swell told us that westerly winds were not far away, and before twenty-four hours had elapsed we squared away before a westerly breeze. we soon passed the lizard, and the manacles, and dropped our anchor in falmouth, making the passage in 120 days, of which we had spent thirty in the chops of the channel. chapter ix the "great eastern" a reminiscence of 1861 some account of the memorable voyage of the "great eastern," when she broke down in the middle of the atlantic, may be of interest. it is an old story, but it is memorable as marking an epoch in the history of the atlantic trade, which owes not a little of its progress to its failures. the enterprise which produced these failures is entitled to our admiration for its boldness and courage. the "great eastern" was a remarkable ship. she was, in a sense, twenty years ahead of her time. on the other hand, if she had possessed sufficient engine power for her displacement, she would have revolutionized steamship travel across the atlantic and hastened the era of large and swift atlantic liners. the "great eastern" was designed by brunel, and built in 1858 for the east india and australian trades, for which routes a large coal carrying capacity was necessary. but she never entered those trades. her speed in smooth water was twelve to thirteen knots, but in a head sea she could do little more than hold her own, hence the cause of her troubles. the following figures give her dimensions, contrasted with the largest vessel of her time--the "scotia"--and the ships of to-day:- built. length. beam. depth. tonnage. "great eastern" 1858 691 82 48.2 18,915 "scotia" 1861 400 47 30.3 3,871 "campania" 1893 620 65 43.0 12,950 "aquitania" 1914 868.7 97 49.7 45,647 it will be seen from these figures how great was the departure of the "great eastern" from the largest vessel of her period, and how small she would appear to-day by the side of the "aquitania." not only was she a great advance in size, but she had many other novel points. she was propelled by two sets of engines, oscillating paddle engines and horizontal screw engines, which together developed 11,000 horse-power. she was fitted with six masts and four funnels. her cabin accommodation was unusually capacious and lofty. speaking from memory, her saloon was 18 to 20 feet high. she had a smoking room, while in the "scotia" smokers had still to be content with the fiddlee, sitting upon coils of rope. the "great eastern" had but few deck houses, so that her decks were magnificently spacious. [illustration: ss. "great eastern," 1858] she sailed from liverpool for new york on a beautiful afternoon in the early autumn of 1861. we had on board about four hundred saloon passengers, and a considerable number in the second cabin. she was commanded by an ex-cunarder, captain walker. the dock quays in liverpool, margining the river, were lined with a vast concourse of people to see the great ship depart. we had a splendid run down the channel, and on the following evening we passed the fastnet. our people were having a gay time, singing and dancing on deck, and greatly enjoying themselves. in the middle of this revelry we passed the "underwriter," one of the black ball sailing-packets, also bound for new york. she was under whole topsails, plunging into a head sea and throwing the spray fore and aft. we looked upon her with admiration, but with feelings of immense superiority. the old order had passed away, and the new had arrived in the "great eastern." many were the congratulations expressed upon the advance in naval architecture, and many indeed fancied that the perils and discomforts of the sea were things of the past. the next day was one of those drab grey days so frequent upon the atlantic. the wind was increasing in force, and more northerly. the sea was getting up, but the great ship, meeting it almost dead ahead, scarcely heeded it. "she is as steady as a rock." "wonderful!" were some of the remarks passed around as we took our morning constitutional. by noon the scene had changed. the wind had veered round to the north, bringing up a heavy beam sea. the big ship began to lurch and roll heavily, taking heavy spray overall. some of her movements were significant of danger--she hung when thrown over by a sea, and recovered very slowly. a huge sea striking her on the starboard bow swept her fore and aft, and carried away one of our paddle wheels and several boats. an ominous silence shortly prevailed, and it was whispered that the rudder had been carried away. the great ship fell into the trough of the sea and became unmanageable, lurching and rolling heavily and deeply. the seas, from time to time, striking her with great force, made her quiver fore and aft. the second paddle wheel was soon swept away, and boat after boat was torn from the davits, the wrecks in many instances being suspended by the falls. while destruction was being wrought on deck, the damage in the saloons and state-rooms was appalling. they were simply wrecked by the furniture getting loose and flying about, breaking the large mirrors which adorned the saloon, and adding broken glass to the dangerous mass of debris. many of our passengers were badly wounded. the engineers were trying to repair the broken rudder-stock by coiling round it iron chains to form a drum, so as to be able to get a purchase upon it. that night was a night of much anxiety, but the behaviour of the passengers was exemplary. the ladies found a part of the saloon where they could sit on the deck in comparative safety, and here they knitted and sang hymns. there was a general effort to make the best of things. the following morning the weather had slightly moderated, but the sea was still mountainous, and we rolled heavily. the chain cable stowed in one of the forward lower decks broke loose, and burst through the outer plating and hung in a festoon overboard. the cow-house had been destroyed, and one of the cows was suspended head downwards in the skylight of the forward saloon, and a swan which had been in the cow-house was found in the saloon. the captain sent for some of the passengers he knew, and told them that, as the crew had broken into the liquor store, he wished to form special guards to patrol the ship. some twenty or thirty volunteered, and for four hours each day we patrolled the ship, having a white handkerchief tied round our left arm as our badge of office. food had become a difficulty. all the crockery had been smashed, so the victuals were brought down in large stew pans, and taking pieces of broken dishes, we helped ourselves as best we could. in the afternoon the "scotia," outward bound for new york, hove in sight. the great cunarder looked stately and magnificent, and as she gracefully rode over the big seas without any effort, simply playing with them, she told us what design, knowledge and equipment could do. after sailing round us, she bore away on her voyage. another miserable night followed, and it was obvious that the mental strain was beginning to tell upon some of our people. the following day the weather was much finer and the sea moderate, but we were still helpless, a derelict on the wide atlantic. no success had attended the effort to repair the rudder-stock; nothing would hold it. in the afternoon a small nova scotian brig hove in sight, and sailed round us, as we thought, within hailing distance. one of our passengers offered the captain £100 per day if he would stand by us. no answer coming, an offer to buy both his ship and her cargo was conveyed to him, but still no answer came, and in the evening she sailed away. the captain of the brig was apparently some time afterwards informed of what had taken place, and promptly claimed one day's demurrage, and was suitably rewarded. it was now evident that our only hope was to hasten the repair of the rudder-stock. in our dire emergency a young american engineer, mr. towle, offered a new suggestion, to build a cross head on to the broken stock, and to steer the ship with tackles attached to it. after some hours' work and the exercise of much ingenuity, he succeeded, to the great joy of everyone. the screw engines were still in good order, and the big ship was soon on her way back to queenstown, where we arrived five days after passing it on our outward voyage. the damage done to the ship was considerable, and some idea of the violence with which she had rolled can be formed from the fact that when the baggage room was opened, it was found that water having got into it, the baggage had been churned into a pulp, and was taken out in buckets. the "great eastern" ended her somewhat inglorious career by laying cables across the atlantic, and finally was broken up on the new ferry shore at birkenhead. she had served, however, one great purpose which had borne good fruit--she taught us that to successfully fight the atlantic on its days of storm and tempest, which are many, the design of the engine and its power should receive as much consideration as the design of the ship's hull. chapter x building an east indiaman a reminiscence of 1856 _build me straight, o worthy master, staunch and strong, a goodly vessel that shall laugh at all disaster, and with wave and whirlwind wrestle._ --longfellow. the building of a wooden east indiaman recalls much of what was romantic in the history of british shipping--much of what was essentially british in the art of the craftsman. the old shipwright with his black wooden toolbox slung over his shoulder, or plying his adze or the caulking iron, is a type of a british artisan unhappily now becoming extinct. he was no ordinary workman following day after day the same monotonous job, for his work called for the constant exercise of his own individuality, of his powers of observation, and his ingenuity in the application of the teachings of experience; the selection of suitable timber, of proper scantling, oak crooks for the floors, aprons and knees, the curved timber for the futtocks, all called for skill and knowledge, and he had to keep constantly in view, when building, the necessity for giving proper shifts to the scarfs and the butting of the planks--all demanding not only thought, but daily presenting new problems which only a trained eye and experience could solve. the rhythm of the old shipbuilding yard had a peculiar charm and attraction; it was not the monotonous deafening roar of the hydraulic riveter heard in the modern yard, but the music of the adze and the humming of the caulking chisel made a sort of harmony not unpleasant to the ear; while the all-prevailing smell of tar imported a nautical flavour which is entirely absent from the iron shipbuilding yard. we now only think in terms of angle iron, plates, butt straps, and rivets which follow one orthodox pattern. the iron ship is but a tank with shaped ends, or a girder, or a series of box girders, for every deck, and every row of pillaring constitutes a girder; their size and shape are all set out by the draftsman in the drawing office, the work in the yard is purely mechanical; the old skill of the craftsman is not called into play. it was my good fortune, when i left school in 1856, to spend some time in the shipbuilding yard of george cox & son, of bideford, in order that i might obtain some knowledge of the craft. the firm were engaged building the "bucton castle," of 1,200 tons register, for the calcutta trade, to class thirteen years a1, the highest class at lloyd's. it is of my experience in building that ship of which i purpose writing. it will occur to many that bideford was a strange out-of-the-way place for a shipyard. bideford we only associate with charles kingsley and "westward ho!" with its long bridge of twenty-three arches, a bridge which has the repute of being a soul-saving bridge, an alms-giving bridge, a dinner-giving bridge, a bridge which owns lands in many parishes; but bideford, with its wide expanse of sands and tidal bores, is about the last place to suggest shipbuilding. but bideford, like plymouth and devonport in olden days, was in close proximity to large forests of oak and other woods essential to wooden shipbuilding. the first thought of the builder of a wooden ship was to secure his timber, good natural oak crooks for the floor timbers, knees and aprons, and the futtocks forming the turn of the bilge, and good square timber for the frames, beams, etc. not only had this to be carefully selected free from rends and shakes, but it had to be piled up in the yard and seasoned. in the same way elm timber required for the sheathing, and the pine necessary for the decks and inside ceiling, all required seasoning before being worked up. the plans of the proposed ship having been prepared and duly laid off in the drawing loft, the first step was to provide the blocks upon which she was to be built, and the ways from which, when completed, she would be launched. upon these blocks the keel was laid, usually constructed of elm, which is tough and does not split. the keel was in several lengths, fastened together with long scarfs, bolted through. on each side a rabbit or groove was cut to receive the garboard strake (the first strake of planking). on the top of the keel the floor timbers were laid across alternately, long and short, and on the top of the floors the keelson was bolted. the keelson ran the full length of the ship. there were also sister keelsons on either side, covering the ends of the floors. to the end of the floors the first futtocks were scarped and bolted, and these formed the turn of the bilge, and above came the timbers forming the frame. the selection of the timber required for the floors and futtocks needed a very skilled eye; pieces of timber which would require the least dressing must be chosen, and the piles of timber were examined over and over again to find the piece which would give the nearest approach to the curve required when the ship was in frame. then came the planking or sheathing. this had to be carefully worked in proper shifts, to prevent the butts of the planking coming into close proximity. the upper strakes or sheer strakes and the bilge strakes were always doubled. in a similar way the interior of the ship was lined or ceiled, all with a view to strength. 'tween deck beams and main deck beams were thrown across and rounded up, to give strength and camber to the decks. they were fastened to longitudinal timbers running along the sides of the ship, called shelfs, and these shelfs were secured to the framing of the ship by wooden knees reinforced in high-class ships by iron knees. the structure was fastened by wooden treenails and metal through-bolts of copper or yellow metal. the butt end of every plank was secured by a metal bolt, in addition to treenails securing it to every timber. i have said enough to prove that the shipwright of the olden time had to exercise more individuality and skill than is necessary to-day. the shipbuilder's work was not completed when he had launched his ship; she had to be rigged and fitted out, and copper-sheathed to prevent the ravages of worms and marine insects; and in course of time the ship had to be salted, the spaces between the frames being filled with rock salt to preserve the timber from decay. american ships, which were very numerous and handsome in design, were usually built with hacmatac frames and pine sheathing, and canadian vessels were built entirely of soft wood with iron fastenings, and rarely received a higher class than nine years a1. although the reminiscences of the old wooden shipbuilding days are pleasant and interesting, if we had been limited to wooden ships the progress of commerce and the spread of civilisation would have been greatly hindered. it was not possible to build a wooden ship of over 4,000 tons--i think this was the size of the "great republic"--and the number of vessels required to lift the merchandise now requiring to be carried by sea would have exhausted our available forests of timber. the iron and steel ships have saved the situation, not only enabling us to move the cargoes the world requires, but enabling us to construct steamers of large size and great speed which have built up a passenger trade which, even sixty years ago, was never dreamed of. it is remarkable that in land travel, just as the growth of the population demanded it, we have had improvements in the mean of locomotion--the pack-horse, the wheel, the steam engine, the railway, and electric traction have followed each other. so at sea--from the ancient galley to the wooden sailing ship, the clipper ship, the paddle steamer, the screw steamer, the high-pressure engine, the condensing engine, the double and triple expansion engine, the turbine, and we have in front of us looming largely oil fuel, to be followed probably by some form of electric propulsion. from this it would almost seem as if a providence provided for us transport facilities in proportion to our needs for the conveyance of our products and for travel. i was interested in recently visiting bideford to find that the old shipbuilding slips still exist--although unused for nearly fifty years. they have this year been bought by the firm of hanson & co., who have a small ship under construction. chapter xi our riddle of the sands shortly before the late war a small volume entitled "the riddle of the sands" had a large circulation. it described the adventures of two friends, who, in a small yacht, spent their summer vacation in cruising on the friesland coast of germany, and it gave a graphic account of their discovery of a wonderful network of canals and waterways which had been made through the sands, connecting the ports of emden, wilhelmshaven and cuxhaven. mysterious craft flitted about, and their own movements were carefully watched. what is this "riddle of the sands" they asked? the war gave the answer. it was a great submarine base for an attack upon england. we in liverpool have our riddle of the sands, which, although very different in character, has proved equally elusive. it has defied scientific solution, the teaching of hydrodynamics, and has from time to time almost threatened the existence of the port of liverpool, and with it the prosperity of our manufacturing districts. the approaches to the port have not been maintained (although assisted) by the use of mechanical or scientific means, but by encouraging the natural forces to do the work necessary to maintain the deep water entrances clear and serviceable. there are many now living who remember that the deep water approach to liverpool was through the rock channel only with three feet of water at low water, with dangerous and shifting shoals off the spencer spit, and the long lee shore off the west hoyle bank. if these conditions had continued the liverpool of to-day would not have existed. the development of the northern deep water approaches is an interesting study. liverpool has solved her own "riddle of the sands," not by colossal ambitious engineering schemes which might have been fatal, but by patient watchfulness of what nature was doing, or trying to do, and judiciously assisting her efforts. nature has practically closed the rock channel and the old victoria channel, and concentrated her forces and opened up the queen's channel with over 20 feet of water at low tide in the dredged cut at the bar, thus making the port open for ordinary vessels during twelve hours out of the twenty-four, and making liverpool the great port she is--the only deep water port on the west coast capable of taking such great ships as the "aquitania" and "olympic." [illustration: ss. "aquitania," 1914] the riddle of the sands as it presents itself to us, divides itself into two portions:- the sands of the upper estuary; the sands of the sea channels; each forming a very interesting and entertaining subject of inquiry. the riddle of the upper estuary we have an upper estuary of the mersey formed like a huge bottle with a narrow neck entrance at seacombe, through which the tide rushes at springs at the rate of five or six knots. at rock ferry this estuary, like a fan, spreads out to widnes, runcorn, ellesmere port, and garston. this vast basin is filled by the tidal waters twice in each day, forming a great lake; at low water we have a vista of sandbanks and water, very beautiful in their colour and light effects, the favourite haunt of wildfowl, which in olden time filled the decoys at hale and widnes. during the parliamentary inquiry into the proposal to construct the manchester ship canal, it was given in evidence that each tide brought into this bottle-necked estuary 100,000 tons of sand, which was held by the water in mechanical suspension and deposited on the banks at slack water, which takes place at the top of high water. the ebb tide carries this sand out again. about half ebb a process of erosion takes place. tidal streams form through the sand banks, and gradually underpin the sand, which falls into these streams and is carried out to sea. on a quiet summer evening the process of erosion going on can be heard at bromborough, the loud reports caused by the falling sands being distinctly audible. this riddle of the sands makes quite a fairy tale, so full of surprises, so wayward and erratic. craft and even ships which have disappeared long since suddenly come into view. the coals which fall overboard when coaling our great liners in the sloyne creep along the bottom and pile themselves on to the sandbanks, and form a welcome supply of fuel to the villagers. wells of beautiful fresh spring water bubble up on the shore at shodwell, and formerly supplied the runcorn coasters with water. at the mouth of the alt, and also at hoylake, the low tides expose the remains of two remarkable primeval forests, from which have been gathered many tokens of long bygone generations. there is one thing these sands will not do. they will not obey the dictates of man unless they conform to their moods and methods. the original scheme for the construction of the manchester ship canal proposed to cut a channel through the sands from runcorn to deep water at garston, a distance of about ten miles, protected on either side by training walls of stone. the mersey docks and harbour board very strongly and successfully opposed this part of the scheme, maintaining that by thus stereotyping the channel, the process of erosion would be destroyed and the estuary would become permanently silted up with sand. there would not be a sufficient head of water impounded each tide to keep the sea channels and approaches to the mersey scoured and fit for navigation. the magnitude of the reservoir of water gathered at high water in the upper estuary may be gauged by the fact that spring tides rise 30 feet and neap tides 20 feet, and form the mighty power for scouring the sea channels. the riddle of how to treat the upper estuary has therefore been solved by leaving nature severely alone and permitting no interference. the riddle of the outer estuary when we come to consider the conditions affecting the outward estuary, which extends from the rock light to the bar, we have to take into account not only the scouring power of the ebb tide, and its capacity as a sand carrier depending upon the force of the current and the volume of water, but also the action of waves which is very powerful in preventing the undue accumulation of sand upon our shores and upon the great sandbanks lying off the entrance to the port. standing on the shore at blundellsands at low tide and during a westerly gale, i have seen the shore from hightown to seaforth a moving mass of sand, spreading itself over the surface like a sheet. placing a stick into the ground, in a few moments a heap of sand would accumulate on the windward side. these sand storms fill up all the mouths of the alt, and pile the sand up in big banks. if there was no correcting force these sand storms would quickly fill up the shallow shores and destroy their capacity to impound the tidal water which assists the scouring power of the main stream; but at high water with a westerly gale the waves churn up these deposits of sand, and the ebb tide carries them out to sea. after a westerly gale i have seen the shores swept of loose sand down to the hard shore beneath, and the many outlets of the alt washed clean, and the black marl which forms their banks exposed. i do not think that this wave action has been sufficiently considered in selecting the shallow flats on the west side of the burbo bank as the place of deposit for the sand dredged from the bar. they are frequently violently disturbed by the action of the waves, and the sand is carried by the flood tide back again to the bar. there is another action of which we must take notice; every stream creates an eddy of slack water, or, it may be, a counter current of much reduced velocity, in a stream heavily charged with sand such as our tidal streams, and these eddies may create inconvenient deposits of sand and accretions to the banks which have to be watched. the old sea approaches having set out the natural forces we have to deal with, we will proceed to consider their effect upon the outer approaches to the river mersey. these approaches twenty-five years ago were very indifferent. the bar only carried eight feet of water at low tide, and practically for vessels of any size liverpool was a closed port for eighteen hours out of the twenty-four. by the employment of sand dredgers, which have removed millions of tons of sand, this difficulty has been overcome, but in deepening the bar the mersey docks and harbour board have greatly added to the work which the ebb tide has to do. that work has to be supplemented by the almost continuous use of sand dredgers, and has been also assisted by the construction of the revetment on the taylor bank. this has prevented the flood tide frittering its strength away over the taylor bank, and confines and concentrates the strength of the ebb stream; but still the formation of inconvenient lumps in the crosby channel suggests that the ebb tide has more than it can do. it has been suggested that by confining this channel with training walls constructed along the burbo bank and the crosby shore the power of the ebb tide would be increased. it is, however, forgotten that the effect of training walls would be to diminish the volume of water, and therefore its sand-carrying capacity, and also that training walls along the lancashire shore would rob the channel of the large amount of water now impounded at high water on the shore, which forms a valuable addition to the first part of the ebb. the changes in the outer estuary during the past fifty years have been quite remarkable. the old sea channel was the rock channel striking off to the west at the rock light, and the fairway was marked by two land marks which were prominent objects upon the bootle shore; while the hoylake and leasowe lighthouses indicated the fairway through the horse channel. the rock channel has shoaled, and is no longer used. the old victoria channel took its seaward course between the great and little burbo banks. this in process of time has shoaled and narrowed, and is no longer of any service, and the main channel pursues a north-west direction between the little burbo bank and the taylor bank, and crosses the bar through the new queen's channel. the taylor bank, which now stretches from the crosby lightship almost to the bar is of recent formation, and takes the place of the jordan flats. the rapid growth of the taylor bank no doubt induced the dock board to construct the revetment, and it has proved an effective bulwark against the rebound of the stream round askew spit, and its extension to the north seems to be desirable. the strong flood coming through the crosby channel is no doubt mainly accountable for the erosion which has taken place at hightown, and which is now taking place at hall road. the latter can be prevented by the erection of a timber groin to give a south-west direction to the flood stream. i have made these sands and sand banks a long study. the late rev. nevison loraine and i explored, in our canoes, every nook and cranny of the sand banks, and loved to bathe in the pools which formed at low water on the burbo bank; but this long experience of the riddle of the sands makes me afraid to dogmatise--nature so often rebels and does the very opposite to what you expect, and the teaching of the past tells us that she has been a good friend to liverpool, and had better be left alone, only helping her, as by the revetment, to concentrate her energy in the direction she wishes to go. a step in the same direction might be taken by closing the channel which has formed across the burbo bank. in my canoeing days this channel was a mere gutter, but now it is sufficiently large to abstract much water from the main stream. it has also often occurred to me that the old formby channel might also be diverted. it serves no useful purpose for navigation, and if the ebb tide which now flows through it could be turned into the present formby channel it would increase the scour; but experience may have demonstrated that the flood tide demands the old channel, and if so it has been wisely left open. i think it is probable that the flood tide making through this old formby channel strikes the main stream of the flood coming through the crosby channel and rebounds on to the hightown and hall road shores, causing the erosion at these points. great credit is due to the conservators, the mersey docks and harbour board, and to captain mace, r.n., for the care and wisdom with which they have watched over the approaches to our port, and to the successful way they have handled our "riddle of the sands." liverpool: lee and nightingale, printers, 15, north john street 1920. * * * * * * transcriber's note: archaic and variable spelling is preserved as printed. minor punctuation errors have been corrected. hyphenation has been made consistent. the title page shows a publication date of mimxx. this appears to be a typographical error for mcmxx and has been corrected. the following changes have been made: page 69--section title moved to follow italicised note. page 83--pervailing amended to prevailing--... old-fashioned system of cartage still prevailing. the frontispiece illustration has been moved to follow the title page. other illustrations have been moved where necessary so that they are not in the middle of a paragraph. [transcriber's note: words and phrases surrounded by underscores are italicised. there are four symbols which are denoted by : (.) circle surrounding a centred dot right ascension of the meridian; (+) circle surrounding a cross earth's central progress; (_) circle with centre dot and line under observed altitude of sun's lower limb; -(-) circle with line through true altitude. ] lectures in navigation prepared for use as a text book at the officers' material school naval auxiliary reserve by lieutenant ernest g. draper, u.s.n.r.f. head of the department of navigation officers' material school, naval auxiliary reserve copyright by ernest g. draper foreword these lectures have been compiled as speedily as possible to meet the demand for some quick but fairly comprehensive method whereby large bodies of men, divided into small classes, might learn the elements of navigation and thus assume, without delay, their responsibilities as junior officers of the deck, navigators and assistant navigators in the united states naval auxiliary reserve. i realize that the haste with which the book has been written is apparent in many places, and it is hoped that many evidences of this haste will disappear in case further editions are printed. besides acknowledging the help and information which was secured from the list of navigational works, mentioned on another page, i wish to mention particularly prof. charles lane poor's book, entitled "nautical science," from which was secured practically all of the information in the lecture on planets and stars (tuesday--week v); commander w. c. p. muir's book, "navigation and compass deviations," and lieutenant w. j. henderson's book, "elements of navigation," the text of which was followed closely in discussing variation and deviation and traverse sailing. i desire to express my gratitude to lieutenant commander r. t. merrill, 2nd, u. s. n., for suggesting a detailed outline of the whole course; to lieutenant commander b. o. wills, u. s. n., for his valuable criticisms and almost daily help during the preparation of these lectures; to lieutenant (j. g.) c. d. draper, u. s. n. r. f.; lieutenant (j. g.) r. brush, u. s. n. r. f., and lieutenant (j. g.) p. c. mcpherson, u. s. n. r. f., for many criticisms and suggestions; and to captain huntington, seamen's church institute, for suggesting helpful diagrams, particularly the one on page 44. this opportunity is also taken for thanking the many instructors in the school for their opinions on various questions that have come up in connection with the course and for assistance in eliminating errors from the text. e. g. d. list of books consulted american practical navigator, bowditch navigation and compass deviations, muir nautical science, poor elements of navigation, henderson wrinkles in practical navigation, lecky whys and wherefores of navigation, bradford epitome of navigation, norie navigation, hosmer finding a ship's position at sea, sumner general astronomy, young preface to those taking this course in navigation: these lectures have been written with the idea of explaining, in as simple language as possible, the fundamental elements of navigation as set forth in bowditch's american practical navigator. they will be given you during the time at the training school devoted to this subject. at present this time includes two morning periods of one and a half hours each, separated by a recess of fifteen minutes. in general the plan is to devote the first period to the lecture and the second period to practical work. not many examples for practical work have been included in this book, but one example, illustrating each new method, has been worked out. if you understand these examples you should be able to understand others similar to them. toward the end of the course a portion of each second period will be devoted to handling the sextant, work with charts, taking sights, etc. in short, every effort will be made to duplicate, as nearly as possible, navigating conditions on board a modern merchant ship. department of navigation, _officers' material school_, _naval auxiliary reserve_ contents week i--piloting _tuesday_--the compass 1 _wednesday_--pelorus; parallel rulers; the lead, sounding machine, dividers and log 6 _thursday_--the chart 10 _friday_--the protractor and sextant 13 _saturday_--fixes, angles by bearings and sextant 16 week ii--dead reckoning _tuesday_--latitude and longitude 20 _wednesday_--useful tables--plane and traverse sailing 23 _thursday_--examples on plane and traverse sailing (continued) 27 _friday_--mercator sailing 28 _saturday_--great circle sailing--the chronometer 30 week iii--celestial navigation _tuesday_--celestial co-ordinates, equinoctial system, etc. 34 _wednesday_--time by the sun--mean time, solar time, conversion, etc. 36 _thursday_--sidereal time--right ascension 43 _friday_--the nautical almanac 47 _saturday_--correction of observed altitudes 52 week iv--navigation _tuesday_--the line of position 55 _wednesday_--latitude by meridian altitude 58 _thursday_--azimuths of the sun 61 _friday_---marc st. hilaire method by a sun sight 63 _saturday_--examples on marc st. hilaire method by a sun sight 66 week v--navigation _tuesday_--a short talk on the planets and stars--identification of stars--time of meridian passage of a star 66 _wednesday_--latitude by meridian altitude of a star--latitude by polaris 73 _thursday_--marc st. hilaire method by a star sight 74 _friday_--examples: latitude by meridian altitude of a star; latitude by polaris; marc st. hilaire method by a star sight 75 _saturday_--longitude by chronometer sight of the sun 76 week vi--navigation _tuesday_--longitude by chronometer sight of a star 79 _wednesday_--examples on longitude by chronometer sight of a star 80 _thursday_--latitude by ex-meridian altitude of the sun 81 _friday_--examples: latitude by ex-meridian altitude of the sun 83 _saturday_--finding the watch time of local apparent noon 83 week vii--navigation _tuesday_--compass error by an azimuth 88 _wednesday_--correcting longitude by a factor 89 _thursday_--the navigator's routine--a day's work at sea 91 _friday_--day's work 105 _saturday_--day's work 105 week viii--navigation _monday to thursday_--day's work 107-108 _additional lecture_--compass adjustment 109 week i--piloting tuesday lecture the compass everyone is supposed to know what a compass looks like. it is marked in two ways--the old way and the new way. put in your note-book this diagram: [illustration] the new way marked on the outside of the diagram, starts at north with 0°, increases toward the right through east at 90°, south at 180°, west at 270° and back to north again at 360° or 0°. the old way, marked on the inside of the diagram, starts at north with 0°, goes to the right to 90° at east and to the left to 90° at west. it also starts at south with 0°, goes to the right to east at 90° and to the left to west at 90°. a compass course can be named in degrees, according to either the new or old way. for instance, the new way is just 45°. the old way for the same course is n 45° e. new way--100°. old way for same course--s 80° e. there is another way to name a compass course. it is by using the name of the point toward which the ship is heading. on every ship the compass is placed with the lubber line (a vertical black line on the compass bowl) vertical and in the keel line of the ship. the lubber line, therefore, will always represent the bow of the ship, and the point on the compass card nearest the lubber line will be the point toward which the ship is heading. the compass card of 360° is divided into 32 points. each point, therefore, represents 11-1/4°. the four principal points are called _cardinal_ points. they are--north, east, south, west. each cardinal point is 90° from the one immediately adjacent to it. it is also 8 points from the one adjacent to it, as 90° is 8 points, i.e., 11-1/4° (one point) times 8. midway between the cardinal points are the inter-cardinal points. they are--n e, s e, s w, n w, and are 45° or 4 points from the nearest cardinal point. midway between each cardinal and inter-cardinal point--at an angular distance of 22-1/2° or 2 points, is a point named by combining a cardinal point with an inter-cardinal point. for instance, nne, ene, ese, sse, ssw, wsw, wnw, nnw. midway between the last points named and a cardinal or inter-cardinal point, at an angular distance of 11-1/4°, is a point which bears the name of that cardinal or inter-cardinal point joined by the word _by_ to that of the cardinal point nearest to it. as, for instance, n by e, e by n, e by s, s by e, s by w, w by s, w by n, n by w. also ne x n, ne x e, se x e, se x s, sw x s, sw x w, nw x w, nw x n. the angular distance between each and every whole point is divided into 4 parts called half and quarter points and each representing an angular measure of approximately 2° 49'. in mentioning fractional points, the u. s. navy regulations are to name each point from north and south toward east and west except that divisions adjacent to a cardinal or inter-cardinal point are always referred to that point: for instance, n 1/2 e, n x e 1/2 e, ne 1/2 n, nw 1/2 n, nw 1/4 w, nw 3/4 w, nw 1/4 n. boxing the compass is naming each point and quarter-point in rotation, i.e., starting at north and going around to the right back to north again. every man should be able to identify and name any point or quarter-point on the compass card. in changing a point course into a degree course, for either new or old compass, a guide is herewith furnished you. this should be pasted into the front of your bowditch epitome. it shows, from left to right, the name of the point course, its angular measure in the new compass and its angular measure in the old compass. it also shows at the bottom, the angular measure of each division of one point. in understanding this guide, remember that each course is expressed in degrees or degrees and minutes. put in your note-book: in navigation, each degree is written thus °. each fraction of a degree is expressed in minutes and written thus '. there are 60' in each degree. each fraction of a minute is expressed in seconds and is written ". there are 60" in each minute. four degrees, ten minutes and thirty seconds would be written thus: 4° 10' 30". although this guide just given you is given as an aid to quickly transfer a point course into a new or old compass course--or vice versa--you should learn to do this yourself, after awhile, without the guide. put in your note-book: --------------+-----------+------------+------------- ship's head | new | old | by point --------------+-----------+------------+------------- ne | 45° | n 45° e | ne 90° | 90° | n 90° e | east se × e | 123° 45' | s 56° e | se × e s 20° e | 160° | s 20° e | s x e 3/4 e s 2 pts. e | 157° 30' | s 22° 30' e| sse nw 3/4 w | 306° 34' | n 53° w | nw 3/4 w 289° 41' | 289° 41' | n 70° w | wnw 1/4 w --------------+-----------+------------+-------------i will show you just how each one of these courses is secured from the guide just given you. note to instructor: after explaining these courses in detail, assign for reading _in the class room_ the following articles in bowditch: arts. 25-26-27-28-29-30-31-32, 74-75-76-77-78-79-80-81-82. every compass, if correct, would have its needle point directly to the real or _true_ north. but practically no compass with which you will become familiar will be correct. it will have an error in it due to the magnetism of the earth. this is called variation. it will also have an error in it due to the magnetism of the iron in the ship. this is called deviation. you are undoubtedly familiar with the fact that the earth is a huge magnet and that the magnets in a compass are affected thereby. in other words, the north and south magnetic poles, running through the center of the earth, do not point true north and south. they point at an angle either east or west of the north and south. the amount of this angle in any one spot on the earth is the amount of variation at that spot. in navigating a ship you must take into account the amount of this variation. the amount of allowance to be made and the direction (i.e. either east or west) in which it is to be applied are usually indicated on the chart. on large charts, such as those of the north atlantic, will be found irregular lines running over the chart, and having beside them such notations as 10° w, 15° w, etc. some lines are marked "no variation." in such cases no allowance need be made. on harbor charts or other small charts, the variation is shown by the compass-card printed on the chart. the north point of this card will be found slewed around from the point marking true north and in the compass card will be some such inscription as this: "variation 9° west in 1914. increasing 6' per year." now let us see how we apply this variation so that although our compass needle does not point to true north, we can make a correction which will give us our true course in spite of the compass reading. note these diagrams: [illustration] the outer circle represents the sea horizon with the long arrow pointing to true north. the inner circle represents the compass card. in the diagram to the left, the compass needle is pointing three whole points to the left or west of true north. in other words, if your compass said you were heading ne x n, you would not actually be heading ne x n. you would be heading true north. [illustration] in other words, standing in the center of the compass and looking toward the circumference, you would find that every true course you sailed would be three points to the _left_ of the compass course. that is called westerly variation. now look at the diagram to the right. the compass needle is pointing three whole points to the right or east of true north. in other words, standing in the center of the compass and looking toward the circumference, you would find that every true course you sailed would be three points to the _right_ of the compass course. that is called easterly variation. hence we have these rules, which put in your note-book: _to convert a compass course into a true course_ when the variation is westerly, the true course will be as many points to the left of the compass course as there are points or degrees of variation. when the variation is easterly, the true course will be as many points or degrees to the right of the compass course. _to convert a true course into a compass course_ the converse of the above rule is true. in other words, variation westerly, compass to the right of true course; variation easterly, compass course to the left. deviation as stated before, deviation causes an error in the compass due to the magnetism of the iron in the ship. when a ship turns, the compass card does not turn, but the relation of the iron's magnetism to the magnets in the compass is altered. hence, every change in course causes a new amount of deviation which must be allowed for in correcting the compass reading. it is customary in merchant vessels to have the compasses adjusted while the ship is in port. the adjuster tries to counteract the deviation all he can by magnets, and then gives the master of the ship a table of the deviation errors remaining. these tables are not to be depended upon, as they are only accurate for a short time. ways will be taught you to find the deviation yourself, and those ways are the only ones you can depend upon. put in your note-book: westerly deviation is applied exactly as westerly variation. easterly deviation is applied exactly as easterly variation. the amount of variation plus the amount of deviation is called the compass error. for instance, a variation of 10° w plus a deviation of 5° w equals a compass error of 15° w, or a variation of 10° w plus a deviation of 5° e leaves a net compass error of 5° w. leeway leeway is not an error of the compass, but it has to be compensated for in steaming any distance. hence it is mentioned here. a ship steaming with a strong wind or current abeam, will slide off to the leeward more or less. hence, her course will have to be corrected for leeway as well as for variation and deviation. put in your note-book: leeway on the starboard tack is the same as westerly variation. leeway on the port tack is the same as easterly variation. this is apparent from the following diagram: [illustration] as the wind, blowing from the north, hits the left hand ship, for instance, on her starboard side, it shoves the ship to the left of her true course by the number of points or degrees of leeway. leave a space and put the following heading in your note-book: i. complete rule for converting a compass course into a true course: 1. change the compass course into a new compass reading. 2. apply easterly variation and deviation +. 3. apply westerly variation and deviation -. 4. apply port tack leeway +. 5. apply starboard tack leeway -. ii. complete rule for converting a true course into a compass course: 1. reverse the above signs in applying each correction. i will now correct a few courses, and these are to be put into your note-book: ---------+------+-------------+--------+--------+-------+-------- c cos | wind | leeway | dev. | var. | new | old ---------+------+-------------+--------+--------+-------+-------- n x e | nw | 1/2 pt. | 5° e | 10° w | 12° | n 12° e s 67° e | s | 1 pt. | 3° w | 5° e | 104° | s 76° e e x n | se | 1/2 pt. | 5° w | 10° e | 78° | n 78° e w x n | nw | 1-1/2 pts. | 1° e | 15° e | 280° | n 80° w ---------+------+-------------+--------+--------+-------+--------assign for night work the following arts. in bowditch: 36-8-10-13-14-15-16-17-18-19-20-21-22-23-24. wednesday lecture pelorus, parallel rulers, the lead, sounding machine, dividers and log _i. the pelorus_ this is an instrument for taking bearings of distant objects, and for taking bearings of celestial bodies such as the sun, stars, etc. it consists of a circular, flat metallic ring, mounted on gimbals, upon a vertical standard. the best point to mount it is in the bow or on the bridge of the ship, where a clear view for taking bearings can be had. the center line of the pelorus should also be directly over the keel line of the ship. the inner edge of the metallic ring is engraved in degrees--the 0° or 360° and the 180° marks indicating a fore-and-aft line parallel to the keel of the ship. within this ring a ground glass dial is pivoted. this ground glass dial has painted upon it a compass card divided into points and sub-divisions and into 360°. this dial is capable of being moved around, but can also be clamped to the outside ring. pivoted with the glass dial and flat ring is a horizontal bar carrying at both of its extremes a sight vane. this sight vane can be clamped in any position independently of the ground glass dial, which can be moved freely beneath it. an indicator showing the direction the sight vane points can be read upon the compass card on the glass dial. if the glass dial be revolved until the degree of demarcation, which is coincident with the right ahead marking on the flat ring, is the same as that which points to the lubber's line of the ship's compass, then all directions indicated by the glass dial will be parallel to the corresponding directions of the ship's compass, and all bearings taken will be compass bearings, i.e., as though taken from the compass itself. in other words, it is just as though you took the compass out of its place in the pilot house, or wherever it is regularly situated, put it down where the pelorus is, and took a bearing from it of any object desired. in taking a bearing by pelorus, two facts must be kept in mind. first, that when the bearing is taken, the exact heading, as shown by the ship's compass, is the heading shown by the pelorus. in other words, if the ship is heading nw, the pelorus must be set with the nw point on the lubber line when the bearing is taken of any object. second, it must be remembered that the bearing of any object obtained from the pelorus is the bearing _by compass_. to get the true bearing of the same object you must make the proper corrections for variation and deviation. this can be compensated for by setting the glass dial at a point to the right or left of the compass heading to correspond with the compass error; then the bearing of any object will be the true bearing. but naturally, you will not be able to make compensation for these errors unless you have immediately before found the correct amount of the compass error. _parallel rulers_ the parallel rulers need no explanation except for the way in which they are used on a chart. supposing, for instance, you wish to steam from pelham bay to the red buoy off the westerly end of great captain's island. take your chart, mark by a pencil point the place left and the place to go to and draw a straight line intersecting these two points. now place the parallel rulers along that line and slide them over until the nearest edge intersects the center of the compass rose at the bottom or side of the chart. look along the ruler's edge to find where it cuts the circumference of the compass rose. that point on the compass rose will be the _true_ compass course, and can be expressed in either the new or old compass, as, for instance, 60° or n 60° e. remember, however, that this is the _true_ course. in order to change it into the compass course of your ship, you must make the proper corrections for the compass error, i.e., variation and deviation and for leeway, if any. _the lead and sounding machine_ the lead, as you know, is used to ascertain the depth of the water and, when necessary, the character of the bottom. there are two kinds of leads: the hand lead and deep-sea lead. the first weighs from 7 to 14 pounds and has markings to 25 fathoms. the second weighs from 30 to 100 pounds and is used in depths up to and over 100 fathoms. put in your note-book: fathoms which correspond with the depths marked are called _marks_. all other depths are called _deeps_. the hand lead is marked as follows: 2 fathoms--2 strips of leather. 3 fathoms--3 strips of leather or blue rag. 5 fathoms--a white rag. 7 fathoms--a red rag. 10 fathoms--a piece of leather with one hole in it. 13 fathoms--same as at 3. 15 fathoms--same as at 5. 17 fathoms--same as at 7. 20 fathoms--2 knots or piece of leather with 2 holes. 25 fathoms--1 knot. 30 fathoms--3 knots. 35 fathoms--1 knot. 40 fathoms--4 knots. and so on up to 100 fathoms. the large hand leads are hollowed out on the lower end so that an "arming" of tallow can be put in. this will bring up a specimen of the bottom, which should be compared with the description found on the chart. all up-to-date sea-going ships should be fitted with sir william thompson's sounding machine (see picture in b. j. manual). this machine consists of a cylinder around which are wound about 300 fathoms of piano wire. to the end of this is attached a heavy lead. an index on the side of the instrument records the number of fathoms of wire paid out. above the lead is a copper cylindrical case in which is placed a glass tube open only at the bottom and chemically colored inside. the pressure of the sea forces water up into this tube, as it goes down, a distance proportionate to the depth, and the color is removed. when hoisted, the tube is laid upon a prepared scale, and the height to which the water has been forced inside shows the depth in fathoms on the scale. dividers the dividers are nothing but an instrument for measuring distances, etc., on the chart. the log there are two kinds of logs--the chip log, used for measuring the speed of the ship, and the patent log, used for measuring distance run. the chip log consists of a reel, line, toggle and chip. usually a second glass is used for measuring time. the chip is the triangular piece of wood ballasted with lead to ride point up. the toggle is a little wooden case into which a peg, joining the ends of the two lower lines of the bridle, is set in such a way that a jerk on the line will free it, causing the log to lie flat so that it can be hauled in. the first 10 or 15 fathoms of line from the log-chip are called "stray line," and the end of this is distinguished by a mark of red bunting. its purpose is to let the chip get clear of the vessel's wake. the marks on the line (called knots) are pieces of fish line running through the strands of the reel line to the number of two, three, four, etc. a piece of white bunting marks every two-tenths of a knot. this is because the run of the ship is recorded in knots and tenths. the knots of fish line are 47 feet 4 inches from each other. the log glass measures 28 seconds in time. for high rates of speed, a 14 second glass is used. then the number of knots shown by the log line must be doubled. the principle of the chip log is that each division of the log line bears the same ratio to a nautical mile that the log glass does to the hour. in other words, if 10 knots or divisions of the log line run out while the 28 second glass empties itself, the ship's speed is 10 knots per hour. if ten knots or divisions run out while the 14 second glass empties itself, the ship's speed is 20 knots per hour. the patent or towing log consists of a dial, line and rotator. the large circle of the dial records the knots and the small circle tenths of knots. when changing course, read the log and enter it in the log book. when changing course again, read the log again. the difference between the two readings will be the distance run. both logs are liable to error. a following sea makes them under-rate, a head sea over-rate. with both logs you must allow for currents. if a current is against you--and you know its rate--you must deduct its rate from that recorded in the log and vice versa. the reason for this is that your log measures your speed through the water. what you must find is your actual distance made good over the earth's surface. put in your note-book: between sandy hook and fort hamilton, bound due north, speed by chip-log was 10 knots, tidal current setting north 2 knots per hour; what did the ship make per hour? answer: 12 knots. at sea in north sea ship heading s x w, patent log bet. 8 a.m. and 12 m. registered 32 miles, current running n x e 2 knots per hour; what was the actual distance made good? answer: 24 miles. directions for allowing for a current setting diagonally across a ship's course will be given in the proper place. assign for night work the following articles in bowditch: arts. 161-162-163-164-165. thursday lecture the chart _aids to navigation_ a chart is a map of an ocean, bay, sound or other navigable water. it shows the character of the coast, heights of mountains, depths at low water, direction and velocity of tidal currents, location, character, height and radius of visibility of all beacon lights, location of rocks, shoals, buoys, and nature of the bottom wherever soundings can be obtained. the top of the chart is north unless otherwise noted. when in doubt as to where north is, consult the compass card printed somewhere on the chart. on sea charts, such as those of the north atlantic, only the true compass is printed, with the amount and direction of variation indicated by lines on the chart. parallels of latitude are shown by straight lines running parallel to each other across the chart. the degrees and minutes of these parallels are given on the perpendicular border of the chart. meridians of longitude are shown by straight lines running up and down, perpendicular to the parallels of latitude, and the degrees and minutes of these meridians are given on the horizontal border of the chart. put in your note-book: a minute of latitude is always a mile, because parallels of latitude are equidistant at all places. a minute of longitude is a mile only on the equator, for the meridians are coming closer to each other as they converge toward either pole. they come together at the north and south poles, and here there is no longitude. * * * * * i can explain this very easily by reference to the following illustration: [illustration] as every parallel of latitude is a circle of 360° the distance from a to b will be the same number of degrees, minutes and seconds whether measured upon parallel aa' or ee', but it will not be the same number of miles as the meridians of longitude are gradually converging toward the poles. on the other hand, the distances from a to c, c to d, d to e, etc., must be the same because the lines aa', cc', dd', ee' are all parallel. that is why the distance is always measured on the latitude scale (i.e. on the vertical border of the chart), and a minute of latitude is always a mile on the chart, no matter in what locality your ship happens to be. you should be able to understand any kind of information given you on a chart. for instance, what are the various kinds of buoys and how are they marked? put in your note-book: 1. in coming from seaward, red buoys mark the starboard side of the channel, and black buoys the port side. 2. dangers and obstructions which may be passed on either hand are marked by buoys with red and black horizontal stripes. 3. buoys indicating the fairway are marked with black and white vertical stripes and should be passed close to. 4. sunken wrecks are marked by red and black striped buoys described in no. 2. in foreign countries green buoys are frequently used to mark sunken wrecks. 5. quarantine buoys are yellow. 6. as white buoys have no especial significance, they are frequently used for special purposes not connected with navigation. 7. starboard and port buoys are numbered from the seaward end of the channel, the black bearing the odd and red bearing the even numbers. 8. perches with balls, cages, etc., will, when placed on buoys, be at turning points, the color and number indicating on which side they shall be passed. 9. soundings in plain white are in fathoms; those on shaded parts are in feet. on large ocean charts fathom curves, showing the range of soundings of 10, 20, 30, 40, etc., fathoms are shown. 10. a light is indicated by a red and yellow spot. f. means fixed, fl., flashing; int., intermittent; rev., revolving, etc. 11. an arrow indicates a current and its direction. the speed is always given. 12. rocks just under water are shown by a cross surrounded by a dotted circle; rocks above water, by a dotted circle with dots inside it. practically all charts you will use will be called mercator charts. just how they are constructed is a difficult mathematical affair but, roughly, the idea of their construction is based upon the earth being a cylinder, instead of a sphere. hence, the meridians of longitude, instead of converging at the poles, are parallel lines. this compels the parallels of latitude to be adjusted correspondingly. although such a chart in any one locality is out of proportion compared with some distant part of the earth's surface, it is nevertheless in proportion for the distance you can travel in a day or possibly a week--and that is all you desire. the hydrographic office publishes blank mercator charts for all latitudes in which they can be used for plotting your position. it makes no difference what longitude you are in for, on a mercator chart, meridians of longitude are all marked parallel. it makes a great difference, however, what latitude you are in, as in each a mile is of different length on the chart. hence, it will be impossible for you to correctly plot your course and distance sailed unless you have a chart which shows on it the degrees of latitude in which you are. for instance, if your mercator chart shows parallels of latitude from 30° to 40° that chart must be used when you are in one of those latitudes. when you move into 41° or 29°, you must be sure to change your plotting chart accordingly. in very high latitudes and near the north pole, the mercator chart is worthless. how can you steer for the north pole when the meridians of your chart never come together at any pole? for the same reason, bearings of distant objects may be slightly off when laid down on this chart in a straight line. on the whole, however, the mercator chart answers the mariner's needs so far as all practical purposes are concerned. the instruments used in consulting a chart, i.e., parallel rulers, dividers, etc. have already been described. the only way to lay down a course and read it is by practice. the one important thing to remember in laying down a course, is that what you lay down is a true course. to steam this course yourself, you must make the proper correction for your compass error. assign for night work in bowditch, arts. 9-239-240-241-243-244-245-246-247-248-249-251-252-253-254-255-256-257-258. if any time in class room is left, spend it in laying down courses on the chart and reading them; also in answering such questions as these: 1. i desire to sail a true course of ne. my compass error is 2 points westerly variation and 1 point easterly deviation. what compass course shall i sail? 2. i desire to sail a true course of sw x w. my variation is 11° w, deviation 2 pts. w and leeway 1 pt. starboard. what compass course shall i sail? 3. i desire to sail a true course of 235°. my compass error is 4 pts. e variation, 27° w deviation, leeway 1 pt. port. what compass course shall i sail? 4. i desire to sail a true course of s 65° w. my compass error is 10° e variation, 3° e deviation, leeway 1/4 point starboard. what compass course shall i sail? friday lecture the protractor and sextant the protractor is an instrument used to shape long courses. there are many kinds. the simplest and the one most in use is merely a piece of transparent celluloid with a compass card printed on it and a string attached to the center of the compass card. to find your course by protractor, put the protractor down on the chart so that the north and south line on the compass card of the protractor will be immediately over a meridian of longitude on the chart, or be exactly parallel to one, and will intersect the point from which you intend to depart. then stretch your string along the course you desire to steam. where this string cuts the compass card, will be the direction of your course. remember, however, that this will be the _true_ course to sail. in order to convert this true course into your compass course, allow for variation and deviation according to the rules already given you. in case you know the exact amount of variation and deviation at the time you lay down the course--and your course is not far--you can get your compass course in one operation by setting the north point of your protractor as far east or west of the meridian as the amount of your compass error is. by then proceeding as before, the course indicated on the compass card will be the compass course to sail. this method should not be used where your course in one direction is long or where your course is short but in two or more directions. the reason for this is that in both cases, either your variation or deviation may change and throw you off. practically all navigation in strange waters in sight of land and in all waters out of sight of land depends upon the determination of angles. the angle at which a lighthouse is seen from your ship will give you much information that may be absolutely necessary for your safety. the angular altitude of the sun, star or planet does the same. the very heart of navigation is based upon dealing with angles of all kinds. the instrument, therefore, that measures these angles is the most important of any used in navigation and you must become thoroughly familiar with it. it is the sextant or some member of the sextant family--such as the quadrant, octant, etc. the sextant is the one most in use and so will be described first. put in your note-book: the sextant has the following parts: (instructor points to each.) 1. mirror 2. telescope 3. horizon glass 4. shade glasses 5. back shade glasses 6. handle 7. sliding limb 8. reading glass 9. tangent screw 10. arc in getting angles of land-marks or buoys, the sextant is held by the handle no. 6 in a horizontal position. the vernier arrow in the sliding limb is set on zero. now, suppose you wish to get the angular distance between two lighthouses as seen from the bridge of your ship. (draw diagram.) [illustration] look at one lighthouse through the line of sight and true horizon part of the horizon glass. now, move the sliding limb along the arc gradually until you see the other lighthouse in the reflected horizon of the horizon glass. when one lighthouse in the true horizon is directly on top of the other lighthouse in the reflected horizon, clamp the sliding limb. if any additional adjustment must be made, make it with the tangent screw no. 9. now look through the reading glass no. 8. you should see that the arc is divided into degrees and sixths of degrees in the following manner: 11° 10° | | -------------+-----------------| | | ----|--+--+--+--+--+--|--+--+--+ | | | | | | | | | | ----+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+--+ now, as every degree is divided into sixty minutes, one-sixth of a degree is 10 minutes. in other words, each of the divisions of a degree on this arc represents 10 minutes. now on the vernier in the sliding limb, directly under the arc, is the same kind of a division. but these divisions on the vernier represent minutes and sixths of a minute, or 10 seconds. to read the angle, the zero point on the vernier is used as a starting point. if it exactly coincides with one of the lines on the scale of the arc, that line gives the measurement of the angle. in the following illustration the angle is 10-1/2 degrees or 10° 30': 10° 9° ----------------+-----------------------+ | | ---------|---+---+---|---+---+---|---+---+---| | | | | | | | | | | -+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+---+ | | ^ ----+---+---+ 0 if however, you find the zero on the vernier has passed a line of the arc, your angle is more than 10° 30' as in this: 11° 10° ------------+-----------------------+ | | ------------|---+---+---|---+---+---| | | | | | | | ------------+---+---+---+---+---+---+ | | | ^ ------------+---+---+---+ 0 you must then look along the vernier to the left until you find the point where the lines do coincide. then add the number of minutes and sixths of a minute shown on the vernier between zero and the point where the lines coincide to the number of degrees and minutes shown on the arc at the line which the vernier zero has passed, and the sum will be the angle measured by the instrument. now in measuring the altitude of the sun or other celestial body, exactly the same process is gone through except that the sextant is held vertically instead of horizontally. you look through the telescope toward that part of the sea directly beneath the celestial body to be observed. you then move the sliding limb until the image of the celestial body appears in the horizon glass, and is made to "kiss" the horizon, i.e., its lowest point just touching the horizon. the sliding limb is then screwed down and the angle read. more about this will be mentioned when we come to celestial navigation. every sextant is liable to be in error. to detect this error there are four adjustments to be made. these adjustments do not need to be learned by heart, but i will mention them: 1. the mirror must be perpendicular to the plane of the arc. to prove whether it is or not, set the vernier on about 60°, and look slantingly through the mirror. if the true and reflected images of the arc coincide, no adjustment is necessary. if not, the glass must be straightened by turning the screws at the back. 2. the horizon glass must be perpendicular to the plane of the arc. set the vernier on zero and look slantingly through the horizon glass. if the true and reflected horizons show one unbroken line, no adjustment is necessary. if not, turn the screw at the back until they do. 3. horizon glass and mirror must be parallel. set the vernier on zero. hold the instrument vertically and look through the line of sight and horizon glass. if the true and reflected horizons coincide, no adjustment is necessary. if they do not, adjust the horizon glass. 4. the line of sight (telescope) must be parallel to the plane of the arc. this adjustment is verified by observing two stars in a certain way and then performing other operations that are described in bowditch, art. 247. do not try to adjust your sextant yourself. have it adjusted by an expert on shore. then, if there is any error, allow for it. an error after adjustment is called the index error. put in your note-book: how to find and apply the ie (index error): set the sliding limb at zero on the arc, hold the instrument perpendicularly and look at the horizon. move the sliding limb forward or backward slowly until the true horizon and reflected horizon form one unbroken line. clamp the limb and read the angle. this is the ie. if the vernier zero is to the left of the zero on the arc, the ie is minus and it is to be subtracted from any angle you read, to get the correct angle. if the vernier zero is to the right of the zero on the arc, the ie is plus and is to be added to any angle you read to get the correct angle. index error is expressed thus: ie + 2' 30" or ie 2' 30". quadrants, octants and quintants work on exactly the same principles as the sextant, except that the divisions on the arc and the vernier differ in number from the sixth divisions on the arc and vernier of the sextant. if any time is left, spend it in marking courses with the protractor and handling the sextant. assign for night work the following arts. in bowditch: 134-135-136-138-142-144-145-151-152-157-158-159-160-161-162-163. saturday lecture fixes, angles by bearings and sextant there are five good ways of fixing your position (obtaining a "fix," as it is called) providing you are within sight of landmarks which you can identify or in comparatively shoal water. put in your note-book: 1. cross bearings of two known objects. 2. bearing and distance of a known object, the height of which is known. 3. two bearings of a known object separated by an interval of time, with a run during that interval. 4. sextant angles between three known objects. 5. using the compass, log and lead in a fog or in unfamiliar waters. 1. cross bearings of two known objects. select two objects marked on the chart, so far apart that each will bear about 45° off your bow but in opposite directions. these bearings will be secured in the best way by the use of your pelorus. correct each bearing for variation and deviation so that it will be a true bearing. then with the parallel rulers carry the bearing of one object from the chart compass card until you can intersect the object itself and draw a line through it. do exactly the same with the other object. where the two lines intersect, will be the position of the ship at the time the bearings were taken. [illustration] now supposing you wish to find the latitude and longitude of that position of the ship. for the latitude, measure the distance of the place from the nearest parallel with the dividers. take the dividers to the latitude scale at the side of the chart and put one point of them on the same parallel. where the other point touches on the latitude scale, will be the latitude desired. for the longitude, do exactly the same thing, but use a meridian of longitude instead of a parallel of latitude and read from the longitude scale at the top or bottom of the chart instead of from the side. 2. bearing and distance of a known object, the height of which is known. take a bearing of, say, a lighthouse the height of which is known. the height of all lighthouses on the atlantic coast can be found in a book published by the u.s. dept. of commerce. correct the bearing, as mentioned in case no. 1. now read the angle of the height of that light by using your sextant. do this by putting the vernier 0 on the arc 0, sliding the limb slowly forward until the top of the lighthouse in the reflected horizon just touches the bottom of the lighthouse in the true horizon. with this angle and the known height of the light, enter table 33 in bowditch. at the left of the table will be found the distance off in knots. this method can be used with any fairly perpendicular object, the height of which is known and which is not more than 5 knots away, as table 33 is not made out for greater distances. 3. two bearings of the same object, separated by an interval of time and with a run during that interval. take a compass bearing of some prominent object when it is either 2, 3 or 4 points off the bow. take another bearing of the same object when it is either 4, 6 or 8 points off the bow. the distance run by the ship between the two bearings will be her distance from the observed object at the second bearing. "the distance run is the distance off." a diagram will show clearly just why this is so: [illustration] the ship at a finds the light bearing nnw 2 points off her bow. at b, when the light bears nw and 4 points off, the log registers the distance from a to b 9 miles. 9 miles, then, will be the distance from the light itself when the ship is at b. the mathematical reason for this is that the distance run is one side of an isosceles triangle. such triangles have their two sides of equal length. for that reason, the distance run is the distance off. now the same fact holds true in running from b, which is 4 points off the bow, to c, which is 8 points off the bow, or directly abeam. the log shows the distance run between b and c is 6.3 miles. hence, the ship is 6.3 miles from the light when directly abeam of it. this last 4 and 8 point bearing is what is known as the "bow and beam" bearing, and is the standard method used in coastwise navigation. any one of these methods is of great value in fixing your position with relation to the land, when you are about to go to sea. 4. sextant angles between three known objects. this method is the most accurate of all. because of its precision it is the one used by the government in placing buoys, etc. take three known objects such as a, b and c which are from 30° to 60° from each other. [illustration] with a sextant, read the angle from a to b and from b to c. place a piece of transparent paper over the compass card and draw three lines from the center of the compass card to the circumference in such a way that the angles secured by the sextant will be formed by the three lines drawn. now take this paper with the angles on it and fit it on the chart so that the three objects of which angles were taken will be intersected by the three lines on the paper. where the point s is (in my diagram) will be the point of the ship's position at the time of sight. to secure greater accuracy the two angles should be taken at the same time by two observers. 5. using a compass, log and lead when you are in a fog or unfamiliar waters. supposing that you are near land and want to fix your position but have no landmarks which you can recognize. here is a method to help you out: take a piece of tracing paper and rule a vertical line on it. this will represent a meridian of longitude. take casts of the lead at regular intervals, noting the time at which each is taken, and the distance logged between each two. the compass corrected for variation and deviation will show your course. rule a line on the tracing paper in the direction of your course, using the vertical line as a n and s meridian. measure off on the course line by the scale of miles in your chart, the distance run between casts and opposite each one note the time, depth ascertained and, if possible, nature of the bottom. now lay this paper down on the chart which can be seen under it, in about the position you believe yourself in when you made the first cast. if your chain of soundings agrees with those on the chart, you are all right. if not, move the paper about, keeping the vertical line due n and s, till you find the place on the chart that does agree with you. that is your line of position. you will never find in that locality any other place where the chain of soundings are the same on the same course you are steaming. this is the only method by soundings that you can use in thick weather and it is an invaluable one. put in your note-book this diagram: 10 \ 8.30a.m. | 12 \ 9.00a.m. | 13 \ 10a.m. | 13-1/2 \ 10.30a.m. | 14 \ 11a.m. | 14-3/4 \ 11.30a.m. | assign for night work, review for weekly examination to be held on monday. add an explanation of the deviation card in bowditch, page 41. put in your note-book: entering new york harbor, ship heading w 3/4 n, variation 9° w. observed by pelorus the following objects: buoy no. 1--ene 1/4 e " " 2--e 1/2 n " " 3--ne 1/4 e " " 4--nw 1/4 n required true bearings of objects observed. answer: from deviation card in bowditch, p. 41, deviation on w 3/4 n course is 5° e. hence, compass error is 5° e (dev.) + 9° w (var.) = 4° w. c. b. c. e. t. b. ene 1/4 e 70° 4° w 66° e 1/2 n 84° 4° w 80° ne 1/4 e 48° 4° w 44° nw 1/4 n 318° 4° w 314° week ii--dead reckoning tuesday lecture latitude and longitude [illustration] we have been using the words latitude and longitude a good deal since this course began. let us see just what the words mean. before doing that, there are a few facts to keep in mind about the earth itself. the earth is a spheroid slightly flattened at the poles. the axis of the earth is a line running through the center of the earth and intersecting the surface of the earth at the poles. the equator is the great circle, formed by the intersection of the earth's surface with a plane perpendicular to the earth's axis and equidistant from the poles. every point on the equator is, therefore, 90° from each pole. meridians are great circles formed by the intersection with the earth´s surface of planes perpendicular to the equator. parallels of latitude are small circles parallel to the equator. the latitude of a place on the surface of the earth is the arc of the meridian intercepted between the equator and that place. it is measured by the angle running from the equator to the center of the earth and back through the place in question. latitude is reckoned from the equator (0°) to the north pole (90°) and from the equator (0°) to the south pole (90°). the difference of latitude between any two places is the arc of the meridian intercepted between the parallels of latitude of the places and is marked n or s according to the direction in which you steam (t n´). the longitude of a place on the surface of the earth is the arc of the equator intercepted between the meridian of the place and the meridian at greenwich, england, called the prime meridian. longitude is reckoned east or west through 180° from the meridian at greenwich. difference of longitude between any two places is the arc of the equator intercepted between their meridians, and is called east or west according to direction. example: diff. lo. t and t´ = e´ m, and e or w according as to which way you go. departure is the actual linear distance measured on a parallel of latitude between two meridians. difference of latitude is reckoned in minutes because miles and minutes of latitude are always the same. departure, however, is only reckoned in _miles_, because while a mile is equal to 1´ of longitude on the equator, it is equal to more than 1´ as the latitude increases; the reason being, of course, that the meridians of lo. converge toward the pole, and the distance between the same two meridians grows less and less as you leave the equator and go toward either pole. example: tn, n´n´. 10 mi. departure on the equator = 10´ difference in lo. 10 mi. departure in lat. 55° equals something like 18´ difference in lo. the curved line which joins any two places on the earth´s surface, cutting all the meridians at the same angle, is called the rhumb line. the angle which this line makes with the meridian of lo. intersecting any point in question is the course, and the length of the line between any two places is called the distance between them. example: t or t´. _chart projections_ the earth is projected, so to speak, upon a chart in three different ways--the mercator projection, the polyconic projection and the gnomonic projection. _the mercator projection_ you already know something about the mercator projection and a mercator chart. as explained before, it is constructed on the theory that the earth is a cylinder instead of a sphere. the meridians of longitude, therefore, run parallel instead of converging, and the parallels of latitude are lengthened out to correspond to the widening out of the lo. meridians. just how this mercator chart is constructed is explained in detail in the arts. in bowditch you were given to read last night. you do not have to actually construct such a chart, as the government has for sale blank mercator charts for every parallel of latitude in which they can be used. it is well to remember, however, that since a mile or minute of latitude has a different value in every latitude, there is an appearance of distortion in every mercator chart which covers any large extent of surface. for instance, an island near the pole, will be represented as being much larger than one of the same size near the equator, due to the different scale used to preserve the accurate character of the projection. _the polyconic projection_ the theory of the polyconic projection is based upon conceiving the earth´s surface as a series of cones, each one having the parallel as its base and its vertex in the point where a tangent to the earth at that latitude intersects the earth´s axis. the degrees of latitude and longitude on this chart are projected in their true length and the general distortion of the earth´s surface is less than in any other method of projection. [illustration] a straight line on the polyconic chart represents a near approach to a great circle, making a slightly different angle with each meridian of longitude as they converge toward the poles. the parallels of latitude are also shown as curved lines, this being apparent on all but large scale charts. the polyconic projection is especially adapted to surveying, but is also employed to some extent in charts of the u. s. coast & geodetic survey. _gnomonic projection_ the theory of this projection is to make a curved line appear and be a straight line on the chart, i.e., as though you were at the center of the earth and looking out toward the circumference. the gnomonic projection is of particular value in sailing long distance courses where following a curved line over the earth´s surface is the shortest distance between two points that are widely separated. this is called great circle sailing and will be talked about in more detail later on. the point to remember here is that the hydrographic office prints great circle sailing charts covering all the navigable waters of the globe. since all these charts are constructed on the gnomonic projection, it is only necessary to join any two points by a straight line to get the _curved_ line or great circle track which your ship is to follow. the courses to sail and the distance between each course are easily ascertained from the information on the chart. this is the way it is done: (note to instructor: provide yourself with a chart and explain from the chart explanation just how these courses are laid down.) spend the rest of the time in having pupils lay down courses on the different kinds of charts. if these charts are not available assign for night work the following articles in bowditch, part of which reading can be done immediately in the class room--so that as much time as possible can be given to the reading on dead reckoning: 167-168-169-172-173-174-175-176--first two sentences 178-202-203-204-205-206-207-208. note to pupils: in reading articles 167-178, disregard the formulæ and the examples worked out by logarithms. just try to get a clear idea of the different sailings mentioned and the theory of dead reckoning in arts. 202-209. wednesday lecture useful tables--plane and traverse sailing the whole subject of navigation is divided into two parts, i.e., finding your position by what is called dead reckoning and finding your position by observation of celestial bodies such as the sun, stars, planets, etc. to find your position by dead reckoning, you go on the theory that small sections of the earth are flat. the whole affair then simply resolves itself into solving the length of right-angled triangles except, of course, when you are going due east and west or due north and south. for instance, any courses you sail like these will be the hypotenuses of a series of right-angled triangles. the problem you have to solve is, having left a point on land, the latitude and longitude of which you know, and sailed so many miles in a certain direction, in what latitude and longitude have you arrived? [illustration] if you sail due north or south, the problem is merely one of arithmetic. suppose your position at noon today is latitude 39° 15' n, longitude 40° w, and up to noon tomorrow you steam due north 300 miles. now you have already learned that a minute of latitude is always equal to a nautical mile. hence, you have sailed 300 minutes of latitude or 5°. this 5° is called difference of latitude, and as you are in north latitude and going north, the difference of latitude, 5°, should be added to the latitude left, making your new position 44° 15' n and your longitude the same 40° w, since you have not changed your longitude at all. in sailing east or west, however, your problem is more difficult. only on the equator is a minute of longitude and a nautical mile of the same length. as the meridians of longitude converge toward the poles, the lengths between each lessen. we now have to rely on tables to tell us the number of miles in a degree of longitude at every distance north or south of the equator, i.e., in every latitude. longitude, then, is reckoned in _miles_. the number of miles a ship makes east or west is called departure, and it must be converted into degrees, minutes and seconds to find the difference of longitude. a ship, however, seldom goes due north or south or due east or west. she usually steams a diagonal course. suppose, for instance, a vessel in latitude 40° 30' n, longitude 70° 25' w, sails ssw 50 miles. what is the new latitude and longitude she arrives in? she sails a course like this: [illustration] now suppose we draw a perpendicular line to represent a meridian of longitude and a horizontal one to represent a parallel of latitude. then we have a right-angled triangle in which the line ac represents the course and distance sailed, and the angle at a is the angle of the course with a meridian of longitude. if we can ascertain the length of ab, or the distance south the ship has sailed, we shall have the difference of latitude, and if we can get the length of the line bc, we shall have the departure and from it the difference of longitude. this is a simple problem in trigonometry, i.e., knowing the angle and the length of one side of a right triangle, what is the length of the other two sides? but you do not have to use trigonometry. the whole problem is worked out for you in table 2 of bowditch. find the angle of the course ssw, i.e., s 22° w in the old or 202° in the new compass reading. look down the distance column to the left for the distance sailed, i.e., 50 miles. opposite this you find the difference of latitude 46-4/10 (46.4) and the departure 18-7/10 (18.7). now the position we were in at the start was lat. 40° 30' n, longitude 70° 25' w. in sailing ssw 50 miles, we made a difference of latitude of 46' 24" (46.4), and as we went south--toward the equator--we should subtract this 46' 24" from our latitude left to give us our latitude in. now we must find our difference of longitude and from it the new or longitude in. the first thing to do is to find the _average_ or middle latitude in which you have been sailing. do this by adding the latitude left and the latitude in and dividing by 2. 40° 30' 00" 39 43 36 ---------- 2)80 13 36 ---------- 40° 06' 48" mid. lat. take the nearest degree, i.e., 40°, as your answer. with this 40° enter the same table 2 and look for your departure, i.e., 18.7 in the _difference of latitude_ column. 18.4 is the nearest to it. now look to the left in the distance column opposite 18.4 and you will find 24, which means that in lat. 40° a departure of 18.7 miles is equivalent to 24' of difference of longitude. we were in 70° 25' west longitude and we sailed south and west, so this difference of longitude should be added to the longitude left to get the longitude in: lo. left 70° 25' w diff. lo. 24 ---------- lo. in 70° 49' w the whole problem therefore would look like this: lat. left 40° 30' n lo. left 70° 25' w diff. lat. 46 24 diff. lo. 24 ------------ --------- lat. in 39° 43' 36" n lo. in 70° 49' w there is one more fact to explain. when the course is 45° or less (old compass reading) you read from the top of the page of table 2 down. when the course is more than 45° (old compass reading) you read from the bottom of the page up. the distance is taken out in exactly the same way in both cases, but the difference of latitude and the departure, you will notice, are reversed. (instructor: read a few courses to thoroughly explain this.) from all this explanation we get the following rules, which put in your note-book: to find the new or lat. in: enter table 2 with the true course at the top or bottom of the page according as to whether it is less or greater than 45° (old compass reading). take out the difference of latitude and departure and mark the difference of latitude minutes ('). when the latitude left and the difference of latitude are both north or both south, add them. when one is north and the other south, subtract the less from the greater and the remainder, named north or south after the greater, will be the new latitude, known as the latitude in. to find the new or lo. in: find the middle latitude by adding the latitude left to the latitude in and dividing by 2. with this middle latitude, enter table 2. seek for the departure in the difference of latitude column. opposite to it in the distance column will be the figures indicating the number of minutes in the difference of longitude. with this difference of longitude, apply it in the same way to the longitude left as you applied the difference of latitude to the latitude left. the result will be the new or longitude in. now if a ship steamed a whole day on the same course, you would be able to get her dead reckoning position without any further work, but a ship does not usually sail the same course 24 hours straight. she usually changes her course several times, and as a ship's position by d.r. is only computed once a day--at noon--it becomes necessary to have a method of obtaining the result after several courses have been sailed. this is called working a traverse and sailing on various courses in this fashion is called traverse sailing. put in your note-book the following example and the way in which it is worked: departure taken from barnegat light in lat. 39° 46' n, lo. 74° 06' w, bearing by compass nnw, 15 knots away. ship heading south with a deviation of 4° w. she sailed on the following courses: --------+----+-------+---------+--------+----------------------------- course |wind| leeway|deviation|distance| remarks --------+----+-------+---------+--------+----------------------------- se 3/4 e| ne | 1 pt. | 3° e | 30 |variation throughout day 8° w. s 11° w | ne | 0 | 6° e | 55 | a current set ne magnetic nnw | ne | 0 | 2° w | 14 | 1/2 mi. per hr. for the day. s 87°e | ne | 0 | 3° e | 50 | required lat. and lo. in | | | | | and course and distance | | | | | made good. --------+----+-------+---------+--------+----------------------------- ---------------------------------------------------------------------------- c. cos. |wind|leeway| dev.| var.| new | old |dist.|diff. lat. |departure | | | | |t. cos.|t cos. | +-----+-----+-----+--- | | | | | | | | n | s | e | w --------+----+------+-----+-----+-------+-------+-----+-----+-----+-----+--- sse | .. | .. | 4° w| 8° w| 145° | s 35°e| 15 | .. |12.3 | 8.6 | .. se 3/4 e| ne | 1 pt.| 3° e| 8° w| 133° | s 47°e| 30 | .. |20.5 |21.9 | .. s 11° w | ne | 0 | 6° e| 8° w| 189° | s 9°w| 55 | .. |54.3 | .. | 8.6 nnw | ne | 0 | 2° w| 8° w| 327° | n 33°w| 14 |11.7 |.. | .. | 7.6 s 87° e | ne | 0 | 3° e| 8° w| 88° | n 88°e| 50 | 1.7 |.. |50 | .. ne | .. | .. | mg | 8° w| 3° | n 3° e| 12 | 9.6 |.. | 7.2 | .. --------+----+------+-----+-----+-------+-------+-----+-----+-----------+--- 23.0 |87.1 |87.7 |16.2 .. |23.0 |16.2 |.. +-----+-----+--- .. |.. |.. |.. .. |64.1 |71.5 |.. +-----+-----+--- .. s e lat. left 39°-46'-00" n mid. lat. 39° diff. lat. 1 -04 -06 s dep. 71.5 --------- lat. in. 38 -41 -54 n table 2--under 39° dep. in 39 -46 -00 diff. lat. col. = 92' = 1° 32' diff. lo. --------- 2)78 -27 -54 --------- mid. lat. 39 -13 -57 lo. left 74°-06'-00" w diff. lo. 1 -32 -00 e ------------- lo. in. 72°-34'-00" w table 2--diff. lat. 64.1, dep. 71.5. course s 48° e--distance 96 miles. the rule covering all these operations is as follows: 1. write out the various courses with their corrections for leeway, deviation, variation and the distance run on each. 2. in four adjoining columns headed n, s, e, w respectively, put down the difference of latitude and departure for each course. 3. add together all the northings, all the southings, all the eastings and all the westings. subtract to find the difference between northings and southings and you will get the whole difference of latitude. the difference between the eastings and westings will be the whole departure. 4. find the latitude in, as already explained. 5. find the lo. in, as already explained. 6. with the whole difference of latitude and whole departure, seek in table 2 for the page where the nearest agreement of difference of latitude and departure can be found. the number of degrees at the top or bottom of the page (according as to whether the diff. of lat. or dep. is greater) will give you the true course made good, and the number in the distance column opposite the proper difference of latitude and departure will give you the distance made. it is often convenient to use the reverse of the above method, i.e., being given the latitude and longitude of the position left and the latitude and longitude of the position arrived in, to find the course and distance between them by middle latitude sailing. the full rule is as follows: 1. find the algebraic difference between the latitudes and longitudes respectively. 2. using the middle (or average) latitude as a course, find in table 2 of bowditch the diff. of lo. in the distance column. opposite, in the diff. of lat. column, will be the correct departure. 3. with the diff. of lat. between the position left and the position arrived in, and the departure, just secured, seek in table 2 for the page where the nearest agreement to these values can be found. on this page will be secured the true course and distance made, as explained in the preceding method. 4. use this method only when steaming approximately an east and west course. for an example of this method, see bowditch, p. 77, example 3. thursday lecture examples on plane and traverse sailing (_continued_) 1. departure taken from cape horn. lat. 55° 58' 41" s, lo. 67° 16' 15" w, bearing by compass ssw 20 knots. ship heading sw x s, deviation 4° e, steamed the following courses: ---------+----------+------------+-----------+--------- c. cos. | wind | leeway | deviation | distance ---------+----------+------------+-----------+--------- sw x s | se | 1 pt. | 4° e | 40 wnw | n | 2 pts. | 5° e | 25 s 40° e | ne | 2 pts. | 4° w | 20 ---------+----------+------------+-----------+---------_remarks_ variation 18° e throughout. current set nw magnetic 30 mi. for the day. required latitude and longitude in and course and distance made good. 2. departure taken from st. agnes lighthouse, scilly islands, lat. 49° 53' s, lo. 6° 20' w, bearing by compass e x s, distance 18 knots, deviation 10° w, variation 23° w. ship headed n steamed on the following courses: -------+------+-------+-------+------+----------------------------- c. cos.| wind |leeway |devia|dis | remarks | | |tion |tance | -------+------+-------+-------+------+----------------------------- n | | .. | 10° w | 60 |variation 23° w. current set s 1/2 e| w | 3 pts.| 10° e | 40 |se mg 1-1/2 miles for 24 hrs. nne | nnw | 2 pts.| 8° w | 45 |req. lat. and lo. in and | | | | |course and distance made | | | | |good, -------+------+-------+-------+------+-----------------------------assign for night work the following articles in bowditch: 179-180-181-182. also additional problems in dead reckoning. friday lecture mercator sailing this is a method to find the true course and distance between two points. the method can be used in two ways, i.e., by the use of tables 2 and 3 (called the inspection method) and by the use of logarithms. the first method is the quicker and will do for short distances. the second method, however, is more accurate in all cases, and particularly where the distances are great. the inspection method is as follows (put in your note-book): find the algebraic difference between the meridional parts corresponding to the lat. in and lat. sought by table 3. call this meridional difference of latitude. find the algebraic difference between longitude in and longitude sought and call this difference of longitude. with the meridional difference of latitude and the difference of longitude, find the course by searching in table 2 for the page where they stand opposite each other in the latitude and departure columns. now find the real difference of latitude. under the course just found and opposite the _real_ difference of latitude, will be found the distance sailed in the distance column. example: what is the course and distance from lat. 40° 28' n, lo. 73° 50' w, to lat. 39° 51' n, lo. 72° 45' w? lat. in 40° 28' n meridional pts. 2644.2 lat. sought 39 51 n meridional pts. 2596.0 -------- ----- 0° 37' mer. diff. lat. 48.2 lo. in 73° 50' w lo. sought 72 45 w -------- 1° 05' = 65' on page 604 bowditch you will find 48.7 and 64.7 opposite each other, and as 48.7 is in the lat. column only when you read from the bottom, the course is s 53° e. the real difference of lat. under this course is opposite 62 in the distance column. hence the distance to be sailed is 62 miles. if distances are too great, divide meridional difference of lat., real difference of latitude and difference of longitude by 10 or any other number to bring them within the scope of the distances in table 2. when distance to be sailed is found, it must be multiplied by the same number. for instance, if the difference of lat., difference of lo., etc., are divided by 10 to bring them in the scope of table 2, and with these figures 219 is the distance found, the real distance would be 10 times 219 or 2190. now let us work out the same problem by logarithms. this will acquaint us with two new tables, i.e., tables 42 and 44. put this in your note-book: lat. in 40° 28' n mer. pts. 2644.2 lo. in 73° 50' lat. sought 39 51 mer. pts. 2596.0 lo. sought 72 45 -------- ----- ------ real diff. 0° 37' 48.2 1° 05' 60 - 60 5 - (table 42) log (+ 10) 65 = 11.81291 log 48.2 = 1.68305 ------- log tan tc (table 44) 10.12986 tc = s 53° 26' e log sec tc (53° 26') = 10.22493 log real diff. lat. = 1.56820 + ------- 11.79313 10. ------- 1.79313 distance (table 42) = 62.11 miles find algebraically the real difference of latitude, meridional difference of latitude and the difference of longitude. reduce real difference of latitude and difference of longitude to minutes. take log of the difference of longitude (table 42) and add 10. from this log subtract the log of difference of meridional parts. the result will be the log tan of the true course, which find in table 44. on the same page find the log sec of true course. add to this the log of the real difference of latitude, and if the result is more than 10, subtract 10. this result will be the log of the distance sailed. this method should be used only when steaming approximately a north and south course. note.--for detailed explanation of tables 42 and 44 see bowditch, pp. 271-276. assign for night reading arts, in bowditch: 183-184-185-186-187-188-189-194-259-260-261-262-263-264-265-266-267-268. also, one of the examples of mercator sailing to be done by both the inspection and logarithmic method. saturday lecture great circle sailing--the chronometer in tuesday's lecture of this week, i explained how a great circle track was laid down on one of the great circle sailing charts which are prepared by the hydrographic office. supposing, however, you do not have these charts on hand. there is an easy way to construct a great circle track yourself. turn to art. 194, page 82, in bowditch. here is a table with an explanation as to how to use it. take, for instance, the same two points between which you just drew a line on the great circle track. find the center of this line and the latitude of that point. at this point draw a line perpendicular to the course to be sailed, the other end of which must intersect the corresponding parallel of latitude given in the table. with this point as the center of a circle, sweep an arc which will intersect the point left and the point sought. this arc will be the great circle track to follow. to find the courses to be sailed, get the difference between the course at starting and that at the middle of the circle, and find how many quarter points are contained in it. now divide the distance from the starting point to the middle of the circle by the number of quarter points. that will give the number of miles to sail on each quarter point course. see this illustration: [illustration] difference between ene and e = 2 pts. = 8 quarter points. say distance is 1600 miles measured by dividers or secured by mercator sailing method. divide 1600 by 8 = 200. every 200 miles you should change your course 1/4 point east. _the chronometer_ the chronometer is nothing more than a very finely regulated clock. with it we ascertain greenwich mean time, i.e., the mean time at greenwich observatory, england. just what the words "greenwich mean time" signify, will be explained in more detail later on. what you should remember here is that practically every method of finding your exact position at sea is dependent upon knowing greenwich mean time, and the only way to find it is by means of the chronometer. it is essential to keep the chronometer as quiet as possible. for that reason, when you take an observation you will probably note the time by your watch. just before taking the observation, you will compare your watch with the chronometer to notice the exact difference between the two. when you take your observation, note the watch time, apply the difference between the chronometer and watch, and the result will be the ct. for instance, suppose the chronometer read 3h 25m 10s, and your watch, at the same instant, read 1h 10m 5s. c--w would be: 3h -25m -10s -1 -10 -05 --------------- 2h -15m -05s now suppose you took an observation which, according to your watch, was at 2h 10m 05s. what would be the corresponding c t? it would be wt 2h -10m -05s c -w 2 -15 -05 ------------------- ct 4h -25m -10s if the chronometer time is less than the w t add 12 hours to the c t, so that it will always be the larger and so that the amount to be added to w t will always be +. for instance, ct 1h--25m--45s, wt 4h--13m--25s, what is the c-w? ct 13h--25m--45s wt 4 --13 --25 --------------- c--w 9h--12m--20s now, suppose an observation was taken at 6h 13m 25s according to watch time. what would be the corresponding ct? wt 6h--13m--25s c--w 9 --12 --20 --------------- 15h--25m--45s --12 --------------- ct 3h--25m--45s put in your note-book: ct = wt + c w. if, in finding c-w, c is less than w, add 12 hours to c, subtracting same after ct is secured. example no. 1: ct 3h--25m--10s wt 1 --10 --05 --------------- c--w 2h--15m--05s wt 2h--10m--05s + c--w 2 --15 --05 --------------- ct 4h--25m--10s example no. 2: ct 1h--25m--45s wt 4h--13m--25s (+12 hrs.) ct 13h--25m--45s wt 4 --13 --25 --------------- c-w 9h--12m--20s wt 6h--13m--25s + c-w 9 --12 --20 --------------- 15h--25m--45s (-12 hrs.) 12 --------------- ct 3h--25m--45s there is one more very important fact to know about the chronometer. it is physically impossible to keep it absolutely accurate over a long period of time. instead of continually fussing with its adjustment and hands, the daily rate of error is ascertained, and from this the exact time for any given day. it is an invariable practice among good mariners to _leave the chronometer alone_. when you are in port, you can find out from a time ball or from some chronometer maker what your error is. with this in mind, you can apply the new correction from day to day. here is an example (put in your note-book): on june 1st, ct 7h--20m--15s, cc 2m--40s fast. on june 16th, (same ct) cc 1m--30s fast. what was the corresponding g.m.t. on june 10th? june 1st 2m--40s fast 16th 1m--30s fast --------------- 1m--10s 60 - 60 10 - 15) 70s (4.6 sec. daily rate of error losing june 1st-10th, 9 days times 4.6 sec. = 41 sec. losing june 1st 2m--40s fast june 10th 41s losing -------- june 10th 1m--59s fast ct 7h--20m--15s cc -1 --59 ----------- g.m.t. 7h--18m--16s on june 10th if cc is fast, subtract from ct if cc is slow, add to ct week iii--celestial navigation tuesday lecture celestial co-ordinates, equinoctial system, etc. we have already discussed the way in which the earth is divided so as to aid us in finding our position at sea, i.e., with an equator, parallels of latitude, meridians of longitude starting at the greenwich meridian, etc. we now take up the way in which the celestial sphere is correspondingly divided and also simple explanations of some of the more important terms used in celestial navigation. as you stand on any point of the earth and look up, the heavenly bodies appear as though they were situated upon the surface of a vast hollow sphere, of which your eye is the center. of course this apparent concave vault has no existence and we cannot accurately measure the distance of the heavenly bodies from us or from each other. we can, however, measure the direction of some of these bodies and that information is of tremendous value to us in helping us to fix our position. now we could use our eye as the center of the celestial sphere but more accurate than that is to use the center of the earth. suppose we do use the center of the earth as the place from which to observe these celestial bodies and, in imagination, transfer our eye there. then we will find projected on the celestial sphere not only the heavenly bodies but the imaginary points and circles of the earth's surface. parallels of latitude, meridians of longitude, the equator, etc., will have the same imaginary position on the celestial sphere that they have on the earth. your actual position on the earth will be projected in a point called your zenith, i.e., the point directly overhead. [illustration] from this we get the definition that the zenith of an observer on the earth's surface is the point in the celestial sphere directly overhead. it would be a simple matter to fix your position if your position never changed. but it is always changing with relation to these celestial bodies. first, the earth is revolving on its own axis. second, the earth is moving in an elliptic track around the sun, and third, certain celestial bodies themselves are moving in a track of their own. the changes produced by the daily rotation of the earth on its axis are different for observers at different points on the earth and, therefore, depend upon the latitude and longitude of the observer. but the changes arising from the earth's motion in its orbit and the motion of various celestial bodies in their orbits, are true no matter on what point of the earth you happen to be. these changes, therefore, in their relation to the center of the earth, may be accurately gauged at any instant. to this end the facts necessary for any calculation have been collected and are available in the nautical almanac, which we will take up in more detail later. now with these facts in mind, let us explain in simple words the meaning of some of the terms you will have to become acquainted with in celestial navigation. in the illustration (bowditch p. 88) the earth is supposed to be projected upon the celestial sphere n e s w. the zenith of the observer is projected at z and the pole of the earth which is above the horizon is projected at p. the other pole is not given. the celestial equator is marked here e q w and like all other points and lines previously mentioned, it is the projection of the equator until it intersects the celestial sphere. another name for the celestial equator is the equinoctial. all celestial meridians of longitude corresponding to longitude meridians on the earth are perpendicular to the equinoctial and likewise p s, the meridian of the observer, since it passes through the observer's zenith at z, is formed by the extension of the earth's meridian of the observer and hence intersects the horizon at its n and s points. this makes clear again just what is the meridian of the observer. it is the meridian of longitude which passes through the n and s poles and the observer's zenith. in other words, when the sun or any other heavenly body is on your meridian, a line stretched due n and s, intersecting the n and s poles, will pass through your zenith and the center of the sun or other celestial body. to understand this is important, for no sight with the sextant is of value except with relation to your meridian. the declination of any point in the celestial sphere is its distance in arc, north or south of the celestial equator, i.e., n or s of the equinoctial. north declinations, i.e., declinations north of the equinoctial are always marked, +; those south of the equinoctial, -. for instance, in the nautical almanac, you will never see a declination of the sun or other celestial body marked, n 18° 28' 30". it will always be marked +18° 28' 30" and a south declination will be marked -18° 28' 30". another fact to remember is that declination on the celestial sphere corresponds to latitude on the earth. if, for instance, the sun's declination is +18° 28' 30" at noon, greenwich, then at that instant, i.e., noon at greenwich, the sun will be directly overhead a point on earth which is in latitude n 18° 28' 30". the polar distance of any point is its distance in arc from either pole. it must, therefore, equal 90° minus the declination, if measured from the pole of the same name as the declination or 90° plus the declination if measured from the pole of the opposite name. p m is the polar distance of m from p, or p b the polar distance of b from p. the true altitude of a celestial body is its angular height from the true horizon. the zenith distance of any point or celestial body is its angular distance from the zenith of the observer. the ecliptic is the great circle representing the path in which the sun appears to move in the celestial sphere. as a matter of fact, you know that the earth moves around the sun, but as you observe the sun from some spot on the earth, it appears to move around the earth. this apparent track is called the ecliptic as stated before, and in the illustration the ecliptic is represented by the curved line, c v t. the plane of the ecliptic is inclined to that of the equinoctial at an angle of 23° 27-1/2', and this inclination is called the obliquity of the ecliptic. the equinoxes are those points at which the ecliptic and equinoctial intersect, and when the sun occupies either of these two positions, the days and nights are of equal length. the vernal equinox is that one which the sun passes through or intersects in going from s to n declination, and the autumnal equinox that which it passes through or intersects in going from n to s declination. the vernal equinox (v in the illustration) is also designated as the first point of aries which is of use in reckoning star time and will be mentioned in more detail later. the solstitial points, or solstices, are points of the ecliptic at a distance of 90° from the equinoxes, at which the sun attains its highest declination in each hemisphere. they are called the summer and winter solstice according to the season in which the sun appears to pass these points in its path. to sum up: the way to find any point on the earth is to find the distance of this point n or s of the equator (i.e., its latitude) and its distance e or w of the meridian at greenwich (i.e., its longitude). in the celestial sphere, the way to find the location of a point or celestial body such as the sun is to find its declination (i.e., distance in arc n or s of the equator) and its hour angle. by hour angle, i mean the distance in time from your meridian to the meridian of the point or celestial body in question. assign for night reading, arts, in bowditch: 270-271-272-273-274-275-277-278-279-280-282-283-284. wednesday lecture time by the sun--mean time, solar time, conversion, etc. there is nothing more important in all navigation than the subject of time. every calculation for determining the position of your ship at sea must take into consideration some kind of time. put in your note-book: there are three kinds of time: 1. apparent or solar time, i.e., time by the sun. 2. mean time, i.e., clock time. 3. sidereal time, or time by the stars. so far as this lecture is concerned, we will omit any mention of sidereal time, i.e., time by the stars. we will devote this morning to sun time, i.e., apparent time, and mean time. apparent or solar time is, as stated before, nothing more than sun time or time by the sun. the hour angle of the center of the sun is the measure of apparent or solar time. an apparent or solar day is the interval of time it takes for the earth to revolve completely around on its axis every 24 hours. it is apparent noon at the place where you are when the center of the sun is directly on your meridian, i.e., on the meridian of longitude which runs through the north and south poles and also intersects your zenith. this is the most natural and the most accurate measure of time for the navigator at sea and the unit of time adopted by the mariner is the apparent solar day. apparent noon is the time when the latitude of your position can be most easily and most exactly determined and on the latitude by observation just secured we can get data which will be of great value to us for longitude sights taken later in the day. now it would be very easy for the mariner if he could measure apparent time directly so that his clock or other instrument would always tell him just what the sun time was. it is impossible, however, to do this because the earth does not revolve at a uniform rate of speed. consequently the sun is sometimes a little ahead and sometimes a little behind any average time. you cannot manufacture a clock which will run that way because the hours of a clock must be all of exactly the same length and it must make noon at precisely 12 o'clock every day. hence we distinguish clock time from sun time by calling clock time, mean (or average) time and sun time, apparent or solar time. from this explanation you are ready to understand such expressions as local mean time, which, in untechnical language, signifies clock time at the place where you are; greenwich mean time which signifies clock time at greenwich; local apparent time, which signifies sun time at the place where you are; greenwich apparent time, which signifies sun time at greenwich. now the difference between apparent time and mean time can be found for any minute of the day by reference to the nautical almanac which we will take up later in more detail. this difference is called the equation of time. there is one more fact to remember in regard to apparent and mean time. it is the relation of the sun's hour angle to apparent time. in the first place, what is a definition of the sun's ha? it is the angle at the celestial pole between the meridian intersecting any given point and the meridian intersecting the center of the sun. it is measured by the arc of the celestial equator intersected between the meridian of any point and the meridian intersecting the center of the sun. [illustration] for instance, in the above diagram, suppose pg is the meridian at greenwich, and ps the meridian intersecting the sun. then the angle at the pole gps, measured by the arc gs would be the hour angle of greenwich, or the greenwich hour angle. and now you notice that this angular measure is exactly the same as apparent time at greenwich or greenwich apparent time, for greenwich apparent time is nothing more than the distance in time greenwich, england, or the meridian at greenwich is from the sun, i.e., the time it takes the earth to revolve from greenwich to the sun; and that distance is exactly measured by the greenwich hour angle or the arc on the celestial equator, gs. the same is correspondingly true of local apparent time and the ship's hour angle. suppose, for instance, pl is the meridian intersecting the place where your ship is. then your ship's hour angle would be the angle at the pole intersecting the meridian of your ship and the meridian of the sun or lps and measured by the arc ls. and you will note that this distance is exactly the same as apparent time at the ship, for apparent time at ship is nothing more than the distance in time which the ship is from the sun. we can sum up all this information in a few simple rules, which put in your note-book: mean time = clock time. g.m.t. = greenwich mean time. l.m.t. = local mean time. apparent time = actual or sun time. g.a.t. (g.h.a.) = greenwich apparent time or greenwich hour angle. l.a.t. (s.h.a.) = local apparent time or ship's hour angle. difference between apparent and mean time or mean and apparent time--equation of time. right under this in your note-book put the following diagram, which i will explain: [illustration] you will see from this diagram that civil time commences at midnight and runs through 12 hours to noon. it then commences again and runs through 12 hours to midnight. the civil day, then, is from midnight to midnight, divided into two periods of 12 hours each. the astronomical day commences at noon of the civil day of the same date. it comprises 24 hours, reckoned from o to 24, from noon of one day to noon of the next. astronomical time, either apparent or mean, is the hour angle of the true or mean sun respectively, measured to the westward throughout its entire daily circuit. since the civil day begins 12 hours before the astronomical day and ends 12 hours before it, a.m. of a new civil day is p.m. of the astronomical day preceding. for instance, 6 hours a.m., april 15th civil time is equivalent to 18 hours april 14th, astronomical time. now, all astronomical calculations in which time is a necessary fact to be known, must be expressed in astronomical time. as chronometers have their face marked only from 0 to 12 as in the case of an ordinary watch, it is necessary to transpose this watch or chronometer time into astronomical time. no transposing is necessary if the time is p.m., as you can see from the diagram that both civil and astronomical times up to 12 p.m. are the same. but in a.m. time, such transposing is necessary. put in your note-book: whenever local or chronometer time is a.m., deduct 12 hours from such time to get the correct astronomical time: ct 15d-9h--10m--30s a.m. --12 ----------------------- ct 14d--21h--10m--30s ----- l.m.t. 10d-4h--40m--16s a.m. --12 ----------------------- l.m.t. 9d--16h--40m--16s now we come to a very important application of time. you will remember that in one of the former lectures we stated that to find our latitude, we had to find how far north or south of the equator we were, and to find our longitude, we had to find how far east or west of the meridian at greenwich we were. never mind about latitude for the present. we can find our longitude exactly if we know our greenwich time and our time at ship. for instance, in the accompanying diagram: [illustration] suppose pg is the meridian at greenwich, then anything to the west of pg is west longitude and anything to the east of pg is east longitude. now suppose gps is the h.a. of g. or g.a.t.--i.e., the distance in time g. is from the sun. and l p s is the h.a. of the ship or l.a.t.--i.e., the distance in time the ship is from the sun. then the difference between g p s and l p s is g p l, measured by the arc l g, and that is the difference that the ship, represented by its meridian pl, is from the greenwich meridian pg. in other words, that is the ship's longitude for, as mentioned before, longitude is the distance east or west of greenwich that any point is, measured on the arc of the celestial equator. the longitude is west, for you can see lpg or the arc lg is west of the meridian pg. likewise if p e is the meridian of your ship, the longitude in time is the s.h.a. or l.a.t., e p s (the distance your ship is from the sun) less the g.h.a. or g.a.t., g p s (the distance greenwich is from the sun) which is the angle g p e measured by the arc g e. and this longitude is east for you can see g p e, measured by g e, is east of the greenwich meridian, p g. in both these cases, however, the longitude is expressed in time, i.e., so many hours, minutes and seconds from the greenwich meridian and we wish to express this distance in degrees, minutes and seconds of arc. the earth describes a circle of 360° every 24 hours. then if you are 1 hour from greenwich, you are 1/24 of 360° or 15° from greenwich and if you are 12 hours from greenwich, you are 1/2 of 360° or 180° from greenwich. by keeping this in mind, you should be able to transpose time into degrees, minutes and seconds of arc for any fraction of time. it is, however, all worked out in table 7 of bowditch which turn to. (note to instructor: explain this table carefully). put in your note-book: 89° 24' 26" = (89°) 5h--56m (24') 1m--36s (26") 1--44/60s ------------------- 5h--57m--37s 44/60s = 38s 4h--42m--26s 4h--40m = 70° 2m--24s = 36' 2s = 30" ---------- 70° 36' 30" also put in your note-book this diagram and these formulas: (for diagram use illustration on p. 40.) l.m.t. + west lo. = g.m.t. l.a.t. + west lo. = g.a.t. l.m.t. east lo. = g.m.t. l.a.t. east lo. = g.a.t. g.m.t. west lo. = l.m.t. g.a.t. west lo. = l.a.t. g.m.t. + east lo. = l.m.t. g.a.t. + east lo. = l.a.t. if g.m.t. or g.a.t. is greater than l.m.t. or l.a.t. respectively, lo. is west. if g.m.t. or g.a.t. is less than l.m.t. or l.a.t. respectively, lo. is east. example: in longitude 81° 15' w, l.m.t. is april 15d--10h--17m--30s a.m. what is g.m.t.? l.m.t. 15d--10h--17m--30s a.m. --12 ----------------- l.m.t. 14d--22h--17m--30s 5 --25 w + ----------------- g.m.t. 15d-3h--42m--30s ------- g.m.t. april 15d-3h--42m--30s l.m.t. april 15d--10h--17m--30s a.m. in what lo. is ship? g.m.t. 15d 3h--42m--30s l.m.t. 14d 22h--17m--30s ----------------- lo. in t 5h--25m--00s w lo. = 81° 15'w assign also for night work reading the following articles in bowditch: 276-278-279-226-228-286-287-288-290-291-294 (omitting everything on page 114.) thursday lecture sidereal time--right ascension our last lecture was devoted to a discussion of sun time. today we are going to talk about star time, or, using the more common words, sidereal time. now, just one word of review. you remember that we have learned that astronomical time is reckoned from noon of one day to noon of the next and hence the astronomical day corresponds to the 24 hours of a ship's run. the hours are counted from 0 to 24, so that 10 o'clock in the morning of october 25th is astronomically october 24th, 22 hours or 22 o'clock of october 24th. now right ascension is different from both astronomical and civil time. right ascension is practically celestial longitude. for instance, the position of a place on the earth is fixed by its latitude and longitude; the position of a heavenly body is fixed by its declination and right ascension. but right ascension is not measured in degrees and minutes nor is it measured east and west. it is reckoned in hours and minutes all the way around the sky, eastward from a certain point, through the approximate 24 hours. the point from which this celestial longitude begins is not at greenwich, but the point where the celestial equator intersects the ecliptic in the spring of the year, i.e., the point where the sun, coming north in the spring, crosses the celestial equator. this point is called the first point of aries. you will frequently hear me speak of a star having, for instance, a right ascension of 5h 16m 32s. i mean by that, that starting at the celestial meridian, i.e., the meridian passing through the first point of aries, it will take a spot on the earth 5h 16m 32s to travel until it reaches the meridian of the star in question. roughly speaking then, just as greenwich apparent time means the distance east or west the greenwich meridian is from the sun and local apparent time means the distance east or west your ship is from the sun, so r.a.m.g. means the distance in time the meridian of greenwich is from the first point of aries, measured eastward in a circle. and this distance is the same as greenwich sidereal time, i.e., sidereal time at greenwich or the distance in time the meridian of greenwich is from the first point of aries. now, what is the star time that corresponds to local time? it is called the right ascension of the meridian, which means the r. a. of the meridian which intersects your zenith. just as l.a.t. is the distance in time your meridian is from the sun, so local sidereal time is the r. a. of your meridian, i.e., the distance in time your meridian is from the first point of aries. put in your note-book: g.s.t. and r.a.m.g. are one and the same thing. l.s.t. and r.a.m. are one and the same thing. g.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+).c.p. = g.s.t. (r.a.m.g.) if the result is more than 24 hours, subtract 24 hours. g.s.t. (.).r.a. (+).c.p. = g.m.t. g.s.t. w.lo. = l.s.t. + e.lo. l.s.t. + w.lo. = g.s.t. e.lo. i can explain all these formulas very easily by the following illustration which put in your note-book: (note to instructor: if possible have copies of this illustration mimeographed and distributed to each student.) [illustration: first point of aries.] there is one term i have used which does not appear in the illustration. it is the earth's central progress ((+).c.p.). the astronomical day based on the sun, is 24 hours long, as said before. the sidereal day, however, is only 23h 56m 04s long. this is due to the fact that whereas the earth is moving in its ecliptic track around the sun while revolving on its own axis, the first point of aries is a fixed point and hence never moves. the correction, then, for the difference in the length of time between a sidereal day and a mean solar day is called the earth's central progress and, of course, has to be figured for all amounts of time after mean noon at greenwich, since the sun's right ascension tables in the nautical almanac are based on time at mean noon at greenwich. now you have a formula for practically all kinds of conversion except for converting l.m.t. into l.s.t. you could do it by the formula l.m.t. + w.lo. = g.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+).c.p. = g.s.t. w.lo. = l.s.t. e.lo. + e.lo. but that involves too many operations. a shorter way, though not so simple perhaps, is as follows: l.m.t. + reduction page 2 n.a. for time after local mean noon + (.).r.a. of greenwich mean noon ± reduction page 2 n.a. for lo. in t. (w+, e-) = l.s.t. note to instructor: explain this formula by turning to page 107 n.a. and work it out by the formula l.m.t. + lo. in t (w) = g.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+).c.p. = g.s.t. lo. in t (w) = l.s.t. example: l.m.t. 10h--40m--30s lo. in t 4 --56 w + ------------ g.m.t. 15 --36 --30 (.).r.a. 5 --11 --10 (+).c.p. -2 --34 ------------ g.s.t. 20 --50 --14 lo. w 4 --56 ------------ l.s.t. 15h--54m--14s now bowditch gets this l.s.t. in still another way. turn to page 110, article 290. there the formula used is l.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+).c.p. = l.s.t, and in order to get the correct (.).r.a. and (+).c.p. the g.m.t. has to be secured by the formula l.m.t. + w.lo. = g.m.t. e.lo. let us work this same example in bowditch by the other two methods. first by the formula l.m.t. + w.lo. = g.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+).c.p. = g.s.t. w.lo. = l.s.t. e.lo. + e.lo. l.m.t. 22d-2h--00m--00s + w. lo. 5 --25 --------------------- g.m.t. 22d-7h--25m--00s (.).r.a. 1 --57 --59 (+).c.p. 1 --13 --------------------- g.s.t. 22d-9h--24m--12s w. lo. 5 --25 --------------------- l.s.t. 22d-3h--59m--12s the small difference between this answer and that of bowditch's is that the (.).r.a. for 1916 is slightly different from that of 1919. bowditch used the 1916 almanac, whereas we are working from the 1919 almanac. now turn to page 107 of the n.a. and let us work the same example in bowditch by the method used here: l.m.t. 2h 00m 00s red. for 2h 0 20 (.).r.a. 0h 1 57 59 red. lo. 5h 25m 0 53 -------------- l.s.t. 3h 59m 12s the reason i am going so much into detail in explaining methods of finding l.s.t. is because, by a very simple calculation which will be explained later, we can get our latitude at night if we know the altitude of polaris (the north star) and if we know the l.s.t. at the time of observation. some of you may think that the n.a. way is the simplest. it is given in the n.a., and in an examination it would be permissible for you to use the n.a. as a guide because, in an examination, i propose to let you have at hand the same books you would have in the chart house of a ship. on the other hand, the method given in the n.a. is not as clear to my mind as the method which starts with l.m.t., then finds with the longitude the g.m.t. that gives you, roughly speaking, the distance in time greenwich is from the sun. add to that the sun's r.a. or the distance in time the sun is from the first point of aries at greenwich mean noon. add to that the correction for the time past noon. the result is g.s.t. now all you have to do is to apply the longitude correctly to find the l.s.t., just as when you have g.m.t. and apply the longitude correctly you get l.m.t. that is a method which does not seem easy to forget, for it depends more upon simple reasoning where the others, for a beginner, depend more upon memory. however, any of the three methods is correct and can be used by you. perhaps the best way is to work a problem by two of the three that seem easiest. in this way you can check your figures. when i give you a problem that involves finding the l.s.t. i do not care how you get the l.s.t. providing it is correct when you get it. assign for night reading in bowditch the following arts.: 282-283-284-285. also the following questions: 1. given the g.m.t. and the longitude in t which is w, what is the formula for l.s.t.? 2. given the l.a.t. and longitude in t which is e, what is the formula for g.s.t.? 3. given the l.s.t. and longitude in t which is w. required g.m.t. etc. friday lecture the nautical almanac for the last two days we have been discussing time--sun time or solar time and star time or sidereal time. now let us examine the nautical almanac to see how that time is registered and how we read the various kinds of time for any instant of the day or night. before starting in, put a large cross on pages 4 and 5. for any calculations you are going to make, these pages are unnecessary and they are liable to lead to confusion. sun time of the mean sun at greenwich is given for every minute of the day in the year 1919 in the pages from 6 to 30. this is indicated by the column to the left headed g.m.t. turn to page 6 under wednesday, jan. 1st. you can see that the even hours are given from 0 to 24. remember that these are expressed in astronomical time, so that if you had jan. 2nd--10 hours a.m., you would not look in the column under jan. 2nd but under the column for jan. 1st, 22 hours, since 10 a.m. jan. 2nd is 22 o'clock jan. 1st, and no reading is used in this almanac except a reading expressed in astronomical time. now at the bottom of the column under jan. 1st you see the letters h.d. that stands for "hourly difference" and represents the amount to be added or subtracted for an odd hour from the nearest even hour. in this instance it is .2. you note that even hours 2, 4, 6, etc., are given. to find an odd hour during this astronomical day, subtract .2 from the preceding even hour. for any fraction of an hour you simply take the corresponding fraction of the h.d. and subtract it from the preceding even hour. for instance, the declination for jan. 1st--12 hours would be 23° 1.8' or 23°--1'--48", 13 hours would be 23° 1.6' or 23°--1'--36", 12-1/2 hours would be 23° 1.7' or 23°--1'--42", and 13-1/2 hours would be 23° 1.5' or 23°--1'--30". now to the right of the hours you note there is given the corresponding amount of declination and the equation of time. before going further, let us review a few facts about declination. the declination of a celestial body is its angular distance n or s of the celestial equator or equinoctial. now get clearly in your mind how we measure the angular distance from the celestial equator of any heavenly body. it is measured by the angle one of whose sides is an imaginary line drawn to the center of the earth and the other of whose sides is an imaginary line passing from the center of the earth into the celestial sphere through the center of the heavenly body whose declination you desire. now as you stand on any part of the earth, you are standing at right angles to the earth itself. hence if this imaginary line passed through you it would intersect the celestial sphere at your zenith, i.e., the point in the celestial sphere which is directly above you. now suppose you happen to be standing at a certain point on the earth and suppose that point was in 15° n latitude. and suppose at noon the center of the sun was directly over you, i.e., the center of the sun and your zenith were one and the same point. then the declination of the sun at that moment would be 15° n. in other words, your angular distance from the earth's equator (which is another way of expressing your latitude) would be precisely the same as the angular distance of the center of the sun from the celestial equator. suppose you were standing directly on the equator and the center of the sun was directly over you, then the declination of the sun would be 0°. now if the axis of the earth were always perpendicular to the plane of the sun's orbit, then the sun would always be immediately over the equator and the sun's declination would always be 0°. but you know that the axis of the earth is inclined to the plane of the sun's orbit. as the earth, then, revolves around the sun, the amount of the declination increases and then decreases according to the location of the earth at any one time with relation to the sun. on march 21st and sept. 23rd, 1919, the sun is directly over the equator and the declination is 0°. from march 21st to june 21st the sun is coming north and the declination is increasing until on june 21st--12 hours--it reaches its highest declination. from then on the sun starts to travel south, crosses the equator on sept. 23d and reaches its highest declination in south latitude on dec. 22nd, when it starts to come north again. this explains easily the length of days. when the sun is in north latitude, it is nearer our zenith, i.e., higher in the heavens. it can, therefore, be seen for a longer time during the 24 hours that it takes the earth to revolve on its axis. hence, when the sun reaches its highest declination in north latitude--june 21st--i.e., when it is farthest north from the equator and nearest our zenith (which is in 40° n latitude) it can be seen for the longest length of time. in other words, that day is the longest of the year. for the same reason, dec. 22nd, when the sun reaches its highest declination in south latitude, i.e., when it is farthest away to the south, is the shortest day in the year for us; for on that day, the sun being farthest away from our zenith and hence lowest down toward the horizon, can be seen for the shortest length of time. put in your note-book: north declination is expressed +. south declination is expressed �-. now turn to page 6 of the nautical almanac. you will see opposite jan. 1st 0h, a declination of �23° 4.2'. every calculation in this almanac is based on time at greenwich, i.e., g.m.t. so at 0h jan. 1st at greenwich--that is at noon--the sun's declination is s 23° 4.2'. you learned in the lecture the other day on solar time, that the difference between mean time and apparent time was called the equation of time. this equation of time, with the sign showing in which way it is to be applied, is given for any minute of any day in the column marked "equation of time." you will also notice that there is an h.d. for equations of time just as there is for each declination, and this h.d. should be used when finding the equation of time for an odd hour. put in your note-book: 1. the equation of time is to be applied as given in the nautical almanac when changing mean time into apparent time. 2. when changing apparent time into mean time, reverse the sign as given in the nautical almanac. that is all there is to finding sun time, either mean or apparent, for any instant of any day in the year 1919. do not forget, however, that all this data is based upon greenwich mean time. to find local mean time you must apply the longitude you are in. to find local apparent time you must first secure g.a.t. from g.m.t. and then apply the longitude. (note to instructor: make the class work out conversions here if you have time to do so and can finish the rest of the lecture by the end of the period.) so much for time by the sun. now let us examine time by the stars--sidereal time. turn to pages 2-3. there you find the right ascension of the mean sun at greenwich mean noon for every day in the year. you remember that, roughly speaking, the sun's right ascension was the distance in time the sun was from the first point of aries. so these tables give that distance (expressed in time) for noon at greenwich of every day. for the correction to be applied for all time after noon at greenwich (i.e., (+).c.p.), use the table at the bottom of the page. for instance, the (.).r.a. at greenwich 9h 24m on jan. 1st would be (.).r.a. 18h--40m--21s (+).c.p. 1 33 ------------- 18h--41m--54s now we must go back to some of the formulas we learned when discussing star time and apply them with the information we now have from the nautical almanac. if the g.m.t. on april 20th is 4h--16m--30s, what is the g.s.t. for the same moment? that is, when greenwich is 4h--16m--30s from the sun, how far is greenwich from the first point of aries? you remember the formula was g.s.t. = g.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+).c.p. g.m.t. 4h--16m--30s (.).r.a. 1 --50 -6 (+).c.p. 0--42 ------------- g.s.t. 6h--07m--18s suppose you were in lo. 74° w. what would be the r.a.m. (l.s.t.)? you remember the formula for l.s.t. from g.s.t. was the same relatively as l.m.t. from g.m.t., i.e., l.s.t. = g.s.t. w. lo. + e. lo, here it would be g.s.t. 6h--07m--18s (74° w) 4 --56 --00 -------------- l.s.t. 1h--11m--18s now these are not a collection of abstruse formulas that you are learning just for the sake of practice. they are used every clear night on board ship, or should be, and are just as vital to know as time by the sun. suppose you are at sea in lo. 70° w and your ct is october 20th 6h--4m--30s a.m., cc 2m--30s fast. you wish to get the r.a. of your m, i.e., the l.s.t. how would you go about it? the first thing to do would be to get your g.m.t. it is ct--cc. 20d--06h--04m--30s a.m. --12 ----------------- ct 19d--18h--04m--30s cc --02 --30 ----------------- g.m.t. 19d--18h--02m--00s then get your g.s.t. oct. 19d--18h--02m--00s (.).r.a. 13 --47 --38.5 (+).c.p 2 --57.7 ------------------- 19d--31h--52m--36.2s --24 ------------------- g.s.t. 19d-7h--52m--36.2s then get your l.s.t. g.s.t. 7h--52m--36.2s w.lo (--) 4 --40 ------------- l.s.t. 3h--12m--36.2s the last fact to know at this time about the almanac is found on pages 94-95. here is given a list of the brighter stars with their positions respectively in the heavens, i.e., their celestial longitude or r.a. on page 94 and their celestial latitude or declination on page 95. these stars have very little apparent motion. they are practically fixed. hence, their position in the heavens is almost the same from january to december though, of course, their position with relation to you is constantly changing, since you on the earth are constantly moving. the relationship between these various kinds of time is clearly expressed by the following diagram, which put in your note book: [illustration: going with arrow, add. going against arrow, subtract.] assign for reading in bowditch, articles 294-295-296-297-299-300-301-302-303-304-305-306-307. if any time is left, have the class work out such examples as these: 1. g.m.t. june 20th, 1919, 5h--14m--39s. in lo. 68° 49' w. required l.s.t., g.s.t., l.m.t., l.a.t. 2. l.m.t. oct. 15th, 1919, 6h--30m--20s a.m. in lo. 49° 35' 16" e. required l.s.t. 3. l.m.t. may 14th, 1919, 10h--15m.--20s a.m. lo. 56° 21' 39" w. required l.a.t. 4. w.t. april 20th, 1919, 11h--30m--14s c-w 2h--14m--59s cc 4m--30s slow. in lo. 89° 48' 30" w. required g.m.t., g.a.t., l.m.t., l.a.t., g.s.t., l.s.t. 5. what is declination and r.a. on may 15th, 1919, of polaris, arcturus, capella, regulus, altair, deneb, vega, aldebaran? 6. what is the sun's declination and r.a., time at greenwich, july 30th: 7h--14m--39s a.m. 4h--29m--14s a.m. 3h--04m--06s 11h--49m--59s 2h--14m--30s a.m.? saturday lecture correction of observed altitudes the true altitude of a heavenly body is the angular distance of its center as measured from the center of the earth. the observed altitude of a heavenly body as seen at sea by the sextant may be converted to the true altitude by the application of the following four corrections: dip, refraction, parallax and semi-diameter. dip of the horizon means an increase in the altitude caused by the elevation of the eye above the level of the sea. the following diagram illustrates this clearly: [illustration] if the eye is on the level of the sea at a, it is in the plane of the horizon cd, and the angles eac and ead are right angles or 90° each. if the eye is elevated above a, say to b, it is plain that the angles ebc and ebd are greater than right angles, or in other words, that the observer sees more than a semi-circle of sky. hence all measurements made by the sextant are too large. in other words, the elevation of the eye makes the angle too great and therefore the correction for dip is always subtracted. refraction is a curving of the rays of light caused by their entering the earth's atmosphere, which is a denser medium than the very light ether of the outer sky. the effect of refraction is seen when an oar is thrust into the water and looks as if it were bent. refraction always causes a celestial object to appear higher than it really is. this refraction is greatest at the horizon and diminishes toward the zenith, where it disappears. table 20a in bowditch gives the correction for mean refraction. it is always subtracted from the altitude. in the higher altitudes, select the correction for the nearest degree. you should avoid taking low altitudes (15° or less) when the atmosphere is not perfectly clear. haziness increases refraction. parallax is simply the difference in angular altitude of a heavenly body as measured from the center of the earth and as measured from the corresponding point on the surface of the earth. parallax is greatest when the body is in the horizon, and disappears when it is at the zenith. [illustration] when the angular altitude of the sun in this diagram is 0, the parallax abc is greatest. when the altitude is highest there is no parallax. the sun is so far away that its parallax never exceeds 9". the stars have practically none at all from the earth's surface. parallax is always to be added in the case of the sun. the semi-diameter of a heavenly body is half the angle subtended by the diameter of the visible disk at the eye of the observer. for the same body, the sd varies with the distance. thus, the difference of the sun's sd at different times of the year is due to the change of the earth's distance from the sun. [illustration] the sd is to be added to the observed altitude in case the lower limb is brought in contact with the horizon, and subtracted if the upper limb is used. probably most of the sights you take will be of the sun's lower limb, i.e., when the lower limb is brought in contact with the horizon, so all you need to remember is that in that event the sd is additive. now at first we will correct altitudes by applying each correction separately, but as soon as you get the idea, there is a short way to apply all four corrections at once. this is done in table 46. however, disregard that for the moment. put this in your note-book: dip is -. table 14 bowditch refraction is -. " 20 a bowditch parallax is +. " 16 bowditch s.d. is +. nautical almanac observed altitude of sun's lower limb is expressed (_). true altitude is expressed -(-)-. remember that before an observation is at all accurate, it must be corrected to make it a true altitude. remember also that the ie must be applied, in addition to these other corrections, in order to make the observed altitude a -(-)altitude. so there are really five corrections to make instead of four, providing, of course, your sextant has an ie. examples: 1. june 20th, 1919, observed altitude of (_) 69° 25' 30". ie + 2' 30". he 16 ft. required -(-)-. 2. april 15th, 1919, observed altitude of (_) 58° 29' 40". ie 2' 30". he 18 ft. required -(-)-. 3. march 4th, 1919, observed altitude of (_) 44° 44' 10". ie 4' 20". he 20 ft. required -(-)-. etc. week iv--navigation tuesday lecture the line of position it is practically impossible to fix your position exactly by one observation of any celestial body. the most you can expect from one sight is to fix your line of position, i.e., the line somewhere along which you are. if, for instance, you can get a sight by sextant of the sun, you may be able to work out from this sight a very accurate calculation of what your latitude is. say it is 50° n. you are practically certain, then, that you are somewhere in latitude 50° n, but just where you are you cannot tell until you get another sight for your longitude. similarly, you may be able to fix your longitude, but not be able to fix your latitude until another sight is made. celestial navigation, then, reduces itself to securing lines of position and by manipulating these lines of position in a way to be described later, so that they intersect. if, for instance, you know you are on one line running north and south and on another line running east and west, the only spot where you _can_ be on _both_ lines is where they intersect. this diagram will make that clear: [illustration] [illustration] just what a line of position is will now be explained. wherever the sun is, it must be perpendicularly above the same spot on the surface of the earth marked in the accompanying diagram by s and suppose a circle be drawn around this spot as abcde. then if a man at a takes an altitude, he will get precisely the same one as men at b, c, d, and e, because they are all at equal distances from the sun, and hence on the circumference of a circle whose center is s. conversely, if several observers situated at different parts of the earth's surface take simultaneous altitudes, and these altitudes are all the same, then the observers must all be on the circumference of a circle and _only one_ circle. if they are not on that circle, the altitude they take will be greater or less than the one in question. [illustration] now such a circle on the surface of the earth would be very large--so large that a small arc of its circumference, say 25 or 30 miles, would be practically a straight line. suppose s to be the point over which the sun is vertical and gf part of the circumference of a circle drawn around the point. suppose you were at b and from an altitude of the sun, taken by sextant, you worked out your position. you would find yourself on a little arc abc which, for all purposes in navigation, is a straight line at right angles to the true bearing of the sun from the point s. you can readily see this from the above diagram. suppose your observer is at h. his line is ghi, which is again a straight line at right angles to the true bearing of the sun. he is not certain he is at h. he may be at g or i. he knows, however, he is somewhere on the line ghi, though where he is on that line he cannot tell exactly. that line ghi or abc or def is the line of position and such a line is called a sumner line, after capt. thomas sumner, who explained the theory some 45 years ago. put in your note-book: any person taking an altitude of a celestial body must be, for all practical purposes, on a straight line which is at right angles to the true bearing of the body observed. it should be perfectly clear now that if the sun bears due north or south of the observer, i.e., if the sun is on the observer's meridian, the resulting line of position _must_ run due east and west. in other words it is a parallel of latitude. and that explains why a noon observation is the best of the day for getting your latitude accurately. again, if the sun bears due east or west the line of position must bear due north and south. and that explains why a morning or afternoon sight--about 8-9 a.m. or 3-4 p.m., if the sun bears either east or west respectively, is the best time for determining your north and south line, or longitude. now suppose you take an observation at 8 a.m. and you are not sure of your d.r. latitude. your 8 a.m. position when the sun was nearly due east, will give, you an almost accurate north and south line and longitude. suppose that from 8 a.m. to noon you sailed ne 60 miles. suppose at noon you get another observation. that will give you an east and west line, for then the sun bears true north and south. an east and west line is your correct latitude. now you have an 8 a.m. observation which is nearly correct for longitude and a noon position which is correct for latitude. how can you combine the two so as to get accurately both your latitude and longitude? put in your note-book: through the 8 a.m. position, draw a line on the chart at right angles to the sun's true bearing. suppose the sun bore true e 1/2 s. then your line of position would run n 1/2 e. mark it 1st position line. [illustration] now draw a line running due east and west at right angles to the n-s noon bearing of the sun and mark this line second position line. advance your first position line the true course and distance sailed from 8 a.m. to noon, and through the extremity draw a third line exactly parallel to the first line of position. where a third line (the first position line advanced) intersects the second position line, will be your position at noon. it cannot be any other if your calculations are correct. you knew you were somewhere on your 8 a.m. line, you know you are somewhere on your noon line, and the only spot where you can be on both at once is the point where they intersect. you don't necessarily have to wait until noon to work two lines. you can do it at any time if a sufficient interval of time between sights is allowed. the whole matter simply resolves itself into getting your two lines of position, having them intersect and taking the point of intersection as the position of your ship. there is one other way to get two lines to intersect and it is one of the best of all for fixing your position accurately. it is by getting lines of position by observation of two stars. if, for instance, you can get two stars, one east and the other west of you, you can take observations of both so closely together as to be practically simultaneous. then your easterly star would give you a line like aa' and the westerly star the line bb' and you would be at the intersection s. [illustration] assign for reading: articles in bowditch 321-322-323-324. spend the rest of the period in getting times from the n. a., getting true altitudes from observed altitudes, working examples in mercator sailing, etc. wednesday lecture latitude by meridian altitude a meridian altitude is an altitude taken when the sun or other celestial body observed bears true south or north of the observer or directly overhead. in other words, when the celestial body is on your meridian and you take an altitude of the body by sextant at that instant, the altitude you get is called a meridian altitude. in the case of the sun, such a meridian altitude is at apparent noon. now latitude is always secured most accurately at noon by means of your meridian altitude. the reason for this was explained in yesterday's lecture. the general formula for latitude by meridian altitude is (put in your note-book): latitude by meridian altitude = zenith distance (zd) ± declination (dec). zenith distance is the distance in degrees, minutes and seconds from your zenith to the center of the observed body. for simplicity's sake, we will consider the sun only as the observed body. then the zenith distance is the distance from your zenith to the center of the sun. now suppose that you and the sun are both north of the equator and you are north of the sun. if you can determine exactly how far north you are of the sun and how far north the sun is of the equator, you will, by adding these two measurements together, know how far north of the equator you are, i.e., your latitude. as already explained, the declination of the sun is its distance in degrees, minutes and seconds from the equator and the exact amount of declination is, of course, corrected to the proper g.m.t. your zenith distance is the distance in the celestial sphere you are from the sun. you know that it is 90° from your zenith to the horizon. your zenith distance, therefore, is the difference between the true meridian altitude of the sun, obtained by your sextant, and 90°. hence, having secured the true meridian altitude of the sun, you have only to subtract it from 90° to find your zenith distance, i.e., how far you are from the sun. this diagram will make the whole matter clear: [illustration: a | | b (sun) | / | / | / | / |<-/ | / \ 90° |/ | +------v---------------------c a = zenith, b = sun, c = horizon.] the arc abc measures 90°. that is the distance from your zenith to the horizon. now if bc is the true meridian altitude of the sun at noon, 90°-bc or ab is your zenith distance. if bc measures by sextant 60°, ab measures 90°-60° or 30°. this 30° is your zenith distance. now suppose that from the nautical almanac we find that the g.m.t. corresponding to the time at which we measured the meridian altitude of the sun shows the sun's declination to be 10° n. well, if you are 30° north of the sun, and the sun is 10° north of the equator, you must be 40° north of the equator or in latitude 40° n. for that is all latitude is, namely, the distance in degrees, minutes and seconds you are due north or south of the equator. that is the first and simplest case. another case is when you are somewhere in north latitude and the sun's declination is south. then the situation would, roughly, look like this: [illustration: bc = altitude of the sun, ab = zenith distance and db = sun's declination.] in this case, your distance north of the equator ad would be your zenith distance ab minus the sun's declination db. this diagram is not strictly correct, for the observer's position on the earth 0 appears to be south of the equator instead of north of the equator. that is because the diagram is on a flat piece of paper instead of on a globe. so far as illustrating the zenith distance minus the declination, however, the diagram is correct. the last case is where you are, say, 10° n of the sun (your zenith distance is 10°) and the sun is in 20° s declination. in that case you would have to subtract your zenith distance from the sun's declination to get your latitude, for the sun's latitude (its declination) is greater than yours. now from these three cases we deduce the following directions, which put in your note-book: begin to measure the altitude of the sun shortly before noon. by bringing its image down to the horizon, you can detect when its altitude stops increasing and starts to decrease. at that instant the sun is on your meridian, it is noon at the ship, and the angle you read from your sextant is the meridian altitude of the sun. to work out your latitude, name the meridian altitude s if the sun is south of you and n if north of you. correct the observed altitude to a true altitude by table 46. if the altitude is s, the zenith distance is n or vice versa. (note to instructor: if the sun is south of you, you are north of the sun and vice versa.) correct the declination for the proper g.m.t. as shown by chronometer (corrected). if zenith distance and declination are both north or both south, add them and the sum will be the latitude, n or s as indicated. if one is n, and the other s, subtract the less from the greater and the result will be the latitude in, named n or s after the greater. example: at sea june 15th, observed altitude of (_) 71° 15´ s, ie--47´, he 25 ft. ct 3h--34m--15s p.m. required latitude of ship. (_) 71° 15' 00 s ie -47' corr. -36 24 he + 10 36 ------------------ -------- -(-) 70° 38' 36" s corr. -36' 24" - 90 00 00 ------------------ zd 19° 21' 24" n dec. 23 17 15 n (g.m.t. june 15--3h 34m 15s) ------------------ lat. 42° 38' 39" n ------------------assign for night work or to be worked in class room such examples as the following: 1. june 1st, 1919. (_) 33° 50' 00" s. g.m.t. 8h 55m 44s. he 20 ft. ie + 4' 3". required latitude in at noon. 2. april 2nd, 1919. (_) 12° 44' 30" n. ct was 2d 5h 14m 39s a.m., which was 1m 40s slow on march 1st (same ct) and 4m 29s fast on march 15th (same ct). ie -2' 20". he 22 ft. required latitude in at noon. assign for night work reading also, the following articles in bowditch: 344 and 223. thursday lecture azimuths of the sun this is a peculiar word to spell and pronounce but its definition is really very simple. put in your note-book: the azimuth of a heavenly body is the angle at the zenith of the observer formed by the observer's meridian and a line drawn to the center of the body observed. azimuths are named from the latitude in and toward the e in the a.m. and from the latitude in and toward the w in the p.m. all this definition means is that, no matter where you are in n latitude, for instance, if you face n, the azimuth of the sun will be the true bearing of the sun from you. the same holds true for moon, star or planet, but in this lecture we will say nothing of the star azimuths for, in some other respects, they are found somewhat differently from the sun azimuths. put this in your note-book: to find an azimuth of the sun: note the time of taking the azimuth by chronometer. apply chronometer correction, if any, to get the g.m.t. convert g.m.t. into g.a.t. by applying the equation of time. convert g.a.t. into l.a.t. by applying the longitude in time. the result is l.a.t. or s.h.a. with the correct l.a.t., latitude and declination, enter the azimuth tables to get the sun's true bearing, i.e., its azimuth. example: march 15th, 1919. ct 10h -4m -32s. d.r. latitude 40° 10' n, longitude 74° w. find the tz. g.m.t. 10h--04m--32s eq. t. --09 --10 g.a.t. 9h--55m--22s g.a.t. 9h--55m--22s lo. in t. 4 --56 --00 (w--) l.a.t. 4h--59m--22s latitude and declination opp. name. tz = n 101° 30'w we will take up later a further use of azimuths to find the error of your compass. right now all you have to keep in mind is what an azimuth is and how you apply the formulas already given you to get the information necessary to enter the azimuth tables for the sun's true bearing at any time of the astronomical day when the sun can be seen. in consulting these tables it must be remembered that if your l.a.t. or s.h.a. is, astronomically, 20h (a.m.), you must subtract 12 hours in order to bring the time within the scope of these tables which are arranged from apparent six o'clock a.m. to noon and from apparent noon to 6 p.m. respectively. we are taking up sun azimuths today in order to get a thorough understanding of them before beginning a discussion of the marc st. hilaire method which we will have tomorrow. you must get clearly in your minds just what a line of position is and how it is found. yesterday i tried to explain what a line of position was, i.e., a line at right angles to the sun's or other celestial body's true bearing--in other words, a line at right angles to the sun's or other celestial body's azimuth. today i tried to show you how to find your azimuth from the azimuth tables for any hour of the day. tomorrow we will start to use azimuths in working out sights for lines of position by the marc st. hilaire method. note to instructor: spend the rest of the time in finding sun azimuths in the tables by working out such examples as these: 1. april 29th, 1919. d.r. latitude 40° 40' n, longitude 74° 55' 14" w. ct 10h--14m--24s. cc 4m--30s slow. find tz. 2. may 15th, 1919. d.r. latitude 19° 20' s, longitude 40° 15' 44" e. ct 10h--44m--55s a.m. cc 3m--10s fast. find tz. note to instructor: if possible, give more examples to find tz and also some examples on latitude by meridian altitude. assign for night work reading the following articles in bowditch: 371-372-373-374-375. also, examples to find tz. friday lecture marc st. hilaire method by a sun sight you have learned how to get your latitude by an observation at noon. by the marc st. hilaire method, which we are to take up today, you will learn how to get a line of position, at any hour of the day. by having this line of position intersect your parallel of latitude, you will be able to establish the position of your ship, both as to its latitude and longitude. now you have already learned that in order to get your latitude accurately, you must wait until the sun is on your meridian, i.e., bears due north or south of you, and then you apply a certain formula to get your latitude. when the sun is on or near the prime vertical (i.e., due east or west) you might apply another set of rules, which you have not yet learned, to get your longitude. by the marc st. hilaire method, the same set of rules apply for getting a line of position at any time of the day, no matter what the position of the observed body in the heavens may be. just one condition is necessary, and this condition is necessary in all calculations of this character, i.e., an accurate measurement of the observed body's altitude is essential. what we do in working out the marc st. hilaire method, is to assume our dead reckoning position to be correct. with this d. r. position as a basis, we compute an altitude of the body observed. now this altitude would be correct if our d. r. position were correct and vice versa. at the same time we measure by sextant the altitude of the celestial body observed, say, the sun. if the computed altitude and the actual observed altitude coincide, the d. r. position is correct. if they do not, the computed altitude must be corrected and the d. r. position corrected to coincide with the observed altitude. just how this is done will be explained in a moment. put in your note-book: _formula for obtaining line of position by m. st. h. method._ i. three quantities must be known either from observation or from dead reckoning. 1. the s. h. a., marked "t." note: the method for finding s. h. a. (t) differs when the sun or star is used as follows: (a) for the sun: get g.m.t. from the corrected chronometer time. apply the equation of time to find the g.a.t. apply the d.r. lo. (-w) (+e) and the result is l.a.t. or s.h.a. as required. (b) for a star: (note to pupils: leave this blank to be filled in when we take up stars in more detail.) 2. the latitude, marked "l." 3. the declination of the observed body, marked "d." ii. add together the log haversine of the s.h.a. (table 45), the log cosine of the lat. (table 44), and the log cosine of the dec. (table 44) and call the sum s. s is a log haversine and must always be less than 10. if greater than 10, subtract 10 or 20 to bring it less than 10. iii. with the log haversine s enter table 45 in the adjacent parallel column, take out the corresponding natural haversine, which mark n_{s}. iv. find the algebraic difference of the latitude and declination, and from table 45 take out the natural haversine of this algebraic difference angle. mark it n_{d±l} v. add the n_{s} to the n_{d±l}, and the result will be the natural haversine of the calculated zenith distance. formula n_{zd} = n_{s} + n_{d±l} vi. subtract this calculated zenith distance from 90° to get the calculated altitude. vii. find the difference between the calculated altitude and the true altitude and call it the altitude difference. viii. in your azimuth table, find the azimuth for the proper "t," l and d. ix. lay off the altitude difference along the azimuth either away from or toward the body observed, according as to whether the true altitude, observed by sextant, is less or greater than the calculated altitude. [illustration] x. through the point thus reached, draw a line at right angles to the azimuth. this line will be your line of position, and the point thus reached, which may be read from the chart or obtained by use of table 2 from the d. r. position, is the nearest to the actual position of the observer which you can obtain by the use of any method from one sight only. example: at sea, may 18th, 1919, a.m. (_) 29° 41' 00". d.r. latitude 41° 30' n, longitude 33° 38' 45" w. wt 7h 20m 45s a.m. c-w 2h 17m 06s cc + 4m 59s. ie--30". he 23 ft. required line of position and most probable position of ship. wt 18d - 7h -20m -45s a.m. -12 ----------------------- wt 17d -19h -20m -45s c-w 2 -17 -06 corr. + 9' 34" ----------------------- ie - 30 ct 17d -21h -37m -51s ----------- cc + 4 -59 + 9' 04" ----------------------- g.m.t. 17d -21h -42m -50s (_) 29° 41' 00" eq. t. + 3 -47 + 9 04 ----------------------- ----------- g.a.t. 17d -21h -46m -37s -(-) 29° 50' 04" lo. in t 2 -14 -35 (w--) ----------------------- log hav 9.48368 l.a.t.(t) 17d -19h -32m -02s log cos 9.87446 lat. 41° 30' n log cos 9.97473 dec. 19° 21' 25" n ------- log hav s 9.33287 n s .21521 l d 22° 08' 35" n d ± l .03687 ------- calc. zd 60° 16' 30" n zd .25208 -90° 00 00 ------------ tz found from table to be cal. alt. 29° 43' 30" n 90° e. -(-) 29° 50' 04" ------------ alt. diff 6' 34" toward. _ course. dist. diff. lat. dep. diff. lo._ 90° 6' 34" 0 6.5 8.6 d.r. lat. 41° 30' n d.r. lo. 33° 38' 45" w diff. lat. - diff. lo. 8 36 e --------- ------------ most probable fix lat. 41° 30' n lo. 33° 30' 09" w as azimuth is n 90° e, line of position runs due n & s (360°) through lat. 41° 30' n. lo. 33° 30' 09" w. assign for work in class and for night work examples such as the following: 1. july 11th, 1919. (_) 45° 35' 30", lat. by d. r. 50° 00' n, lo. 40° 04' w. he 15 ft. ie--4'. ct (corrected) 5h. 38m 00s p.m. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable fix of ship. 2. may 16th, 1919, a.m. (_) 64° 01' 15", d. r. lat. 39° 45' n, lo. 60° 29' w. he 36 ft. ie + 2' 30". ct 2h 44m 19s. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable fix of ship. etc. saturday lecture examples on marc st. hilaire method by a sun sight 1. nov. 1st, 1919. a.m. at ship. wt 9h 40m 15s. c--w 4h 54m 00s. d. r. lat. 40° 50' n, lo. 73° 50' w. (_) 27° 59'. he 14 ft. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable position of ship. 2. may 30th, 1919. p.m. at ship. d. r. lat. 38º 14' 33" n, lo. 15° 38' 49' w. the mean of a series of observations of (_) was 39° 05' 40°. ie--01' 00". he 27 ft. wt 3h 4m 49s. c--w 1h 39m 55s. c.c. fast, 01m 52s. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method, and most probable position of ship. 3. oct. 21st, 1919, a.m. d. r. lat. 40° 12' 38" n, lo. 69° 48' 54" w. the mean of a series of observations of (_) was 19° 21' 20". ie + 02' 10". he 26 ft. wt 7h 58m 49s. c--w 4h 51m 45s. c. slow, 03m 03s. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable position of ship. 4. june 1st, 1919, p.m. at ship. lat. d. r. 35° 26' 15" s, lo. 10° 19' 50" w. w.t. 3h 30m 00s. c--w 0h 20m 38s. cc 1m 16s slow. (_) 16° 15' 40". ie + 2' 10". he 26 ft. required line of position and most probable fix of ship. 5. jan. 5th, 1919. a.m. d. r. lat. 36° 29' 38" n, lo. 51° 07' 44" w. the mean of a series of observations of (_) was 23° 17' 20". ie + 01' 50". he 19 ft. wt 7h 11m 37s. c--w 5h 59m 49s. c. slow 58s. required line of position and most probable fix of ship. week v--navigation tuesday lecture a short talk on the planets and stars identification of stars _1. the planets_ you should acquaint yourself with the names of the planets and their symbols. these can be found opposite page 1 in the nautical almanac. all the planets differ greatly in size and in physical condition. three of them--mercury, venus and mars--are somewhat like the earth in size and in general characteristics. so far as we know, they are solid, cool bodies similar to the earth and like the earth, surrounded by atmospheres of cool vapors. the outer planets on the other hand, i.e., jupiter, saturn, uranus, and neptune, are tremendously large--many times the size of the earth, and resemble the sun more than the earth in their physical appearance and condition. they are globes of gases and vapors so hot as to be practically self luminous. they probably contain a small solid nucleus, but the greater part of them is nothing but an immense gaseous atmosphere filled with minute liquid particles and heated to an almost unbelievably high temperature. of the actual surface conditions on venus and mercury, little is definitely known. mercury is a very difficult object to observe on account of its proximity to the sun. it is never visible at night; it must be examined in the twilight just before sunrise or just after sunset, or in the full daylight. in either case the glare of the sun renders the planet indistinct, and the heat of the sun disturbs our atmosphere so as to make accurate visibility almost impossible. the surface of mercury is probably rough and irregular and much like the moon. like the moon, too, it has practically no atmosphere. mercury rotates on its axis once in 88 days. its day and year are of the same length. thus the planet always presents the same face toward the sun and on that side there is perpetual day while on the other side is night--unbroken and cold beyond all imagination. venus resembles the earth more nearly than any other heavenly body. its diameter is within 120 miles of the earth's diameter. the exasperating fact about venus, however, is that it is shrouded in deep banks of clouds and vapors which make it impossible for us to secure any definite facts about it. the atmosphere about venus is so dense that sunlight is reflected from the upper surface of the clouds around the planet and so reaches our telescopes without having penetrated to the surface at all. from time to time markings have been discovered that at first seemed real but whether they are just clouds or tops of mountains has never really been established. of all the planets, we know more about mars than any other. and yet practically nothing is actually known in regard to conditions on the surface of this planet. we do know, however, that mars more nearly resembles a miniature of our earth than any other celestial body. the diameter of mars is 4,210 miles--almost exactly half the earth's diameter. the surface area of mars is just about equal to the total area of dry land on the earth. like the earth, mars rotates about an axis inclined to the plane of its orbit, and the length of a martian day is very nearly equal to our own. the latest determinations give the length of a martian solar day as 24h 39m 35s. fortunately for us, mars is surrounded by a very light and transparent atmosphere through which we are able to discover with our telescopes, many permanent facts. the most noticeable of these are the dazzling white "polar caps" first identified by sir william herschel in 1784. during the long winter in the northern hemisphere, the cap at the north pole steadily increases in size, only to diminish during the next summer under the hot rays of the sun. these discoveries establish without doubt the presence of vapors in the martian atmosphere which precipitate with cold and evaporate with heat. the polar caps, then, are some form of snow and ice or possible hoar frost. outside the polar caps the surface of mars is rough, uneven and of different colors. some of the darker markings appear to be long, straight hollows. they are the so-called "canals" discovered by schiaparelli in 1877. the term "canal" is an unfortunate one. the word implies the existence of water and the presence of beings of sufficient intelligence and mechanical ability to construct elaborate works. flammarion in france and lowell in the united states claim the word is correctly used, i.e., that these markings are really canals and that mars is actually inhabited. the consensus of opinion among the most celebrated astronomers is contrary to this view. most astronomers agree that these canals may not exist as drawn--that they are to great extent due to defective vision. there is no conclusive proof of man-made work on mars, nor of the existence of conscious life of any kind. it may be there but conclusive proof of it is still lacking. _2. the stars_ the planets are often called wanderers in the sky because of their ever changing position. sharply distinguished from them, therefore, are the "fixed" stars. these appear as mere points of light and always maintain the same relative positions in the heavens. thousands of years ago the "great dipper" hung in the northern sky just as it will hang tonight and as it will hang for thousands of years to come. yet these bodies are not actually fixed in space. in reality they are all in rapid motion, some moving one way and some another. it is their tremendous distance from us that makes this motion inappreciable. the sun seems far away from us, but the nearest star is 200,000 times as far away from us as is the sun. expressed in miles, the figure is so huge as to be incomprehensible. a special unit has, therefore, been invented--a unit represented by the distance traversed by light in one year. in one second, light travels over 186,000 miles. in 8-1/3 minutes, light reaches us from the sun and, in doing so, covers the distance that would take the vaterland over four centuries to travel. yet the nearest star is over four "light years" distant--it is so far away that it requires over four years for its light to reach us. when you look at the stars tonight you see them, not as they are, but as they were, even centuries ago. polaris, for instance, is distant some sixty "light years." had it disappeared from the heavens at the time lee surrendered to grant, we should still be seeing it and entirely unaware of its disappearance. now each star in the heavens is in reality a sun, i.e., a vast globe of gas and vapor, intensely hot and in a continuous state of violent agitation, radiating forth heat and light, every pulsation of which is felt throughout the universe. so closely indeed do many of the stars resemble the sun, that the light which they emit cannot be distinguished from sunlight. some of them are larger and hotter than the sun--some smaller and cooler. yet the sun we see can be regarded as a typical star and from our knowledge of it we can form a fairly correct idea of the nature and characteristics of these other stars. anyone knows that the stars vary in brightness. some of this variation is due partly to actual differences among the stars themselves and partly to varying distances. if all the stars were alike, then those which were farthest away would be faintest and we could judge a star's distance by its brilliancy. this is not the case, however. some of the more brilliant stars are far more distant than some of the fainter ones. there are stars near and remote and an apparently faint star may in reality be larger and more brilliant than a star of the first magnitude. vega, for instance, is infinitely farther away from us than the sun, yet its brightness is more than 50 times that of the sun. polaris, still farther away, has 100 times the light and heat of the sun. in fact the sun, considered as a star, is relatively small and feeble. _3. identification of stars_ only the brighter stars can be used in navigation. so much light is lost in the double reflection in the mirrors of the sextant, that stars fainter than the third magnitude can seldom be observed. this reduces the number of stars available for navigation to within very narrow limits, for there are only 142 stars all told which are of the third magnitude or brighter. the nautical almanac gives a list of some 150 stars which may be used, but as a matter of fact, the list might be reduced to some 50 or 60 without serious detriment to the practical navigator. about 30 of these are of the second magnitude or greater and hence easily found. it is not difficult to learn to know 30 or 40 of the brighter stars, so that they can be recognized at any time. to aid in locating the stars, many different star charts and atlases have been published, but most of them are so elaborate that they confuse as much as they help. the simpler the chart, the fewer stars it pretends to locate, the better for practical purposes. also, all charts are of necessity printed on a flat surface and such a surface can never represent in their true values, all parts of a sphere. a chart, therefore, which covers a large part of the heavens, is bound to give a distorted idea of distances or directions in some part of the sky and must be used with caution. there are a few stars which form striking figures of one kind or another. these can always be easily located and form a starting point, so to speak, from which to begin a search for other stars. of these groups the great dipper is the most prominent in the northern sky and beginning with this the other constellations can be located one by one. when the groups or constellations are not known, then any individual star can be readily found by means of its right ascension, and declination. as you have already learned, declination is equivalent to latitude on the earth and right ascension practically equivalent to longitude on the earth, except that whereas longitude on the earth is measured e. and w. from greenwich, right ascension is measured to the east all the way around the sky, from the first point of aries. with this in mind, you can easily see that if a star's r.a. is less than yours, i.e., less than l.s.t. or the r.a. of your meridian, the star is not as far eastward in the heavens, as is your zenith. in other words it is to the west of you. and vice versa, if the star's r.a. is greater than yours, the star is more to the eastward than you and hence to the east of you. moreover, as r.a. is reckoned all around a circle and in hours, each hour's difference between the star's r.a. and yours is 1/24 of 360° or 15°. hence if a star's r.a. is, for instance, 2 hours greater than yours, the star will be found to the east of your meridian and approximately 30° from your meridian, providing the star is in approximately the same vertical east and west plane as is your zenith. when the general east or west direction of any star has been determined, its north or south position can at once be found from its declination. if you are in latitude 40° n. your celestial horizon to the south will be 90° from 40° n. or 50° s. and to the north it will be 90° + 40° n. = 130° or 40° n. (below the n. pole). the general position of the equator in the sky is always readily found according to the latitude you are in. if you are in 40° n. latitude, the celestial equator would intersect the celestial sphere at a point 40° south of you. knowing this, the angular distance of a star north or south of the equator (which is its declination) should be easily found. remember, however, that the equator in the sky is a curved line and hence a star in the east or west which looks to be slightly north of you may actually be south of you. put in your note-book: if the star is west of you its r.a. is less than yours. if east of you, its r.a. is greater than yours. star will be found approximately 15° to east or west of you for each hourly difference between the star's r.a. and your r.a. (l.s.t.). having established the star's general east and west direction, its north and south position can be found from its declination. _4. time of meridian passage of a star_ it is often invaluable to know first, when a certain star will be on your meridian or second, what star will be on your meridian at a certain specified time. here is the formula for each case, which put in your note book: 1. to find when a certain star will cross your meridian, take from the nautical almanac, the r.a. of the mean sun for greenwich mean noon of the proper astronomical day. apply to it the correction for longitude in time (west +, east -) as per table at bottom of page 2, nautical almanac, and the result will be the r.a. of the mean sun at local mean noon, i.e., the distance in sidereal time the mean sun is from the first point of aries when it is on your meridian. subtract this from the star's r.a., i.e., the distance in sidereal time the star is from the first point of aries (adding 24 hours to the star's r.a., if necessary to make the subtraction possible). the result will be the distance in sidereal time the star is from your meridian i.e., the time interval from local mean noon expressed in units of sidereal time. convert this sidereal time interval into a mean time interval by always subtracting the reduction for the proper number of hours, minutes and seconds as given in table 8, bowditch. the result will be the local mean time of the star's meridian passage. example: april 22nd, 1919, a.m. at ship. in lo. 75° e. what is the local mean time of the star etamin's meridian passage? r.a.m.s. gr. 21d--0h 1h--54m--02s red. for 75° e (--5h) --49.3 ________________ r.a.m.s. local mean noon 1h--53m--12.7s star's r.a. 17h--54m--44s - 1 --53 --12.7 ___________________ sidereal interval from l.m. noon 16h--01m--31.3s red. for sid. int. (table 8) -2 --37.3 ___________________ l.m.t. 21 d 15h--58m--54s hence, star will cross meridian at 3h--58m--54s a.m. april 22nd. 2. to find at any hour desired what star will cross your meridian, take the r.a. of the mean sun for greenwich mean noon of the proper astronomical day. apply to it the correction for longitude in time (west +, east -) as per table at bottom of page 2, nautical almanac, and the result will be the r.a. of the mean sun at local mean noon; i.e., the distance in sidereal time the mean sun is from the first point of aries when it is on your meridian. suppose you wish to find the star at 10 p.m. add 10 sidereal hours to the sun's r.a. just found. the result will be the r.a. of your meridian at approximately 10 p.m. select in the table on p. 94 the r.a. of the star nearest in time to your r.a. just secured. subtract the r.a. of the mean sun at local mean noon from the star's r.a. just found on p. 94 of the n.a. and the result will be the exact distance in sidereal time the star you have just identified is from your meridian, i.e., the time interval from local mean noon expressed in units of sidereal time. convert this sidereal time interval into a mean time interval by always subtracting for the proper number of hours, minutes and seconds as per table 8, bowditch. you will then have secured the name of the star desired and the exact local mean time of the star's meridian passage. example no. 2: at sea dec. 14, 1919. desired to get a star on my meridian at 11 p.m. lo. by d.r. 74° w. (.).r.a.g.m.n. 17h--28m--26s corr. 74° w. (4th 56m w + ) + 0 --48.6 ___________________ (.).r.a. your m. 17h--29m--14.6s + 11 ___________________ r.a.m. 28h--29m--14.6s -24 ___________________ 4h--29m--14.6s r.a. of star aldebaran 4h--31m--18.5s star r.a. 28h--31m--18.5 (.).r.a. your m. 17 -29--14.6 --------------- sid. int. from l.m. noon 11h--02m--03.9s red for sid. int. (table 8) -1 --48 --------------- l.m.t. 11h--00m--15.9s aldebaran, then, is the star and the exact l.m.t. of its meridian passage will be 11h 00m 15.9s note: if the r.a.m. is more than 24 hours, deduct 24 hours. you will know whether the star is north or south of you by its declination. if you are in north latitude, the star will be south of you if its declination is south or if its declination is north and less than your latitude. if its declination and your latitude are both north and its declination is greater, the star will be north of you. the same principle applies if you are in south latitude. assign any of the following to be worked in the class room or at night: 1. at sea, november 1st, 1919. in latitude 40° n., longitude 74° w. wt 8h 30m p.m. observed unknown star about 80° east of my meridian and 25° south of me. what was the star? 2. at sea, december 1st, 1919. ct 10h 45m 01s. cc 20m 16s slow. in d.r. latitude 30° n., longitude 60° 30' w. observed unknown star about 60° west of meridian and about 22° s. what was the star? 3. march 15th, 1919. in d.r. latitude 10° 42' n, longitude 150° 14' 28" w. ct 5h 14m 28s. cc--2m 10s. observed unknown star almost on my meridian and about 28° north of me. what was the star? 4. aug. 3, 1919, p.m. at ship. in d.r. latitude 37° 37' n. longitude 38° 37' w. at what local mean time will the star antares be on the meridian? 5. what star will transit at about 4:10 a.m. on aug. 3rd, 1919? in d.r. position latitude 38° 10' n, longitude 34° 38' w. 6. at what local mean time will the star arcturus transit on july 17th, 1919, in latitude 45° 35' n., longitude 28° 06' w.? wednesday lecture latitude by meridian altitude of a star--latitude by polaris (pole or north star) to find your latitude by taking an altitude of a star when it is on your meridian, is one of the quickest and easiest of calculations in all navigation. the formula is exactly the same as for latitude by meridian altitude of the sun. in using a star, however, you do not have to consult your nautical almanac to get the g.m.t. and from that the declination. all you have to do is to turn to page 95 of the nautical almanac, on which is given the declination for every month of the year, of any star you desire. the rest of the computation is, as said before, the same as for latitude by the sun and follows the formula lat. = dec. ± z.d. (90° true altitude). as when working latitude by the sun, you subtract the z.d. and dec. when of opposite name and add them when of the same name. put in your note-book: formula: lat. = dec. ± z.d. (90° true altitude). at sea, dec. 24th, 1919. meridian altitude star aldebaran 52° 36' s. he 20 ft. required latitude of ship. obs. alt. 52° 36' s corr. 5 08 --------- true alt. 52° 30' 52" s 90 00 00 --------- z.d. 37° 29' 08" n dec. 16 21 00 n --------- lat. 53° 50' 08" n note to instructor: have class work examples such as the following before taking up latitude by pole star: 1. at sea, may 5th, 1919. meridian altitude star capella, 70° 29' s. he 32 ft. required latitude of ship. 2. at sea, august 14th, 1919. meridian altitude star vega, 60° 15' 45" n. he 28 ft. required latitude of ship. etc. _latitude by polaris_ (_pole or north star_) you remember we examined the formula in the n.a. for lat. by the pole star when we were discussing sidereal time some weeks ago. we will now take up a practical case of securing your latitude by this method. before doing so, however, it may be of benefit to understand how we can get our latitude by the pole star. in the first place, imagine that the pole star is directly over the n pole of the earth and is fixed. if that were so, and imagine for a minute that it is so, then it would be exactly 90° from the pole star to the celestial equator. now, no matter where you stand, it is 90° from your zenith to your true horizon. hence if you stood at the equator, your zenith would be in the celestial equator and your true horizon would exactly cut the pole star. now, supposing you went 10° n of the equator. then your northerly horizon would drop by 10° and the pole star would have an altitude of 10°. in other words, when you were in 10° n latitude, the pole star would measure 10° high by sextant. and so on up to 90°, where the pole star would be directly over you and you would be at the north pole. now all this is based upon the pole star being in the celestial sphere exactly over the north pole of the earth. it is not, however. owing to the revolution of the earth, the star appears to move in an orbit of a maximum of 1° 08'. just what part of that 1° 08' is to be applied to the true altitude of the star for any time of the sidereal day, has been figured out in the table on page 107 of the nautical almanac. what you have to get first is the l.s.t. find from the table the correction corresponding to the l.s.t. and apply this correction with the proper sign to the true altitude of polaris. the result is the latitude in. put in your note-book: to get latitude by pole star, first get l.s.t. this can be secured by using any one of the three formulas given you in week iii--thursday's lecture on sidereal time and right ascension. then proceed as per formula in n.a. * * * * * note to instructor: spend rest of time in solving examples similar to the following: 1. at sea, feb. 14th, 1919. ct 13d 21h 52m 33s. cc 1m 14s fast. in lo. 72° 49' 00" w. ie + 1' 10". he 15 ft. observed altitude polaris 42° 21' 30" n. required latitude in. 2. at sea, march 31st, 1919. in lo. 160° 15' e. ct 7h 15m 19s. observed altitude polaris 38° 18' n. ie + 3' 00". he 17 ft. required latitude in. etc. thursday lecture marc st. hilaire method by a star sight you have already been given instructions for finding a line of position by the marc st. hilaire method, using a sight of the sun. today we will work out the same method by using a sight of a star. put this in your note-book here and also under i(b) of the formula given you in week iv--friday's lecture: get g.m.t. from corrected chronometer time. with your g.m.t. find the corresponding g.s.t. according to the formula already given you. with your g.s.t. apply the d.r. longitude (w. lo.) --------- (+ l. lo.) to get the l.s.t. with the l.s.t. and the star's r.a. subtract the less from the greater and the result is the star's h.a. at the ship or "t." in using sun azimuth tables always take "t" from the p.m. column. mark azimuth n or s according to the lat. in and e or w, according as to whether the star is east or west of your meridian. then proceed as in the case of a sun sight. formula: (-w. lo.) g.m.t. + (.).r.a. + (+)cp = g.s.t. --------= l.s.t.--star's r.a. (+e. lo.) (or vice versa if star's r.a. is greater) = star's h.a. at ship (t). then proceed as in case of sun sight. example: on may 31st, 1919, in d.r. lat. 50° n, lo. 45° w, g.m.t. 31d 14h 33m 30s. what was star's h.a. at ship? g.m.t. 14h -33m -30s (.).r.a. 4 -31 -44.2 (+).c.p. 2 -23 ------------------- g.s.t. 19h -07m -37.2s w lo.- 3 -00 -00 ------------------- l.s.t. 16h -07m -37.2s star's r.a.(spica) 13 -20 -59 ------------------- star's h.a. (t) 2h -46m -38.2s now let us work out some examples by this method: 1. nov. 29th, 1919. ct 30d 2h 14m 39s a.m. cc 3m 14s fast. d.r. position lat. 41° 14' n, lo. 68° 46' w. observed altitude star aldebaran east of meridian 50° 29' 40". he 29 ft. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable position of ship. 2. jan. 23rd, 1919. p.m. at ship. ct 3h 45m 40s. lat. by d.r. 38° 44' 19" n. lo. 121° 16' 14" e. observed altitude star rigel 28° 59' 20" west of meridian. ie + 4' 30". he 42 ft. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable position of ship. assign for night work one or two examples similar to the above. friday lecture examples: latitude by meridian altitude of a star, latitude by polaris, marc st. hilaire method by a star sight 1. at sea, dec. 5th, 1919. observed meridian altitude star aldebaran 69° 28' 40" s. no ie. he 26 ft. required latitude in. 2. at sea, jan. 20th, 1919. ct 21d 2h 16m 48s a.m. in longitude 56° 29' 46" w. observed altitude of star polaris 48° 44' 30" n. ie + 10' 20". he 37 ft. required latitude in. 3. at sea, june 4th, 1919. a.m. at ship. ct 10h 16m 32s. cc 5m 45s fast. lat. by d.r. 42° 44' n, longitude 53° 13' 44" e. observed altitude of star altair east of meridian, 52° 19' 30". ie--14' 00". he 56 ft. required line of position by marc st. hilaire method and most probable position of ship. etc. * * * * * assign for night work the following articles in bowditch: 336 through 341, disregarding the formulas. saturday lecture longitude by chronometer sight of the sun (time sight) you have now learned, first, how to get your latitude by a meridian altitude of the sun or a star and second, how to get your line of position and most probable fix, including both latitude and longitude, by the marc st. hilaire method, using for your calculations either the sun or a star. we are now going to take up a method of getting your longitude only. this method requires as much, if not more, calculation than the marc st. hilaire method. its results, on the other hand, are far less complete, for while the marc st. hilaire method will give you a fairly accurate idea of both your latitude and longitude, this method will, at best, only give you your longitude. moreover, you can use it for accurate results only when the sun bears almost due east or west of you, for that is the best time, as you have already learned, to get a line of position running due north and south, which is nothing more than a meridian of longitude. the only reason we explain this method at all is because it is in common practice among merchantmen and may, therefore, be of assistance to you, if you go on a merchant ship. remember, however, that it belongs to old navigation as distinguished from new navigation, exemplified by the marc st. hilaire method. it is undoubtedly being used less and less among progressive, up-to-date navigators, and will continue to be used less as time goes on. the fact remains, however, that at present many merchantmen practice it, and so it will do you no harm to become familiar with the method, too. this method is based on securing your longitude by a time sight or longitude by chronometer sight, meaning that at the time the sun bears as near due east or west as possible, you take a sight of it by sextant and at the same instant note the time by chronometer. with this information you proceed to work out your problem and secure your longitude according to the following formula. put in your note-book: to find your longitude by chronometer (or time) sight. 1. take sight by sextant only when the sun bears as near as possible due east or west. at exact time of taking sight, note chronometer time. 2. get g.m.t. from corrected chronometer time. apply equation of time to get the corresponding g.a.t. 3. correct observed altitude to get t.c.a. also have at hand lat. by d. r. and polar distance. (note: secure p. d. by subtracting dec. from 90°, if lat. and dec. are of same name. if lat. and dec. are of opposite name, secure p. d. by adding dec. to 90°.) 4. add together the t.c.a. the lat. by d.r. and the p.d. divide the sum by 2 and call the quotient half sum. from the half sum subtract the t.c.a. and call the answer the difference. 5. add together the secant of the latitude, the cosecant of the p.d., the cosine of the half sum and the sine of the difference (table 44). the result will be the log haversine of the s.h.a. or l.a.t. it must always be less than 10. if greater than 10, subtract 10 or 20 to bring it less than 10. 6. from table 45, take out the corresponding s.h.a. (l.a.t.), reading from the top of the page if p.m. at ship, or from bottom of page if a.m. at the ship. 7. find the difference between l.a.t. and g.a.t. this difference is lo. in time which turns into degrees, minutes and seconds by table 7. if g.a.t. is greater than l.a.t. longitude is west; if g.a.t. is less than l.a.t. longitude is east. example: august 26th, 1919, a.m. ct 26d 2h 29m 03s a.m. cc 16m 08s slow. (_) 44° 57' 00". ie--1' 30". he 32 ft. d.r. lat. 4° 55' 32" n. required longitude in at time of observation. 26d--2h--29m--03s a.m. 12 ----------------- ct 25d--14h--29m--03s --90° 00' 00" cc+ +16 --08 dec. 10 49 48 ----------------- ------------- g.m.t. 25d 14h 45m--11s p.d. 79° 10' 12" eq. t. -2 --05 ----------------- g.a.t. 25d 14h--43m--06s 1' 30" + 9 27 (_) 44° 57' 00" -------- corr. + 7 57 corr. + 7' 57" ---------- -(-) 45° 04' 57" lat. 4 55 32 n sec. .00160 p.d. 79 10 12 cosec. .00781 ----------- 2) 129° 10' 41" ----------- 1/2 s 64° 35' 20" cos. 9.63266 9 -(-) 45 04 57 ----------- diff. 19° 30' 23" sin. 9.5235o--14 ------------ 9.16557 + 5 + 5 ------------ log. hav. s.h.a. (l.a.t.) 9.16562 s.h.a. (l.a.t.) 25d--21h--00m--01s g.a.t. 25 --14 --43 --06 ---------------- lo. in t. 6h--16m--55s e lo. (table 7) 94° 13' 45" e i wish to caution you about confusing this method with the one bowditch uses, and still another which henderson uses in his book "elements of navigation." it is not exactly like either one. it requires one operation less than either, however, and it also requires the use of fewer parts of the various tables involved. for that reason it is given you. assign for work in class room and also for work at night examples similar to the following: 1. oct. 1st, 1919. a.m. (_) 17° 15' 00". g.m.t. 1d 11h 30m 00s a.m. d.r. lat. 40° 30' n. ie--2' 20". he 25 ft. required longitude in. 2. oct. 10th, 1919. p.m. (_) 25° 14' 30". ct 1h 15m 20s. cc 4m 39s slow. ie--3' 10". he 26 ft. d.r. lat. 41° 29' 00" s. required longitude in. 3. may 27, 1919. p.m. lat. by d.r. 40° 55' n. (_) 34° 4' 00". ie + 1' 10". he 10 ft. ct 8h 55m 42s. cc 2m 02s fast. required longitude in. 4. may 18th, 1919. a.m. (_) 29° 41' 15". wt 7h 20m 45s. c-w 2h 17m 06s. cc 4m 59s slow. latitude by d.r. 41° 33' n. ie--1' 30". he 23 ft. required longitude in. 5. august 24th, 1919. a.m. (_) 23° 32' 10". ie--2'00". he 16 ft. in latitude 39° 04' n. ct 24d 2h 47m 28s a.m. cc + 4m 28s. required longitude in. 6. june 26th, 1919. p.m. (_) 44° 08' 20". ie--2' 20". he 37 ft. ct 8h 18m 45s. cc 3m 20s fast. latitude by d.r. 6° 43' s. required longitude in. 7. july 29th, 1919. a.m. ct 29d 11h 14m 39s a.m. cc 2m 18s slow. (_) 28° 08' 30". ie + 0' 30". he 38 ft. latitude by d.r. 39° 48' n. required longitude in. 8. may 22nd, 1919. p.m. ct 9h 14m 38s. cc 5m 28s slow. (_) 21° 07' 40". in latitude 41° 26' n. ie + 3' 10". he 40 ft. required longitude in. week vi--navigation tuesday lecture longitude by chronometer sight of a star in getting your longitude by a time sight of a star, you proceed somewhat differently from the method used when observing the sun. what you wish to get first is g.s.t., i.e., the distance in time greenwich is from the first point of aries. if you can then get the distance the ship is from the first point of aries, the difference between the two will be the longitude in, marked east or west according as to which is greater. by looking at the diagram furnished you when we were talking of sidereal time, all this becomes perfectly clear. the full rule for finding longitude by a star is as follows, which put in your note-book: correct your ct to get your g.m.t. from the g.m.t. get the g.s.t. from the observed altitude of the star, obtain the star's h.a. at the ship in the same way l.a.t. is secured in case of the sun. to or from the r.a. of the star add, if west of your meridian, subtract if east of your meridian, the star's h.a. at the ship, just obtained. the result is the r.a. of the ship's meridian or l.s.t. find the difference between g.s.t. and l.s.t. and the result is the longitude, marked east or west according as to whether g.s.t. is less or greater than l.s.t. note: always take the star's h.a. from the top of the page of table 45. dec. 2, 1919. a.m. observed altitude star sirius 2o° 05' 20", west of meridian. ct 11h--45m--29s p.m. cc 1m--28s slow. ie--1' 20". he 21 ft. latitude by d. r. 38° 57' n. required longitude in. ct 11h--45m--29s cc + 1 --28 ------------------ g.m.t. 11h--46m--57s (.)ra 16 --37 --10.3 (+)cp 1 --56.1 ------------------ g.s.t. 28h--26m--03.4s ie -1' 20" --24 he -7 08 ------------------ ------ g.s.t. 4h--26m--03.4s corr. -8' 28" obs. alt. 20° 05' 20 corr. -8 28 --------- t.c.a. 19° 56' 52" lat. 38 57 sec. .10919 p.d. 106 36 24 cosec. .01849 + 1 2 ) 165° 30' 16" ------------ 1/2 s 82° 45' 08" cos. 9.10106 13 t.c.a. 19 56 52 ------------ diff. 62° 48' 16" sin. 9.94911 + 2 -------- 9.17785 11 -------- log. hav. star's h.a. at ship 9.17774 star's h.a. 3h--02m--40s star's r.a. 6 --41 --39 ------------- l.s.t. 9h--44m--19s g.s.t. 4 --27 --01 ------------- lo. in t. 5h--17m--18s e longitude in 79° 19' 30" e assign for night work or work in the class room examples similar to the following: 1. april 16, 1919, in latitude 11° 47' s. observed altitude of the star aldebaran, west of the meridian 23° 13' 20". ct 6h 58m 29s. cc 2m 27s fast. ie--2' 00". he 26 ft. required longitude in. 2. dec. 10th, 1919. observed altitude of star sirius 20° 05' 40" west of meridian. ct 11h 45m 29s. cc 1m 28s slow. ie--1' 20". he 21 ft. d.r. latitude 38° 57' n. required longitude in. note to instructor: if any time in the period is left or for night work assign examples to be worked by marc st. hilaire method, changing slightly the d.r. lat. and longitude just obtained by the time sight method. wednesday lecture examples on longitude by chronometer sight of a star 1. dec. 9th, 1919. in latitude 36° 48' n. observed altitude star capella, east of meridian 46° 18' 30". ie 2' 50" off arc. he 33 ft. ct 10d 3h 05m 05s a.m. cc 1m 18s slow. declination of star is 45" 55' n. required longitude in. 2. october 26th, 1919. in latitude 39° 54' s. observed altitude star rigel, west of meridian 42° 18' 40". ct 27d 10h 32m 55s a.m. cc 2m 18s fast. ie 4' 20" off arc. he 42 ft. required longitude in. 3. april 11th, 1919. p.m. at ship. in latitude 43° 16' 48" s. observed altitude star spica 33° 18' 20", east of meridian. ct 11h 08m 44s p.m. ie 3' 20" on arc. cc 4m 18s slow. he 39 ft. required longitude in. 4. september 15th, 1919. p.m. at ship. in latitude 49° 38'n. observed altitude star deneb, east of meridian, 36° 16' 50". ie 3' 40" off arc. he 40 ft. cc 6m 18s slow. ct 10h 00m 13s p.m. declination of star is 44° 59' 36" n. required longitude in. if any time is left, work same examples by marc st. hilaire method assuming a position near the one found by time sight. assign for night work any of the above examples, to be worked either as time sights or by the marc st. hilaire method, and also the following arts. in bowditch: 326-327-328-329. thursday lecture latitude by ex-meridian altitude of the sun you have learned that when you calculate your latitude from a meridian altitude of the sun, one of the necessary requisites is to have the sun exactly on your meridian. in fact, that is just another way of expressing meridian altitude, i.e., an altitude taken when the sun is on your meridian. now suppose that 10 or 15 minutes _before_ noon you fear that the sun will be clouded over _at_ noon so that a meridian altitude cannot be secured. there is a way to calculate your latitude, even though the altitude you secure is taken by sextant some minutes before or after noon. this is called latitude by an ex-meridian altitude. it must be kept in mind that this method can be used accurately only within 26 minutes of noon, either before or after, and only then when you know your longitude accurately. put in your note-book: 1. get your l.a.t. (s.h.a.). 2. subtract it from 24h 00m 00s, or vice versa, according as to whether l.a.t. is just before or just after local apparent noon. call the result "time interval from meridian passage." 3. with your d.r. latitude, declination and time interval from meridian passage, enter table 26 to get the proper amount of variation of altitude in one minute from meridian passage. 4. with the time interval from meridian passage and the variation, enter table 27 to get the total amount of variation of altitude. 5. add this total amount of variation to the true observed altitude taken before or after noon, and the result is the corrected altitude. 6. then proceed to get your latitude according to the rules already given you for latitude by meridian altitude. example: at sea, jan. 23rd, 1919. ct 4h 22m 14s. cc 1m 10s fast. longitude 66° 04' w. latitude by d.r. 19° 16' 00" n. (_) 50° 51' 00" s. he 49 ft. ie--1' 30". required latitude in. ct 4h 22m 14s cc 1 10 -------------------- g.m.t. 4h 21m 04s eq. t. 11 50 -------------------- g.a.t. 4h 09m 14s lo. in t 4 24 16 (w-) -------------------- l.a.t. 22d 23h 44m 58s 24h 00m 00s 23 44 58 ---------------- 15m 02s = time interval from meridian passage. dec. 19° 34' 48" s table 26 = 2.8 variation lat. 19° 16' 00" n for 1 min. 0 altitude. * * * * * time interval from meridian passage 15m 02s 2.8" variation for 1 minute (table 27) 2" = 7' 30" .8 = 3 00 ------------ 10' 30" + ie 1' 30" (_) 50° 51' 00" he + 8 42 + 7 12 -------- ---------- corr. + 7' 12" -(-)50° 58' 12" + 10 30 ---------- 51° 08' 42" 90 00 00 ---------- zd 38° 51' 18" n dec. 19 34 48 s ---------- lat. in 19° 16' 30" n assign for work in class room and night work, examples similar to the following: 1. at sea, july 11th, 1919. latitude by d.r. 50° 01' 00" n. longitude 40° 05' 16" w. observed ex-meridian altitude (_) 61° 45' 30" s. he 15 ft. ie--4' 10". ct (corrected) 2h 38m 00s. required latitude in. 2. at sea, june 6th, 1919. latitude by d. r. 49° 21' n, longitude 18° 18' w. observed ex-meridian altitude (_) 61° 30' 22" s. he 42 ft. ct 1h 06m 18s. cc--1m 14s. ie 0' 30" off the arc. required latitude in of ship. if any time is left, work similar examples by marc st. hilaire method. friday lecture examples: latitude by ex-meridian altitude of the sun 1. jan. 1st, 1919. wt 11h 53m 18s a.m. c-w 5h 56m 16s. latitude by d. r. 58° 05' s. longitude 89° 00' 48" w. (_) ex-meridian 55° 16' 30" n. ie 2' 00" off the arc. cc 1m 28s fast. he 36 ft. required latitude in. 2. march 11th, 1919. ct 11d 9h 14m 39s a.m. latitude by d. r. 39° 20' n, longitude 39° 48' 16" e. (_) ex-meridian 46° 17' 30" s. ie 2' 00" on the arc. cc 1m 16s slow. he 29 ft. required latitude in. 3. april 26th, 1919. ct 26d 4h 46m 38s a.m. latitude by d. r. 24° 25' s, longitude 107° 16' 56" e. (_) ex-meridian 52° 18' 50" n. ie--2' 40". cc 3m 56s slow. he 33 ft. required latitude in. 4. may 10, 1919. ct 2h 18m 46s a.m. latitude by d. r. 23° 54' s, longitude 143° 20' 18" e. (_) ex-meridian 48° 26' 20" n. ie 3' 20" on the arc. cc 4m 18s fast. he 41 ft. required latitude in. 5. june 21st, 1919. ct 4h. 56m 18s. latitude by d. r. 42° 01' n, longitude 75° 00' 18" w. (_) ex-meridian 71° 29' 40" s, ie--2' 30". cc 3m 04s slow. he 28 ft. required latitude in. 6. dec. 18th, 1919. wt 11h 50m 18s a.m. c-w 3h 14m 18s. latitude by d. r. 11° 55' s. longitude 48° 02' 29" w. (_) ex-meridian 78° 32' 30" s. ie 3' 30" on the arc. cc 2m 44s slow. he 35 ft. required latitude in. if there is any time left, give examples of latitude by meridian altitude, marc st. hilaire method by sun or star sight, etc. saturday lecture finding the watch time of local apparent noon noon at the ship is the pivotal point of the day's work at sea. it is then that the navigator must report to the commanding officer the latitude and longitude by dead reckoning, the latitude and longitude by observation, the course and distance made good, the deviation of the compass and the course and distance to destination. apparent noon, then, is a most important time to calculate accurately, and to do so when the ship is under way, is not so easy at it first appears. if the ship is stationary, and you know the longitude you are in, the problem is simple. then it is merely a question of starting with l.a.t. of 00h-00m-00s, adding or subtracting the longitude, according as to whether it is west or east, to get g.a.t.; applying the equation of time with sign reversed to get g.m.t.; applying the c. cor. with sign reversed to get the c.t.; and applying the c-w to get the wt. if, for instance, this wt happens to be 11h-42m-31s, when the watch reads that number of hours, minutes and seconds, the sun will be on the meridian and it will be apparent noon. when the ship is moving, the problem is more difficult. at first thought you might imagine that all you would have to do would be to take the difference between the l.a.t. of the morning sight and 24 hours, calculate the distance the ship would run in this time and from that determine the longitude you would be in at noon. then proceed as in the case of the ship being stationary. but such a calculation does not take into consideration the easting or westing of the ship itself. suppose that at the morning sight the l.a.t. is found to be 20h-10m-30s. if the ship does not move, it will be 3h-49m-30s to noon. but suppose the ship is moving eastward. then, in addition to the speed at which the sun is approaching the ship, there must be added the speed at which the ship is moving toward the sun--i.e. the change in longitude per hour which the ship is making, expressed in minutes and seconds of time. likewise, if the ship is moving westward, an allowance must be made for the westing of the ship. and this change of longitude in minutes and seconds of time must be subtracted from the speed of the sun's approach since the ship, in going west, is traveling away from the sun. there are various ways to calculate this allowance for the ship's speed, among the best of which is given in bowditch, art. 403, p. 179. another, and even easier way, is the following, which was explained to the writer by lieutenant commander r.p. strough, formerly head of the seamanship department of this school:-1. take the morning sight for longitude when the sun is on or as near as possible to the prime vertical. 2. subtract the l.a.t. of the morning sight from 24 hours. this will give the total time from the morning sight to noon if the ship were stationary. 3. from the course to noon and speed of the ship, figure the change in longitude per hour in terms of seconds of time. for instance, suppose a ship were steaming a course of 275° at the rate of 11 knots per hour in approximately 38° north latitude. the change of longitude per hour for this speed would be 14' of arc or 56s of time. 4. now the sun travels at the rate of 60 minutes or 3600 seconds per hour. to this hourly speed of the sun must be added or subtracted the hourly speed of the ship according as to whether the ship is going in an easterly or westerly direction. if, as mentioned above, the ship is steaming a course of 275° (w 1/2 n) and hence changing its longitude at the rate of 56s per hour, then the net rate of approach of the sun per hour would be 3600s 56s, or 3544s per hour. 5. divide the total time to noon from the l.a.t. of the morning sight (expressed in seconds of time) by the net rate of approach of the sun per hour. the result will be the corrected time to noon--i.e. the time at which the sun will be on the ship's meridian when the ship is changing its longitude to the westward at the rate of 56s per hour. 6. one more step is necessary. to the watch time of the morning sight, add the corrected time to noon. the result will be the watch time of local apparent noon. thirty minutes before will be the watch time of 11:30 a.m. and at 11:30 a.m. all deck clocks should be set to the local apparent time of the place the ship will be at local apparent noon. the following example illustrates the explanation just given and should be put in your note book:-example:--at sea, august 7th, 1919. about 7:30 a.m. by ship's time, position by observation just found to be latitude 30° 05' n, longitude 58° 08' w. wt of morning sight 6h-53m-13s a.m. c-w 4h-37m-21s. cc + 3m-38s. course 275°. speed 11 knots. tz n 90° e. what will be the watch time of local apparent noon? wt 6h -53m -13s a.m. + 12 ------------------ 18 -53 -13 c-w 4 -37 -21 ------------------ ct 23 -30 -34 cc + 3 -38 ------------------ g.m.t. 23 -34 -12 eq. t. - 5 -42 ------------------ g.a.t. 23 -28 -30 lo. in t. 3 -52 -32 ------------------ l.a.t. 19 -35 -58 24 -00 -00 ------------------total time to noon 4h 24m 02s course -275° change in lo. per hr.-14', 56s. 3600s -56 ---- 3544s, net rate of approach of sun 4h 60 --- 240m + 24 ---- 264m x 60 = 15840s 15840s + 02 ---- 15842s, total time to noon. 3544) 15842 (4.47 hours 14176 ---- 16660 14176 ---- 24840 24808 ---- corrected time to noon 4h -28m -12s wt of a.m. sight 6h -53m -13s ---------------- wt of l.a.n. 11h -21m -25s wt of 11:30 a.m. 10h -51m -25s when, therefore, the watch reads 10h--51m--25s, the deck clocks should be set to 11.30 a.m. and thirty minutes later it will be apparent noon at the ship. in all these calculations it is taken for granted that the speed of the ship and hence the change in longitude can be gauged accurately. a check on this can be made by comparing the longitude of the a.m. sight with the d.r. longitude of the same time. any appreciable difference between the two can be ascribed to current. now, if a proportionate amount of current is allowed for in reckoning the speed of the ship from the time of the a.m. sight to noon, then a proper correction can be made in the net rate of approach of the sun and the corrected time to noon will be very close to the exact time of noon. of course there will be an error in this calculation but it will be small and the result gained will be accurate enough for ordinary work. so much for finding the watch time of local apparent noon. careful navigators carry the process further and get the watch times of 15, 10 and 5 minutes before noon, so that by the use of constants for each one of these times, an accurate check on the noon latitude can be quickly and easily secured. we have not time in this course to explain how these constants are worked out but it is well worth knowing. the information regarding it is in bowditch art. 325, p. 128, and art. 405, p. 181. a word about the watch used by the navigator should be included here. this watch should be a good one and receive as much care, in its way, as the chronometer. it should be wound at the same time every day, carefully handled and, in other respects, treated like the fine time-piece that it is. while authorities differ on this point, the best practice seems to be not to change the navigator's watch to correspond with the apparent time of each day's noon position. the reason for this is two-fold. first, because constant moving of the hands will have an injurious effect on the works of the watch, and second, because, by not changing the watch, the c-w remains approximately the same, and thus a good check can be kept on both the watch and the chronometer as well as on the navigator's figures in reckoning the times of his various sights. assign for night reading the following arts. in bowditch: 323, 324, 333. also problems similar to the following: 1. at sea, july 28, 1919. position by observation just found to be latitude 44° 58' n, longitude 22° 06' w. wt of morning sight 6h-02m-20s. cc 3m 34s slow. course s 24° w. tz n 90° e. speed 9 knots. what will be the watch time of local apparent noon? 2. at sea, august 9th, 1919. position by observation just found to be latitude 38° 48' n, longitude 70° 46' w. wt of morning sight 8h-15m-01s a.m. c-w 3h-56m-32s. cc 3m-43s slow. course 272°. speed 12 knots. tz n 90° e. what will be the watch time of local apparent noon? week vii--navigation tuesday lecture compass error by an azimuth the easiest and most accurate way to find the error of your compass is, first, to find the bearing of the sun by your pelorus. if you set your pelorus, so that it will exactly coincide with the course you are steaming as shown by the compass in your chart house and then get a bearing of the sun by noting where the shadow from the pelorus vane cuts the circumference, this bearing will be the bearing of the sun by compass. at the same time, get your true bearing of the sun from the azimuth tables. the difference between the two will be the compass error, marked east or west according to the following rule which put in your note-book: 1. express your compass bearing and your true bearing by new compass reading. 2. if tz is to the right of cz, c.e. is east. formula: true--right--east. 3. if tz is to the left of cz, c.e. is west. formula: true--left--west. you must now remember that what you have is a compass error, consisting of both variation and deviation. to find the deviation, the variation and c.e. being given, is merely to apply the rules already given you under dead reckoning. for instance, if you had a c.e. of 10° w and a variation of 4° e, the deviation would be 14° w. put this example in your note-book: lat 20h 59m 57s lat. 4° 55' n dec. 10° 39' 30" n ship heading n 11° w. cb of (.) s 88° e. variation 10° w. what was the ship's true course and deviation of compass on direction ship was heading? [illustration] [illustration] cz 92° (new compass reading) tz 80° (new compass reading) -- ce 12° ce = 12° w variation 10° w ---- deviation 2° w true course being sailed n 23° w or 337°. let us now work out some of the following examples: 1. l.a.t. 22h--14m--18s lat. 30° 29' s dec. 17° 28' 44" n ship heading s 84° w compass bearing 44° variation 10° w. required t.c. and deviation on ship's loading. 2. august 29th, 1919. ct 2h 29m 18s a.m. longitude 120° 19' 46" e. latitude 44° 14' n. ship heading 98°. compass bearing s 42° e. variation 4° e. required t.c. and deviation on ship's heading. 3. june 17th, 1919. ct 4h 18m 44s a.m. longitude 60° 14' 59" e. latitude 38° 48' 00" s. ship heading sw x s. compass bearing 40° variation 12° w. required t.c. and deviation on ship's heading. etc. wednesday lecture correcting longitude by a factor we are now almost ready to begin the discussion of a day's work at sea. the only method we have not taken up is the one which is the subject of today's lecture. it is a method to correct your longitude to correspond with the difference between your latitude by dead reckoning and your latitude by observation. suppose you take a sight in the morning for longitude. the only latitude you can use is a d. r. latitude, advanced from your last known position. now suppose you run until noon and at that time take a sight for latitude. in comparing your d. r. latitude, advanced the true course and distance steamed to noon, and your latitude by observation taken at noon, suppose there is a difference of several minutes. the question is--how can we correct our longitude to correspond with this error discovered in the latitude? this is the method which put in your note-book: find the difference between the latitude by d. r. and the corresponding latitude by observation (in most cases secured from a sight at noon or from the star polaris). call this the error in latitude. with the d. r. latitude of the preceding sight and the azimuth or bearing of the preceding sight (always expressed as a bearing of less than 90°, old compass reading) enter table 47 for the correct longitude factor. multiply this factor by the error in latitude. the result is the correction to apply to the longitude. it is applied east or west according as to whether the latitude by observation is to the east or west of the d. r. latitude on the line of position (the line at right angles to the azimuth) of the preceding sight. example: position about 7:30 a.m. latitude by d. r. 25° 40' s, longitude (just secured by observation) 104° 05' 38" e. l.a.t. 7h 32m 30s a.m., declination 4° 59' n. thence ship ran to noon 109°, true course, 46 miles, when the latitude by meridian altitude of the sun was found to be 25° 52' s. required corrected longitude at noon. 7:30 a.m. d.r. lat. 25° 40' s lo. 104° 05' 38" e 109°--46 k. 15 s 48 18 e --------- ------------- noon--lat. by d.r. 25° 55' s lo. 104° 53' 56" e noon--lat. by obs. 25° 52' s --------- error in lat. 3' enter table 47 with azimuth (s 105° e) n 75° e as bearing and latitude 25° 40' or 26°, factor is found to be .3. 3' (error in latitude) times .3 (factor) = .9' or 54", correction in longitude. is it east or west? since azimuth is n 74° e, line of position is n 16° w. the d. r. latitude and latitude by observation are plotted on this line as follows: \ * lat. by obs. (25° 52' s) \ * lat. by d.r. (25° 55' s) \ latitude by observation is west of latitude by d.r. hence correction in longitude of 54" is applied west. position by observation, therefore, is as follows: lo. 104° 53' 56" e corr. in lo. 54 w ------------- lo. by obs. 104° 53' 02" e lat. by obs. 25° 52' s note to instructor: assign the following examples for work in the class room: 1. april 20th, 1919 a.m. at the ship. g.m.t. 20d 10h 28m 24s a.m. (_) 31° 55' 40". he 30 ft. no ie, cc. latitude by d. r. 26° 30' n. longitude 36° 55' west. ship then sailed a true course of s 36° e--40 knots until noon when observed altitude (_) 75° 40' 50" s. what was the position at noon corrected for longitude? (note: work the a.m. sight by both time sight and marc st. hilaire method.) 2. june 25th, 1919, a.m. latitude by d. r. 36° 20' s. longitude 96° 30' e. ct 1h 37m 16s a.m. cc 1m 30s fast. ie 2' 30" off arc. he 36 ft. (_) 7° 34' 20". log registered 114. true course to noon s 76° e. log registered 174. same ie, he, cc. observed altitude (_) 29° 44' 40" n. required position at noon by longitude factor. (note: work a.m. sight by marc st. hilaire method.) 3. at sea, may 30th, 1919. in d. r. latitude 38° 14' 29" n. longitude 15° 38' 49" w. observed altitude (_) 39° 05' 40" and bearing by compass 259°. ie 1' 00" on arc. he 27 ft. wt 3h 04m 49s. c-w 1h 39m 55s. cc 1m 52s fast. changed course to 94° p.s.c. and steamed 75 knots to about 8 o'clock. wt 8h 06m 18s. c-w 1h 39m 58s. at this time observed altitude of star arcturus 68° 30' 40", east of meridian. same ie, he, cc. changed course to 95° (true). steamed 60 knots until midnight when ran into heavy fog. slowed down to 7 knots per hour until 8 a.m. when observed altitude (_) 48° 45' 10". ct 9h 45m 18s a.m. same he, ie, cc. required fix at 8 a.m. by marc st. hilaire method, laid down on chart. note to instructor: spend rest of period in familiarizing pupils with laying down runs and intersecting lines of position on mercator plotting charts. thursday lecture the navigator's routine--a day's work at sea you are now familiar with the principal kinds of sights and the methods used in working them as explained in the foregoing pages. this information, however, relates only to each individual kind of sight. today i will explain briefly how those sights are made use of in your daily work at sea. such an explanation necessarily cannot include the navigator's work under all conditions and on all classes of ships. it merely gives a brief outline of and a few suggestions relating to navigating conditions on board a medium-sized transport, in time of war. i say "in time of war" because navigating then is different, to some extent, from the ordinary routine in time of peace. suppose you are ordered to a ship as navigator. what are your duties (a) before leaving port, (b) while at sea, and (c) on entering pilot waters? _(a) before leaving port_ ascertain the height of the eye of the bridge and any other place on the ship where you would be likely to take sights. have posted in the chart room and on the bridge the deviation of the compass on each 15° heading, so that it can be easily referred to. keep in each chronometer case or in a book nearby the error and daily rate of all chronometers on board. test each sextant for index error and record the result where you can refer to it easily. see that all charts of the harbor out of which you are to steam are corrected to date and are familiar to you, both as to sailing directions and buoys, and also as to lights and other aids to navigation. examine, in detail, the steering engine and steering apparatus. in case of its disarrangement your intimate knowledge of it may be most valuable. see that the patent log and sounding machine are in good order. see that the lead lines are well soaked in water, stretched, and properly marked. see that the lighting system in the chart room and the navigator's room is such that when any door is not tightly closed the lights in the room are extinguished. likewise, when the doors are closed, see that the lights will light and without repeated slamming of the doors. if possible, provide yourself with a flashlight set back in a metal tube so that the rays of the light are not diffused but can be focussed only on one spot at a time. see that your charts are arranged neatly in the drawers provided for them in the chart room. if, as is usual, the charts must be folded to get them in the drawers, mark them legibly on the outside and in the same place on each chart. put in the top drawers those charts you know you will use most frequently. this will save endless time and confusion. be sure you have a full complement of necessary instruments, including sextants, a stadimeter, binoculars, watches, stop watch, dividers, parallel rulers, pencils, work books; also all necessary books, such as smooth and deck log books, several volumes of bowditch, nautical almanacs, azimuth tables, pilot books, light and buoy lists, star identification tables, etc. you will be repaid a thousand times for whatever effort you expend to have your navigational equipment complete to the smallest detail. the shortage, for instance, of a pair of dividers would be an unending annoyance to you. this is also true of almost any other item mentioned above. prepare yourself, then, while you are in port and have plenty of opportunity to secure the equipment you desire. _(b) while at sea_ the least amount of work required of a navigator in time of peace would include (1) a morning sight for longitude, (2) a noon sight for latitude, (3) an afternoon sight for longitude, (4) an a.m. azimuth to check the deviation of the compass, and (5) the dead reckoning for the day's run from noon to noon. navigating in war time requires more work than this. if possible, the ship's position must be known accurately at any time of day or night for, in case of an emergency, the lives of all on board may be imperilled by inaccurate knowledge of your whereabouts. this means that more sights must be taken and more celestial bodies observed. while every navigator has his own idea as to the proper amount of work to do in a day, it would seem as though the following would cover the minimum amount of work necessary under present conditions: 1. an a.m. sight of the sun for longitude. 2. an azimuth of the sun for checking the deviation of the compass, taken right after the a.m. sun sight. 3. the watch time of local apparent noon. 4. ex-meridian and meridian altitudes of the sun for latitude. 5. a p.m. sight of the sun for longitude. 6. an evening twilight sight of three or four stars, preferably one in each quadrant. if these altitudes are taken correctly your position can be found to the dot. 7. a morning twilight sight for a fix or, at least, for latitude by polaris. 8. the dead reckoning from noon to noon. 9. distance run during the last 24 hours, from noon to noon 10. distance to destination. 11. set and drift of the current. _1. the a.m. sun sight_ in order to make this a valuable sight for longitude it should be taken when the sun is on or as near as possible to the prime vertical. as the sun, in north latitudes, passes the prime vertical before sunrise in the winter, the following remarks do not hold for that season. in winter the only rule to follow is to observe the sun as soon as it is 10° or more above the horizon. in summer find out from the azimuth tables the local apparent time when the sun will bear 90°. estimate, as closely as possible, the longitude you will be in the next morning when the local apparent time is as just found in the azimuth tables. this can be done by calculating the dead reckoning from the previous sight, or, what is even simpler, laying the distance off on the plotting chart. with this information find the w.t. corresponding to the l.a.t. mentioned above by some such formula as this: l.a.t. ± lo. = g.a.t. ± eq. t. (sign reversed) = g.m.t. ± c.c.(sign reversed) = c.t. (c-w) = w.t. this will not be absolutely accurate, for the longitude you are in is only approximate, but it will be close enough for good results. this resulting w.t. will be the time to take the a.m. sight. about fifteen minutes before that time compare your watch with your chronometer to get the c-w. also bring up the c.c. to date and make a note of it so that as much as possible of this detail work is accomplished before the sight is taken. next, take your sextant and test it for index error. this should be done regularly before each series of sights as it is impossible to tell what may have happened when the sextant is lying idle, except by the above test. now, with your sextant, watch and notebook, go to the place from which you have decided to take your observations and, at the proper watch time, start taking your altitudes. it is always advisable to take a number of sights, closely following each other, so that an error in one may be corrected somewhat by the others. take at least three sights in close succession. at the same time have the log read and enter it in your notebook. an equally good method in fair weather is to secure the distance run from the revolutions of the propeller. having taken your sights, go to the standard compass and get a bearing of the sun, at the same time noting in your book the w.t. of the bearing and the compass heading of the ship. you are now ready to go below into the chart room and work out your position. what method shall you use? that depends upon your preference. you have missed the point of the previous lectures, however, if you forget that the new navigation is based upon the marc st. hilaire method, and this is undoubtedly the method your captain will prefer you to use if he is an annapolis graduate. in this connection let me remind you again of the one fact, the oversight of which discourages so many beginners with the marc st. hilaire method. the most probable fix, which you get by one sight only, is not actually a fix at all. nor does any other method give you an accurate fix under like conditions. what the most probable fix is, and all it claims to be, is a point through which the required sumner line is to be drawn. if your d.r. position happens to be only one mile away from the most probable fix, that is no assurance that the most probable fix is near the actual position of the ship. you may be 25 miles away from it. but the important information gained is that, though you may be 25 miles away, you know on what line you are, and when this line is later crossed with another line of position that fix will be accurate. "two sights make a fix" is the whole matter in a nutshell. _2. the compass error_ having secured your morning sight, the next duty is to get the compass error. from your morning sight computation you know the watch time corresponding to the l.a.t. of the same sight. find the difference between the two and apply this difference to the watch time of the compass azimuth. that will give you the l.a.t. with which to enter the azimuth tables to get the true bearing corresponding to the compass bearing recently observed. apply the variation from the chart to get the magnetic bearing. the difference between this magnetic bearing and the compass bearing will be the required deviation, which you should compare with your deviation table. if there is a marked difference, and you are sure of your figures, use the new deviation in computing courses on this heading of the ship. _3. the watch time of local apparent noon_ you are now ready to figure the watch time of local apparent noon. unless you have a decided preference to the contrary, do this by the method explained in the saturday lecture, week vi. do not forget that in subtracting the l.a.t. of the morning sight from 24 hours to get the total time to noon, in case the ship were stationary, you do _not_ use the l.a.t. of the d.r. position, but the l.a.t. found by subtracting from g.a.t. the longitude of the most probable fix. this will give you the l.a.t., based on the longitude of the most probable fix, which will be slightly different from the l.a.t. based on the d.r. longitude. when you have secured the watch time of local apparent noon, subtract 30 minutes from it and notify the quartermaster that at that time by your watch the deck clocks are to be set to 11.30 a.m. if this change of time is very great (providing you are on an almost easterly or westerly course), it is wise to have the clocks set back in the night watches to allow for most of the time you figure you will lose. this will not work such a hardship or such an advantage to the officers and men who have the forenoon watch and will also be easier for the cooks. the clocks can then be slightly but accurately changed at 11.30 a.m., as mentioned above. _4. ex-meridian and meridian altitudes_ you know the principles and methods governing sights of this character. to know your latitude exactly at noon is usually required when you are steaming in convoy, for at that time your position signals are hoisted, and it is a matter of pride with the navigator not only to have his position exact but promptly. if your a.m. sight was taken when the sun was on or near the prime vertical, a change in latitude at noon will make no change in longitude. hence you can figure your longitude at noon just as soon as you have secured the corrected time from the a.m. sight to noon (which you have done right after working the a.m. sight). you will have your longitude, then, before you go on the bridge to observe for ex-meridian and meridian altitudes. sharply at noon you take your meridian altitude and tell a messenger to notify the captain that it is noon at the ship. the captain then orders eight bells struck, and you are ready to hand in your noon report, consisting of latitude and longitude by observation, latitude and longitude by dead reckoning, deviation of the compass on the ship's head at 8 a.m., distance made good since the preceding noon, distance to destination, set and drift of current (note:--when steaming in convoy this is unnecessary and usually omitted), and any other pertinent remarks. if the sun was not taken on or near the prime vertical at the time of the a.m. sight, take out your longitude factor for the coming noon position and calculate your d.r. latitude at noon. by correcting the longitude of the a.m. sight, run to noon, with the difference of longitude, readily found at noon with the longitude factor and the error in latitude, you will have the correct noon longitude to hand in, with only a moment's delay. it will be very hard, however, to get all this information in on time without the use of latitude constants. there is no room for a discussion of these constants here, but they are easy to work and you should learn how to use them. the information is in bowditch art. 325, p. 128, and art. 405, p. 181. _5. the p.m. sun sight_ this is another longitude sight and so any previous remarks about sights of this character are applicable here. if the day is fine you need not work out this sight until after evening twilight, for a fix then by stars will give both latitude and longitude, whereas your afternoon sun sight will only give you a longitude. this p.m. sun sight is a good check sight, to be used or not, according as to whether other earlier or later sights have been obtained. _6. the evening twilight sight_ the beauty of using stars is that by almost simultaneous altitudes of different ones you can ascertain your position, both as to latitude and longitude. in the north atlantic during the summer months vega, deneb or altair in the east, antares or deneb kaitos in the south, arcturus in the west, and polaris, mizar, or kochab in the north form an ideal combination which includes every quadrant of the compass. in the winter months, capella, castor or pollux in the east, sirius or any star in orion's belt in the south, deneb in the west, and polaris in the north are equally as good. _7. the morning twilight sight_ in clear weather this should be primarily a sight for latitude, since the a.m. sun sight for longitude will follow it. a latitude by polaris, and at the same time some star in one of the southern quadrants, as a check, will give admirable results. _8. the dead reckoning from noon to noon_ if there is no change of course in the late forenoon, as is usually the case, the dead reckoning for the day's run can be figured any time before noon so that it will be all ready to hand in to the captain with the other noon data. it is much easier to lay this off on the chart than to go to the trouble of calculating it by table 2, bowditch. on the other hand, such a calculation checks the chart work and should be worked out if you wish to make "assurance doubly sure." _9. distance run during the last 24 hours_ here, again, an answer by chart and an answer by figures is a good thing to secure. as you become accustomed to your work you will find the answer by chart infinitely easier and quicker to get. it is just as accurate, too, if you lay the distances off carefully with the dividers and parallel rulers. _10. distance to destination_ the same remarks as are made under (9) hold true here. _11. set and drift of current_ find the difference between your d.r. position and your position by observation at noon, i.e., the course and distance from your d.r. position to your position by observation. the course is the set of the current, the distance the amount of drift, all of which is easily calculated by table 2, bowditch. this difference between the two positions is seldom due to current. it is due to all errors of steering and the like. but these are all ascribed to current, for the sake of convenience. this calculation of the current is seldom used now, particularly when steaming in convoy. it is obvious that a schedule, such as outlined above, cannot be adhered to in all kinds of weather or under all conditions. it is merely an outline of what might properly be included in a 24 hour day, the weather conditions of which will lend themselves at any time to taking the observations mentioned. the weather of each succeeding day may force you to adopt a different routine. nevertheless, the closer you can keep to the above schedule the more exact will your various positions be. _(c) on entering pilot waters_ see that all charts of the locality you intend to enter are corrected to date. study these charts carefully, making notes, in detail, of the aids to navigation that you intend to pick up. in noting lights give their distinctive appearance, range of visibility, approximate time of sighting them, and any other information that you think you may need. if you have this information with you when on the bridge it will save much time and trouble that you would otherwise have to spend, at possibly a critical time, in the chart room. see that log lines, sounding machine, etc., are in order for instant use. remember that in entering pilot waters the safest landmarks are permanent ones. buoys, cans, etc., may drag from their positions or be lost altogether. this can also happen to lightships. become familiar with soundings, rise and fall of the tides, and the like, in the neighborhood in which you intend to anchor. if possible choose an anchorage that will enable you to get bearings from two or three fixed points on shore. as soon as possible after anchoring secure your bearings by pelorus and have them checked up by the quartermaster at regular intervals. this will determine how much, if any, dragging has taken place. lastly, always remember that no amount of advice can make up for your own carelessness. hold yourself ready for any emergency, keep cool, keep patient and keep pleasant. common sense is the best antidote in the world for strange situations. if you have that, and the knowledge you should have secured from these lectures, you cannot go far wrong. while the day's work which follows does not include every sight in regular sequence as given in the above discussion, it will give a fair idea of the navigator's work during a day's run. put it in your notebook. (note to instructor:--spend the rest of the period in explaining carefully each step of this example.) a day's work at sea departure taken from noon position jan. 25th, 1919, in latitude 30° 01' n, longitude 73° 47' 20" w. course p.s.c. ne 3/4 n. deviation 2° e. variation 4° w. log registered 20. ship continued on this course until about 6:30 p.m. when log registered 98 and observed altitude of star rigel, east of meridian, 39° 36' 20". wt 6h 33m 19s p.m. c-w 4h 55m 04s. cc 2m 16s slow. he 37 ft. ie 0' 20" off arc. changed course to 40° (true) and steamed until 3 a.m. when log registered 198. at this time ship ran into heavy ne gale. slowed down to 7 knots per hour until about 8:30 a.m. when observed (_) 18° 25' 10" and bearing by compass s 46° e. variation 7° w. wt 8h 31m 16s a.m. c-w 4h 55m 04s. ie + 0' 10". same he, cc. ship then steamed on true course of 39° at 7 knots per hour until noon when log registered 261 and observed meridian altitude (_) 37° 59' s. same ie (+ 0' 10"), he, cc. required:-1. position by d. r. at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation of compass at 8:30 a.m. 4. watch time of local apparent noon. (see next page) at sea, jan. 25, 1919. lat. in 30° 01' n lo. in 73° 47' 20" w steamed until 6:30 p.m. ========================================== course | dist. | d. lat. | dep. | d. lo. ----------------------------------------- n 35° e | 78 | 63.9 | 44.7 | 51.5 ========================================== lat. left 30° 01' n lo. left 73° 47' 20" w d. lat. 1 03 54 n d. lo. 51 30 e ----------- ----------- lat. in 31° 04' 54" n lo. in 72° 55' 50" w mid lat. 30° 30' n --------------------------------------------------------------- at 6:30 p.m. obs. * rigel. obs. alt. * 39° 36' 20" w.t. 6h 33m 19s log hav "t" 8.92502 e + 00 20 c.w. 4 55 04 log cos lat. 9.93269 ------------ c.c. 2 16 log cos. dec. 9.99544 39° 36' 40" ---------- ------- he 7 09 g.m.t. 11h 30m 39s log hav s 8.85315 nat hav s .07130 ------------ (.).r.a. 20 14 58 nat hav l--d .11349 t.c.a. * 39° 29' 31" (+).c.p. 1 53.3 ----- ------------ ---------- nat hav zd .18479 dec. of * 8° 17' 42"s g.s.t. 31h 47m 30.3s 50° 55' 00" zd lat. 31 04 54 n --w.lo. 4 51 43 -90 00 00 ------------ ---------- ----------- l.~d. 39° 22' 36" l.s.t. 2h 55m 47.3s 39° 05' 00" c.alt. ------------ *r.a. 5 10 41 39 29 31 t.alt ---------- ----------- "t" 2h 14m 54s 24' 31" alt. diff. toward. [illustration: tz n 135° e, s 45° e] ================================================ course | dist | d. lat. | dep. | d. lo. ----------------------------------------------- s45° e | 24.5 | 17.3 | 17.3 | 20 ================================================ lat. left 31° 04' 54" n lo. left 72° 55' 50" w 17 18 s 20 e ------------ ------------ lat. in 30° 47' 36" n lo. in 72° 35' 50" w changed course to 40° (true) =============================================== course | dist | d. lat. | dep. | d. lo. ---------------------------------------------- n40° e | 138.5 | 106.1 | 89 | 105 =============================================== lat. left 30° 47' 36" n lo. left 72° 35' 50" w 1 46 06 n 1 45 e ------------ ------------ lat. in 32° 33' 42" n lo. in 70° 50' 50" w 8.30 a.m. (_) 18° 25' 10" w.t 20h 31m 16s log hav "t" 9.28284 ie + 10 c-w 4 55 04 log cos lat. 9.92573 --------- c.c. 2 16 log cos dec. 9.97595 18° 25' 20" ---------- ------ he + 7 34 g.m.t. 1h 28m 36s log hav s 9.18452 nat hav s .15294 --------- eq.t 12 32 nat hav l~d .18841 -() 18° 32' 54" ---------- ----- g.a.t. 1h 16m 04s 71° 30' 00" zd nat hav zd .34135 dec. 18° 53' 24" s -w.lo. 4 43 51 -90 00 00 lat. 32° 33 42 n ---------- ---------- ----------- l.a.t.(t) 20h 32m 13s 18° 30' 00" c.alt. l~d 51° 27 06" 18 32 54 t.alt. ---------- 2' 54" toward [illustration: tz n 128° e s 52°e] =========================================== course | dist. | d.lat. | dep. | d.lo. ---------|-------|--------|--------|------ s 52° e | 3 | 1.8 | 2.4 | 3 =========================================== lat. left 32° 33' 42" n lo. 70° 50' 50" w 1 48 s 3 e ---------- ---------- lat. in 32° 31' 54" n lo. in 70° 47' 50" w bearing of sun by compass s 46° e true bearing of sun s 52° e ------ total error 6° w variation 7° w ---- deviation 1° e ========================================== course | dist. | d. lat | dep. | d. lo. ---------+-------+--------+------+------- n 39° e | 24.5 | 19 | 15.4 | 18.4 ========================================== lat. left 32° 31' 54" n lo. left 70° 47' 50" w 19 n 18 24 e ----------- ----------- lat. in 32° 50' 54" n lo. in 70° 29' 26" w _at noon._ l.a.t. 00h 00m 00s (_) 37° 59' s + w. lo. 4 41 58 ---------- ie + 10 g.a.t. 4h 41m 58s ----------- e.t. (sign reversed) + 12 34 37° 59' 10" ---------- he 8 55 g.m.t. 4h 54m 32s 17 --------- -(-)38° 08' 22" s 51° 51' 38" n (zd) 18 51 12 s (dec.) --------- 33° 00' 26" n. lat. in at noon. lo. factor = .93 lat. by obs. 33° 00' 26" n lat. diff. 9.5 lat. by d.r. 32° 50' 54" n ----- ----------- diff. lo. 8.83 lat. diff. 9' 32" since obs. lat. is east of d.r. lat. on line of pos. lo. diff. is applied east. / lo. by d.r. 70° 29' 26" w / lo. diff. 8 50 e obs. lat. * ----------- / lo. in at noon 70° 20' 36" w d.r. lat. * / / _by dead reckoning from noon to noon_ =========================================================== course | dist. | d. lat. | dep. | d. lo. ----------+---------+-----------+--------+---------------- n 35° e | 78 | 63.9 | 44.7 | 176' or 2° 56' n 40° e | 138.5 | 106.1 | 89. | n 39° e | 24.5 | 19. | 15.4 | | | ---- | --- | | | 189. | 149.1 | =========================================================== lat. left. 30° 01' n lo. left 73° 47' 20" w 3 09 n 2 56 e -------- ------------ lat. in 33° 10' n lo. in 70° 51' 20" w min. lat. 31° 35' the watch time of local apparent noon date--jan. 26, 1919 g.a.t. of a.m. sight 1h 16m 04s lo. in t. of a.m. sight 4 43 12 ---------- l.a.t. 20h 32m 52s total time to noon 3h 27m 08s course to noon -39° change in lo. per hr. -5.2', 21s 3600s + 21s = 3621s 3 x 60 = 180 27 ---- 207 60 ----- 12,420 08 ------- 3621 ) 12,428 (3.43 hrs 10,863 ----- 15,650 14,484 ----- 11,660 10,863 ----- 3.43 hrs = 3h 25m 48s w.t. of a.m. sight 8 31 16 a.m. --------- w.t. of l.a.n. 11h 57m 04s a.m. answer. _by d.r._ lat. 33° 10' n lo. 70° 51' 20" w _by observation_ lat. 33° 00' 26" n lo. 70° 20' 36" w _dev. at 8:30 a.m._ 1° e _w.t. of l.a.n._ 11h 57m 04s a.m. friday lecture day's work at sea, november 28th, 1918. departure taken at noon in latitude 20° 50' n, longitude 73° 15' 20" w. log at noon registered 34. sailed on course p.s.c. 73°, deviation 3° e, variation 1° w until twilight when log registered 152. changed course to e 3/4 n p.s.c. and observed altitude of star aldebaran, east of meridian 37° 10' 10" and bearing by compass n 89° e, variation 2° w. wt 8h 10m 16s. c-w 4h. 51m 30s. cc 4m 08s slow. ie 1' 10" off the arc. he 38 ft. ship steamed on this course, in heavy fog and rain, until 2:30 a.m. when log registered 200. ship changed course to e 1/2 n (true) and steamed at 8 knots per hour until 6:30 a.m. when weather cleared and observed altitude star polaris 21° 04' 20" n. wt 6h 35m 47s a.m. c-w 4h 51m 30s. same ie, he and cc. ship continued on same course and speed until about 9:30 a.m. when observed altitude of (_) 38° 45' 20". wt 9h 39m 10s a.m. c-w 4h 51m 30s. same ie, he and cc. ship then steamed a true course of 93° at a rate of 10 knots per hour until noon when log registered 294 and observed meridian altitude (_) 46° 49' 30". same ie, he and cc. required 1. d. r. position at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation at 8:10 p.m. 4. watch time of local apparent noon. saturday lecture day's work at sea, april 21st, 1918. departure taken from noon position in latitude 31° 50' n, longitude 76° 30' 31" w. log registered 128 at noon. course p.s.c. until about 4:30 p.m. was n 10° e. deviation 1° w. variation 3° w. at about 4:30 p.m. observed altitude of sun's lower limb 25° 13' 10" and bearing by compass n 87° w. wt 4h 26m 46s. c-w 5h 04m 52s. cc 1m 03s slow. ie 0' 10" off arc. he 29 ft. log registered at this time 188. course was then changed to ne x n (true). weather cloudy. at about twilight clouds broke away and observed altitude of star procyon west of meridian 40° 01' 00". ct 1h 37m 28s a.m. cc 1m 03s slow. ie 0' 10" off arc. he 29 ft. log registered 236. continued on same course until midnight, at which time log registered 290. at midnight ship ran into dense fog and slowed down to 8 knots until about 6:30 a.m., when fog blew away and observed altitude of star polaris 35° 29' 10" n. wt 6h 32m 14s a.m. c-w 4h 59m 02s. ie 0' 10" off arc. cc 1m 03s slow. he 29 ft. from 6:30 a.m. ship steamed a true course of n 32° e until noon at a rate of 15 knots per hour, at which time a meridian altitude of the (_) was observed 65° 37' 10" s. log registered 424. he 29 ft. ie 0' 10" off arc. cc 1m 03s slow. required 1. d. r. position at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation of compass at 4:30 p. m. sight. 4. watch time of local apparent noon. week viii--navigation monday lecture day's work at sea, nov. 12th, 1918. departure taken from noon position in latitude 39° 40' n, longitude 33° 20' 04" w. log registered at noon 1. course p.s.c. was 294° until about 3:30 p.m., deviation 1° w, variation 24° w, at which time observed altitude (_) 13° 55' 10" and bearing by pelorus s 79° w. wt 3h 22m 18s. c-w 2h 13m 20s. cc + 1m 10s. ie 1' 10" off arc. he 32 ft. log registered 46. course was then changed to 290° p.s.c. until about 6:30 p.m. when observed altitude star polaris 40° 15' 40" n. wt 6h 32m 18s. c-w 2h 13m 20s. same he, ie, cc. log registered 90. ship steamed on same course until 1:30 a.m. when log registered 196. at 1:30 a.m. sighted sub. on port bow. ordered full speed ahead and made 17 knots per hour until 8 a.m. when observed altitude (_) 8° 40' 00". wt 8h 01m 30s a.m. c-w 2h 13m 20s. same he, ie, cc. ship then steamed a true course of 272° at a rate of 15 knots per hour until noon, at which time observed meridian altitude (_) 32° 35' 40" s. same he, ie, cc. log registered 362. required 1. d. r. position at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation of compass at 3:30 p.m. 4. watch time of local apparent noon. tuesday lecture day's work at sea, dec. 10th, 1918. departure taken from latitude 19° 50' n, longitude 20° 01' 20" w. noon position. log registered 20. course p.s.c. n 16° e. deviation 2° e, variation 18° w. ship steamed on this course until 8 p.m. when changed course to n 18° e p.s.c. and observed altitude star polaris 22° 33' 14" n. wt 8h 09m 10s. c-w 1h 20m 05s. cc 2m 00s fast. ie none. he 39 ft. log registered 104. ship then steamed at 14 knots per hour until midnight. at midnight changed course to n 14° e p.s.c. and steamed at 12 knots per hour until 4 a.m. at 4 a.m. slowed down to 9 knots per hour and steamed at that rate until 8:30 a.m. when course p.s.c. was changed to n 17° e and observed altitude (_) 22° 40' 30". wt 8h 34m 16s a.m. c-w 1h 20m 05s. same ie, he, cc. sun bore by compass s 65° e, variation 18° w. continued on this course p.s.c. for two hours, speed 12 knots. thence steamed a true course of 4° at same speed to noon when observed meridian altitude (_) 42° 36' 50" s. same ie, he, cc. required 1. d. r. position at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation of compass at 8:30 a.m. 4. log reading at noon. wednesday lecture day's work at sea, july 19th, 1918. departure taken from latitude 40° 30' n, longitude 45° 00' 10" w. noon position. log registered at noon 68. steamed until 2:30 p.m. on a course p.s.c. 115°. deviation 1° w. variation 25° w. log registered 125. changed course to 118° p.s.c. (same variation and deviation) and steamed until about 5 p.m. at about 5 p.m. observed altitude (.) 22° 40' 20" and bearing by pelorus n 55° w. wt 5h 01m 16s. c-w 3h 00m 02s. ie 2' 20" on arc. cc 3m 32s slow. he 32 ft. log registered 168. course p.s.c. was then changed to 113° until about 8 p.m. when observed meridian altitude of star vega 88° 15' 10" s. wt 8h 02m 26s. c-w 3h 00m 02s. same he, ie, cc. log registered 210. continued on same course p.s.c. until about 2 a.m. when observed altitude of star vega 47° 19' 20" west of meridian. wt 2h 04m 24s a.m. c-w 3h 00m 02s. same ie, he, cc. log registered 299. tz of star n 86° w. continued on same course until 4 a.m. when log registered 329. at 4 a.m. heavy fog and rain forced ship to slow down to 5 knots per hour until about 9 a.m. when weather cleared and observed altitude (_) 51° 52' 40". wt 9h 03m 18s a.m. c-w 3h 00m 02s. same he, ie, cc. thence ship steamed a true course of 88° at a rate of 13 knots per hour to noon, when log registered 394 and observed meridian altitude (_) 69° 52' 20" s. same ie, he, cc. required 1. d. r. position at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation of compass at 5 p.m. 4. watch time of local apparent noon. thursday lecture day's work at sea, nov. 25th, 1918. departure taken at noon from latitude 25° 05' n, longitude 37° 10' 40" w. log registered at noon 32. course p.s.c. was 119°, deviation 2° e, variation 19° w until twilight when log registered 110 and observed altitude star polaris 25° 30' 40" n. ie 1' 10" off arc. he 28 ft. wt 5h 40m 18s. c-w 2h 28m 11s. cc 4m 15s slow. changed course to se x e 3/4 e, same variation and deviation, and steamed on this course until about 8:30 p.m. when observed altitude of star markab, west of meridian, 59° 48' 10". log registered 157. wt 8h 34m 48s. c-w 2h 28m 11s. same he, ie, cc. steamed on same course until midnight when log registered 210. changed course to 110° p.s.c. (same variation and deviation), and steamed at 12 knots speed until about 8 a.m. when observed altitude (_) 23° 05' 10" and bearing by compass s 33° e. variation 19° w. wt 8h 04m 10s, a.m. c-w 2h 28m 11s. same he, ie, cc. continued on same course p.s.c. at a speed of 15 knots per hour until noon when observed meridian altitude (_) 44" 30' 50" s. same ie, he, cc. log registered 366. required 1. d. r. position at noon. 2. position by observation at noon (corrected for longitude by a factor). 3. deviation of compass at 8:04 a.m. 4. watch time of local apparent noon. additional lecture compass adjustment the aim of this lecture is to give you a very few facts about magnetism in general and compass adjustment in particular. the reason for including the lecture in this book is because of repeated requests on the part of graduates who have been consulted about the adjustment of the compass on their ships and who have realized that their advice might have been more helpful if they had learned more about the matter while at this school. the earth is a huge magnet. it is the effect of the magnetism in the earth upon the compass needle which causes the compass error and makes it necessary to correct it. how can it be corrected? to know that we must first know the fundamental law of magnetism, namely, that opposite poles of two magnets attract each other and similar poles repel each other. from which it follows that if we decide to color red, for instance, that end of a magnetic needle which points to north, the magnetism of that part of the earth must be considered blue, i.e., of opposite magnetism to the north-seeking end of the red magnetic needle. now, there are various kinds of magnetism which affect a ship's compass. one is from the earth, another from the iron in the ship, etc. to discuss them and, the theoretical cause of them in detail is beyond the scope of this lecture. to correct them, four sets of magnets are necessary, two of which are usually found in the binnacle of the compass itself. one is a fore and aft magnet or set of magnets, the other an athwartship magnet or set of magnets. the third set consists of the two globes of cast iron placed on either side of the compass bowl (called quadrantal correctors). the fourth magnet, or set of magnets, is to correct the compass in case of severe heeling by the ship. if you are ordered to adjust the compass the first thing to do is to choose a fine day with smooth water. take your ship to a certain spot, the exact location of which you have found from the chart, and where you are certain you will have plenty of sea-way in which to swing. set your watch to local apparent time (which you have calculated before coming out). take from the azimuth tables the sun's true bearing for every four minutes of the time during which you will be occupied adjusting, and convert it into the magnetic bearing by applying the variation at the place selected (secured from the chart). write down in a small book these times and corresponding magnetic bearings. now go to your compass and see that its lubber line is exactly fore and aft and in the keel line of the ship. have another officer who is thoroughly familiar with the pelorus stand by it as the ship is swung. all being ready, secure the lubber's point of the pelorus at north and clamp the sight vane to the sun's magnetic bearing at the time you have figured to take the first heading. starboard or port your helm until at the time calculated the reflection of the sight vane on the pelorus dial cuts on the proper magnetic bearing. the vessel's head will then be pointing to magnetic north. if, now, the compass were correct it would agree with the pelorus in showing the ship's head to be north. if it does not do so, there is deviation in the compass and its amount is the amount of deviation on that particular course. suppose the deviation were to starboard, i.e., easterly, and were due to magnetism in the ship's starboard side. then, if the magnetism in the north end of the needle be considered red, the magnetism in the starboard side of the vessel, in order to attract the red end of the needle, would be considered blue and the ship's magnetism, with the compass needle included, would look like this: [illustration] to counteract this blue attractive force on the starboard side, screw up the athwartship magnet in the binnacle toward the compass dial. its magnetism, if it were laid on the deck, would look like this: [illustration] in other words, as this magnet is moved nearer the compass needle, by the law of magnetism just given, the red end of the magnet repels the red end of the compass needle from the starboard side and the blue end of the magnet attracts the red end of the compass needle toward the port side. when the compass needle points to north, as shown by the correct pelorus bearing, the deviation on this heading (i.e., north) is corrected. now turn the lubber line of the pelorus to east. steady the ship on this heading until the shadow from the pelorus vane at the proper l.a.t. cuts the circumference of the pelorus dial at the proper magnetic bearing. the ship's compass should then show the ship's head pointing to east. suppose that it does not (as will usually be the case) but points to the right of east. then the ship's magnetism and compass would look like this: [illustration] to bring the compass needle back to north it would be necessary to move up nearer the compass dial the fore-and-aft magnet (shown below), whose magnetism would act on the compass needle on this heading of the ship exactly as the athwartship magnet acted on the compass needle when the ship was headed north: [illustration] now the ship's compass has been corrected for the north and east headings respectively. the next correction is for the heading half way between, i.e., north-east. if there is any deviation on this heading, adjust the cast iron cylinders (called quadrantal correctors), which are on each side of the compass bowl, by moving them toward or away from the compass until the ship's head by compass is north-east at the proper time and bearing by pelorus. the ship's compass has now been corrected for one whole quadrant, namely, from north to east, and this will suffice for all four quadrants since the relationships of the magnets themselves and the magnetism of the compass needle is the same for any of the other three quadrants as for the first. compass adjustment, however, can never be absolutely accurate. for that reason, it is wise to steam the ship completely around, steadying on every fifteen degrees by pelorus to determine and keep a record of remaining errors. there is one more correction to make, i.e., for the heeling error. this correction is necessary in case the ship is yawing in a sea-way so much that the relationship of the ship's magnetism to the compass needle is decidedly different from what it is when the ship is on a comparatively even keel. it is compensated by a vertical magnet directly underneath (or over) the binnacle, details in regard to which can be secured from bowditch art. 125, p. 53. it must be borne in mind that compass adjustment is not an exact science, that an adjustment for one latitude is not correct for another, that anyone of a hundred different causes can affect the magnetism of the ship or of the compass needle, which in turn directly affects the deviation. in this connection, it would be well to read bowditch art. 129, p. 55. you should also read arts. 119-130 in which are given, more fully and in more scientific language, the contents of this lecture. the hero of the humber; or, the history of the late mr. john ellerthorpe (foreman of the humber dock gates, hull), being a record of remarkable incidents in his career as a sailor; his conversion and christian usefulness; his unequalled skill as a swimmer, and his exploits on the water, with a minute account of his deeds of daring in saving, with his own hands, on separate and distinct occasions, upwards of forty persons from death by drowning: together with an account of his last affliction, death, etc. by the rev. henry woodcock, author of 'popery unmasked,' 'wonders of grace,' etc. 'my tale is simple and of humble birth, a tribute of respect to real worth.' second edition. london: _s. w. partridge, 9, paternoster row; wesleyan book room, 66, paternoster row; primitive methodist book room, 6, sutton street, commercial road, e.; and of all booksellers._ 1880. alford: j. horner, printer, market-place. to the seamen of great britain, to whose skill, courage, and endurance, england owes much of her greatness, this volume-containing a record of the character and deeds of one, who, for upwards of thirty years, braved the hardships and perils of a sailor's life, and whose gallantry and humanity won for him the title of 'the hero of the humber,' is most respectfully dedicated, with the earnest prayer that they may embrace that benign religion which not only rescued the 'hero' from the evils in which he had so long indulged, and enriched him with the graces of the christian character, but also gave a brighter glow and greater energy to that courage, gallantry, and humanity by which he had been long distinguished. the author. preface to the second edition. mr. gladstone, in a recent lecture thus defines a hero: quoting latham's definition of a hero,--'a man eminent for bravery,' he said he was not satisfied with that, because bravery might be mere animal bravery. carlyle had described napoleon i. as a great hero. 'now he (mr. gladstone) was not prepared to admit that napoleon was a hero. he was certainly one of the most extraordinary men ever born. there was more power concentrated in that brain than in any brain probably born for centuries. that he was a great man in the sense of being a man of transcendent power, there was no doubt; but his life was tainted with selfishness from beginning to end, and he was not ready to admit that a man whose life was fundamentally tainted with selfishness was a hero. a greater hero than napoleon was the captain of a ship which was run down in the channel three or four years ago, who, when the ship was quivering, and the water was gurgling round her, and the boats had been lowered to save such persons as could be saved, stood by the bulwark with a pistol in his hand and threatened to shoot dead the first man who endeavoured to get into the boat until every woman and child was provided for. his true idea of a hero was this:--a hero was a man who must have ends beyond himself, in casting himself as it were out of himself, and must pursue these ends by means which were honourable, the lawful means, otherwise he might degenerate into a wild enthusiast. he must do this without distortion or disturbance of his nature as a man, because there were cases of men who were heroes in great part, but who were so excessively given to certain ideas and objects of their own, that they lost all the proportion of their nature. there were other heroes, who, by giving undue prominence to one idea, lost the just proportion of things, and became simply men of one idea. a man to be a hero must pursue ends beyond himself by legitimate means. he must pursue them as a man, not as a dreamer. not to give to some one idea disproportionate weight which it did not deserve, and forget everything else which belonged to the perfection and excellence of human nature. if he did all this he was a hero, even if he had not very great powers; and if he had great powers, then he was a consummate hero.' now, if we cannot claim for the late mr. ellerthorpe 'great powers' of intellect, we are quite sure that all who read the following pages will agree that the title bestowed upon him by his grateful and admiring townsman,--'the hero of the humber,' was well and richly deserved. he was a 'hero,' though he lived in a humble cottage. he was a man of heroic sacrifices; his services were of the noblest kind; he sought the highest welfare of his fellow-creatures with an energy never surpassed; his generous and impulsive nature found its highest happiness in promoting the welfare of others. he is held as a benefactor in the fond recollection of thousands of his fellow countrymen, and he received rewards far more valuable and satisfying than those which his queen and government bestowed upon him: more lasting than the gorgeous pageantries and emblazoned escutcheon that reward the hero of a hundred battles. the warrior's deeds may win an earthly fame, but deeds by mercy wrought, are heaven's own register within: not one shall be forgot. the scene of most of his gallant exploits in rescuing human lives was 'the river humber;' hence the title given him by a large gathering of his fellow townsmen. the noble river humber, upon which the town of kingston-upon-hull is seated, may be considered the thames of the midland and northern counties of england. it divides the east riding of yorkshire from lincolnshire, during the whole of its course, and is formed by the junction of the ouse and the trent. at bromfleet, it receives the little river foulness, and rolling its vast collection of waters eastward, in a stream enlarged to between two and three miles in breadth, washes the town of hull, where it receives the river of the same name. opposite to hedon and paul, which are a few miles below hull, the humber widens into a vast estuary, six or seven miles in breadth, and then directs it's course past great grimsby to the german ocean, which it enters at spurn head. no other river system collects waters from so many important towns as this famous stream. 'the humber,' says a recent writer, 'resembling the trunk of a vast tree spreading its branches in every direction, commands, by the numerous rivers which it receives, the navigation and trade of a very extensive and commercial part of england.' the humber, between its banks, occupies an area of about one hundred and twenty-five square miles. the rivers ouse and trent which, united, form the humber, receive the waters of the aire, calder, don, old don, derwent, idle, sheaf, soar, nidd, yore, wharfe, &c., &c. from the waters of this far-famed river--the humber--mr. ellerthorpe rescued thirty-one human beings from drowning. for the rapid sale of 3,500 copies of the 'life of the hero,' the author thanks a generous public. a series of articles extracted from the first edition appeared in '_home words_.' an illustrated article also appears in cassell's '_heroes of britain in peace and war_,' in which the writer speaks of the present biography as '_that very interesting book in which the history of ellerthorpe's life is told_. (p. 1. 2. part xi.) the author trusts that the present edition, containing an account of '_the hero's_' last affliction, death, funeral, etc., will render the work additionally interesting. the writer. _53, leonard street, hull, aug. 4th, 1880._ contents. chap. page i. his wicked and reckless career 1 ii. his conversion and inner experience 6 iii. his christian labours 14 iv. his staunch teetotalism 22 v. his bold adventures on the water 31 vi. his method of rescuing the drowning 44 vii. his gallant and humane conduct in rescuing the drowning 51 viii. the honoured hero 95 ix. his general character, death, etc. 116 x. the hero's funeral 122 the hero of the humber. chapter i. his wicked and reckless career as a sailor. the fine old town of hull has many institutions of which it is deservedly proud. there is the charter house, a monument of practical piety of the days of old. there is the literary and philosophical institute, with its large and valuable library, and its fine museum, each of which is most handsomely housed. there is the new town hall, the work of one of the town's most gifted sons. there is the tall column erected in honour of wilberforce, in the days when the representatives of the law were expected to obey the laws, and when the cultivation of a philanthropic feeling towards the negro had not gone out of fashion. there is the trinity house, with its magnificent endowments, which have for more than five centuries blessed the mariners of the port, and which is now represented by alms-houses, so numerous, so large, so externally beautiful, and so trimly kept as to be both morally and architecturally among the noblest ornaments of the town. there is the port of hull society, with its chapel, its reading-rooms, its orphanage, its seaman's mission, all most generously supported. there is that leaven of ancient pride which also may be classed among the institutions of the place, and which operates in giving to a population by no means wealthy a habit of respectability, and a look for the most part well-to-do. but among none of these will be found the institution to which we are about to refer. the institution that we are to-day concerned to honour is compact, is self-supporting, is eminently philanthropic, has done more good with very limited means than any other, and is so much an object of legitimate pride, that we have pleasure in making this unique institution more generally known. a life-saving institution that has in the course of a few brief years rescued about fifty people from drowning, and that has done so without expectation of reward, deserves to be named, and the name of this institution is simply that of a comparatively poor man--john ellerthorpe, dock gatekeeper, at the entrance of the humber dock.' such was the strain in which the _sheffield daily telegraph_, in a leader (march 17th, 1868), spoke of the character and doings of him whom a grateful and admiring town entitled 'the hero of the humber.' [sidenote: his nativity.] he was born at rawcliffe, a small village near snaith, yorkshire, in the year 1806. his ancestors, as far as we can trace them, were all connected with the sea-faring life. his father, john ellerthorpe, owned a 'keel' which sailed between rawcliffe and the large towns in the west riding of yorkshire, and john often accompanied him during his voyages. his mother was a woman of great practical sagacity and unquestionable honesty and piety, and from her young john extended many of the high and noble qualities which distinguished his career. much of his childhood, however, was passed at the 'anchor' public house, rawcliffe, kept by his paternal grandmother, where he early became an adept swearer and a lover of the pot, and for upwards of forty years--to use his own language--he was 'a drunken blackard.' when john was ten years of age his father removed to hessle. about this time john heard that flaming evangelist, the rev. william clowes, preach near the 'old pump' at hessle, and he retired from the service with good resolutions in his breast, and sought a place of prayer. soon after he heard the famous john oxtoby preach, and he says, 'i was truly converted under his sermon, and for sometime i enjoyed a clear sense of forgiveness.' his mother's heart rejoiced at the change; but from his father, who was an habitual drunkard, he met with much opposition and persecution, and being but a boy, and possessing a very impressionable nature, john soon joined his former corrupt associates and cast off, for upwards of thirty years, even the form of prayer. [sidenote: his love of the water.] ellerthorpe was born with a passion for salt water. he was reared on the banks of a well navigated river, the humber, and, in his boyhood, he liked not only to be on the water, but _in_ it. he also accompanied his father on his voyages, and when left at home he spent most of his time in the company of seamen, and these awakened within him the tastes and ambition of a sailor. he went to sea when fourteen years of age, and for three years sailed in the brig 'jubilee,' then trading between hull and london. the next four years were spent under captain knill, on board of the 'westmoreland,' trading between hull and quebec, america. afterwards he spent several years in the baltic trade. when the steam packet, 'magna charter,' began to run between hull and new holland, john became a sailor on board and afterwards captain of the vessel. he next became captain of a steamer that ran between barton and hessle. he then sailed in a vessel between hull and america. in 1845, he entered the service of the hull dock company, in which situation he remained up to the time of his death. [sidenote: his youthful career.] fifty years ago our sailors, generally speaking, were a grossly wicked class of men. a kind of special license to indulge in all kinds of sin was given to the rough and hardy men whose occupation was on the mighty deep. landsmen, while comfortably seated round a winter's fire, listening to the storm and tempest raging without, were not only struck with amazement at the courage and endurance of sailors in exposing themselves to the elements, but, influenced by their imagination, magnified the energy and bravery that overcame them. peasants gazed with wild astonishment on the village lad returned, after a few years absence, a veritable 'jack tar.' the credulity of these delighted listeners tempted jack to 'spin his yarns,' and tell his tales of nautical adventures, real or imaginary. hence, he was everywhere greeted with a genial and profuse hospitality. the best seat in the house, the choicest drinks in the cellar, were for jack. our ships of commerce, like so many shuttles, were rapidly weaving together the nations of the earth in friendly amity. besides, a romantic sentiment and feeling, generated to a great extent by the victories which our invincible navy had won during the battles of the nile, and perpetuated by nelson's sublime battle cry, 'england expects every man to do his duty,' helped to swell the tide of sympathy in favour of the sailor. under these circumstances jack became society's indulged and favoured guest; and yet he remained outside of it. 'peculiarities incident to his profession, and which ought to have been corrected by education and religion, became essential features of character in the public mind. a sailor became an idea--a valuable menial in the service of the commonwealth, but as strange and as eccentric in his habits as the walk of some amphibious animal, or web-footed aquatic on land. to purchase a score of watches, and to fry them in a pan with beer, to charter half a dozen coaches, and invite foot passengers inside, while he 'kept on deck,' or in any way to scatter his hard earnings of a twelvemonth in as many hours, was considered frolicsome thoughtlessness, which was more than compensated by the throwing away of a purse of gold to some poor woman in distress.' land-sharks and crimps beset the young sailor in every sea port; low music halls and dingy taverns and beer shops presented their attractions; and there the 'jolly tars' used to swallow their poisonous compounds, and roar out ribald songs, and dance their clumsy fandangoes with the vilest outcasts of society. 'it is a necessary evil,' said some; 'it is the very nature of sailors, poor fellows.' while the thoughtless multitude were immensely tickled with jack's mad antics and drolleries. generous to a fault to all who were in need, jack's motto was:- while there's a shot in the locker, a messmate to bless, it shall always be shared with a friend in distress. [sidenote: jack's frolics.] amid such scenes as these our friend spent a great portion of his youth and early manhood. the loud ribald laugh, the vile jest and song, the midnight uproar, the drunken row, the flaunting dress and impudent gestures of the wretched women who frequent our places of ungodly resort--amid such scenes as these, did he waste his precious time and squander away much of his hard earned money. but though a wild and reckless sailor, his warm and generous heart was ever impelling him to noble and generous deeds. if he sometimes became the dupe of the designing, and indulged in the wild revelry of passion, at other times he gave way to an outburst of generosity bordering on prodigality, relieving the necessities of the poor, or true to the instincts of a british tar standing up to redress the wrongs of the oppressed. chapter ii. his conversion and inner experience. when far away on the sea, and while mingling in all the dissipated scenes of a sailor's life, john would sometimes think of those youthful days--the only sunny spot in his life's journey--when he 'walked in the fear of the lord and in the comfort of the holy ghost.' serious thoughts would rise in his mind, and those seeds of truth, sown in his heart while listening to clowes and oxtoby, and which for years seemed dead, would be quickened into life. he had often wished to hear mr. clowes once more, and on seeing a placard announcing that he would preach at the opening of the nile street chapel, hull (1846), he hastened home, and, sailor-like, quaintly observed to his wife, 'why that old clowes is living and is going to preach. let's go and hear him.' on the following sunday he went to the chapel, but it was so many years since he had been to god's house that he now felt ashamed to enter, and for some minutes he wandered to and fro in front of the chapel. at length he ventured to go in, and sat down in a small pew just within the door. his mind was deeply affected, and ere the next sabbath he had taken two sittings in the chapel. about this time, the rev. charles jones, of blessed memory, began his career as a missionary in hull. he laboured during six years, with great success, in the streets, and yards, and alleys of the town; and scores now in heaven and hundreds on their way thither, will, through all eternity, have to bless god that primitive methodism ever sent him to labour in hull. the rev. g. lamb prepared the people to receive him by styling him 'a bundle of love.' john went to hear him, and charmed by his preaching and allured by the grace of god, his religious feelings were deepened. soon after this, and through the labours of mr. lamb, he obtained peace with god, and i have heard him say at our lovefeasts, 'jones knocked me down, but it was mr. lamb that picked me up.' [sidenote: his serious impressions.] [sidenote: his conversion.] being invited by two christian friends to attend a class meeting on the following sabbath morning, he went. as he sat in that old room in west street chapel, a thousand gloomy thoughts and fearful apprehensions crossed his mind, and casting many a glance towards the door, he '_felt as though he must dart out_.' but when mr. john sissons, the leader of the class, said, with his usual kind smile and sympathizing look:--'i'm glad to see you,' and then proceeded to give him suitable council and encouragement, john's heart melted and his eyes filled with tears; and, on being invited to repeat his visit on the following sabbath, he at once consented. one of the friends who had accompanied him to the class, said, 'now god has sown the seed of grace in your heart and the enemy will try to sow tares, but if you resist the devil he will flee from you,' and scarcely had john left the room _ere the battle began_. 'oh, what a fool' he thought, 'i was to promise to go again,' and when he got home he said to his wife, 'i've been to class, and what is worse, i have promised to go again, and i dar'nt run off.' mrs. ellerthorpe, who had begun to watch with some interest her husband's struggles, wisely replied, 'go, for you cannot go to a better place, i intend to go to mr. jones' class.' all the next week john was in great perplexity, thinking, 'what can i say if i go? if i tell them the same tale i told them last week they will say i've got it off by memory.' on the following sabbath morning he was in the street half resolved not to go to class, when he thought, 'did'nt my friend say the devil would tempt me and that i was to resist him? perhaps it is the devil that is filling me with these distressing feelings, but i'll resist him,' and, suiting his action to his words, in a moment, john was seen darting along the street at his utmost speed; nor did he pause till, panting and almost breathless, he found himself seated in the vestry of the primitive methodist chapel, west street. he regarded that meeting as the turning point in his spiritual history, and in the review it possessed to him an undying charm. there a full, free, and present salvation was pressed on the people. the short way to the cross was pointed out. the blessedness of the man whose transgression is forgiven was realized. the direct and comforting witness of the holy spirit to the believer's adoption was proclaimed. and there believers were exhorted to grow richer in holiness and riper in knowledge every day. and while john sat and listened to god's people, he felt a divine power coming down from on high, which he could not comprehend, but which, however, he joyously experienced. he joined the class that morning and continued a member five years, when he became connected with our new chapel in thornton street. around these services in the old vestry at west street, cluster the grateful recollections of many now living and of numbers who have crossed the flood. how often has that room resounded with the cries of penitent sinners and the songs of rejoicing believers? [sidenote: visits his mother.] soon after our friend had united himself with the people of god he paid a visit to his mother, who was in a dying state. it was on a beautiful sabbath morning, in the month of june, and while walking along the road, between hull and hessle, and reflecting on the change he had experienced, he was filled 'unutterably full of glory and of god.' that morning, with its glorious visitation of grace, he never forgot. his soul had new feelings; his heart throbbed with a new, a strange, a divine joy. peace reigned within and all around was lovely. the sun seemed to shine more brightly, and the birds sang a sweeter song. the flowers wore a more beautiful aspect, and the very grass seemed clothed in a more vivid green. it was like a little heaven below. 'as i walked along,' he says, 'i shouted, glory, glory, glory, and i am sure if a number of sinners had heard me they would have thought me mad.' but was he mad? did not the pentecostal converts 'eat their meat with gladness and singleness of heart, praising god?' did not the converts in samaria 'make great joy in the city?' did not the ethiopian eunuch, having obtained salvation, '_go on his way rejoicing_?' and charles wesley, four days after his conversion, thus expressed the joy he felt- i rode on the sky so happy was i, nor envied elijah his seat; my soul mounted higher in a chariot of fire as the moon was under my feet. and surely god's people have as much right to give utterance to their joy as the dupes of the devil have to give expression to theirs; and though the religion of the saviour requires us to surrender many pleasures and endure peculiar sorrows, yet it is, supremely, the religion of peace, joy, and overflowing gladness. mr. ellerthorpe was never guilty of proclaiming with the trumpet tongue of a pharisee, either what he felt or did, and though he kept a carefully written diary, extending over several volumes, and the reading of which has been a great spiritual treat to the writer of this book,--revealing, as it does, the secret of that intense earnestness, unbending integrity, active benevolence, and readiness for every good word and work by which our friend's religious career was distinguished,--yet of that diary our space will permit us to make but the briefest use. take the following extracts:-'january 1, 1852.--i, john ellerthorpe, here in the presence of my god, before whom i bow, covenant to live nearer to him than i have done in the year that has rolled into eternity.' [sidenote: his pious resolutions.] resolutions. '1st. i will bow three times a day in secret. 2nd. i will attend all the means of grace i can. 3rd. i will visit what sick i can. 4th. i will speak ill of no man. 5th. i will hear nothing against any man, especially those who belong to the same society. 6th. i will respect all men, especially christians. 7th. i will pray for a revival. 8th. i will guard against all bad language and ill feeling. 9th. i will never speak rash to any man. 10th. i will be honest in all my dealings. 11th. i will always speak the truth. 12th. i will never contract a debt without a proper prospect of payment. 13th. i will read three chapters of the bible daily. 14th. i will get all to class i possibly can. 15th. i will set a good example before all men, and especially my own family. 16th. i will not be bound for any man. 17th. i will not argue on scripture with any man. 18th. i will endeavour to improve my time. 19th. i will endeavour to be ready every moment. 20th. i will leave all my concerns in the hands of my god, for christ's sake. all these i intend, by the help of my god, diligently to perform.' that he always carried out these resolutions is more than his diary will warrant us to say. he sometimes missed the mark, and came short of his aim. he suffered from a certain hastiness of temper, and ruggedness of disposition, which, to use his own words, 'cost him a vast deal of watching and praying. but the lord,' he adds, 'has helped me in a wonderful manner, and i believe i shall reap if i faint not.' the following extracts from his diary will give some idea of his inner experience:-[sidenote: his diary.] [sidenote: his inner experience.] '_january 1850. 5th._--i feel the hardness of my heart and the littleness of my love, yet i am in a great degree able to deny myself to take up my cross to follow christ through good and evil report. _7th._--i feel that i am growing in grace and that i have more power over temptation, and over myself than i had some time since, but i want the witness of full sanctification. _8th._--what is now the state of my mind? do i now enjoy an interest in christ? am i a child of god? it is suggested by satan that i am guilty of many imperfections. i know it, but i know also if any man sin, etc. _feb. 18th._--i feel my heart is very hard and stubborn, that i am proud and haughty and very bad tempered, but god can, and i believe he will, break my rocky heart in pieces. _march 3rd._--this has been a good sabbath; we had a good prayer meeting at 7 o'clock, a profitable class at 9, in the school the lord was with us, and the preaching services were good. _4th._--last night i had a severe attack of my old complaint and suffered greatly for many hours, but i called upon god and he delivered me. _16th._--i am in good health, for which, and the use of my reason, and all the blessings that god bestows upon me, i am thankful. i am unworthy of the least of them. o that i could love god ten thousand times more than i do; for i feel ashamed of myself that i love him so little. _19th._--i am ill in body but well in soul. the flesh may give way, and the devil may tempt me, and all hell may rage, yet i believe the lord will bring me through. _april 6th._--to-day, in the haste of my temper, i called a man a liar. i now feel that i did wrong in the sight of god and man. i am deeply sorry. may god forgive me, and may i sin no more. _may 6th._--o god make me faithful and give to thy servant the spirit of prayer. like david, i want to resolve, "speak, lord; for thy servant heareth"; like mary i want to "ponder these things in my heart"; like the bereans i want to "search the scriptures" daily and in the spirit of samuel to say "speak, lord; for thy servant heareth." _may 20th._--i am at hessle feast, and thank god it has been a feast to my soul. i have attended one prayer meeting, two class meetings, three preaching services. bless god for these means of grace. my little book is full and i do trust i am a better man than when i began to write my diary. _29th._--my dear wife is very ill, but the lord does all things well. i know that he can, and believe that he will, raise her up again and that the affliction of her body will turn to the salvation of her soul. _30th._--i am now laid under fresh obligations to god. he has given me another son. may he be a goodly child, like moses, and grow up to be a man after god's own heart. _july 3rd._--this day the victoria docks have been opened. it has been a day of trial and conflict, for i ran the packet into a schooner and did â£10 damage. it was a trial of my faith, and through the assistance of god i overcame. _august 20th._--sunday.--how thankful i am that god has set one day in seven when we can get away from the wear and tear of life and worship him under our own vine and fig tree none daring to make us afraid. it is all of god's wisdom, and mercy, and goodness. _september 11th._--to-night i put my wife's name in the class book; may she be a very good member, such a one as thou wilt own when thou numbers up thy jewels. _october 11th._--i did wrong last night, being quite in a passion at my wife, which grieved her. lord help me and make me never differ with her again. _12th._--i feel much better in my soul this morning and will, from this day promise in the strength of grace, never to allow myself to be thrown into a passion again: it grieves my soul, it hurts my mind. 1851. _january 7th._--five years this day i entered my present situation under the hull dock company. then i was a drunken man, and a great swearer; but i thank god he has changed my heart. _18th._--this has been a very troublesome day to my soul. i have been busy with the sunken packet all day and hav'nt had time to get to prayer. my soul feels hungry. _29th._--this has been a day of prayerful anxiety about my son; he has passed his third examination, god having heard my prayer on his behalf. _feb. 24th._--i have been to the teetotal meeting and have taken the pledge, and i intend, through the grace of god, to keep as long as i live. _march 1st._--the rev. w. clowes is still alive. may the lord grant that he may not have much pain. while brother newton and i were in the room with him we felt it good; o the beauty of seeing a good man in a dying state. may i live the life of the righteous and may my last end be like mr. clowes's. _2nd._--the first thing i did this morning was to go and inquire after mr. clowes. i found that life was gone and that his happy spirit had taken its flight to heaven. _4th._--i am more than ever convinced of the great advantage we derive from entire sanctification; it preserves the soul in rest amid the toils of life; it gives satisfaction with every situation in which god pleases to place us.' [sidenote: his religious warmth.] sailor like mr. ellerthorpe was earnest, impulsive, enthusiastic, carrying a warm ardour and a brisk life into all his duties. he did not love a continual calm, rather he preferred the storm. he did not believe that because he was on board a good ship, had shaped his course aright, and had a compass never losing its polarity, that he would reach port whether he made sail or not, whether he minded his helm or not. he knew he couldn't _drift_ into port. with waterlogged and becalmed christians or those who heaved to crafts expecting to drift to the celestial heaven, he had but little fellowship. such he would cause to shake out reefs and have yards well trimmed to catch every breeze from the millenial trade winds. chapter iii. his christian labours. having become a subject of saving grace, mr. ellerthorpe felt an earnest desire that others should participate in the same benefit. nor was there any object so dear to his heart, and upon which he was at all times so ready to speak, as the conversion of sinners. he knew he did not possess the requisite ability for preaching the gospel, and therefore he sought out a humbler sphere in which his new-born zeal might spend its fires, and in that sphere he laboured, with remarkable success, during a quarter of a century. i now refer to the sick chamber. during all that time he took a deep interest in the sick and the dying; and for several years after his conversion, having much time at his disposal, he would often visit as many as twenty families per day, for weeks together. when cholera, that mysterious disease, with its sudden attacks, its racking cramps, its icy cold touch, and its almost resistless progress, swept through the town of hull, in the year 1849, leaving one thousand eight hundred and sixty,--or one in forty of the entire population,--_dead_, our friend was at any one's call, and never refused a single application; indeed, he was known as a great visitor of the sick and dying, and was often called in extreme cases to visit those from whom others shrank lest they should catch the contagion of the disorder. the scenes of suffering and distress which he witnessed baffled description. on one occasion he entered a room where a whole family were smitten with cholera. the wife lay cold and dead in one corner of the room, a child had just expired in another corner, and the husband and father was dying, amidst excruciating pain, in the middle of the room. john knelt down and spoke words of christian comfort to the man, who died in a few moments. [sidenote: he visits the sick.] for years, he was in the habit of accompanying mr. jones, when visiting the miserable garrets, obscure yards, and wretched alleys in hull, and was considered his 'right hand man,' in helping to hold open-air services. they often went in company to such wretched localities as 'leadenhall square,' then the greatest cesspool of vice in the port, and, well supplied with tracts, visited every house. during the intervals of public worship, on the sabbath day, when he might have been enjoying himself in the circle of his family, on a clean hearth, before a bright fire, he was pointing perishing sinners to the lamb of god. when our new and beautiful chapel in great thornton street was discovered to be on fire, at noon,--march, 1856, he was at the bedside of an afflicted woman, mrs. wright, speaking to her of her past sins and of a precious saviour. he had spent some time with her daily for months, but just at this time he became foreman of the victoria dock and could no longer pay his daily visits to the sick, which greatly distressed mrs. wright and others; but duty called him elsewhere and he obeyed its voice. he says, 'i durst not make any fresh engagements to visit the sick, and up to the present time (1867) i have rarely been able to visit, except on the sabbath day, all my time being required at the dock gates. but on the sabbath i love to get to the bedside of the sick; nothing does me more good; there my soul is often refreshed and my zeal invigorated.' those who are most averse to religion in life, generally desire to share its benefits in death. their religion is very much like the great coats which persons of delicate health wear in this changeable climate, and which they use in foul weather, but lay aside when it is fair. 'lord,' says david, 'in trouble they visited thee, they poured out a prayer when thy chastening was upon them.' [sidenote: accompanies mr. jones.] nor would we intimate that none truly repent of their sins and obtain forgiveness, under such circumstances. though late repentance is seldom genuine, yet, as mr. jay remarks, genuine repentance is never too late. god can pardon the sins of a century as easily as those of a day. our friend was the means, in the hand of god, of leading many, when worn by sickness and at the eleventh hour of life, to the lamb of god. his carefully kept diary records many such instances. we give one. he says, 'i remember one sunday coming from hessle with the rev. c. jones. our "hearts burned within us as we talked by the way," and when we got to coultam street, a number of well-dressed young men overheard our conversation, and began to shout after us and call us approbrious names. mr. j. talked with them, but to no purpose. four months after, mr. jones and myself went, as usual, to visit the inmates of the infirmary; mr. j. took one side and i the other, and when i came to a person who needed special counsel and advice, i used to call my friend to my aid. well, we met with a young man who burst into a flood of tears, and casting an imploring look towards mr. jones, he said, "o sir, do forgive me." "forgive you what?" said mr. j. "what have you done that you should ask _me_ to forgive you?" "sir," said he, "i am one of those young men who were so impertinent to you one sunday when you were returning from hessle; do forgive me, sir." "i freely forgive you," replied my friend, "you must ask god to forgive you, for it is against him you have sinned." we then prayed with him, and asked god to forgive him. he was suffering from a broken leg, and i often used to visit him after our first interview. he obtained pardon, and rejoiced in christ as his saviour. he was a brand plucked from the burning.' [sidenote: sick-bed repentance.] but mr. ellerthorpe also tells us that though he visited, during twenty-five years, hundreds of persons who cried aloud for mercy and professed to obtain forgiveness, on what was feared would be their dying beds, yet, he did not remember more than five or six who, on being restored to health, lived so as to prove their conversion genuine. the rest returned 'like the dog to its vomit, and the sow that was washed to her wallowing in the mire.' the sabbath-breaker forgot his vows and promises, and returned to his sunday pleasures. the swearer allowed his tongue to move as unchecked in insulting his maker as before. the drunkard thirsted for his intoxicating cups and returned to the scenes of his former dissipations; and the profligate, who avowed himself a 'changed man,' when health was fully restored, laughed at religion as a fancy, and hastened to wallow in the mire of pollution. he had scarcely a particle of faith in sick-bed repentances, but believed that in most instances they are solemn farces. deeply affecting and admonitory are some of the instances he records. he says, 'one night an engineer called me out of bed to visit his wife, who was attacked with cholera. while i was praying with _her_, _he_ was seized with the complaint. i visited them again the next day, when the woman died, but the husband, after a long affliction, recovered. he seemed sincerely penitent and made great promises of amendment. but, alas! like hundreds more whom i visited, he no sooner recovered, than he sought to shun me. at length he left the part of the town where he resided when i first visited him, as he said, "_to get out of my way_." but at that time, i visited in all parts of the town, and i often met him, and it used to pain me to see the dodges he had recourse to in order to avoid meeting me in the street.' he also records the case of a carter who resided in collier street. he was attacked with small pox, and was horrible to look at and infectious to come near, but being urged to visit him, 'i went to see him daily for a long time,' says john. 'one day when i called i found him, his wife, and child bathed in tears, for the doctor had just told them that the husband and father would be dead in a few hours. we all prayed that god would spare him, and spared he was. i continued to visit him thrice a day, and he promised that he would accompany me to class when he got better. at that time he seemed as though he would have had me ever with him. one day, as i entered his room, he said, "o mr. ellerthorpe, how i love to hear your foot coming into my house." i replied, 'do you think it possible that there will come a time when you will rather see any one's face and hear any one's voice than mine?' "never, no never," was his reply. i answered, 'well, i wish and hope it may never happen as i have supposed.' now, what followed? he went once to class, but i could not attend that night, having to watch the tide, and he never went again. i have seen him in the streets when he would go anywhere, or turn down any passage, rather than meet me; and when compelled to meet me he would look up at the sky or survey the chimney tops _rather_ than see me.' [sidenote: admonitory instances.] 'on one occasion, when visiting at the infirmary, going from ward to ward, and from bed to bed, i met with a young man, s. b----. he was very bad, and was afraid he was going to die. i talked with him often and long, pointing him to the saviour, and prayed with him. with penitential tears and earnest cries he sought mercy, and at length professed to obtain salvation. he recovered. one sunday, when at hessle, visiting my dying mother, i met this young man, and i shall never forget his agitated frame, and terrified appearance, when he saw me. he looked this way and that way; i said, 'well, b----, are you all right? have you kept the promises you made to the lord?' a blush of shame covered his face. i said 'why do you look so sad? have i injured you?' 'no, sir.' 'have you injured me?' 'i hope not,' was his reply. 'then look me in the face; are you beyond god's reach, or do you think that because he has restored your health once, he will not afflict you again? ah! my boy, the next time may be much worse than the last. and do you think god will believe you if you again promise to serve him? he looked round him and seemed as though he would have leaped over a drain that was close by.' [sidenote: his charity.] conscience is a busy power within the breast of the most desperate, and when roused by the prospect of death and judgment, it speaks in terrible tones. the notorious muller denied the murder of mr. briggs, until, with cap on his face and the rope round his neck, he submitted to the final appeal and acknowledged, as he launched into eternity, 'yes, i have done it.' but the cries of these persons seem to have arisen, not from an abhorrence of sin, but from a dread of punishment; they feared hell, and hence they wished for heaven; they desired to be saved from the consequences of sin, but were not delivered from the love of it. need we wonder that our friend had but little faith in a sick-bed repentance? scripture and reason alike warn us against trusting to such repentance, 'be not deceived; god is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. for he that soweth to the flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the spirit shall of the spirit reap life everlasting.' while our friend felt that he would have been unworthy the name of a christian had he not felt more for the spiritual than for the temporal woes of his fellow creatures, yet the latter were not forgotten by him; and it sometimes grieved him that he could not more largely minister to the temporal wants of the poor, the fatherless, the orphans, and the widows, whom he visited. [sidenote: his self-denial.] and perhaps one of the most painful trials a visitor of the sick endures is, to go moneyless to a chamber that has been crossed by want, and whose inmate is utterly unable to supply his own necessities; but when the visitor can relieve the physical as well as the spiritual necessities of the sufferer, with what a buoyant step and cheerful heart he enters the abode of poverty and suffering! and his words, instead of falling like icicles on the sufferer's soul, fall on it as refreshing as a summer rain, warm as the tempered ray, and welcome as a mother's love. such a visitor has often chased despair from the abode of wretchedness, and filled it with the atmosphere of hope. [sidenote: gives up tobacco.] hence, that he might participate in this joy, and have wherewith to relieve the needy, mr. ellerthorpe abstained from the use of tobacco, of which, at one period of his life, he was an immoderate consumer. one sabbath morning, while he and mr. harrison were visiting the sick, they met two wretched-looking boys, fearfully marked with small pox (from an attack of which complaint they were beginning to recover), and crying for a drink of milk. their father, who was far advanced in life, could not supply their wants. john's heart was touched, and he thought, 'here am i, possessed of health, food, and raiment, while these poor children are festering with disease, but scantily clothed, and not half fed. a sixpence, a basin of milk, or a loaf of bread, would be a boon to them. can i help them?' he gave the old man sixpence, while he and mr. harrison told the milkman to leave a quantity of milk at the man's house daily, for which they would pay. it was with a radiant face, and a tremble of glad emotion in his voice, that our friend, in relating this circumstance to us one day, said:--'i felt a throb of pleasure when i did that little act of kindness, such as i had never felt before,' when, quick as lightning, the thought crossed his mind, 'why i smoke six pennyworth of tobacco every week!' and there and then he resolved to give up the practice. on the next friday, when mrs. ellerthorpe was setting down on paper a list of the groceries wanted, she proceeded, as usual, to say, 'tea--coffee--sugar--_tobacco_--,' 'stop,' said her husband, 'i've done with that. i'll have no more.' now, mrs. e. had always enjoyed seeing her husband smoke; it had often proved a powerful sedative to him when wearied with the cares of life, and the numberless irritations of his trying vocation, and therefore she replied, 'nonsense, you will soon repent of that whim. i shall get two ounces as usual, and i know you'll smoke it.' 'i shall never touch it again,' was his firm reply, and ever after kept his word. [sidenote: his teetotalism.] a world full of misery, both temporal and spiritual, surrounds us, and which might be effectually relieved, were all christians, many of whom are laggard in effort and niggard in bounty, to manifest a tithe of the self-denial which mr. ellerthorpe practiced. 'what maintains one vice, would support two children.' robert hall says:--it is the practice of self-denial in a thousand little instances which forms the truest test of character.' mr. fletcher, vicar of madeley, was on one occasion driven close for means to discharge the claims of the poor, when he said to his wife, 'o polly, can we not do without beer? let us drink water, and eat less meat. let our necessities give way to the extremities of the poor.' and at a meeting held the other night, a donation was announced thus:--'a poor man's savings from tobacco, â£5.' and are there not tens of thousands of professors who could present similar offerings if they, in the name and spirit of their great master, tried? do we not often come in contact with men who complain that they cannot contribute to the cause of god and humanity, who, at the same time, indulge in the use of snuff, tobacco, or intoxicating drinks; all of which might be laid aside to the gain of god's cause, and without at all lessening either the health, reputation, or happiness of the consumer? and are there not others, of good social position, who do not give as much to relieve the temporal sufferings of their fellow creatures, during twelve months, as it costs them to provide a single feast for a few well-to-do friends? the merchant who sold his chips and shavings, and presented the proceeds to the cause of god, while he kept the solid timber for himself, is the type of too many professors of religion! chapter iv. his staunch teetotalism. perhaps no class of men have suffered more from the evils of intemperance than our brave sailors, fishermen, and rivermen. foreigners tell our missionaries to convert our drunken sailors abroad, and when they wish to personify an englishman, they mockingly reel about like a drunken man. and what lives have been lost through the intemperance of captains and crews! the 'st. george,' with 550 men: 'the kent,' 'east indiaman,' with most of her passengers and crew: 'the ajax,' with 350 people: 'the rothsway castle,' with 100 men on board, with many others we might name, were all lost through the drunkenness of those in charge of the vessels. of the forty persons whom our friend rescued from drowning, a very large percentage got overboard through intemperance. we read that on the morning following the passover night in egypt, there was not a house in which there was not one dead, and it would be difficult to find a house in our land, occupied by sailors, in which this monster evil has not slain its victim, either physically or morally. [sidenote: his drunken father.] our friend, speaking of his own family, says:--'i owe my christian name to the favour with which drunkenness was regarded by my relatives. soon after i was born, one of my uncles asked, "what is the lad's name to be?" "thomas," replied my mother. "never," said my uncle, in surprise, "we had two thomas's, and they both did badly; call him john. i have known four john's in the family, and they _were all great drunkards, but that was the worst that could be said of them_." 'so it appears,' said our friend, 'that at that time it was thought no very bad thing for a man to get drunk, if he was not in the habit of being brought before the magistrate for theft, &c.' john's father was one of the four drunkards. in early life he became a hard drinker, and he continued the practice until a damaged constitution, emptied purse, a careworn wife, and a neglected family, were the bitter fruits of his inebriation. 'he drank hard,' says john, 'spending almost all his money in drink, and was at last forced to sell his vessel and take to the menial work of helping to load and unload vessels. at length he went to sea, and for a long time we heard nothing of him; nor did my mother receive any money from him. in old age he was quite destitute, and while it gave me great pleasure to minister to his necessities, it often grieved me to think of the cause of his altered circumstances.' nightly, when ashore, john, the elder, went to the public house, and it was his invariable rule never to return home until his wife fetched him. often, when mrs. ellerthorpe was in a feeble state of health, and amid the howling winds and drenching rains of a winter's night, would she go in search of her drunken husband, and by her winning ways and kind entreaties induce him to return home. she was known to be a god-fearing woman, and often on the occasion of these visits, her husband's companions--some of whom were 'tippling professors' of religion--would try to entangle her in religious conversation, but to every entreaty she had one reply, 'if you want to talk with me about religion come to my house. i will not speak of it here; for i am determined never to fight the devil on his own ground.' [sidenote: imitates his father.] and was this christian woman wrong in calling the public house the devil's ground? we have 140,000 of these houses in our land, and are they not so many reservoirs from whence the devil floods our country with crime, wretchedness, and woe? is it not there that his deluded victims, in thousands of instances, destroy their fortune, ruin their health, and form those habits which wither the beauty, scatter the comforts, blast the reputation, and bury once happy families in the tomb of disgrace? and is it not at the public house that the sounds of blasphemy, cursing, and swearing, sedition, uncleanness, laciviousness, hatred, quarrels, murders, gambling, revelling, and such like, are begun? and you might as reasonably expect to preserve your health in a pest-house, your modesty in a brothel, and high-souled principles amongst gamesters, as to expect to preserve your religious character undamaged amid the impure atmosphere of a public house. can a man go upon hot coals and his feet not be burnt? one hour spent around the drunkard's table has often done an amount of harm to the cause of god and the souls of men which the devotion of years could not undo. [sidenote: becomes a drunkard.] a youth, on being urged to take the pledge, said, 'my father drinks, and i don't want to be better than my father.' and, alas! for our friend, he early imbibed the tastes and followed the example of his father, for drink got the mastery of him. speaking of his boyhood, he says, 'i remember a man saying to my father, "your son is a sharp lad, and he will make a clever man, if only you set him a good example, and keep him from drink." to which my father replied, "o drink will not hurt him; if he does nothing worse than take a sup of drink he'll be all right; drink never hurt anyone." but, alas! my father lived to see that a "little sup" did not serve me, for i have heard him say with sorrow, "the lad drinks hard." but he was the first to set me the example, and if parents wish their children to abstain from intoxicating drinks, they should set the example by being abstainers themselves. the best and most lasting way of doing good to a family is for parents first to do right themselves.' but with such a training as john had, what wonder that he became a 'hard drinker.' for years previous to his marriage his experience was something like that of an old 'hard-a-weather' on board a homeward-bound indiaman, who was asked by a lady passenger, 'whether he would not be glad to get home and see his wife and children, and spend the summer with them in the country?' poor jack possessed neither home, nor wife, nor chick nor child; and his recollections of green fields and domestic enjoyments were dreamily associated with early childhood. and hence a big tear rolled down his weather-beaten but manly cheek as he said to his fair questioner, 'well, i don't know, i suppose it will be another _roll in the gutter, and away again_.' our friend was for years a 'reeling drunkard,' and often, during this sad period of his existence, he literally 'rolled in the gutter.' but when he experienced a saving change he at once became a sober man, and began to treat public houses after the fashion of the fox in the fable--who declined the invitation to the lion's den, because he had observed that the only footsteps in its vicinity were towards it and none from it. he further saw that to indulge in the use of intoxicating drinks, and then pray, 'lead me not into temptation,' savoured less of piety than of presumption. he attended a temperance meeting at which the rev. g. lamb spoke of the importance of christian professors abstaining for the good of others, as well as for their own safety. john felt that his sphere of action was limited in its range and insignificant in its character; yet he knew he possessed influence; as a husband and father, and as a member of civil and religious society, he knew that his conduct would produce an effect on those to whom he was related, and with whom he had to do. 'no man liveth to himself.' he knew how to do good, and not to have done it would have been sin. and that thought decided him. at the close of the meeting, persons were invited to take the pledge of total abstinence, but not one responded to the invitation. john saw, sitting at his right hand, a man who had been a great drunkard, and whose shattered nerves, unsteady hand, and bloodshot eyes, told of the sad effects of his conduct. placing his hand on this man's shoulder, he said, 'will you take the pledge?' 'i will if you will,' was the man's reply. 'done,' said john, and scarcely had they reached the platform, when about twenty others followed and took the pledge. [sidenote: signs the pledge.] his diary contains this record, 'february 24th, 1851. i have been to the teetotal meeting, and i have taken the pledge, and i intend, through the grace of god, to keep it as long as i live.' from that night john became a practical and pledged abstainer from all intoxicating drinks, and induced many a poor drunkard to follow his example. no man stood higher than he in temperance circles. he adorned _that_ profession. in his extensive intercourse with his fellow men, he proved himself the fast friend and unflinching advocate of total abstinence, having delivered hundreds of addresses and circulated thousands of tracts, in vindication of its principles. a few years before his death, he was travelling from hull to howden, by rail; the compartment was full of passengers, and he began, as usual, to circulate his tracts and to speak in favour of temperance. [sidenote: the aged clergyman.] an aged clergyman present said, 'i always give you hull folks great credit for being teetotalers.' 'and why the people of hull more than the people of any other place?' asked john. 'because your water is filthy and dirty, and i never could drink it without a mixture of brandy.' 'that our water is dirty i admit,' said john, 'but i have drank it both with brandy and without, and if you felt as i feel, i am sure, sir, you would discontinue the practice of brandy drinking.' 'oh, i suppose you are one of those men who get all the drink you can and when you can get no more you turn teetotaller,' was the rejoinder. 'you are mistaken, sir; for i can call most of the persons present to witness, that i laid aside the intoxicating glass when i possessed the most ample means and every opportunity of getting plenty of drink, and at little or no cost to myself. but i saw that i should be a safer and happier man myself, and a greater blessing to others if i abstained, and therefore i signed the pledge; and you must pardon me, sir, when i say, that if you felt as i feel, you would, as a minister of the gospel, pursue the same course.' 'o!' said he, with indignation lowering in his countenance and thundering in his voice, 'i have taken my brandy daily for years, and it never did me any hurt.' 'granted,' replied our friend, 'but if you can drink with safety, can others? have you never seen the evil effects of tampering with the glass? have none of your acquaintances or friends fallen victims to drunkenness? let me give you a case, sir. one of my former employers had a son who, up to the twentieth year of his age, had never tasted intoxicating drinks. but he had a weak constitution and a slender frame, and the doctor ordered him to take a little brandy and water twice a day. he did so, and began to like it. he soon wanted it oftener, and told the man to make it stronger, and the man did as he was told. one day he had put but a few drops of water into a large glass of brandy, but the young gentleman said, 'did'nt i tell you to make it stronger? let the next glass be stronger.' he soon called _for the next glass_, and having swallowed it, said, in a rage, 'what a fool you are. i told you to let me have it stronger.' 'sir,' said the man, 'you can't have it stronger, for the glass you have just drank was "neat" as it came from the bottle.' 'and is that a fact,' exclaimed the young gentleman. 'has it come to this? am i to be a slave to that liquid? never! take it away, and from this day i'll never drink another glass.' this statement was listened to with marked attention by all the passengers, and when the train arrived at howden station, they gave forth a spontaneous burst of applause. the clergyman sat ashamed and speechless, and, on leaving the train, refused to shake hands with our friend who had administered to him this well-timed and well-merited rebuke. [sidenote: advocates total abstinence.] i have stated that our friend spoke at hundreds of temperance meetings, and his bluntness of manner, curt style of address, and nautical phrases, won for him a ready hearing. whenever he rose on the platform eyes beamed and hearts throbbed with delight. not that his hearers expected to listen to an eloquent speech, or to be amused by laughter-exciting and fun-making eccentricities, but he rose with the influence of established character, combined with an ardent temperament, a ready wit, and a face beaming with the sunshine of piety towards god and good-will to men. besides, there was a just appreciation of his many deeds of gallantry, some of which he occasionally related, and which rarely failed to fill his hearers with admiration for the brave heart that could prompt and the ready skill that could perform them. hence, he was listened to in the town and neighbourhood of hull with an amount of sympathy, attention, and respect which no other advocate of total abstinence, possessed of the same mental abilities, could command. [sidenote: forms a band of hope.] the _band of hope_ had a warm friend and powerful advocate in the person of mr. ellerthorpe, and it was in connexion with its services that he found his most congenial employment. 3,000,000 of the inhabitants of our country are now pledged abstainers from intoxicating drinks, and this number includes upwards of 2,000 ministers of the gospel. but thirty years ago this cause was regarded with disfavour even by the religious public. hence, when mr. ellerthorpe and others sought to form a band of hope in connexion with the primitive methodist sabbath school, great thornton street, hull, they met with much opposition from several members of the society, and also from some of the teachers in the school, who were 'tipplers,' and could not endure the idea of a band of hope. but the band was formed, with mr. ellerthorpe as president, and it soon numbered three hundred members. before his death he saw upwards of thirty of these juvenile bands formed in hull. he attended most of their anniversaries, throwing a flood of genial merriment, just like dancing sunlight, over his young auditors. hundreds of these 'cold water drinkers' sometimes listened to him on these occasions, and as he related some of the scenes of his eventful life, their young hearts throbbed and their eyes filled with tears. we cannot close this chapter of our little book without asking, were the motives which led our friend to sign the pledge, right or wrong? the celebrated paley lays down this axiom, 'that where one side is doubtful and one is safe, we are as morally bound to take the safe side as if a voice from heaven said, "this is the way, walk ye in it."' and is not total abstinence the only safe side for the abstainer himself? some men have a strong predisposition for intoxicating drinks, and they must abstain or be ruined. naturalists tell us that in order to tame a tiger he must never be allowed to taste blood. let him have but one taste and his whole nature is changed. and the men to whom i refer are humane, upright, chaste, kind to their children and affectionate to their wives, while they can be kept from intoxicating drinks, but let them taste, only _taste_, and their passions become so strong and their appetites so rampant, that they are inspired with the most ferocious dispositions, and perpetrate deeds, the mere mention of which would appal them in their sober moments. and where is the moderate drinker who can point to the glass and say, 'i am safe?' as that dexterous murderer, palmer, administered his doses in small quantities, and thus gradually and daily undermined the constitution of his victims, and, as it were, muffled the footfalls of death, so strong drink does not all at once over master its victims; but how often have we known it gradually, and after years of tippling, lead them captive into the vortex of drunkenness. [sidenote: total abstinence.] but admitting, for the sake of argument, that you can drink with safety to yourself, can you drink with safety to others? 'no man liveth to himself.' we are all a kind of chameleon, and naturally derive a tinge from that which is near us. our friend attributes his early drunkenness to the influence and example of his father. you should view your drinking habits in the light of these passages of scripture, 'look not every man on his own things, but every man also on the things of others.' 'it is good neither to eat flesh, nor to drink wine, nor anything whereat thy brother stumbleth or is made weak.' so that you may look at paley's saying, in its application to the use of strong drinks, again and again; you may examine it as closely as you like, and criticise it as often as you please, still it remains true, that to drink is _doubtful_, while to abstain is _safe_, and that we are as morally bound to choose the latter as if a voice from heaven said, 'this is the way, walk ye in it.' 'let us not, therefore, judge one another any more, but judge this rather that no man put a stumblingblock or an occasion, to fall in his brother's way.'--rom. xiv. 13. chapter v. his bold adventures on the water. [sidenote: swimming advocated.] that swimming is a noble and useful art, deserving the best attention of all classes of the community, is a fact few will dispute. 'swimming,' says locke, 'ought to form part of every boy's education!' it is an art that is easily acquired; it is healthy and pleasurable as an exercise, being highly favourable to muscular development, agility of motion, and symmetry of form; and it is of inconceivable benefit as the means of preserving or saving life in seasons of peril, when death would otherwise prove inevitable. mr. ellerthorpe early became an accomplished swimmer; he often fell overboard, and but for his skill in the art under consideration he would have been drowned. he also enjoyed the happiness of having saved upwards of forty persons, who, but for his efforts must, to all human appearance, have perished. to a maratime nation like ours, with a rugged and dangerous coast-line of two thousand miles, indented by harbours, few and far from each other, and with a sea-faring population of half a million, it seems as necessary that the rising generation should learn to swim as that they should be taught the most common exercises of youth. and yet 'this natatory art' is but little cultivated amongst us. on the continent, and among foreigners generally, swimming is practised and encouraged far more than it is in england. in the normal swimming school of denmark, some thirty years ago, there were educated 105 masters destined to teach the art throughout the kingdom. in france, vienna, copenhagen, stockholm, berne, amsterdam, &c., similar means were adopted, and very few persons in those countries are entirely destitute of a knowledge of the art. but so generally is this department of juvenile training neglected by us as a people, that _only one in every ten who gain their livelihood on the water_ are able to swim. [sidenote: hull swimming club.] mr. ellerthorpe, in a characteristic letter, says: 'i think no schoolmaster should regard the education of his scholars complete unless he has taught them to swim. that art is of service when everything else is useless. i once heard of a professor who was being ferried across a river by a boatman, who was no scholar. so the professor said, "can you write, my man?" "no, sir," said the boatman. "then you have lost one third of your life," said the professor. "can you read?" again asked he of the boatman. "no," replied the latter, "i can't read." "then you have lost the half of your life," said the professor. now came the boatman's turn. "can you swim?" said the boatman to the professor. "no," was his reply. "then," said the boatman, "you have lost the whole of your life, for the boat is sinking and you'll be drowned." now, sir, i think that if those fathers who spend so much money on the intellectual education of their children, would devote but a small portion of it to securing for them a knowledge of the art of swimming, they would confer a great blessing on those children, and also on society at large. i would have every one learn to swim females as well as males; for many of both sexes come under my notice every year who are drowned, but who, with a little skill in swimming, might have been saved. not fewer than forty men and boys were lost from the hull smacks alone during the year 1866, of whom twenty per cent, might have been saved had they been able to swim.' [sidenote: he learns to swim.] mr. ellerthorpe was, for many years, master of the 'hull swimming club,' and also of 'the college youth's swimming club,' and his whole life was a practical lesson on the value of the art of swimming. he contended that the youths of hull ought to be taught this art, and pleaded that a sheet of water which had been waste and unproductive for twenty years should be transformed into a swimming bath. the local papers favoured the scheme, and alderman dennison, moved in the town council, that â£350 should be devoted to this object, which was carried by a majority. the late titus salt, esq., who had given â£5,000 to the 'sailor's orphan home,' said at the time, 'i think _your corporation ought to make the swimming bath_ alluded to in the enclosed paper; _do ask them_.' 'the private individual who gives his _fifty_ hundreds to a particular institution,' to use the words of the _hull and eastern counties' herald, oct. 10th_, 1857, 'has surely a right to express an opinion that the municipal corporation ought to grant _three_ hundreds, if by so doing the public weal would be provided. if the voice of such a man is to be disregarded, then it may truly be said that our good old town has fallen far below the exalted position it occupied when it produced its wilberforce and its marvel.' for upwards of forty years mr. ellerthorpe was known as a fearless swimmer and diver, and during that period he saved no fewer than forty lives by his daring intrepidity. in his boyhood, he, to use his own expression, '_felt quite at home in the water_,' and betook himself to it as natively and instinctively as the swan to the water or the lark to the sky. 'this art,' to use the words of an admirable article in the _shipwrecked mariners' magazine_ for october, 1862, 'he has cultivated so successfully that in scores of instances he has been able to employ it for the salvation of life and property. perhaps the history of no other living person more fully displays the value of this art than john ellerthorpe. joined with courage, promptitude, and steady self-possession, it has enabled him repeatedly to preserve his own life, and what is far more worthy of record, to save not fewer than thirty-nine of his fellow creatures, who, humanly speaking, must otherwise have met with a watery grave.' [sidenote: his reckless daring.] it is but right to state that, in the early period of his history, a thoughtless disregard of his own life, and an overweening confidence in his ability to swim almost any length, and amid circumstances of great peril, often led him to deeds of 'reckless daring,' which in riper years he would have trembled to attempt. respecting most of the following circumstances he says, 'i look upon those perilous adventures as so many foolish and wicked temptings of providence. i have often wondered i was not drowned, and attribute my preservation to the wonder-working providence of god, who has so often 'redeemed my life from destruction, and crowned me with loving kindness and tender mercies.' and certainly we should remember that heroism is one thing, reckless daring another. two or three instances will illustrate this. a few years ago blondin, for the sake of money, jeopardized his life at the crystal palace, by walking blindfolded on a tight-rope, and holding in his hand a balancing pole. in so doing he was foolhardy, but not heroic. but a certain frenchman, at alencon, walked on one occasion on a rope over some burning beams into a burning house, otherwise inaccessible, and succeeded in saving six persons. this was the act of a true hero. when mr. worthington, the 'professional diver,' plunged into the water and saved six persons from drowning, who, but for his skill and dexterity as a swimmer, would certainly have met with a watery grave, he acted the part of a 'hero;' but when, the other day, he made a series of nine 'terrific plunges' from the chain pier at brighton--a height of about one hundred and twenty feet--merely to gratify sensational sightseers, or to put a few shillings into his own pocket, he acted the part of a foolhardy man. can we wonder that he was within an ace of losing his life in this mad exploit? and when john ellerthorpe dived to the bottom of 'clarke's bit,' to gratify a number of young men who had 'more money than wit,' and struggled in the water with a bag of coals on his back, he put himself on a par with those men who place their lives in imminent danger by dancing on ropes, swinging on cords, tying themselves into knots like a beast, or crawling on ceilings like some creeping thing! but when he used his skill to save his fellow creatures, he was a true hero, and was justified in perilling his own life, considering that by so doing the safety of others might be secured. we shall close this chapter by recording a few of his deeds of reckless daring. * * * * * [sidenote: john's first attempt at swimming.] 'my first attempt at swimming took place at hessle, when i was about twelve years of age. there was a large drain used for the purpose of receiving the water from both the sea and land. my father managed the sluice, which was used for excluding, retaining, and regulating the flow of water into this drain. it was a first rate place for lads to bathe in, and i have sometimes bathed in it ten times a day; indeed, i regret to say, i spent many days there when i ought to have been at school. i soon got to swim in this drain, but durst not venture into the harbour. but one day i accidentally set my dirty feet upon the shirt of a boy who was much older and bigger than myself, and in a rage he took me up in his arms and threw me into the harbour. i soon felt safe there, nor did i leave the harbour till i had crossed and recrossed it thirty-two times. the next day i swam the whole length of the harbour twice, and from that day i began to match myself with expert swimmers, nor did i fear swimming with the best of them. some other lads were as venturesome as myself, and we used to go up the humber with the tides, for several miles at once. i remember on one occasion it blew a strong gale of wind from s.w., several vessels sank in the humber, and a number of boats broke adrift, while a heavy sea was running: i stripped and swam to one of the boats, got into her, and brought her to land, for which act the master of the boat gave me five shillings. during the same gale a keel came ashore at hessle; i stripped and swam to her and brought a rope on shore, by the assistance of which, two men, a woman, and two children escaped from the vessel. the tide was receding at the time, so that they were enabled, with the assistance of the rope, to walk ashore. there are several old men living now who well remember this circumstance. [sidenote: swims across the humber.] 'soon after this occurrence, i remember one saturday afternoon, going with some other boys of my own age, and swimming across the humber, a distance of two miles. we started from swanland fields (which was then enclosed), yorkshire, and landed at the old warp, lincolnshire. here we had a long run and a good play, and then we recrossed the humber. but in doing so we were carried up as far as ferriby sluice, and had to run back to where we had left our clothes in charge of some lads, but when we got there the lads had gone, and we didn't know what to do. we sought for our clothes a full hour, when a man, in the employ of mr. pease told us that the lads had put them under some bushes, where we at last found them. we were in the water four hours. this was an act of great imprudence. 'on another occasion myself and some other lads played truant from school, and went towards the humber to bathe, but the schoolmaster, mr. peacock, followed us closely. he ran and i ran, and i had just time to throw off my clothes and leap into the water, when he got to the bank. he was afraid i should be drowned, and called out 'if you will come back i won't tell your father and mother.' but i refused to return, for at that time i felt no fear in doing what i durst not have attempted when i got older. [sidenote: swims in hessle harbour.] 'on several occasions some young gentlemen, who were scholars at hessle boarding school, got me to go and bathe with them. they had plenty of money, and i had none; and as they offered to pay me, i was glad to go with them. one day while we were bathing, the eldest son of mr. earnshaw, of hessle, had a narrow escape from drowning. i was a long way from him at the time, but i did all i could to reach and rescue him. he was very ill for some days, and the doctor forbade him bathing for a long time to come. this deterred us from bathing for awhile, but we soon forgot it. we agreed to have a swimming match, and the boy that swam the farthest was to have _sixpence_. we started at three o'clock in the afternoon from the third jetty below hessle harbour, and went up with the tide. one of the boys got the lead of me and i could not overtake him until we got opposite cliffe mill, about a mile and a half from where we started. he then began to fag, while i felt as brisk as a lark and fresher than when i began. i soon took the lead, and when i got to ferriby lane-end, i lost my mate altogether. however, i knew he was a capital swimmer, and i felt afraid lest he should turn up again, so i swam as far as melton brickyard, and fairly won the prize. i had swam about seven miles, and believe i could have swam back without landing. [sidenote: his exploits on the water.] 'when i was about fifteen years of age a steam packet came to hessle, bringing a number of swimmers from hull. soon alter their arrival a lad came running to me and said, "jack, there's some of those hull chaps bathing, and they say they can beat thee." i didn't like that; and when i got to them, a young gentleman said, pointing to me, "here is a lad that shall swim you for what you like." one of them said, "is he that ellerthorpe of hessle?" "no matter who he is," replied the young man, "i'll back him for a sovereign," when one of the young gentlemen called out, "it is jack ellerthorpe, i won't have aught to do with him, for he can go as fast feet foremost as i can with my hands foremost, he's a first-rate swimmer." by this time i was stripped, and at once plunged into the river. i crept on my hands and knees on the water, and then swam backwards and forwards with my feet foremost, and not one among them could swim with me. i showed them the "porpoise race," which consisted in disappearing under the water, and then coming "bobbing" up suddenly, at very unlikely spots. i then took a knife and cut my toe-nails in the water. the young gents were greatly delighted, and afterwards they would have matched me to swim anybody, to any distance. and i believe that at that time i could have swam almost any length; for after i had swam two or three miles my spirits seemed to rise, and my strength increased. when other lads seemed thoroughly beaten out, i was coming to my best, and the longer i remained in the water the easier and faster i could swim. [sidenote: swims to barrow.] 'it will be remembered by some who will read these pages, that about ... years ago a mr. burton was returned, as a member of parliament for beverley. he was a wild, drunken, half-crazy fellow, and i remember he came to hessle about two o'clock one afternoon, and drove full gallop, with postillions, up to my father's house. at that time my father was ferryman, and mr. burton wanted a boat to take him to barton. "but," said my father, "there is no water," when the member of parliament said, "won't money make the boat swim?" "i'm afraid not," was my father's reply. at that time, however, there was a ballast lighter at cliffe, and my father and i went to see if we could borrow the lighter's boat; we succeeded, and as it was a great distance from the water (the tide being low), my father asked the cliffe men to help in launching it, when about thirty of them came to his assistance. mr. burton left a guinea to be spent in drink for the men. we then started in the boat, and took mr. burton to barrow, there being no _usable_ jetty at barton. i was to run to barton for a post-chaise, but before we got to the shore the boat ran aground, so out of the boat i jumped, and away i ran, until i came to a pool of water, about twelve feet deep. almost mad with excitement, i sprang into it, and small as i was, soon crossed it and was ashore. mr. burton saw me in the water, and he was afraid i should be drowned, and when i returned with the chaise he gave me a sovereign, the first i ever had, so you may be sure i was mightily pleased. i found my father and the men drunk, and they gave me some rum. on being asked, "what mr. burton had given me," i evaded the question by saying "a shilling," for i was of opinion that if my father had known i had got so much as i had, he would have taken most of it to spend in drink. so i hastened home and gave the sovereign to my mother, and we were both highly delighted to possess so large a sum of money. 'the following amusing circumstance took place in 1836-7, when i belonged to the barton and hessle packet. one day we had put on board the "tow boat" a great number of fat beasts, belonging, if i remember rightly, to mr. wood, of south dalton. the "tow boat" was attached to the steamer by a large thick rope. we had not got far from barton when the boat capsized, and we were in an awful mess. the boat soon filled with water; some of the beasts swam one way and some another, while several got entangled in the rails attached to the boat's side, and were every moment in danger of breaking their legs. so seizing an axe i jumped into the water and cut away the rails, and then went in pursuit of the oxen, heading them round in the water and causing them, by shouts and gestures, to swim for the land. most of them were driven back to barton and landed safely, others swam across the humber and were landed at hessle. i was up to my chest in water and mud for nearly three hours swimming backwards and forwards after the beasts; sometimes i had hold of their tails, and anon had to meet them and turn them towards the shore. there are lots of people now living at barton who saw the affray, and who could describe it much better than i have done. [sidenote: john and the beasts.] 'a similar incident took place in 1844. i was captain of a ferry-boat plying between winteringham and brough. one sabbath-day i was taking a load of beasts from brough to winteringham, and when we had got about half way across the humber, the boat upset, and the beasts were thrown into the water. i was afraid they all would be drowned, and, in spite of all i could do, some of them were. i jumped overboard and drove some of them back to brough, while others swam to the lincolnshire side of the river. i was swimming about after the beasts for five hours, chasing them backwards and forwards, turning them this way and that, and doing what nobody but myself would have done. at length, several men came to our assistance, and when we had got the poor animals out of the water, we hastened to the public-house at the harbour-side, and got drunk. i kept my wet clothes on until they dried on my back. this was one of the most wretched days of my life. my anxiety about the beasts, the exhaustion brought on by my efforts to get them safe to land, and the sense of misery and degradation i felt when i thought of the plight i was found in on the blessed sabbath-day, i shall never forget. 'on one occasion i was helping to load the "magna charter," and being half drunk, i fell into hull harbour, with upwards of eight stones of coal on my back, but through foolish bravado i refused to let the bag drop into the water. after being in the water several minutes, i swam to the landing with the coals on my back, amid the deafening shouts of scores of spectators. i look back on this act of temerity with feelings of shame and unmixed regret.' [sidenote: he is cast overboard.] when sailing from hull to barton, one night in the year 1842, john was thrown overboard. the night was dark, the wind was blowing a heavy gale from the west, and every moment the spring-tide, then at its height, carried him further from the packet, which soon became unmanageable. the boat was launched, but the engineer, who had charge of it, became greatly agitated and much alarmed, and uttered the most piteous cries. 'i felt more for him than i did for myself,' says john, 'and though one moment lost in the trough of the sea, and the next on the crest of the billows, now near the boat and again fifty yards from it, i cried out, 'scull away. bob, scull away, thou'll soon be at me.' after being in the water half-an-hour i reached the boat in safety. all this time i had on the following garments, made of very stout pilot-cloth: a pair of trousers, a double-breasted waistcoat, a surtout coat, and a heavy great coat, which came down to my ancles, a thick shawl round my neck, and a new pair of wellington boots on my feet. i had in my pockets the following sums of money: â£25 in bank notes; 25 sovereigns; â£4 16s. 6d. in silver, and 8d. in coppers; also a tobacco-box, a large pocket knife, and a silver watch and guard. i made an attempt to throw off some of my clothes, but the thought of losing another man's money checked me. besides, the suit of clothes i had on was bran-new, and being a poor man, and only just earning a livelihood, i could not brook the thought of having to get a new "rigging." when a wave carried me a great way from the boat, i unbuttoned my coat and prepared to throw it off, that i might more easily swim to land. and when it seemed certain i should have to make this attempt, i felt for my knife, that i might cut off my boots, and i believe i could have done it; but, after a desperate effort, i approached within a few yards of the boat, when i again buttoned my coat. i felt confident i could have reached the shore--a distance of one mile--had i been compelled to make the trial. my wellington boots had nearly cost me my life, as they were heavy and difficult to swim in, and i never wore a pair after this fearful night.' [sidenote: his skill as a diver.] there is another department of the art now under consideration, in which our friend greatly excelled, namely, that of diving. there are few divers who do not feel a kind of exultation in their power over the element, and in their ability to move under the surface of the water with ease and pleasure. half a century ago, diving was a difficult and dangerous art, demanding great skill and endurance; but modern science has given the professional diver an almost perfect accoutrement, by means of which he can literally walk down to the bottom of the sea, and telegraph for as much air as he requires. hence, it has been utterly deprived of all dramatic element. properly managed, the thing is as easy as going up in a balloon, or going down a coal pit; but our friend excelled in 'real naked diving.' [sidenote: he dives in 'clark's bit.'] his first attempt at fetching anything from under water took place when he was about sixteen years of age. the vessel in which he then sailed was being painted at 'clark's bit,' castleford, when john accidentally let his brush fall overboard, and it sank to the bottom. the captain was furious for about an hour, when, having handed the lad another brush, he went into the town. john could not brook the hour's grumbling to which he had been subjected, and hence, scarcely had the master left the vessel, when he threw off his clothes and dived to the bottom of the 'bit,' a depth of twenty-six feet, and brought up the brush. he hastily put on his clothes, and when the master returned, john held up the brush, and with that comical twinkle of the eye and humorous expression of the countenance, so common with sailors, said, 'here's your brush. sir.' 'what brush?' asked the master. 'the brush i lost overboard an hour ago,' said john. 'that's a lie.' replied the master, 'how could you get it?' 'i dived to the bottom and brought it up,' was the lad's response. now clark's bit, in those days, was supposed to be of fabulous depth; indeed, the master, using a common expression, said, 'you can't have fetched it up from the bottom, for there is no bottom to clark's bit.' john was unabashed by this charge of falsehood, and with honesty beaming in every feature of his face, he answered with untrembling tongue, as he handed the brush to the master, 'throw it in again. sir, and i'll fetch it up.' the master refused to test the lad's honesty at the risk of losing his brush. however, several witnesses came forward and declared they had seen him plunge into the water and bring up the brush. from that time john was famous in the neighbourhood, as a great diver. 'at the time of this occurrence,' he writes, 'a number of young gentlemen were being taught, at a school at castleford, by the rev. mr. barnes. they had plenty of money, and i had little enough, and they would often, for the sake of seeing me dive to the bottom of the "bit," throw in a shilling, and sometimes half-a-crown. to gratify them, and for the sake of money, i often dived to the bottom, and never, that i remember, without bringing up the money. i got at last that i would not go down for less than a shilling, and i have sometimes got as much as five shillings a day. i have dived to the bottom of clark's bit hundreds of times, and there are numbers of people at castleford, at the present day (1868), who recollect these youthful exploits, which took place upwards of forty years ago. and i may add that, i have often had the impression that but for that paint-brush i should never have been the diver i afterwards became. god overruled these foolish acts, for good, and what i did for mere pleasure and gain, prepared me to rescue property and human life in after years.' [sidenote: he dives into a sunken vessel.] we will mention one instance of his prowess in saving property, which is well worthy of being recorded. 'the barque "mulgrave castle," says the writer of the article in the _shipwrecked mariners' magazine_, 'laden with timber from the baltic, was waterlogged in the humber; there was in the cabin of the vessel a small box containing money and papers which the captain was anxious, if possible, to secure. ellerthorpe dived into the cabin, groped his way round it, and after two or three attempts succeeded in bringing up the box and its contents.' this was in the year 1835. the writer of this sketch received the fact from an eye witness. chapter vi. his method of rescuing the drowning. for acts of pure, unselfish daring, in rescuing human life, the annals of our friend need not shun comparison with those of any other man within her majesty's dominion. it appears that, amid his wicked and wayward career, he had a 'deep and unaccountable impression' that one part of his mission into the world was to save human life. beyond dispute, one of the best swimmers of his time, he was never, after his boyhood, satisfied with swimming as a mere art. it was naught to him if it did not help to make his fellow men better, safer, and braver. it will be seen that the first person he rescued from drowning _was his own father_, and that event ever afterwards nerved him to do his best to save his fellow-creatures. indeed the desire to rescue the drowning burnt in his soul with all the ardour of an absorbing passion. it was the spring of his ready thoughts; it controlled his feelings and guided his actions; it prompted him to face the greatest difficulties without the least fear, and when in the midst of the most threatening dangers, it enabled him to summon up a calmness and resolution that never failed. [sidenote: his experience in the water.] the writer in _the shipwrecked mariners' magazine_ says, 'ellerthorpe's exploits in saving life date from the year 1820, and from that time to the present it may be safely asserted that he has never _hesitated_ to risk his own life to save that of a fellow-creature. the danger incurred in jumping overboard to rescue a drowning person is very great. many expert swimmers shrink from it. ellerthorpe has encountered this risk under almost every variety of circumstance. he has followed the drowning, unseen in the darkness of the night, in the depth of winter, under rafts of timber, under vessels at anchor or in docks, from great heights, and often to the bottom in great depths of water, and what is very remarkable, never in vain. _fortuna fortes favet_ (fortune favours the brave), is an adage true in his case. he never risked his life to save another without success.' even to an experienced swimmer and diver, like our friend, the task of saving a drowning person is not easy, and the grip and grapple of some of those whom he rescued, had well nigh proved a fatal embrace, and it was only by the utmost coolness, skill, bravery, and self-control that he escaped. [sidenote: he carries the drowning in his arms.] but he shall tell _his own_ simple, noble tale. 'during the last forty-eight years i have done all that lay in my power to rescue my fellow-creatures, when in drowning circumstances. by night and by day, in darkness or in light, in winter or in summer, i was always ready to obey the summons when the cry, "a man overboard," fell on my ears. and i have had to rescue the drowning in widely different ways. sometimes i seized them tightly by the right arm, and then, hold them at arm's length, soon reached the land. in some instances they seized me by my shoulder or arm, when, leaving hold of them, and, throwing both my hands into the water, i managed to reach the shore. in other instances i found them so exhausted that they were incapable of taking hold of me, and in these cases, i had to carry them as a mother would carry her child. and in two or three instances, i thought they were dead, and, with feelings easier imagined than expressed, i bore them up in my arms; when suddenly, and with great strength, they sprang upon my head, and oftener than once, under these circumstances, i was on the point of being drowned. some of those whom i saved were much heavier and stronger than myself, and when they got hold of me i found it difficult, and sometimes impossible, to shake them off. when i rescued robert brown, the night was pitchy dark, and for some time i could not see him; and when i got to him he clutched me in such a manner as to prevent my swimming. when i seized the young woodman, i thought he was dead, but, after a few moments, he made a great spring at me, and clutched hold of my head in such a way as to prevent me swimming for some seconds. when pinioned closely, i generally adopted this plan, which proved to be the best under the circumstances:--i threw myself on my back and pushed the drowning person on before me, and in this way i managed to keep them up for a time, and with comparative ease to myself. i often said to persons in a drowning state, "now, hold fast by me, and don't exert yourself, and i'll make you all right." it was not often i could persuade them to act thus, but whenever they could, they got upon me; for "a drowning person will catch at a straw." i believe i have fetched out of the water not fewer than fifty drowning persons, and, with scarce an exception, they tried to seize me, and thus rendered their deliverance a matter of great difficulty. in fact, it would be comparatively easy to fetch a drowning man out of water if he would just take hold of one's arm, and thus keep himself from sinking, and let one tow him ashore. [sidenote: he searches for the drowning.] 'in many instances, as will be seen, i had to run a great distance, and when almost out of breath, i have plunged into the water, and in that state had to struggle with those on the point of drowning. i remember that, on one occasion, when staying at a public house in america, the landlord came running into the room, and cried out, "a man overboard." i ran 200 yards, and on reaching the spot i was out of breath, when in i plunged, but soon found i could not stay under the water for more than a few seconds. the water was clear and fresh, with long grass at the bottom; but alas! i could not find the young man, and he was drowned. i arrived too late to be of any service, for it was found afterwards that he had pulled himself on the bottom of the river with the long grass to a distance of fifty yards from the spot where he fell in. 'my first object, after i had plunged into the water, was to catch a sight of the drowning person, and if i could once do that, i always felt confident i should soon have him in my grasp. it is a most difficult thing to search for a drowning person, especially in muddy water. i had to make this attempt again and again, and sometimes the fear has crept over me that my exertions would be in vain, when i made the most prodigious and exhausting efforts. and that i have never failed, in a single instance, is to me a source of great gratitude to god, "in whose hand my breath is, and whose are all my ways."' [sidenote: an instance of his pluck.] 'i remember once i had my leg crushed between our packet and the pier, and for some days after i could not walk without the aid of crutches. one day i got down to the south end, but soon felt tired, and returned home; but after a short rest, i again went to the pier, when i was told that, during my short absence, a cabman, named sharpe, had fallen into the harbour and was drowned. i was filled with indescribable distress at the news, and said, "if i had been here i would have saved him, despite my broken leg. at least i would have tried." a man, who professed to be a great swimmer, was present, and he answered, "o, i can swim as well as you can," when my muscles began to quiver, and my blood to throb, and i replied, in no very good temper, i assure you. "i dispute that, unless you mean now that i have my broken leg. why did'nt you try to save him?" i always felt that i would much rather have the satisfaction of having tried to save a drowning person and fail, than have the miserable satisfaction of shaking my head and shrugging my shoulders and saying, "oh, i knew it would be of no use trying to save him; it was foolish to try." "i could have done it," never saved a drowning man. "i will try," has enabled me, under god, to save fifty of my fellow creatures. 'i do not wish to intimate that every man who sees a fellow creature drowning, ought to plunge into the water to rescue that person. indeed, i have seen two or three instances where men, who could not swim themselves, have jumped into the water to save the drowning, and in every instance the consequences have nearly been fatal. before a person makes such an attempt, he should have tested his own ability to swim. if he can float himself and believes he can save the drowning person, he ought to make the attempt, and god will help him. this is not mere theory, but what i have felt again and again. ever after my conversion to god, i used to pray, when plunging into the water, "lord help me," and knowing as i did, that prayer melts the heart and moves the arm of jehovah, i felt confident he would help me; and so he did; for i often, when in the water, felt a sweet consciousness that god was with me. he taught my hands to war with the waters, and my fingers to grasp my precious freight. when struggling with the boy woodman, these words came forcibly into my mind, and i repeated them in the water:- "when all thy mercies, o my god, my rising soul surveys, transported with the view, i'm lost in wonder, love, and praise." [sidenote: his grateful acknowledgment of god.] 'i always felt it my duty, after rescuing a drowning person, to go to the house of god at night, and return public thanks to the almighty. ministers in the town, and especially the wesleyan ministers, have often returned thanks to god from the pulpit, on the following sabbath. on the morning following the deliverance, i generally went to see the rescued person, and sought to improve the event by impressing their mind with the uncertainty of life and with the importance of being prepared for death. [sidenote: john's statement.] 'in the following list i have given, as far as my memory and knowledge enabled me, a true and faithful account of the persons whom i have rescued from drowning. extracts from newspapers, and letters from the parties themselves, and also from many who were eye-witnesses of their deliverance, have been freely used. there are several whom i have, at different times, saved from a watery grave, not included in this list, but as these events produced but little impression on my mind at the time of their occurrence, and as i am utterly unable to give either the names of the parties, or the time when i saved them, i can make no reliable mention of them at present, _though i hope_ to be able to do so at some future time. i sincerely believe, however, that if i had kept a strict account of all these deliverances, instead of having to record thirty-nine cases, i should have been able to have recorded upwards of fifty. i regret now that i did not keep such a record. every now and then i meet with persons who greet me as their deliverer. two young men have done so within the last four months. and very pleasant to my mind it is to meet a fellow creature whom i have been the means, in the hands of a wonder-working providence, of saving from a watery grave. but all the cases mentioned in the following chapter, except william earnshaw and captain clegg, have been signed by living witnesses, and most of them were reported in the local newspapers, at the time of their occurrence. many of these persons are still living; some of them i see almost daily, and _they_ can speak for themselves. if i have made a mistake in spelling their names, or in relating the time when, or the circumstances under which, i saved them, i shall be glad to be corrected. and if i have offered an unkind reflection on any of my fellow creatures, or recorded a boastful sentence respecting what my fellow townsmen have been pleased to call my "deeds of daring," i hope to be forgiven by god, whose i am and whom i serve. finally: as a large circle of my friends are anxious to have a true record of all the lives i have saved, i shall be highly pleased if any whom i have rescued, but whose names i have not recorded, will send me a few lines that may add to the interest of this little book, should a second edition be called for.' [illustration: signature of john ellerthorpe] chapter vii. his gallant and humane conduct in rescuing the drowning. _first._--john ellerthorpe.[1] (1820.) he was my father, and i was not more than fourteen years of age when i saved him. at the time he managed the ferry boat from hessle to barton. it required two persons to conduct the boat across the humber, and as it cost my father a shilling each time he employed a man to assist him across, he often took me with him instead of a man, and thus saved the shilling. one morning, he took mr. thompson, corn miller, to barton, and engaged to fetch him back at night; and there was this agreement between them, that my father was to receive the fare whether mr. t---returned or not. he did not return that night, though we waited for him until nine o'clock. the snow was then thick on the ground, the wind was blowing strong, and the waves were beginning to rise high in the humber, and i was sitting, half-asleep, at the corner of a comfortable hearth, before a bright fire, when my father called out, 'come, my boy, we'll be off.' we were soon in the boat, but had not got many yards, when my father fell overboard. i remember crying out most piteously, 'oh, my father is overboard,' when i instantly plunged into the water and soon had fast hold of him. he had sunk to the bottom, a depth of sixteen feet, for when he came up he was covered with mud. we came up close to the boat's side, and, making a tremendous spring, i got hold of the boat's gunnel, and after a few moments my father also got hold of it with both his hands. he was a heavy man, weighing about fifteen stones, and could not swim. i said to him, 'now, father, can you keep hold while i fetch the hull horse-boatmen?' whom we had left at the water-side house, when he replied, 'yes, but be very sharp, my lad.' i then swam to the house, and called out, 'my father is overboard;' and when i returned with the men, i was glad to hear him shout, 'i'm here.' john thrush, captain of the horse-boat, and luke dixon, soon got him into the boat, while mr. wood, the landlord, brought him a glass of brandy, which he drank. we could not persuade him to leave the boat, so we again started for home, and as a brisk wind was blowing at the time, in about fifteen minutes, we were safe in hessle harbour. my mother met us there, and i said, 'mother, my father has been overboard, fetch somebody to help him out of the boat.' he was stiff and cold, but with the aid of mr. wright we got him ashore. mr. w. brought him some mulled ale and a glass of rum, which i then thought very good. we then wrapped him in several thicknesses of warm clothing. i was much perished at the time, but soon felt all right. not long before this, my mother had given me a severe flogging for bathing so often; so i looked into her face and said, 'mother, i think you won't flog me for bathing again, will you?' to which she replied, 'oh, my lad, it was a good job that thou was there;'[2] when my father faintly added, 'yes, if he had not been there i should never have come to the top of the water.' and if he had he would have been drowned, for he could not swim a yard; and had he shouted, no one was near to render him assistance. but, thank god, i was there, and answered the end of a gracious providence, and that was enough. now, my father never liked to have this circumstance named, though i have often heard him say, 'that lad saved my life.' afterwards, my mother never liked him to cross the humber after dark, unless i was with him; so i often had to accompany him when i would much rather have been at a warm fireside, or asleep in bed. _witnesses_--john thrush, luke dixon. [footnote 1: those marked with a star distinguish the cases for which mr. ellerthorpe received the special medal of the royal humane society.] [footnote 2: john seems to have loved his mother with a tender, intense affection. in a letter dated october 14th, 1867, he says: 'it is fourteen years this day since my poor (but i trust now rich) mother was buried at hessle. the lord knows i was her darling son; but, alas! for many years i was no comfort to her. but years before her death christ washed me from my sins in his most precious blood, and now i entertain a hope of meeting her in heaven.'] _second._--william earnshaw.* (1820.) there were two brothers, robert and william, sons of mr. earnshaw, of hessle. they were about my own age, and, like myself, they were very fond of bathing. their mother used to blame me for taking them into the water so often; but it was less my fault than theirs, for they used to fetch me from school--and i have known them give the schoolmaster a shilling to let me go with them. one day, we went to bathe in the drain, and fearing our parents might see us, we went a long way up the bank and then began to swim; at length i heard some one call out 'william earnshaw is drowning!' i was then a hundred yards from him, but i hastened to the bank and ran as fast as i could, until i got opposite him, when i again plunged into the drain and swam to my young friend's rescue. his brother was weeping, and said, 'all is over with him,' and i thought so too. i could but just see the hair of his head, when i darted at him and gave him a great push, but he was too far gone to take hold of me, so i shoved him on and on, until his brother could reach him, when we put him on the bank and thought he was dead; but he soon began to breathe, and, after a while, came round. at that time i was in great disgrace with mrs. earnshaw, and afraid lest, if we told of william's narrow escape, she would never let us go together again, we vowed to keep the affair a profound secret. soon after this the two brothers were taken ill, and poor william died, and the doctor said this illness was brought on by their too frequent bathing. they didn't bathe half so often as i did, but it was evident their constitution could not bear the water so well as mine. mr. earnshaw was a rich man and very liberal, and, i believe, if he had known the real nature of the case, as i have described it, so far from blaming me, he would have rewarded me for what i did for his son. i kept the promise i made to william for upwards of forty years; but as mr. and mrs. earnshaw and their sons are dead, and as a large circle of my friends are wishful to have a list of the lives i have saved, i think i am not doing wrong in recording william's deliverance in this history of my life. _third._--robert pinchbeck.* (1822.) this case was very similar to the one i have just described. robert, who was about fifteen years old, was a companion and schoolfellow of mine, and was fond of imitating my exploits in the water. one day he told some boys that he could swim across hessle harbour; but, in making the attempt, he nearly lost his life. i was about forty yards ahead of him, when i heard some boys cry 'bob pinchbeck is drowning.' he had gone down thrice, and was quite exhausted when i got to him, and he was saved, as it were, by the skin of his teeth. i feared he might seize me, and, therefore, i did not take hold of him, but pushed him before until he reached the long grass on the harbour bank. he could not use his limbs, and i thought he was dead, but he soon revived a little. we took him to my father's house and sent for his mother and a doctor; but when they arrived, he was breathing nicely, and after a few hours, he walked home. his father, though vexed by his son's disaster, said to me, 'you must teach him to swim.' i tried hard to do so, but the water always frightened him, and he never made much out at swimming. a few years after this he died of the typhus fever, and i believe his soul went to heaven. _witnesses_--john campbell, francis pinchbeck. _fourth._--henry ibotson.* (1824.) henry, myself, and others had been bathing in hessle harbour, and i had just left the water and dressed, when a cry was raised, 'ibotson is drowning.' i sprang to him, when he seized me so tightly and closely, that we had a narrow escape from being drowned together. at length i got myself clear, and took him to the bank, amid the shouts and cheers of a great many spectators. we had great difficulty in walking home, and when we got there we had to be put to bed. mr. booth, gardener, of hessle, and who was the next person i rescued, says: 'you may have forgotten, but i well remember, that a few days previous to your saving my life, you saved the life of h. ibotson. it had well-nigh cost you your life, as he closed in upon you, and took you to the bottom.' a few days after henry came and thanked me most sincerely for what i had done, and wished me to teach him to swim. i began at once, and he soon got that he could swim across the drain; but it was a long time before he durst venture to swim across the harbour, in which he had so nearly been drowned.... now, i would ask, why did not some of these spectators render help in this time of need? could nothing have been done when they saw us sink together, again and again? within fifty yards there was a boat, with boat-hooks and staves, and could no use have been made of these, to lessen, the peril in which myself and the drowning youth were placed? i am convinced that great numbers of people are drowned through spectators not making a little effort at the time. _witnesses_--george twiddle, robert riplington. _fifth._--george booth. (1825.) he was bathing in the drain at hessle, when a large tide was being taken in, and he began to sink fast. i was at a great distance when the alarm was given, but i ran to his assistance, plunged into the water, and soon brought him safe to land. mr. booth's gratitude has given me the greatest satisfaction. i had not seen him for many years, and had forgotten the circumstance altogether, until i met him at the funeral of r. pease, esq., when he said, 'i'm glad to see you once more, mr. ellerthorpe. don't you remember when you leaped into the drain forty years ago, and saved my life?' and in a note i got from him, dated july 31st, 1867, he says, 'under the blessing of divine providence you were instrumental in saving my life. i was sixteen years of age, and in july, 1825, i was bathing in hessle drain, when a very large tide was being taken in. i shall ever have cause to thank you, as the instrument in god's hands, of saving me from a watery grave.'--george booth. _sixth._--robert clegg. (1825.) he was both owner and captain of the keel 'ann scarborough,' the vessel from which i lost the brush at clark's bit. he went one dark night to moreton, and as he did not return at the time expected, i felt very uneasy about him, and at last i went on the bank of the trent, in search of him. when i got near moreton-bite, i thought i heard a groan; and after a long search i found my captain, drunk, half in the water and half on the bank. the tide was half flood, and was then rapidly rising, and had it risen a foot and a half higher, he must have been drowned, as nothing could have saved him. i struggled with him for three quarters of an hour, and after great exertions, i got him fairly on the bank. we were then a mile and a half from our vessel, and did not get on board until three o'clock next morning. a doctor had to be got, and soon the captain began to recover. but the keel was delayed two days. he was afraid lest his wife should get to know the cause of this delay, and he bound me to keep the affair a profound secret. but he often said, afterwards, 'jack saved my life.' and i am quite sure i did, as no one came near us, and there was no other chance of his being rescued. i never allowed this case to be put in the list of those whom i have saved, but having given a true statement of the case, i think i shall be pardoned for giving it a permanent record here. _seventh._--name not known.* (1826.) [sidenote: the coachman.] he was a coachman, but his name i never knew. he was conducting some ladies on board the 'sir walter scott,' when, being drunk, he fell overboard, between the smack and the wharf, irongate, london. there were but seven feet depth of water, and i had to leap from a height of at least sixteen feet; but i succeeded in preserving him from what seemed certain death. he was covered with mud, but was soon washed, and got on some dry clothes. after i had changed my clothes, and drank a glass of whisky, i returned to the vessel, and the ladies and gentlemen gave me a thousand thanks. the captain's name was nisbet, and ever afterwards he would have given me almost anything; whenever i met him in london, he used to call the attention of his passengers to me, and tell them what i had done. many a time has he sent for me on board his vessel, and given me as much drink as i would take, and he used to say to the passengers, 'see! this young man jumped over our ship's rail, when there was not more than seven feet of water, and made a rope fast to a man when there was no other way of his being saved. if i had not seen it i could not have believed that any man could have done it.' he often said, 'whenever you want a berth come to me and i will give you one.' _witnesses_--thomas macha, richard boras. _eighth._--charles himsworth.* (1828.) at this time, himsworth and myself belonged to the brig 'jubilee,' of hull. we were bosom friends, and very fond of spreeing about, and spent much of our time when ashore in dancing parties and in ballrooms. whether at hull or in london, if we could but find a place where there was plenty of noise and a fiddle going, that was the place for us. we have often spent many days' hard earnings in a few hours, amid such scenes. on this occasion he fell from the bows of the 'jubilee' while a strong ebb tide was running. i jumped in after him, and we both went under a tier of vessels that were hung at the buoy, battle bridge, london. we came to the surface, but were soon carried under another tier of vessels, and had not the mate have come to our assistance we should have gone under a third tier, but he came at the last extremity and saved us. charles belonged to a very respectable family living at snaith, where i once called to see his mother, who was a widow. her son thomas and i became intimate friends, after i had rescued charles, and he often said he thought as much of me as he did of his own brother. alas! the two brothers met with untimely deaths. on the morning of january the 25th, 18--, i saw thomas put out to sea, and in about half an hour the boat capsized, and he and five other men were drowned. charles got married, and became master of a vessel, but alas! he and the crew were drowned. _witnesses_--william howarth, joseph johnson. _ninth._--john kent.* (1828.) he was a native of hull, and a shipmate of mine on board the 'westmoreland.' while in a state of intoxication he jumped overboard into the diamond harbour, quebec, intending to swim to land, but sank at a distance from the vessel. a boat, manned with foreigners, was passing at the time, and captain knill called to them to pick up kent. they pulled the boat towards him, but kent, in trying to lay hold of it, missed his grasp, and the next moment he was under the boat. the captain then called to us on the stage, and said, 'be sharp with your boat, or _the man_ will be drowned.' we did not then know who _the man_ was, but, with the quickness of true sailors, we were in the boat in a minute. by this time he had been carried to a great distance from the ship, as the ebb tide was running strong and fast. i was forward in the boat, and on reaching the spot where he was last seen, i plunged under the water, and in a moment i saw the man, and was surprised to find it was my friend, john kent. i dived to a depth of twenty-five feet, and had him right above me; i soon had hold of him, and though i had to swim against the ebb tide, we were soon at the boat's side, when i said to the men, 'never mind me, pull him into the boat,' but he had such fast hold of my arm that they had to pull us in together, and even then it was with great difficulty they broke his hold of me. he was so far gone that for a long time we did not know whether he was living or dead. at length he showed signs of life, but recovered slowly, and did not work for several days. after twenty-five years' separation, i met kent in the streets of hull, and he remembered, with every mark of gratitude, his wonderful deliverance. my arm was much bruised, and almost as black as a coal. i could not lift it as high as my head, and i said to the captain, 'i am afraid i shall not be able to work to-day,' when he kindly said, 'never mind the work, surely thou's done enough for one day; take care of thy arm,' and he gave me something with which to rub it. it remained stiff for a long time, and gave me great pain. i hope to be pardoned for adding that, i was a great favourite with captain knill, and spent many hours with him ashore when i ought to have been aboard taking in timber. he was a kind man and a good captain, and often, after my drunken sprees, he would call me down to the cabin and there talk to me as a father would talk to his son. and these friendly counsels produced a deep impression upon my mind, and did me far more good than a 'blowing up' would have done. through respect for him, i used to guard against drink, but alas! i was often overcome. i cherish an undying respect for the memory of my dear captain knill. _witnesses_--captain j. knill, john hickson. _tenth._--george williams.* (1830.) he was a sailor on board the ship 'rankin,' belonging, i think, to gilmore and rankin. he fell overboard with a timber chain round his neck, and went under a raft of timber. some men saw him fall overboard, and called for me. i ran as fast as i could, and had to step from one piece of floating timber to another; however, i soon reached him, and brought him up with the chain round his neck. he was completely exhausted, and it was half an hour before he could walk. this man's captain sent for me to give me some money for rescuing one of his crew; but fearing he might stop the sum out of the man's wages, i refused to go; for i did not want anything for what i had done. he was offended, and when ashore told captain knill of my refusal. so to please my captain, i went on board the 'rankin,' when the captain shook hands with me, and said, 'captain knill tells me you won't take any money for saving one of my crew. i think you ought. had you saved my life i would have given you twenty pounds, and i think you ought to take a sovereign for what you have done. now take it, and i will make him pay me back.' he then sent for the man, who looked wretched and seemed to think i had gone for money; and when his captain said, 'now, what are you going to give this man for saving your life,' he replied, 'i have nothing to give him.' i didn't want the poor man's money, nor would i have taken any if he had had his pockets full. i then went forward to the crew, when the captain sent us what sailors call 'a mess pot.' i drank a great deal of rum that night, for i had to sup first with one and then with another, and each drank to my good health, and when i left they gave me a good hearty 'english cheer'--such a cheer as only 'jolly sailors' can give. captain knill was pleased that i had been so firm in refusing to take any money from the poor man, and it was enough for me that _he_ was pleased. and i can declare, most solemnly, that hitherto i have not received so much as a halfpenny from any of those whom i have saved. i have got many a glass of grog, but never any money. _witnesses_--captain j. knill, john hickson. _eleventh._--mary ann day.* (1833.) she was a little girl, a native of ulceby, in lincolnshire, and fell from the 'magna charter' steamer into new holland harbour. i sprang in after her while the paddle-wheels of the steamer were in motion, and brought her ashore, though at a great risk of losing my own life. the noise of the paddle-wheels, the screams of the girl's mother, and the confusion and shouts of the passengers, made this a very exciting scene, but it was very soon over, and the little girl, having got some dry clothes on, her mother brought her to me, and said to her, 'now what will you give this gentleman for saving your life?' when she held out her little chin and, with a full heart, said, 'a _kiss_.' she gave me a kiss, and o, what a kiss it was. i felt myself well paid for my trouble; indeed, i made the remark at the time, that i was never better satisfied than when that child kissed me. 'it is said that cicero had two courtiers on whom he wished to bestow favours. to one he gave a golden cup, and to the other a kiss. but the one that got the cup was very dissatisfied. he said, 'in the kiss i see something more than the cup, though that is valuable, but in the kiss there is affection, and it betokens better things.' and i am sure i felt a greater sense of delight, and higher satisfaction at the moment when that grateful child kissed me, than i did when my fellow townsmen, with their wonted generosity, presented me with one hundred and thirty guineas, and other mementoes of my doings; all of which i prize most highly, and which i trust will be preserved as heirlooms in my family, as long as the name of ellerthorpe shall continue. i have been told that this girl is married and has a large family, and that she is now living between beverly and hull. whether this is true i cannot say, but i know she has never paid me a visit, which i think she might have done, supposing the above statement to be correct. should this meet her eye, it may refresh her memory, and i assure her she would meet with a hearty welcome from her former deliverer, now living at the humber dock-gate, hull. _witness_--captain oswald james teny. _twelfth._--henrich jenson.* (1833.) he was a foreigner, about forty years of age, and fell into the humber dock basin, one dark night, in the month of november. i was walking on the dock side at the time, when i heard a splash in the water, and in less time than it takes to write these few lines, i plunged in after him, and found him in a drowning state; i seized him, and with the assistance of some bystanders, soon had him safe on land. he rapidly recovered and i heard no more of him for years, when a man, a foreigner, called at my house and gave me the man's name and thanked me for saving his life. he said, 'if ever jenson comes to hull again, you may rest assured he will call and see you, and give you personal thanks.' i said i should be glad to see him, but that i should not take anything from him for the little service i had done him. this case was fully reported in the local papers at the time, and gave rise to a great deal of talk in the town of hull, and its vicinity, as many well remember. john barkworth, esq., timber merchant, of hull (who had known me from a boy), in company with some other gentlemen, met me one day, and said, 'well john, you have saved another man,' and turning to those with him, he said, 'here is a man that never stops, whatever kind of weather blows, but in he plunges and fetches the drowning person out. look at his last case! on a dark cold night in november, he hears a splash, and in he goes and saves a man. gentlemen, the town ought to do something handsome for him.' he gave me half-a-crown, and each of the other gentlemen gave me the same sum. as these gentlemen had plenty of money, and as none of them had any connection with the man i had saved, i accepted their gifts, and felt pleased that my services had been acknowledged in the manner i have described. _witness_--james smith. _thirteenth._--ashley taylor.* (1833.) he was seventy-five years of age, and fell from the landing place of the grimsby packet, opposite ----street, hull. at that time i belonged to the new holland steamer, and having lost my tide at four o'clock, p.m., i went down to meet the packet which arrived at seven o'clock at night. mr. r. curtis, mr. lundie, and myself, were walking near where the boat was expected to land, when we heard a great splash in the water, but could not see anything. we ran to the corner of pier-street, and there we saw something in the water, but nothing stirred. at length mr. lundie said, 'i believe it is a man overboard.' i then looked more closely, and sure enough it was a man. he had on one of those old fashioned great coats, with three or four capes, and which were worn by gentlemen's coachmen and boots, forty years ago; and as the capes were blowing about in all directions, it was with great difficulty i found his head. i had to turn him up and down, to the right and left, topsy-turvey, before i could get his head clear. i took him to the 'piles,' and held him there, until a young man, who now drives a cab in hull, came to our assistance with a boat. we took the old man to the humber dock watch-house, and sent for dr. buchan, who used the royal humane society's apparatus, and also gave the old man a steam or vapour bath. i stayed with him in my wet clothes till he spoke, and then i went home and got on some dry raiment. during my absence, they took this old man to mr. hudson's lodging house, in humber-street. the night was cold, and the old man had had a warm bath, and to expose him to the night air under such circumstances was enough to kill him. when i arrived from new holland, at nine o'clock next morning, a person met me and said, 'the old man is dead.' _witnesses_--richard curtis, richard lundie. _fourteenth._--richard chapman.* (1834.) unlike the last case, richard was a fine boy, only seven years old: he was the son of the late mr. chapman, pilot, and also brother of mr. chapman, painter, of hull. he fell into the water from the hull dock pier. at the time, i was on the deck of my packet, smoking a pipe, when i heard some one call out, 'a boy overboard.' i sprang from the deck, ran to the spot, plunged into the water, and in a few moments i had the boy safe ashore. i then hastened home, got on some dry clothes, and in less than half an hour i had started with the packet for new holland. when i returned, mr. chapman met me and said, 'john, was it you who saved my boy?' 'i can't say, but i know i saved somebody's boy, is he yours?' i replied. 'yes,' said the rejoicing father, 'i'm glad you were there, what am i in your debt?' 'nothing, mr. chapman. i am as pleased as you are, and you are quite welcome to what i have done,' was my reply. he then said, 'come in here and have something to drink,' when we went to the minerva hotel. mr. chapman pulled a handful of sovereigns from his purse and said, 'now do take something for saving my boy,' but i again refused, though i believe to this day he would gladly have given me â£10 if i would have taken that sum; but i never did take anything from anyone whom i have rescued, though often urged to do so. i think it was on this occasion that i received â£1 from the hull royal humane society. mr. collinson, a gentleman, was on the pier when i saved master chapman, and he came and asked me what was my name, to what ship i belonged, where i lived, &c. soon after, i was called by some gentlemen into the minerva hotel, where dr. wallis shook me by the hand and said, 'i have often heard of you, and it gives me great pleasure to see your face and hear your voice.' he gave me a note to take to the trinity house for â£1, which i got, and another which i took to watson and harrison's bank, where i got another sovereign. i felt pleased with these acknowledgments of my services, and oftener than once after this i was sent to the same places, and got â£1 each time, after i had rescued a human life. the funds of the trinity house were soon exhausted, and several gentlemen requested me to prepare a list of the persons i had saved from drowning at hull, new holland, barton, and hessle, and to get it signed by living witnesses. the persons saved by me, for which i had received no public acknowledgment, numbered five, and they gave me â£5. altogether i have received eleven sovereigns from the hull humane society for those i rescued in the humber, and at hull. _witnesses_--william collinson, thomas spence. _fifteenth._--robert leeson.* (1834.) he was a young gentleman returning from a musical festival, at york. he fell into new holland harbour; some said he was in a state of intoxication. i swam to his assistance and soon saved him. he was very ill, and i believe a doctor was fetched from barrow. when i returned, next morning, he had gone, but had left me _sixpence_ with which to get a glass of rum, which i hastily swallowed. my captain was provoked by (what _he_ thought) this man's niggardly gift, and said, 'john, why did you drink it? i would have given you a glass of rum without your being indebted to him.' i am told that this gentleman is often in hull; if he is, i am sorry he has never had gratitude enough to give me a call. i saved his life and he must know it. i may add that a man who could not swim, jumped overboard to rescue this gentleman, and i had almost as much trouble in saving him as i had in saving leeson. _witnesses_--james oswald, james sorry. _sixteenth._--joseph crabtree. (1834.) at this time i belonged to the 'magna charter' steamer, and was watchman for the night. when i went on board i was not quite sober, and i lay down on the forecastle. after a while i thought i heard something fall overboard, when i ran on to the deck, but could not see anything. i listened with bated breath, but not a sound could i hear; at length i shouted, but there was no answer. a plank had been put from the 'ann scarborough,' into our 'taffelrail,' and as this plank had fallen down, i thought it was its fall i had heard and nothing else. i got a boat hook and pulled the plank on board our vessel. but after a few moments i thought i heard something stir, and on taking a light i saw crabtree, who was engineer of the 'ann scarborough,' stuck in the mud, for the vessels were dry. i put down a ladder and went to help him, but he was so fast in the mud that i could do nothing with him. so i ran to lawson's tap-room and got, i think, robert hollowman and two other men, to help to get c. out of the mud. he was dead drunk, but we soon got him ashore, gave him some brandy, and he was very little worse. the case was kept a profound secret at the time, and for this reason--crabtree was afraid that if his master should get to know of the affair, he would lose his situation, and as we all thought the same, we promised not to tell any one of it. _seventeenth._--wilson.* (1835.) this boy fell into the humber dock basin, and sank between the 'calder' steamer and the wall. it was about three o'clock one sabbath afternoon, and hundreds of people were passing to and fro in search of pleasure. i was one hundred yards from the boy when the alarm was given, but i ran as fast as i could, and when i got to the spot, i found great difficulty in getting near because of the press of the people who were anxious to see the drowning youth. some one said, 'he went down just here,' and in i went, but i had a task to find him because of the thickness of the water. at last i saw him, and brought him up on one side of the packet, and caught hold of the paddle-wheels, when the people, who crowded the deck, rushed to see us, and gave the packet such a 'lurch over' that we were again dipped overhead in the water. i was never nearer being drowned than at this moment; but 'mercy to my rescue flew,' for the captain, who had been asleep in the cabin, rushed on deck, and seeing our peril, called out, 'you are drowning them,' and got them to stand on the other side of the vessel, which lifted us right out of the water. a man then came into the paddle-wheel and took us both out. i was then completely exhausted and quite insensible. when i came to myself i was in the watch-house of the humber dock company, and a doctor was watching over me and administering suitable medical treatment. i cannot tell how long i was in this state, but i had all my clothes pulled or cut off, and i was dangerously ill for several days. the boy was thought to be worse than i was, and in his case they used the royal humane society's apparatus for restoring animation to drowning persons. he soon recovered, but who he was or where he came from i never knew. i remember the doctor told me his name was wilson. this was regarded by the public as an act of great skill and bravery, and was much talked of at the time. mrs. daniel sykes sent me, through the medium of the editor of the rockingham newspaper, â£1 10s., and i think one of the clubs subscribed _threepence_. _witnesses_--isaac johnson, s. bromley. _eighteenth._--sarah harland.* (1835.) mrs. h. was a person of great strength and bulk of frame, weighing fourteen stones; she fell from the pier into the water. our packet had just arrived from new holland, and i was forward making the ... rope fast, when our engineer called out 'jack, jack, there is a woman overboard.' he ran aft as fast as he could, and when he got there, he saw me overboard. he often used to say, 'i don't know how that little fellow got past me, for i ran as fast as i could, and yet when i got there he was overboard.' i seized this woman with a firm grip, and bore her to the pier, amid the applause of crowds of people who witnessed the whole occurrence. some of them said i swam as fast with this big woman in my arms as i did when i went towards her; this i think was impossible, seeing i was but a little man, and that she was such a big heavy woman. isaac whittaker, esq., who saw me rescue her, gave me half-a-crown to get some grog with. but what pleased me far better was, the gratitude of mrs. h. she resided, if i remember rightly, in blanket row, and on going to see her, next morning, i found her ill in bed. she seemed full of gratitude, and that gave me great pleasure. i have often seen her since, and she always acknowledges me as saving her life. _witness_--robert todd. _nineteenth._--robert brown.* (1835.) he was a sailor, from north shields, and fell overboard, near the victoria hotel, hull, while on watch. it was the first night of dacrow's circus appearing in hull, and brown's mates had gone ashore, either to see the performance inside, or to hear the music in the streets. i was watchman that night on board the 'magna charter' steamer. a heavy gale was blowing from the north, accompanied with sleet storms. while closing the cabin door for the night, i heard a splash, and running aft, i called out, 'is anyone overboard?' but there was no answer, for the pier was deserted, the people having thronged to the circus. i could not see anything; but at last i thought i heard a voice, and plunging into the water, i soon found poor brown; indeed he seized me before i was aware of him, and got upon me in such a way that i could not swim, and, i must confess, i was in a great passion. at length i got one arm at liberty, and made for the shore. i turned round and round a great many times, and, at last, after a desperate struggle, which i shall never forget, we reached the steps at the end of the pier. brown took hold of the rail, walked up the steps, and seemed as if he didn't care about me; i was quite exhausted, and had to hold by the railings for several minutes before i could recover my breath. i then sat down on one of the steps and felt very ill, and i thought i should have died on the spot. i remember seeing the lights, and hearing the music from the shore, but there was no one near to render me any help. bye-and-bye i recovered a little and _crept_ to the top of the steps, where i found poor brown, crying most piteously. two men, joseph crabtree and john young, came from lawson's tap-room, and i asked them to get some drink for the youth, who was in a distressing state, and i would pay for it. they then took him to mr. lawson's, while i tried to make my way home; but scarcely had i started, when a great trouble stared me in the face, it was this: around the circus were thousands of people, and i thought,--what shall i do? i cannot get through that crowd, and if i once fall, i shall never get up again, and i felt that i had not strength to walk round the other way, and i didn't know what to do. however, i had not gone far when, who should i meet, but joseph spyby, our engineer. i said, 'o joe, do help me home, do; i have been overboard saving a young man, and i can scarcely stand. i feel very bad.' he replied, 'yes, thou has to be drowned, and the sooner the better. there never was such a fool as thou art. does thou think anybody but theeself would jump overboard a night like this? no! there is not another such a fool in england!' now, joe was a kind-hearted, humane man, and the first to help a poor fellow in distress; but such was the way in which he expressed himself as he helped me along the street that terrible night. he took hold of me and got me through the crowd as well as he could. we went to the humber tavern, where i got a glass of brandy, and then spyby took me home. i got a change of raiment and a little rest, and strange to say, i soon felt well again. for this case i received the royal humane society's silver medal, with their thanks on vellum. the case created considerable excitement in hull, and the late mr. loft (father of our late mayor), offered to become one of twelve persons to allow me â£2 per week to walk round the pier and docks, so as to be ready to rescue any who might fall into the water. _witness_--robert todd. _twentieth._--robert tether. (1836.) this young man, who is at present second engineer of the steam-ship, 'dido,' belonging to wilson and sons, hull, shall describe his own deliverance. he thus writes:--'about thirty years ago, and when i was about ten years of age, i was on board of a vessel whilst being launched from a ship-yard on the humber bank. by some means or other a check rope belonging to the vessel broke, and dragged me into the water. there was no means of my being saved but by the noble "hero," who immediately jumped into the water, with all his clothes on, and brought me to the shore, which was done at a great risk of his own life. i remember, also, that there was immense shouting and cheering, and that a band of musicians who had been playing at the 'launch,' when they saw mr. ellerthorpe bearing me ashore, began playing, "see the conquering hero comes."--robert tether, july 24th, 1867.' _twenty-first and twenty-second._--george emerson* and ann wise* (1836.) emerson, a porter, was conducting miss wise, from the 'magna charter,' over a plank, when the plank slipped, and both were precipitated into the water. the wind was blowing very strong, and the river was extremely rough at the time. i had just gone into the cabin to change my clothes, when, hearing such a screaming as i had never before heard, i sprang upon the paddle-box, and saw emerson, but knew nothing of the woman who had also fallen into the water, and whose mother was uttering the most heart-rending shrieks. i leaped from the paddle-box to save the man, when, to my surprise, i found i had thrown my legs right _across the woman's shoulders_! of course my _first object_ now, was to save _her_. i hastily dragged her to the side of the packet, and having put her hand round a piece of iron, i said to her, 'now hold fast there, for you are safe.' i then went to a distance in search of emerson, and having made a rope fast round him, i was able to hold him up with ease. but the shouting was as great as ever, and i thought,--surely there is some one else overboard! the fact was, the people could not see the woman holding by the iron, and in my efforts to save the man, they thought i had forgotten her; hence their wild shouts. the engineer came to the vessel's side and shouted, 'there is the woman yet,' when i replied, 'she's all right, come down to the paddle and take hold of her.' he came and took her out, when she had a basket on her arm and a pair of pattens in her hand, just as when she dropped into the water. she suddenly disappeared from the crowd, and i heard no more of her for seven years. mr. g. lee, editor of the 'rockingham, advertised the case in his paper for several weeks, asking the woman, from sheer gratitude, to let him know her name; but there was no response. when i was master of the 'ann scarborough,' sailing between barton and hessle, i had to fetch (one sunday afternoon) a gentleman's carriage from barton to hessle. we had scarcely started, when a young woman, who was a passenger, said to me, 'you don't know me, sir, but i know you.' 'and for what do you know me, something good or bad?' 'o good, sir; don't you remember jumping overboard and saving my life, at hull? i shall never forget you, and i have come here on purpose to thank you.' i then told her how we had advertised for her name, but could never hear a word of her, when she said, 'my mother and i were strangers in hull, and as soon as i had got some dry clothes on, we had to start by coach, for bridlington.' this woman's brother was gardener for mr. graborn, solicitor, barton, and we afterwards became very intimate friends. i have not heard from ann wise for many years, but if she is yet living in any part of england, it would gladden my heart to have one more acknowledgment from her. in relating this case at temperance meetings, i have sometimes created a little mirth, by remarking, 'i went in search of a man, and lo! and behold, i found a woman.' _witness_--robert todd. _twenty-third._--john bailey.* (1836.) he was fourteen years of age, and while playing at the hull ferry-boat dock, he fell overboard and had a very narrow escape from being drowned. when i first heard the cry, 'a boy overboard,' i was near the minerva hotel, and i at once ran to the scene of the disaster. he had been down twice, when i got there, but in a few moments i had hold of him, and brought him ashore, amid the cheers and shouts of hundreds of spectators. i narrowly escaped being drowned. bailey is now a labouring man in hull, and i believe the father of a large family. i often meet him, and he always seems glad to see me. i may here ask, was it not strange that amongst the hundreds of people who saw this drowning youth, not one was found to render him the least assistance? i do not write boastingly when i say this:--if i could run from the minerva hotel to the pier, and save this youth, after he had sank in the water twice, surely those who were near him at the moment when he fell in, might have rendered him some assistance? indeed some present said, 'we could have swam to him if we had tried.' then i would ask, 'why didn't they make a venture?' the conduct of these spectators i regard as being monstrous and unmanly. englishmen are generally thought to have a fair share of personal courage, but it is nevertheless a fact, that scores of them watched the struggles of this drowning youth, _but took care to watch them only from the shore_. can we wonder that hundreds are drowned every year along our coasts, if people act as these spectators did. _witnesses_--joseph crabtree, john young. _twenty-fourth._--richard lison.* (1836.) he was a boy, seven years of age, and fell into the junction dock, hull. when the alarm was given, i was at the other side of the present ... dock, a great distance from where the boy was, but i ran with all speed over the bridge, and when i got to the drowning child, i found he had sunk the third time, and i thought, o, what shall i do? i went in search of him; i dived here, and i dived there, and at length i found him. a cry of joy was raised by the spectators when they saw me fetch him from a great depth, and then carry him towards the shore, on reaching which, some of them received him, and took him to his mother. i heard no more of him until he had grown to manhood; since then he has manifested the warmest gratitude, and treated me with the utmost kindness and respect. for years he was in the employ of the hull dock company; i had many opportunities of watching his conduct, and always found him a faithful and trusty servant, doing his duty as well in his master's absence as in his presence. this made me think much of him, and i always felt a deep interest in his welfare. he is now in the employ of martin, samuelson and co., hull. _witness_--john lundie. _twenty-fifth._--george rickerby.* (1836.) he was a youth, and while playing on the east pier, hull, he fell overboard. i ran a great distance, and in an almost breathless state leaped from a height of fourteen feet, into seven feet depth of water. i had scarcely touched the water, when he clutched me firmly, and dragged me down, again and again, but i was eager to rescue him, and, thank god, i succeeded. he had fallen upon one of the buoys, and cut his head, which bled profusely, and before i got him ashore i thought he was dead. he continued to bleed for some time, and a doctor was sent for. there was great cheering by the spectators as they saw me bearing through the waters, this bleeding, but still living youth, and some ladies and gentlemen, who had been watching me from the minerva hotel, threw out of the window, several shillings and half-crown pieces. if my memory serves me rightly, i got â£1 10s. i thought myself handsomely rewarded; but what pleased me more was the gratitude of the boy's mother; for i have always considered gratitude the richest reward i could receive: more than grateful thanks for what i had done, this poor woman would have found it difficult to have given me, but most grateful she was, and i felt both satisfied and delighted. but let me explain: on going to see the boy, next morning, i found him very ill in bed, and his mother, thinking i had gone for something for saving her child's life, said, 'i have no money to give you, sir, but my husband's half-pay will be due in a few days, and i'm sure you shall have half of it.' i replied, 'i'm sure i have not come for anything you have, my good woman, for i never take money from those i save, or from their relatives.' she seemed overwhelmed with grateful feelings, and i had some difficulty in persuading her that i did not want money, and that i would not take it if offered me, and i believe, to this day, that if i had said to her, 'you must give me your eight-days' clock and your chest of drawers,' she would willingly have given them to me there and then. _witness._--richard curtis. _twenty-sixth._--miss hill. (1836.) this young woman, when landing at new holland, ran down the plank, when her foot slipped and she fell into the water, at the low side of the jetty. i sprang to her assistance, but she was fast among some pieces of timber. we were both in great peril, the tide was coming in, and had it reached a foot higher, we should both have been drowned. we were so placed as to be compelled to dive under water before we could reach the shore. i told her that there was no other way of our being saved, and that the attempt must be made at once, and without waiting for her consent, i grasped her in my arm, and under the water we went. the people thought we should have been drowned, but we soon got clear of the jetty; some threw us one thing and some another; at length james nicholson got into a boat, took us in, and landed us safe ashore. i went to a public house, where i got a glass of brandy, and borrowed the ostler's clothes, and i ailed nothing afterwards. the young woman remained at new holland all night, and took her departure next morning, without leaving behind her even a single expression of verbal gratitude for what i had done for her. for some time it was reported that she was the daughter of sir rowland hill, post-master general, but i wrote to that knight, and found that she did not belong to his family. she made a fine appearance and was well dressed, but when i think of the shabby way in which she left the scene of her distress, i can't call her a lady. i am devoutly grateful that i was the means of saving her, but the case would not have been made thus prominent, had not several gentlemen of hull, who were present on the occasion, refused to let the case slip. _witnesses_--robert todd, captain thomas oswell. _twenty-seventh._--hannah webster.* (1837.) this i regard as a most wonderful deliverance. some said she fell, others that she jumped, from the barton horse-boat into the ferry-boat dock, hull. thomas spencer, who was working at what was then called 'the knock-em-down jetty,' saw the woman drop into the water, and called out, 'a woman overboard.' i hastened to her and soon got her ashore, when she was completely exhausted, and we sent for a doctor. a gentleman came to me and said 'did you fetch yon woman out of the water?' 'yes, sir,' was my reply, when he made this strange and unaccountable remark--'if you had let her stop in i would have given you half-a-crown, but as it is, i shall not give you anything.' 'thank you, sir, but i'm glad she's out, notwithstanding; and i would rather save that woman than i would have all the half-crowns in hull,' was my indignant reply. i never stood to ask whether a drowning person was rich or poor, friend or foe, drunk or sober. if a person was overboard i did my best to rescue that person from drowning. we took this poor, despised woman to a house in humber-street, and i gave my word that all expenses should be paid. she lodged in mill-street, and was a widow, thirty seven years of age, and had two children. i went to see her next morning, but she had gone, so i had all expenses to pay. i have always thought this woman was one of those poor, unfortunate, and despairing ones, so touchingly described by hood:- 'mad from life's history, glad to death's mystery swift to be hurled, anywhere, anywhere, out of the world.' _witnesses_--william taylor, george horsefield. _twenty-eighth._--miss ellgard.* (1837.) this young woman, who, there is reason to suspect, was a similar character to mrs. webster, fell from mcdonald's wharf, into toronto bay, america. i had in charge at this time a vessel belonging to mr. garsides, and when walking down to the wharf, one cold night, in the month of october, i heard a heavy splash in the water, and the next moment a loud scream. i ran to the place and saw this woman struggling in the water. she was very difficult to get at, but at last i caught hold of her, and soon landed her on the wharf. a man was waiting to receive her, and they instantly walked off. a few days after, however, she called at mr. baker's, 'black swan' inn and asked for me, and on going to the door she told me that i had saved her life, and that she was twenty-nine years of age. now there had been some strange reports about her and the man who met her; indeed it was commonly believed, in toronto, that he had pushed her overboard. but she said, 'the report is false. i _fell_ overboard.' she thanked me very kindly; i urged her to tell me her name, which she did, after i had promised not to tell anyone; this made me suspect that there was something wrong in connection with her being overboard. she urged me to accept some money, but i would not for i am sure her gratitude amply satisfied me for what i had done for her. _witnesses_--thomas thomas, john baker. _twenty-ninth._--jane gough.* (1843.) when seven years old, she fell into hessle harbour; her mother gave the alarm, and in a few moments i was in the water and saved her. i remember but little about _this case_, but the girl's father often says, when referring to myself, 'that man saved my child's life twice, and the second time was as good as the the first.' i will explain the second case. miss gough, many years after her deliverance, married mr. shaw, a captain, and together they have brought up a family of children, in respectable circumstances. mrs. shaw knew me well, but i had not seen her for many years, when this strange event took place:--i was captain of the dock company's steamer, and on going one dark night into the victoria dock, i found a deep timber-laden vessel, with her stem upon the bank and her stern in the channel, and she was rapidly filling with water. i at once went to her assistance, and having fastened a strong rope to her, and then to my packet, i tried, first in one way and then in another, to pull her off, but she seemed immoveable; and i began to fear i should not accomplish my object. but i always believed in that little catch, 'have you not succeeded yet? try, try again.' and _we did_ try again; and after trying many ways but in vain, we put the tow-rope on board, and running our packet at full speed, off the vessel came. all this time there was no person on board except the captain's wife and her children. so i put them ashore, and went on board the vessel myself, and let go the anchor. now, i did not know who the woman was until she offered me a sum of money, for what i had done. i told her i did not want aught, and that she was heartily welcome to the timely service i had rendered her. she then said--and i shall never forget it--'mr. ellerthorpe, you don't seem to know who i am?' i said, 'no, i don't;' when, to my surprise, she answered, 'i am that little girl, jane gough, whom you saved from drowning in hessle harbour.' my feelings were indescribably pleasant and joyous. _witnesses_--jane shaw, john gough. _thirtieth._--william turner. (1844.) this deliverance took place one dark night, when we were rounding flambro head, and while a strong wind was blowing and a heavy sea rolling. turner, while doing something at the main sheet, fell over the vessel's side. i caught him, and got him on board, with a quickness that has always surprised me. mr. turner, who is at present foreman of the humber dock company, wharfage department, thus writes:--'i am one of the persons whom mr. ellerthorpe has saved from a watery grave. in the year 1844, and during a voyage from scarborough to hull, in the yacht, "gossamer," i fell overboard while crossing burlington bay. he sprang to my assistance and saved me, otherwise i should have been drowned. i remember also, when coming over the humber dock bridge, one night, about nine o'clock, i saw an old lady fall from a height of about twenty feet, into the lock-pit. soon after i heard a tremendous splash, and to my surprise, i found it was "our hero," who had plunged his carcase into the lock to rescue the old lady from her perilous position, which he did manfully. i also saw him rescue john eaby. in the great and terrible struggle which took place in the water, mr. ellerthorpe bore up with the greatest coolness imaginable, although at a great risk of losing his life.--william turner.' _thirty-first._--john ellerthorpe. (1846.) he was my son, and first-born child. mr. g. lee, the gentleman who first gave me employment in connection with the hull dock company, had engaged me to teach his son the art of swimming. we went to the stone ferry baths, for that purpose, and wishful that my own sons should learn this invaluable art, i took john with us. when we got to the baths, i found the water was too warm to bathe in, so mr. lee and myself went into one of the adjoining rooms and had a long conversation about swimming, while the two boys were left behind. at length i went to test the temperature of the water, it was remarkably clear, and, to my horror, i saw my son prostrate at the bottom of the bath! my feelings can be better imagined than described. instantly, and without either throwing off a single garment or putting my watch from my pocket, i plunged into the bath and brought him up. he was full of water, and frothed at the mouth, and was very ill for a long time after. _witness_--mr. g. b. lee, jun. _thirty-second._--thomas robinson.* (1846.) he belonged to a schooner, lying in the junction dock, hull. i was walking near the dock, when i saw a great many people running from every direction, and was soon told that a man had fallen overboard. i ran to the spot, and for some time i could not ascertain the nature of the case. at length the captain of the schooner, said, 'he went down close to the vessel, and has been seen twice.' instantly i dived to the bottom of the dock, but could not see him. i swam to and fro for some time, and at last saw him under the vessel; he seemed quite dead, but i seized him and brought him up. they were busy with the grappling irons, but as he was under the vessel, the probability is he would never have been got out of the water alive. i went home and got some dry clothes on, and when i returned and inquired how he was, i was told he rapidly recovered. i have never seen this young man, or heard a word of him from that day to the present. he was a sailor, and may have been in hull since then, but if he has, he never made himself known to me. _witnesses_--john moody, john kidd. _thirty-third._--watson.* (1846.) while going on the humber bank, to hessle, i passed some youths who were bathing, but took little or no notice of them until i had got about 300 yards past them, when i saw some men running from a field close by, and heard a youth call out, 'a boy is drowning.' i ran back, and swam to the lad, and soon brought him out and laid him on the bank. i drank a glass of grog and smoked a pipe, and then returned to hull, for a change of raiment. i caught a severe cold on this occasion, for i had got half way to hessle when i saved this boy, and had on my wet clothes for nearly three hours. i have never, that i am aware of, seen that boy since. nor am i quite certain about his name; some one said they called him watson; but a man who saw me save him told me he would let me know the boy's right name, but he never did. somebody disputed my saving the lad, so i got a paper signed by a man who witnessed the whole affair, and whose name was johnson. _witness_--mr. johnson. _thirty-fourth._--samuel davis. (nov. 6, 1850.) he was employed on board a 'mud tug' that was used for removing mud from hull harbour into the humber. i saw this tug in a sinking state, and called out to the men to escape from her at once. all left her and got into a boat, except davis; he was rather lame, but had time enough to make his escape as well as the rest. the men had not left the 'tug' more than five minutes, when she capsized, and davis was thrown into the water. i was on board a 'tow boat' at the time, and between the drowning man and myself, there lay three heavily-loaded ballast lighters. i turned my steamer astern, and by jumping from one lighter to another, i soon reached davis. i felt confident i could save him, and having a mud scraper in my hand, i threw the end of it to him, and said, 'now, don't be afraid, you'll soon be all right.' i did save him, but alas!--and my hand trembles while i write it--the first utterance that fell from his lips was a fearful oath, 'd---my eyes!' o, how grieved i was to hear a man, just at the point of death, utter such an expression. we soon got him on board of our packet, and put him in some warm and dry clothes. on friday night, december the 6th, 1867, a fire broke out in hull, and my son joseph, was there, and sprung the rattle, giving the alarm, and the first man that came to the spot was davis. one of my son's companions called out, 'ellerthorpe!' when davis said, 'is john ellerthorpe that young man's father?' 'yes,' was the reply. 'ah!' said davis, 'he saved my life, and but for him i should not have been here to-night.' i trust the lord will yet save him, and that i shall meet him and others whom i have rescued, at the right hand of the great judge. _thirty-fifth._--a boy--name unknown.* (1850.) at this time i was captain of the hull dock steam tug. one night, about eleven o'clock, the railway goods station was on fire, and i was summoned from my bed to go and remove our packet, which was moored close to where the fire had broken out. in the space of two hours, three men fell overboard, all of whom i rescued, with the assistance of others. soon after i had to take the dock company's fire-engine on board our packet, as they could not find enough water on shore. the wind was blowing a heavy gale, and before i could get the packet to a convenient place, sufficient water had been found, and the engine was not needed. while i was busy with the packet, a man was drowned, and i felt greatly distressed on his account. so i went and sat down on the paddle-box and placed a boat hook at my side, to be ready should any one fall into the water. i had not sat many moments when i saw a youth, about seventeen years of age, fall overboard. i jumped from the paddle-box on to the dock wall, and ran as fast as i could to the spot. while the fire was blazing before me i could see the boy distinctly, but when i got past the fire it was pitchy dark, and i lost all trace of the drowning youth. thousands of people were thronging and shouting in every direction, and i lost all hopes of saving the youth, who was now submerged in the water. but when i could not get any further, for the press of the people, i threw in the boat hook; it was eighteen feet long and the tide was very high. i knelt with one knee on the wall, and felt the boy at about fifteen feet under water. the hook caught the bottom of his waistcort, and i felt him take hold of it with both his hands. i never could ascertain the boy's name, but the whole case was fully reported in the local newspapers at the time, and hundreds, yea, thousands of people now in hull, well remember it. witnessed by thousands. _thirty-sixth._--george pepper.* (1852.) george was the son of my shipmate, who witnessed the whole affair. he was a scholar in the trinity house school, but it being easter monday, he had a holiday, and came to spend the afternoon on board, with his father. the packet started suddenly, and the rope by which she had been fastened to the pier, struck the boy, and overboard he went. the packet was in motion, but i leaped into the water, while george's father went to fetch a boat hook, but it is my opinion the boy would have been drowned had i waited for the hook. the boy's father was a good swimmer, but he has often told me that he always wanted to think a few moments before he durst leap into the water. however, i saved his son in a few moments, and without much difficulty; indeed, when his mother said to him, 'george, what did you think when you was in the water?' he replied, 'o, mother, i hadn't time to think, for mr. ellerthorpe caught me directly.' next morning, george was ready for school and i was ready for my work, and scarcely any one knew aught of the affair. the fact was, both pepper and myself were to blame in not warning the boy of the danger that had nearly cost him his life. george is now a young man, and sails, i believe, from the port of hull, and he seems to think as much of his deliverance now as he did fifteen years ago. _witness_--henry bolton. _thirty-seventh._--robert woodman.* (1854.) he was a youth belonging to the brig 'janet,' of south shields, which was leaving the victoria dock, hull, and he had the misfortune, while unfastening the check-rope, attached to the 'dolphin,' to fall overboard. for some time he struggled in the water, helpless, and it was apparent that he was drowning. at the time i was on board the dock company's tug, which was about thirty yards from the spot, when, fortunately, i happened to see the youth, and i immediately sprang into the water with all my clothes on. i succeeded in seizing the boy as he was sinking, and placed him in such a position as enabled me to keep him above the water, when i made the best of my way to the brig's boat, a few yards off. the poor lad, in his almost insensible state, got upon my head and clung to me tightly, and in a few moments, so entwined himself around my arms as to render me almost incapable of swimming, and the probability at that time was, that both of us would be drowned. i saw and felt my perilous position, as he threatened to draw me again into the water, by his desperate struggles; but at last, with the strength and force of desperation, i managed to reach the painter of the boat, which fortunately being 'taut' from the ring, enabled me to raise myself and the youth out of the water, and we were both got into the boat, though in a most exhausted condition; indeed i had to be conveyed home. the boy soon recovered and left the dock the next tide, and i never saw him again. but i wrote to the captain of the ship, and received this beautiful letter from the youth's father:- my dear sir,--the captain of the brig 'janet' has sent me the very kind letter from you, wishing to know the age and name of my boy, which i am glad to tell you. his name is robert woodman, and he is seventeen years of age. i live in london, and i am very sorry to tell you that it is not in my power to give you anything or i would most gladly have done so. but do accept my sincere thanks; and i do hope, sir, that if it should please god to spare my son to manhood, that he will in some way present you a proof of his gratitude for the great deed of daring that you have done for him; for the captain said the boy could not have been saved had it not been for you. please to accept my most grateful thanks for your great kindness to my poor boy. yours truly, woodman. now, i can truthfully say, that this letter paid me well for the great risk i had run, as it gave me great pleasure. some time after, the 'janet' returned to hull, and i went on board to see if i could find the youth, but the bird had flown, for the captain told me he had run away from his ship, and that he had no idea where he was. the captain was glad to see me and wanted me to have a glass of grog, but i refused, having become, a short time before, a pledged abstainer from all intoxicating drinks. _thirty-eighth._--ann martin.* (1860.) while the humber dock gate was being closed, this woman, who was forty-eight years of age, came up to the bridge, and refusing to wait until the proper time for passing, she attempted to step from one half of the bridge to the other, and in making the attempt, she fell, head first, into the water below. it was high tide at the time, and she was rapidly carried away by the stream. the night was dark and i was very ill, but when i heard that a woman was overboard, i ran to the spot; but alas! i could not see her, and for a moment i thought there was no chance of saving her. but knowing that assistance must be immediately rendered or the woman would be out of sight, and beyond the reach of help, i plunged into the water and soon brought her to the bridge. they let down a boat hook to which we both clung, and then a ladder, up which to ascend. but i told them i would rather have a boat, which was soon brought and we were landed in safety. while clinging to the hook, the woman, as might be expected, was full of alarm, but i knew she was safe enough, so to allay her fears, and wile away a few moments of painful, but unavoidable waiting, i jocosely said to her, 'hold fast now, missus. you are as safe now as though you were watching the pot boil over.' she afterwards told me that the most pleasant sensation she ever experienced in her life, was at the moment when she felt some one had hold of her in the water. this woman has manifested the liveliest gratitude for what i did for her, and she never crosses the bridge without calling at my house to enquire after me, and she often says, to my good wife, 'you know i aint right if i don't see the master about.' she was very poor at the time i saved her, but on the following christmas she brought me a _duck_ for my dinner. i refused to take it, for i knew she could not afford to give me it; but she said, 'you must take it; i meant giving you a goose, but i could'nt afford to buy one. now do take the duck, do, sir.' i saw it would grieve her if i refused, so i took it; _and this is the first, and only occasion that i have taken aught from those whom i have rescued_. and i am sure in this case, it was more blessed to give than it was to receive, for the woman was both satisfied and delighted. the gratitude of this poor woman, and also that of her family, seems unabated. _witness_--william turner. _thirty-ninth._--john eaby.* (july 30, 1861.) police constable green, 69, was on duty at the south-end about half-past ten o'clock, on the morning of the above date, and about one hour before high water, when he saw eaby, in a fit, fall from the quay into the humber dock basin. he immediately called out, 'a man overboard,' and with the assistance of another man, got the grapplings and caught hold of eaby by his clothes, but he being of great weight, they tore asunder, and he again dropped into the water. green then called for further assistance, when our friend ran to the rescue, and urged by eaby's fearful condition, and the benevolent feelings of his own noble spirit, he immediately jumped into the water and seized the drowning man. from the effects of the fit, the man struggled desperately. our friend tried to get a rope round him, but could not; he got his hand into his preserver's mouth, and would have drowned him, had not mr. ellerthorpe had so many opportunities of trial in such cases. eaby's first expression on coming out of his fit was, 'what are you doing here?' when his deliverer replied, 'havn't i as much right here as you have?' then eaby went off into another fit. by this time a boatman, named john tickells, came to our friend's assistance, and was joined by robert ash, gateman, humber dock, who slipped the grappling rope into the boat. they then both seized eaby, and got him into the boat and tied his legs, otherwise, so desperate was he, he would have split the boat up. they then assisted our friend into the boat. eaby struggled so desperately that the men had great difficulty in holding him in the boat. he was taken to his house, 20, dagger lane, where he was attended by mr. lowther, surgeon, accompanied by policeman green. he soon escaped, without clothes, and, followed along the street by a crowd of people, ran into no. 11, fish street, and got into one of mr. alcock's beds. he was thirty-seven years of age, and had been subject to fits for years, which were often very violent. _witnesses_--william turner, william steadman. this rescue--the last of a large number that mr. ellerthorpe was the honoured instrument of achieving--was witnessed by hundreds of spectators, who were filled with admiration and wonder. these were seen in their countenances and heard in their shouts of applause, as he struggled with this poor unfortunate man. not only so, but it led the public to raise a subscription for mr. ellerthorpe. two working men, mr. william turner, and mr. william steadman, who witnessed the humane and heroic conduct of their fellow townsman, took the initiative, and how hard they worked, and how nobly they accomplished their object, will be seen from our next chapter. the above list of thirty-nine persons saved by our friend, contains _three little girls_, _fifteen youths_, _six women_, and _fourteen men_, in the strength and vigour of their days; and _one old man_ burdened by the weight of seventy-five years. they were saved at the following places: (america,) quebec, _two_; toronto, _one_; barton, _one_; castleford, _one_; humber bank, _one_; burlington bay, _one_; london, _two_; new holland, _three_; hessle, _five_; hull, _twenty-two_. these deliverances took place in the following years: 1820, _two_; 1822, _one_; 1824, _one_; 1825, _two_; 1826, _one_; 1828, _two_; 1830, _one_; 1833, _three_; 1834, _three_; 1835, _three_; 1836, _seven_; 1837, _two_; 1843, _one_; 1844, _one_; 1846, _three_; 1849-50, _two_; 1852, _one_; 1854, _one_; 1860, _one_; 1861, _one_. but though eaby was the last person our friend actually rescued, his readiness to imperil his own life, that he might save the lives of others, did not expire on that ever memorable occasion. a clergyman called to see him, and amongst other things, said, 'now ellerthorpe, your work is done; god has honoured you above most men, be satisfied; remember the old adage, "the pitcher goes often to the well, but gets broken at last."' our friend shook his head and said, 'do you think, sir, i could see a man overboard and not plunge in after him? no, sir.' and though upwards of sixty-one years of age, and suffering acutely at times from his oft exposures in the water and cold, he yet thought as deeply and felt as strongly as ever for his drowning fellow creatures; and on two or three occasions his old zeal rose to furnace heat. in proof of this we give the following extracts from the hull papers: [sidenote: a sailor drowned.] a sailor drowned.--on monday last, an inquest was held at the parliament-street police-station by mr. p. f. thorney, the borough coroner, on view of the body of thomas bates, who had been a seaman on board the screw steamer 'irwell.' on saturday evening, about eight o'clock, the deceased fell from the forecastle deck of the above-named vessel into the humber dock lock pit. mr. john ellerthorpe, the foreman at the gates, immediately jumped in after him, and though both were taken out within five minutes, by the dock gateman, bates was pronounced to be dead by mr. lowther, surgeon, who was summoned to the spot. a verdict of accidental death was returned.--_hull news, feb. 14th, 1863._ respecting this case our friend says, 'mr. bates spoke to me in the water, and said, "i shall soon be all right," and i thought he would too. the water was piercingly cold, and i went and changed my clothes, and when i returned to see how the poor man was, dr. lowther had pronounced him dead. i never felt such a sense of distress as i did at that moment; i did my very best to save him; indeed, mr. lowther says, "the man died in an apoplectic fit." it was deeply distressing to see the poor widow, when her husband was pronounced dead; she was overcome by the suddenness of the stroke, and mr. dale brown kindly sent her home in a cab. this man, and ashly taylor (aged 75 years), are the only instances out of upwards of forty i have rescued, of death taking place in consequence of their being in the water.' a man in the humber dock.--yesterday a man, named george taylor, who is frequently employed in connection with the landing of fish, &c., and who resides in the 'trippett,' while in a fit fell into the humber dock, at the south-west corner, near to where the 'alster' steam vessel was lying. his fall was seen by some men who were standing near at the time and they at once got some boat-hooks to draw him out. mr. ellerthorpe, the foreman of the humber dock bridge, whose humanity and gallantry in saving people from drowning, has won for him the title of the 'hero of the humber,' was ready to plunge in after the poor fellow, had he not been readily recovered by the hooks. on being got on shore, he was brought into the bridge watch-house and properly attended to. before recovering he had several fits. he was eventually sent home wrapped in blankets.--_eastern morning news_, december 13th, 1866. man overboard.--about two o'clock on saturday, whilst mr. john ellerthorpe was busy at the mytongate bridge passing a vessel through, he heard something splashing in the water, which he thought was a dog. he called out to a lighterman, named george woolass and another man who were on board of the vessel, to bring a boat and get the animal out. a boat was obtained, and the splashing was found to be caused by a man who had fallen overboard. on getting him out it was found he belonged to one of the fly-boats, and had he remained many seconds more in the water he must have been drowned.--_hull advertiser_, march 2nd, 1867. [sidenote: his efforts in the watch-house.] we have seen in several instances, that our friend, after having rescued the drowning, remained with them until all fears of immediate death were totally dissipated. indeed his kindly ministrations in the watch-house of the humber dock company, have been scarcely less remarkable than his exploits in saving the drowning from the water. in that room is the 'royal humane society's apparatus for the recovery of persons apparently drowned or dead, accompanied with directions for the proper treatment of such cases.' and there our friend stood for hours together, in his wet clothes, during the piercing cold of winter and the oppressive heat of summer, endeavouring to restore suspended animation. he says, 'i always felt very anxious about those i had rescued, and in dangerous cases generally remained with them until they came round. by remaining in my wet clothes on these occasions i have often seriously damaged my health; but i felt so anxious about them that i often forgot altogether my own wet state. dr. henry gibson says i have seriously injured my constitution by these long exposures in wet clothing, and i am afraid he is right, and that it will shorten my days.' [sidenote: a remarkable instance.] we give one instance of his ministrations in this watch-house:-about three o'clock on the morning of july the 23rd, 1865, he suddenly awoke out of a profound sleep, and thought he heard a boy call out, 'there is a man overboard.' he sprang from his bed, threw up the window, but not a person could he see, not a sound could he hear, not a ripple on the water could he discern, to indicate danger. he concluded he had been dreaming, but when about to leave the window he saw one of his fellow workmen running with the grappling iron. the old spanish proverb says, 'that when a man's house is on fire he does not stay to consider if the shoe pinches,' and so absorbed was our friend by the fear that some one was drowning that, without shoes on his feet, and with nothing but his night shirt to cover him, he ran down stairs, leaped over two chains, thrown across the bridge, and in a few moments he was beside the man with the 'grapplings,' who had also heard the cry but could not tell whence or from whom it had come. the surrounding waters lay calm and undisturbed by a single ripple, and there was nothing to indicate that anyone had sunk. at our friend's request, his companion sprang into a boat, and let down the grappling iron, and, strange to say, brought up mr. thomas hogg, of ulceby, lincolnshire. they at first pronounced him dead, but after cleansing his mouth and nostrils he was thought to breathe; he was at once taken to the watch-house, where our friend, with fresh anxiety and awakened hope, applied the royal humane society's apparatus, and with complete success. the process was continued till six o'clock, when scores of persons were gathered round the watch-house. the man then said to mr. ellerthorpe, 'come master, it is time you were in your own house; you're not fit to be here amongst all these folks.' it was not till the man thus spoke that our friend was aware of his half-naked state. all did well on this occasion, but mr. ellerthorpe's conduct was exceptionally noble. [sidenote: his efforts on behalf of the brave.] the last to claim recognition and reward for his own humane and gallant deeds, mr. ellerthorpe has ever proved himself the first and foremost in securing them on behalf of others. the following letter, received in answer to an urgent appeal which he made on behalf of an aged and destitute couple, will illustrate what i mean:- office of committee of privy council for trade, marine department, _whitehall, 16th january, 1863_. sir,--i am directed by the lords of the committee of privy council for trade, to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 30th ult., calling attention to the fact that the late charles anderson, who lost his life in endeavouring to save the lives of others from shipwreck, has left a father and mother unprovided for, and to inform you that my lords have this day forwarded to the receiver of wreck, at hull, an order for the amount of five pounds (â£5) to be paid to the parents of the deceased. i am, sir, john ellerthorpe, esq., your obedient servant, humber dock gates, hull. james booth. [sidenote: his appeal to the board of trade.] in december, of the same year, he made a similar appeal to the board of trade, on behalf of some hull seamen, and received the following answer:- board of trade, whitehall, _4th february, 1864_. sir,--i am instructed by the lords of the committee of the privy council for trade to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the 16th december last, calling their lordships' attention to the services rendered on the 4th december, by some fishermen of hull, to the crew of the schooner 'john thomas,' of carnarvon, and i am to inform you in reply, that my lords have presented the sum of five pounds (â£5) to be divided amongst the crew of the 'washer,' as a mark of their appreciation of their gallant conduct, and ten pounds (â£10) to the owners of the smack as compensation for loss of time, &c. the receiver of wreck has received instructions to pay the above-mentioned sums to the parties in question. i am, sir, john ellerthorpe, esq., your obedient servant, humber dock gates, j. h. farrer. kingston-upon-hull. the following letter explains itself:- humber lock gate, hull. _february 17th, 1863._ _to the secretary of the royal humane society._ sir,--i take the liberty of addressing you in consequence of an accident having occurred, last week, in the lock pit of the humber dock gates, of this town. a man fell from a steamer going out of the dock, whom i followed into the water in the hope of being able to save his life; but although he was not more than a minute and a half in the water, and he spoke to me when i had hold of him, the surgeon pronounced him to be dead when taken to the men's watch-house close by. a similar instance took place about three years ago. i wish to know if, in a case of this kind, a surgeon is justified in pronouncing life to be extinct without having previously used the means for restoring suspended animation. we have the royal humane society's apparatus always close at hand, but rarely used. having the honour to hold the society's silver medal, as well as its testimonial on vellum, and also a silver medal from the board of trade for saving life from drowning on many occasions, i feel much interest in this subject; and i shall feel much obliged if you will give me instructions how to proceed in the event of a similar case taking place. i believe the royal humane society issue printed instructions how to treat cases of suspended animation. if you will send me some of them i shall feel greatly obliged to you. i am, sir, with respect, your obedient servant, john ellerthorpe. our friend received the following answer:- royal humane society, office, no. 4, trafalgar-square, w.c. _february 18th, 1863._ sir,--in reply to your note of the 17th, i beg to say that in the course of ten days or so, i will send some of the instructions issued by this society for the treatment of those who are apparently dead from drowning, and you can place them in your room. of course i am unable to give an opinion as to whether the medical man called in, in the case you refer to, was or was not right, as i am not cognizant of the whole state of the case; but i will suggest that, in all future cases which you may have to treat, you will persevere in your attempts at recovery for at _least_ half-an-hour before you give up the patient as dead. yours faithfully, lambton j. h. young, mr. j. ellerthorpe. secretary. chapter viii. the honoured hero. [sidenote: the honoured hero.] no labour is ever lost that seeks to promote the welfare of men. at the outset there may be difficulties and opposition, but patience and perseverance will in the end bring their reward. and if the warrior rejoices in the number of his victories, the patriot in the extension of his country's liberties, the statesman in the success of his peculiar polity, and the philanthropist in the mitigation of human woes, how much purer and stronger must be the joy of the man who has been the means of saving the lives of his fellow-creatures? alexander, emperor of russia, whose armies had won many a victory on the field of battle, once rescued a man from drowning, and he ever afterwards said that _that_ was the happiest day of his life. as no living individual, perhaps, has saved so many lives, on so many separate and distinct occasions, and under equally perilous circumstances, as our friend, so we may infer that his personal joy was proportionately great. he always did his best to save human life, having made that one of the chief objects of his existence, and he reaped a rich recompense. he says, 'i always thought it as much my duty to try and save the drowning, as it was their duty to try and save themselves; and i always felt myself amply recompensed, and highly satisfied, when i got them out of the water and saw they were all right. physically, i often felt much exhausted by the efforts i had made, and could eat no food, nor could i take rest, for hours after rescuing the drowning. but i was filled with a pleasure i could not describe; sometimes my feelings found vent in tears, and at other times in loud and hearty laughter; and when questioned as to my feelings, i could only say, "i can't tell you how i feel." i had this thought and feeling running through me, throbbing within me, "i have saved a fellow creature from drowning." and that imparted to me a happiness which no amount of money, and no decorations of honour, could have given me; a happiness which no man can conceive, far less describe, unless he has himself snatched a fellow creature from a watery grave.' [sidenote: his personal joy.] [sidenote: the gratitude of those whom he rescued.] our friend also reaped a rich reward in the gratitude of many whom he had the pleasure of saving. and we have seen that he could receive no higher gratification than this. king charles, the first, had such an unhappy manner that, even in granting a favour, he often grieved those whom he obliged. and we know that almost as much depends upon the manner of doing a kindness, as upon the act itself. indeed, in some instances, even a frank and positive refusal will give less pain than an ungracious and grudgingly bestowed favour. now, we hesitate not to say that, what mr. ellerthorpe did, was kindly and generously done. and he always felt that the cheers of the multitude as he bore the rescued to the shore, and the spontaneous thanks of those whom he had saved, surpassed in value any tribute of money which could have been placed in his hands. wordsworth, referring to the overflowing gratitude which had gone beyond the worth of the trivial favours bestowed, says: 'alas; the gratitude of men hath oftener left me mourning.' but our friend performed the noblest deeds, and grateful returns were always as pleasant to him as cold water to a thirsty soul. he says, 'i was always well satisfied if they manifested gratitude, but i must confess, that when they never came near me, nor in any way communicated with me, as was the case with some whom i have saved,--for instance, mr. leeson and miss hill--i was not satisfied. my pleasure at the remembrance of what i did for them is mixed with pain. it may be a weakness of mine, but an ungrateful man is, in my opinion, one of the biggest sinners in the world. i hate ingratitude, and i can affirm, that no rewards i have received from societies and individuals have ever given me half the pleasure that the gratitude of some of those i rescued gave me.' and can we wonder that he should thus write? shakespeare says:- 'i hate ingratitude more in a man than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, or any taint of vice whose strong corruption inhabits our frail blood.' ingratitude for favours conferred is a most unnatural disposition, and is reproved even by the brute creation; for they manifest a strong instinctive feeling of gratitude towards their benefactors. 'the ox knoweth his owner and the ass his master's crib.' some time ago, a steamer sunk beneath the surging wave, with upwards of two hundred souls on board. the captain, who was as noble a man as ever steered a vessel, sank with the rest of the passengers and crew. fortunately, however, he came up again, and seizing a plank, he clung to it until rescued by a vessel that happened to be passing. 'ah,' said he, on telling the story afterwards, 'if my heart's affection ever clung to anything besides my wife, and my mother, and my child, it was to that plank; it saved my life.' and yet, some forgot our friend, whose skilful hand and brave heart bore them through the foaming waters to land. [sidenote: his services recognised by the great.] all did not. 'you shall lodge in my heart, and i will never ask you for rent,' said a grateful irishman to one who had done him a favour. and our friend found a welcome and a home in the warmest affections of many of those whom he rescued. the blessing of many who were literally ready to perish came upon him. w. turner, whom our friend saved in burlington bay, says, 'what a mercy it is that god has provided such a man as mr. ellerthorpe, to render assistance when assistance is required at his hands; for he is ever willing at any moment, and at the first call, to risk his life. i question whether there is such another man in the world. he has a good and kind heart, and in his general conduct displays kind feelings towards all and everybody. i hope he will remain long with us, and that at last we shall meet him in heaven, never to part again.' robert tether, speaking of his deliverance, says, 'some one said to me on the occasion, "my boy, you ought ever to remember that man," and i do remember him and will never forget him. if i had but a shilling in the world, john ellerthorpe should have half of it, if he needed it. i can say that from the time he delivered me i have always liked to see him, and i never think the place is right if i do not see him there. he shall never want if i can help him. may he live long, and always have plenty.' these, and similar expressions of gratitude, recorded on former pages of this work, were more valuable, in our friend's estimation, than stores of gold. [sidenote: his interview with lord wenlock.] though mr. ellerthorpe never urged his claims to public recognition, yet we rejoice to state that his humane and gallant deeds were not permitted to pass unnoticed and unrewarded. persons of high distinction, and of great authority in the social world, spoke to him words of greeting, commendation, and encouragement. lord wenlock, having had recounted to him some of the incidents recorded in the last chapter, said, 'how pleasant it is, ellerthorpe, to have the satisfaction, while living, of having done our fellow creatures good.' captain wilson, whose gallant conduct enabled him, during the american war, to re-capture his ship, 'emile st. pierre,' from a greatly superior force, and who received, for his valorous deed, a silver tea and coffee service from 170 merchants of liverpool, and also 2,000 guineas from the owners of the 'emile st. pierre,' paid a visit to hull, and requested to have an interview with mr. ellerthorpe. in company with captain hurst, he went to the humber dock gates to see him. they shook each others hand for some time; at length, captain wilson said, 'i'm glad to see you. i have often heard of your bravery in saving your fellow men from drowning, and i have sometimes wished i could see you; you are what i call a brave, clever fellow. they say i have done a clever action, but i may never do another. but your life has been crowded with deeds of gallantry. go on and prosper, my good fellow, and may god bless you; and rest assured if i again come near where you are, i shall come and see you.' it must have been a pleasing sight to have seen these two men, of brave hearts and noble deeds, grasp hands in recognition of each others services. towards the close of the year 1835 the following statement appeared in the hull newspapers:- 'we understand some gentlemen are interesting themselves in favour of ellerthorpe by representing his repeated exertions in the cause of humanity, and sending the particular cases to the royal humane society. we shall be ready to receive any subscriptions for the purpose of rewarding one so highly deserving recompense from his fellow men. ellerthorpe is married and has two children.'--_nov. 23, 1835._ the appeal to the royal humane society was sent, and mr. ellerthorpe received the following response:- society's house, _january 21st, 1836._ the secretary of the royal humane society is directed to inform john ellerthorpe that at an adjourned general court of the institution, held on the 18th inst., the honorary medallion of the society was unanimously conferred on him for his courage and humanity in saving the lives of nine persons at different times. john ellerthorpe, barrow, near barton-on-humber, lincoln. [sidenote: the medallion of the royal humane society.] the medallion bears this inscription:-[illustration: hoc pretium cive servato tvlit _j. ellerthorpe_, sit ob sow dovo dat _soc. reg. h.v.m._ 1836.] [sidenote: royal humane society's thanks on vellum.] the following testimonial, inscribed on vellum, accompanied the medallion:-[illustration] royal humane society, instituted 1774. for the recovery of persons apparently drowned or (dead). _patron_--the king. _patroness_--the queen. _president_--his grace the duke of northumberland, k.g. * * * * * at a general court holden at the society's house, chatham-place, blackfriars, on monday, the 18th day of january, 1836. colonel clitherow, _vice president_, in the chair, it was resolved unanimously- that the noble courage and humanity displayed by john ellerthorpe, a seaman of the new holland steam packet, on the 19th of november, 1835, in jumping overboard to the relief of a sailor, named robert brown, at hull, whose life he saved; and the repeated heroism which ellerthorpe has on former occasions manifested for the preservation of human life, wholly regardless of the risk he himself incurred, and by which he saved eight persons from drowning, has called forth the most lively admiration of this general court, and justly entitles him to the honorary medallion of the institution which is hereby unanimously awarded him. northumberland, _president_. besleley weshopp, _secretary_. james clitherow, _chairman_. [sidenote: appeals on behalf of mr. ellerthorpe.] in the year 1846, a number of merchants and gentlemen sought to secure for our friend the highest rewards the royal humane society could bestow; but to their application they received the following answer:- royal humane society, office no. 3, trafalgar square, _8th july, 1846_. dear sir,--in reference to your letter of yesterday's date, i beg to inform you that the pecuniary rewards of this society are limited to london and its environs. but honorary rewards are given for cases which may occur at any distance, upon the particulars being well authenticated by persons who witnessed the exertions of the claimant. should john ellerthorpe have risked his life on the occasion you now allude to, and thereby merit an _honorary_ testimonial from the society, i shall be most happy in submitting the particulars to the committee, on their being forwarded agreeably with the enclosed instruction paper. i remain, dear sir, h. d. r. pease, esq., j.p. yours very obediently, hesslewood, near hull. j. charlier, _sec._ a second application was made to the royal humane society, in 1852, when the following reply was returned:- royal humane society, office no. 3, trafalgar square, _28th september, 1852_. dear sir,--in reply to your letter of yesterday's date, i beg to inform you that the cases alluded to in the statement of john ellerthorpe are all _out of date_ for any reward from this society. perhaps you are not aware that he has already received the silver medal of this institution for the case in 1835, which was laid before the committee at the proper period, viz., within one month after the occurrence. i therefore beg to return you the statements, and remain, dear sir, yours obediently, j. charlier, jas. r. pease, esq., hesslewood, hull. _sec._ [sidenote: large congratulatory meeting in hull.] in the year 1861, and soon after our friend had rescued john eaby from a watery grave, the people of hull made an effort to reward their brave and gallant townsman, who had rescued from their own docks and around the pier, not fewer than twenty-three persons. a committee was formed, under the presidentship of mr. john symons, a member of the town council, and a man of untiring energy and philanthropic disposition. mr. symons thus states the origin and success of this movement:- 'hull, _sept 13th, 1867_, 72, queen street. dear sir,--i must apologise for my seeming neglect in not complying earlier with your request respecting mr. ellerthorpe: the fact is, my public duties allow me but little leisure for writing. however, i will try to refresh my memory as to the way in which that kind, humane, undaunted man, received recognition. in july, 1861, the local papers contained an account of a young man named eaby, who, while in an apoplectic fit, fell into the dock basin; the tide was running down rapidly and the wind was blowing strong. mr. ellerthorpe, while on duty at the dock gates, saw the man struggling and beating the water into foam; he immediately plunged from the wall, and after a fearful struggle between the two, the young man being violently affected, both were saved. this act was witnessed by several people, amongst whom were two warm-hearted working men, named steadman and turner. the following day they called upon me, with a written list of twenty-nine lives saved by mr. ellerthorpe. the account savoured of romance, but then it was signed by living witnesses, who corroborated the truth of the statements made. the men asked me to assist them in getting up some public demonstration in favour of mr. ellerthorpe. i told them i would lend my humble aid, but they must obtain some man of mark for their chairman, to take the initiative. they applied to several gentlemen, but in vain, all refused. they pleaded hard that i would act as chairman, and sooner than allow the thing to die away, i consented, although, at the time, entirely unused to address large public audiences. the mayor, w. hodge, esq., granted us the use of a large room at the town hall, and then we issued large placards calling upon the people to attend and publicly congratulate mr. ellerthorpe on his recent narrow escape, and likewise to open a subscription for presenting him with a testimonial. the meeting was a crowded one, but principally composed of working men. i was not in the least disheartened by this; for long before i had got through the list of persons saved by john ellerthorpe, the large county-court room rang with cheer after cheer pealing forth ever and anon. when, for the first time, was enrolled the long, distinguished list of lives saved from drowning by the hitherto obscure and humble servant of the humber dock company, such heroism and bravery 'touched' the souls of a few present who could afford to subscribe. [sidenote: councillor symon's account of the meeting.] the following letter from dale brown, esq., was then read:- pilot office, hull, _aug. 8, 1861_. sir,--having made an engagement for friday evening before i knew of your meeting, i cannot possibly attend. had one of our townsmen returned from india or the crimea, after destroying half as many lives as mr. ellerthorpe has been instrumental in saving, he would have been considered a 'hero,' and rewarded accordingly. surely it is more blessed to save than to destroy. should the object of the meeting be to raise a fund for acknowledging mr. ellerthorpe's gallantry, i shall gladly contribute my mite. i am, sir, yours obediently, mr. john symons. dale brown. i then recounted the interview with mr. ellerthorpe before attending the meeting, when i asked him 'what he wished in the matter,' when he made this reply, sir, i feel sufficiently rewarded in my own breast, without receiving any reward excepting the approbation of heaven, and the satisfaction of having won for myself the gratitude of my fellow townsmen.' this was responded to by loud and long cheering. i then called upon mr. w. turner to move the first resolution, and mr. steadman to second it, because they were the pioneers of the movement. _just at this crisis of the meeting john eaby came forward and publicly thanked ellerthorpe for what he had done_, which called forth the most exciting cheering. then the late rev. charles rawlings (wesleyan) rose from amongst the people, and, in a sententious speech delivered with a stentorian voice, asked, 'how much does the meeting feel towards a testimonial,' and offered the first donation as a proof of _his feeling_ for mr. ellerthorpe. our fears were then scattered to the wind; the vessel i saw was well launched. another gentleman, mr. henry taylor, came forward and said, in anticipation of a subscription being made towards a testimonial to mr. ellerthorpe, he had already collected a nucleus of â£35. a committee was then formed of which i was chosen chairman, mr. e. haller, secretary, and mr. taylor, treasurer. three cheers were then given for the success of the 'testimonial fund,' and when i rose and christened john ellerthorpe, 'the hero of the humber,' and 'champion life buoy of england,' the people rose _en masse_ cheering in the most enthusiastic manner. the next morning found the humber dock foreman a household word. i will not weary you with recapitulating the result of our labours. from the premier of england down to the humblest dock labourer, all vied with each other in subscribing to the homage of this valorous, humane man. and, sir, i think a moral may be drawn from this,--that no person, however humble he may be in his circumstances, but has it in his power to bless the world. one man can do so by deeds of valour, another by hard and plodding industry, and a third by thought and mental efforts. it has been well said, 'they build up a loftier population making man more manly.' it is evidently our duty to lend a helping hand in the hour of need, either by our wisdom, power, or benevolence. this thought should act as an incentive, more or less powerful, on each person, and make him restless until he becomes satisfied that he is doing something to ameliorate the condition of his fellow men. men should thus fulfil their mission until called to receive their reward, namely, 'rest for their souls under the tree of life.' i am, dear sir, yours respectfully, mr. h. woodcock. john symons. [sidenote: a working man's letter.] the following letter, addressed to mr. symons, is given as a specimen of the feeling with which the working men of hull regarded this movement:- hull, _aug. 9th, 1861_. mr. chairman,--i cannot let the present opportunity pass without thanking the committee for the movement they have taken in this affair. it shows that such acts of humanity may appear to slumber for a time in the breasts of englishmen until they can bear it no longer, then out it must come; and permit me to add that the moment i heard of the movement to present some token of respect to mr. ellerthorpe, it put me in mind of the time when i was a boy about eight years of age: i was sailing a small boat aside of the steps of what is commonly called, sand south end, in the old harbour, when i over-reached myself and fell in. a boy was with me at the time who ran up the steps and shouted out, 'a boy overboard.' a gentleman, who then lived in humber street, was sitting in his front room, he immediately ran out, leaped into the water, took hold of me just as i was going down for the third time, and saved my life from a watery grave. i have always reverenced that gentleman ever since. his name is mr. bean, and he was for several years an alderman for the borough. what, then, must be the feelings of the thirty-nine who have been saved at the eminent risk and peril of mr. ellerthorpe's life? we may help each other in a pecuniary point of view, but very few amongst us have the nerve, power, and ability to leap into the ocean and render assistance to our fellow men. i have therefore great pleasure in subscribing five shillings towards anything you may be disposed to present mr. ellerthorpe with. i am, my dear sir, your obedient servant, wm. allen. [sidenote: poetic tribute of respect to 'the hero.'] our friend's name had become familiar as a household word in all circles of society, in the town and neighbourhood of hull, and great numbers lent their influence to this effort to acknowledge the unequalled bravery of their fellow townsman, whom we must, henceforth acknowledge as the 'hero of the humber.' the 'hull daily express' contained the following poetic tribute of respect to our 'hero.' 'amid all changes evermore unfolded by mental throe, by accident of time, mankind shall venerate the men who moulded heroic actions with an aim sublime! o! ye who shine along life's desert places, who've lived for others' good to help and save, affection hails ye with profound embraces and bows before a brother truly brave! one whose gallant deeds in noble brotherhood, nobler far than warrior's valiant strife, have found their own reward in others' good and proved a blessing in preserving life. and who is he of whom this land is proud, whose name we honour and whose worth is known? he's one who does his duty in the crowd, a worker there--and yet he stands alone! without pretension, who by deeds endears his name afar beyond his native strand, a son of toil--yet one of nature's peers! whose worth's acknowledged in his native land! his is the praise well won for gallant action in saving life along our humber shore, and there are many hearths where recollection returns to him in blessings evermore! and he is worthy!--for in his soul implanted there is a noble usefulness--his choice for others' good, which bards of old have chanted to those who, like him, have made hearts rejoice. o! should these lines be found in after days- a tribute to his fair and honoured name- let such accord to him the meed of praise, tell of his bravery and his worth proclaim! all honour to thee, ellerthorpe, and thine, and as duty calls thee to thy post each morn, may good attend thee and its graces shine, and lead thee upward and thy name adorn.' [sidenote: vote of thanks from the royal humane society.] the following petition, signed by w. hodge, esq., mayor, and upwards of sixty of the leading ministers, merchants, and gentlemen of hull, was forwarded to the royal humane society:- to the honourable the court of the royal humane society. we, the undersigned, members of the municipal corporation, the trinity house, and the dock company at kingston-upon-hull, and merchants of that borough, beg most respectfully to submit to the consideration of your honourable court, the services of john ellerthorpe, now a foreman in the service of the dock company of this borough, who, during the course of the last forty years has, by the providence of god and his own intrepidity, rescued from a watery grave no fewer than twenty-eight persons, often at the great risk of his own life, as may be seen from the statement of particulars hereto annexed. on a former occasion, on the 18th of january, 1836, you were pleased to award to ellerthorpe a medallion and certificate on a representation being made to the society of his having saved eight persons from drowning while employed as a mariner in the new holland ferry. considering that the number of persons he has now saved amounts to twenty-eight, we take the liberty of bringing ellerthorpe's further claims before your notice, believing that you will think with us that his further successful exertions in the cause of humanity, in saving so many persons from drowning, merit some additional mark of your approval. we are, your honourable court's most obedient servants. in response to this appeal the society awarded to our 'hero' an especial vote of thanks, of which more _anon_. the following appeal was made to lord palmerston: yarmouth and rotterdam steam packet office, kingston-upon-hull, _30th august, 1861._ my lord,--the enclosed documents relate to a series of, perhaps, unequalled acts of daring on the part of an inhabitant, a working man, of this borough, in rescuing persons from drowning. he has succeeded, at the repeated risk of his own life, in saving no fewer than twenty-nine persons from a watery grave. the court of the royal humane society having, in respect of the twenty-ninth case, and in reply to the enclosed petition, awarded him their 'thanks on vellum,' a committee of his fellow townsmen has been organised to ensure for him some more substantial award. from your lordship's well-known appreciation of heroic benevolence, the committee has ventured to lay his case before you, in the hope that you would deem it worthy of your distinguished patronage. i have the honour to be, on the part of the committee, your lordship's most humble and obedient servant, edward haller, _hon. sec. 'ellerthorpe testimonial.'_ [sidenote: receives â£20 from the royal bounty.] in reply, _his lordship_ forwarded from the _royal bounty_ the handsome donation of â£20. the following is the letter announcing this gift:- 13632 treasury, whitehall, s.w., 61 17th _september_, 1861. sir,--i am commanded by the lords commissioners to her majesty's treasury to acquaint you that, upon the recommendation of viscount palmerston, the paymaster general has been authorised to pay you the sum of â£20, as of her majesty's royal bounty. i am, sir, your obedient servant, geo. w. hamilton. mr. john ellerthorpe, kingston-upon-hull. the board of trade was next appealed to as follows: hull, 8th _august_, 1861. _to the right honourable thomas milner gibson, president of the board of trade, london._ honourable sir,--i beg most humbly to lay before your honourable board the case of john ellerthorpe, foreman of the humber dock gates at this place, who saved the life of john eaby under most trying circumstances, and at great risk of his own life. on the 30th of july last the said john eaby was seized with a fit and fell into the dock basin, a depth of nearly twenty feet from the top. john ellerthorpe, hearing his cries for assistance, spontaneously leaped into the water, and after struggling with the man in that dangerous condition, eventually succeeded in saving his life. i likewise humbly beg to inform your honourable board that this is the twenty-ninth person's life the said john ellerthorpe has been the exclusive means of saving from a watery grave. if your honourable board should deem his actions of humanity worthy of your honourable board's notice, a committee of the working men of this town is in formation to present him with a memorial, and if your honourable board consider him worthy of any remuneration, i will communicate the same to the chairman of the committee, who will forward any information your honourable board may require. i remain your most humble and obedient servant, thomas rawlinson. 2, wellington-street, hull. [sidenote: receives a silver medal.] in answer to this appeal, the board of trade, through sir emmerson tennant, struck a silver medal to the honour of mr. ellerthorpe. the sovereign having awarded our 'hero' with a gift of â£20, and the royal humane society and the board of trade having decorated him with their marks of honour, it remained for the inhabitants of hull to show their appreciation of the humane and gallant deeds of their fellow townsman. such deeds as our 'hero' _had_ performed are not less heroic than feats of valour on the battle-field, and well deserve _public_ recognition as well as reward from private associations. * * * * * [sidenote: presentation meeting in hull.] the long-looked-for presentation took place in the music hall, jarratt street, hull, on wednesday evening, november the 6th, 1861. upwards of four hundred persons sat down to tea, and the local papers state that greater enthusiasm was, perhaps, never witnessed than during this remarkable meeting. the room was gaily decorated with bannarets, and suspended over the chair was a large flag, bearing the following motto:-'long live ellerthorpe, the hero of the humber!' grace having been chanted and justice done to the sumptuous tea, the public meeting began. mr. john symons occupied the chair, and he was surrounded on the platform by a large number of ministers, gentlemen, merchants, mechanics, and working men. [sidenote: chairman's address.] the chairman said:--it was a common custom of persons not novices situated similarly to himself, to preface their remarks by saying that some person of higher local distinction ought to occupy the honourable position as chairman, and that was his request to the committee. but as such a person was not secured, he felt proud of the position he occupied amongst them. he little thought that the movement would have proved so successful when he embarked in it, for with but little effort we have received the free-will offerings of â£170. of course printing, advertising, and other incidental expenses were incurred, and cannot be dispensed with in order to succeed in similar objects. the royal humane society had awarded to ellerthorpe an especial vote of thanks; the board of trade, through sir emmerson tennant, had struck a silver medal in his honour; and last, but not least, the popular premier of england had forwarded from the royal bounty the handsome donation of â£20. thus the movement so humbly began, resembled the 'little spring in the mountain rock,' which became a brook, a torrent, a wide rolling river. by narrating the lives saved by ellerthorpe's unprecedented bravery, they had struck a chord in the innermost recesses of the heart of the benevolent portion of the people. he was surprised to find that no one had recognised ellerthorpe's heroism before. during a period of forty years he had saved the lives of upwards of thirty persons. but however tardily it may appear to some, ultimately, eternal justice will assert itself. john ellerthorpe never required, never expected any public recognition of his services. the only praise sought by him was- 'what nothing earthly gives or can destroy, the soul's calm sunshine and the heartfelt joy.' in being the means of saving so many lives from premature death by drowning. never let it be said the days of chivalry were over in england while we have such a nobleman as a lord beauclerc[3] of scarborough, and a commoner called ellerthorpe at hull. he believed with those who say that the men who dares the 'tempests' wrath,' and the 'billows' madden'd play' on the errand of saving life, to be as great heroes as those who 'seek for bubble reputation at the cannon's mouth.' he would rather be a bearer of thirty blessings than the hero of one hundred fights. no true history of hull could be written which did not contain the record of ellerthorpe's name, and the glorious deeds he had performed. nor could he conclude without expressing the heartfelt hope that the 'hero of the humber' might long live to enjoy the splendid gifts about to be presented to him, and when disease shall overtake him in his declining days, may the contents of that purse procure for him the means whereby his pillow of affliction may be smoothed and softened. * * * * * the rev. c. rawlings then expatiated, in a most powerful address, on the life-saving labours of mr. ellerthorpe, which was listened to with a rapt attention, and when he resumed his seat it was amidst a tempest of applause. * * * * * mr. taylor, the treasurer, then presented the gold watch and guard, and a beautiful purse containing one hundred guineas. the watch bears the following inscription:- [illustration] presented to john ellerthorpe, _(by voluntary subscriptions) together with a_ purse containing one hundred guineas, he having saved twenty-nine persons from drowning. hull, nov. 6th, 1861. [sidenote: receives a purse of one hundred guineas.] the purse bears this inscription:- [illustration] this purse, containing one hundred guineas; also, a gold watch & guard, is presented to john ellerthorpe, _foreman of the humber dock gates_, by voluntary subscriptions, he having saved twenty-nine persons from being drowned. _hull, november 6th, 1861._ mr. alderman fountain, amid loud applause, and in a few appropriate words, then presented to mr. ellerthorpe the following vote of thanks, inscribed on vellum, from the royal humane society:- [sidenote: royal humane society's thanks.] [illustration] royal humane society, instituted 1774. supported by voluntary contributions. _patron_--her majesty the queen _vice patron_--h. r. h. the duke of cambridge, k.c., g.c., m.g. _president_--his grace the duke of argyll, k.t. * * * * * at a meeting of the committee of the royal humane society, holden at their office, 4, trafalgar square, on wednesday, the 21st of august, 1861. present--thos. eld. baker, esq., treasurer, in the chair. it was resolved unanimously- that the noble courage and humanity displayed by john ellerthorpe, foreman of the humber dock, in having on the 30th july, 1861, jumped into the dock basin at hull, to the relief of john eaby, who had accidentally fallen therein, and whose life he saved, has called forth the admiration of this committee, and justly entitles him to its sincere thanks, inscribed on vellum, which are hereby awarded, he having already received the honorary silver medallion of this institution for a similar act in 1835. argyll, _president_. lambton j. h. young, _secretary_. thos. eld. baker, _chairman_. [sidenote: medal from the board of trade.] the medal, which is said to be a fine specimen of artistic beauty and elegant workmanship, bears the following device:--one side of the medal represents a group on a raft. one of the men is seated on a spar, waving a handkerchief, as a signal to a small boat seen in the distance; another is supporting a sailor who appears in a drowning state. there is also a female holding a child in her arms, the sea having a stormy appearance. the group forms a most interesting allegory. on the obverse side is a large profile of her majesty, the border bearing the following inscription:- 'awarded by the board of trade for gallantry in saving life.--v.r.' engraved round the edge are the following words: 'presented to john ellerthorpe in acknowledgment of his repeated acts of gallantry in saving life. 1861.' it is enclosed in an elegant morocco case, the lid of which has inscribed upon it, in gilt letters:- 'board of trade medal for gallantry in saving life at sea, awarded to john ellerthorpe.' in presenting this handsome testimonial, mr. brown said:- he quite agreed with the chairman that the last great day alone would reveal the consequences of ellerthorpe's bravery. he had to present to him what he might fairly call a _national testimonial_, as it was from a branch of our national institutions--the board of trade. he had very great pleasure in presenting it to him, and he earnestly prayed that none of his children might ever have to do for him what he had done for his own father. he wished him long life to wear the _medal of honour_. [sidenote: the hero's address.] mr. ellerthorpe then advanced to the front of the platform, and with a heart throbbing with hallowed feeling and eyes filled with tears, he said; i cannot find words with which to express adequately the gratitude i feel at so much kindness having been extended to me, not only by the attendance of the large audience i see before me, but by the numerous testimonials that have been presented to me. i never expected any reward for what i have done, and i have before now refused many offers of rewards that have been made to me by the friends of many whom i have been the means, in the hands of god, of rescuing from a watery grave. i do, however, feel proud at receiving these testimonials, and i trust they will be preserved by my children, and by my children's children, as mementos of my country's acknowledgments of the service i have rendered my fellow-creatures; and yet i feel that i derive far more satisfaction from the consciousness that i have done my duty to my fellow-creatures, in their hour of danger, than i do from the splendid presents you have made me. i hope i shall ever be ready in the future to do as i have done in the past, should circumstances require it of me.--he was greeted with loud applause both at the commencement and conclusion of his speech. a vote of thanks was then passed to the treasurer and secretary, mr. taylor and mr. haller, who responded. the rev. j. petty also spoke. mr. pearson (ex-mayor) then moved a similar vote to the committee. in doing so, he said that it was most remarkable that they had allowed a man like ellerthorpe to have saved so many as thirty persons from drowning before any public recognition of his services had taken place. as it was, a hundred guineas were far below his merits, and he was sure that the merchants of the town had been remiss in their duty in respect to this matter. mr. rufford returned thanks on behalf of the committee. rev. c. rawlings proposed a vote of thanks to the chairman, shaking him warmly by the hand, and congratulating him on the part he had taken in this noble movement. the chairman, in responding, said, he had merely done his duty in the matter; his work had been a pleasure to him, and he had received many valuable lessons, the good impressions of which he hoped would endure in his mind through life. seeing that we live surrounded with water, and that casualties are occurring almost weekly, he thought it was the duty of the people of hull to stimulate others to follow mr. ellerthorpe's example. he should always look back with pride and pleasure to that evening's meeting. 'when time, who steals our years away, shall steal its pleasures too, the memory of the past will stay, and all its joys renew.' he then called upon the audience to close the present meeting as they did the inaugurating meeting, by cheers for the 'hero of the humber and england's champion life buoy,' which was responded to by the company rising, _en masse_, cheering most tumultuously. the national anthem was then sung. mr. morrison, organist, and a party of vocalists, enlivened the proceedings, which were very liberally interspersed with enthusiastic applause on every mention of the 'hero's' name. [sidenote: list of subscriptions.] it is but right to state that the entire sum collected towards the 'ellerthorpe testimonial fund' amounted to â£197 10s., and that about â£133 in cash was handed over to the 'hero of the humber.' mr. hudson, artist, queen st., presented to mr. ellerthorpe a photograph portrait. [footnote 3: this brave nobleman was at scarborough during one of the most fearful and disastrous storms that ever swept the yorkshire coast. he had no sleep on the previous night on account of the storm, and on saturday he said to a friend 'i shall have a sound sleep to-night.' alas! before he closed his eyes in sleep, and while nobly endeavouring to rescue a number of drowning sailors, a huge wave carried him out to sea, and he perished in the 'mighty waters.'] chapter ix. mr. ellerthorpe's general character, death, etc. in physical stature, mr. ellerthorpe was about five feet seven inches high, and weighed about ten stones. his build was somewhat slender for a sailor. he stood erect. his countenance was hard and ruddy, and indicated long exposure to weather. his ordinary expression was indicative of kindness, blended with great firmness. when spinning his yarns, or describing his exploits, his eye kindled, and his face, lit up with smiles, was expressive of intense sympathy. to his wife (who has just followed him to the skies, july, 1880,) he proved himself a kind and provident husband, _i.e._ _houseband_, as trench renders the word. even during his wicked and drunken career he never forgot his matrimonial vow, to 'love, honour, and cherish' the partner of his life; and hence, he never but once took any portion of his regular wages to spend in drink, and the sum he then took was about fifteen shillings. of fourteen children, but four survive their parents, two sons and two daughters. the father strove hard to give them what is beyond all price--a good education. his eldest son, (who has long been on the metropolitan newspaper staff,) when a boy displayed a strong instinctive love of learning, and when, on one occasion, his father urged him to devote less time to his books, and to form the companionship of a a certain youth, he replied, 'no. he spends as much money in cigars as would buy a library, and consumes as much time in smoking them as would enable him to learn half a dozen dead languages.' [sidenote: hero's general character.] mr. ellerthorpe proved himself a good servant, discharging his duties faithfully and honourably. during fourteen years he occupied the responsible position of foreman of the humber dock gates, hull. and when it is borne in mind that hull is the third port in the kingdom, and that it is annually visited by 30,000 seamen in connection with its foreign and coasting traffic, and that, in the same time, about 20,000 small vessels, connected with the inland navigation, enter and leave the port, it will be seen that the duties of our friend were numerous and important. but the force and transparency of his character, his undoubted honesty, his indefatigable industry, and his unwearied attention to the duties of his office, won for him the confidence and respect of his employers, the esteem of his fellow workers, and the good opinion of the merchants of the port. dale brown, esq., says:- dock office, hull, _sept. 11th, 1867_. sir,--i have known mr. john ellerthorpe as an active, energetic, christian man, for upwards of eighteen years, and during the past six years he has been under my immediate control. his wonderful daring and success in saving the lives of drowning persons, have now become matters of history, and have been fully recognised by the late prime minister, lord palmerston, the royal humane society, and the local officials in hull, by whom he is best known and valued. i am, sir, yours very obediently, dale brown, _supt. dock master_. rev. henry woodcock. the following appeared in the hull newspapers, november the 9th, 1864. [sidenote: presentation to the hero.] 'presentation to the 'hero of the humber.'--on the 6th of november, 1861, a public presentation of a gold watch and a purse containing upwards of 100 guineas, was made to mr. john ellerthorpe, of hull, known thenceforth as the 'hero of the humber,' on account of his having saved twenty-nine persons from drowning. to commemorate that interesting event, as well as to add another to mr. ellerthorpe's well earned honours, a few friends met last evening at mr. rawlinson's, 'sykes head,' wellington street. after a well-served supper, mr. councillor symons, who, in the absence of mr. alderman fountain, presided, called upon mr. john corbitt (of the air and calder company), who presented to mr. ellerthorpe a purse containing twenty-three and a half guineas, subscribed by the leading shipping firms of hull. 'mr. corbitt said:--the subscription was proposed by mr. w. dyson, sen. (bannister, dyson, & co.), and has been most warmly and heartily taken up by all the leading firms, who were most ready and forward to mark their sense of the obligations of the shipping interest to mr. ellerthorpe's assiduous attention to duty, obliging disposition, and untiring activity at his post night and day (applause). all present knew how valuable those services were, and how much the dispatch of business depended upon them. it had been a pleasing duty to himself to receive the subscriptions, they were tendered in such a willing and hearty spirit (cheers). mr. corbitt then presented to mr. ellerthorpe the purse, which contained the following inscription:- [illustration] this purse, containing 23-1/2 guineas, _subscribed by trading merchants of hull_, was presented by mr. j. corbitt to mr. john ellerthorpe, for his unwearied zeal and attention to the requirements of the trade of the port by penning vessels in and out of the humber dock. nov. 8th, 1864. 'mr. ellerthorpe suitably acknowledged the presentation, and thanked mr. corbitt and the subscribers for their kindness. as for himself, he had certainly striven to secure the interests of the port, but he had only done his duty, as he hoped he ever should be able to do, without the prospect of any such reward as that. it, however, gave him unfeigned pleasure to find that anything he had done could be so highly appreciated. he hoped to live to advance the interests of the town and of commerce.--several loyal and complimentary toasts followed, and the proceedings throughout were of a most pleasant and agreeable character.' [sidenote: his declining health.] to the eye of a stranger, our friend's cheerful countenance and erect form, during the last few years of his life, indicated a robust state of health, giving the promise of a green old age. such, however, was not the case. his employment as foreman of the humber dock gates, was very arduous, exposing him to all kinds of weather, day and night, according to the tides, and he found it telling seriously upon his health. his frequent plunges into the water, in storm and in calm, at midnight as well as at midday, in times of chilling frost as well as in times of warmth, sometimes top-coated and booted, and at other times undressed, also helped to sap his naturally strong frame. [sidenote: his last affliction.] in a private note he remarked, 'it is with difficulty i can talk, at times, and my breathing is so bad, that i am now unable to address the band of hope children. the other night, and after i had been in bed about three hours, i was seized with an attack of shortness of breath which lasted four hours, and i thought i should have died in the struggle. but it pleased the lord to restore me, and since then i have felt a little better. i now suffer greatly from excitement, and need to be kept still and quiet, but my present situation does not allow me much quiet. in fact, i am afraid, at times, that i shall be forced to leave it, for i think, and so does dr. gibson, that the watching, night after night, let the weather be as it may, is too much for me. but i leave myself in the hands of god, knowing that he will never leave me nor forsake me.' dr. gibson, his medical attendant, wrote the writer thus:- hull, _26th sept., 1867_. dear sir,--i received your letter this morning, respecting john ellerthorpe, a man well known for many years past, and greatly esteemed by the people of hull, on account of his great daring, and humane and gallant conduct in saving such a large number of human lives from drowning. as his medical attendant, i regret to say, that his frequent plunges into the water, at all seasons of the year, and long exposure in wet clothes, have seriously injured his health and constitution. after the 'hero's' death the same gentleman wrote:--'mr. ellerthorpe had generously attempted to save the lives of others at the expense of abridging his own life.' mr. ellerthorpe knew the great source of religious strength and salvation, and trusting entirely in the merits of jesus christ, he found a satisfying sense of god's saving presence and power to the very last. he would often say, 'my feet are on the rock of ages. i cannot sink under such a prop, as bears the world and all things up.' his affliction, water on the chest, and an enlargement of the heart brought on by his frequent plunges into the water, and exposure to wet and cold, was protracted and very severe. he found great difficulty in breathing and had comparatively little rest, day or night, for five months. dr. gibson said to him on one occasion, 'mr. ellerthorpe, you cannot live long unless i could take out your present heart and give you a new one.' 'ah,' said he, with the utmost composure, 'that you cannot do.' often after a night of restlessness and suffering he would say to his dear wife:--'well, i have lived another night,' to which she would reply, 'o yes, and i hope you will live many more yet.' 'no,' he would say, 'i shall not live many more; i feel i am going, but it is all right.' [sidenote: his triumphant death.] during his last illness he had, as was to be expected, many visitors, but he loved those best who talked most about jesus. he seemed pained and disappointed when the conversation was about the things of earth, but he was delighted and carried away when it was about the things of heaven. when his medical adviser gave strict orders that visitors should not be allowed to see him, his pale face and lack-lustre eyes grew bright, and he imploringly said, 'do let those come who can pray and talk about jesus and heaven.' the ministers of his own denomination, the revs. g. lamb, t. ratcliffe, t. newsome, j. hodgson, f. rudd and others often visited him, and would have done so much more frequently, but for the nature of his complaint and the orders of his medical attendant. mr. john sissons, his first class leader, mr. harrison, his devoted companion and fellow labourer in the work of god, and others of his lay brethren, frequently visited him, and all testify to the happy state of soul in which they found him. the rev. j. hodgson, in one of his visits, found him in great pain, but breathing out his soul to god in short ejaculatory prayers. his old passion for the conversion of souls was strong in death. mr. hodgson told him of some good missionary meetings they had just been holding. 'and how many souls had you saved?' was the ready inquiry. 'you will soon be at home,' said mr. harrison, during his last visit, to which he replied, 'yes, i shall, my lad.' during the rev. t. newsome's visit mr. ellerthorpe expressed himself as wonderfully happy and anxiously waiting the coming of his lord. toplady's well known verse was repeated by the preacher:- 'and when i'm to die, to jesus i'll cry; for jesus hath loved me, i cannot tell why; but this i can find, we two are so joined, he'll not reign in glory and leave me behind.' 'ah,' said the dying man, now rich in holiness and ready for the skies, 'that is it.' he soon afterwards expired in the full triumph of faith, on july 15th, 1868. chapter x. the hero's funeral. the following account of the 'hero's' funeral is taken, unabridged, from _the eastern morning news_. [sidenote: his funeral.] [sidenote: the funeral procession.] all that was mortal of john ellerthorpe, 'the hero of the humber,' was on sunday consigned to the grave. well did his many noble actions entitle him to the proud and distinguished title by which he was so familiarly known. it may be questioned whether his career has any individual parallel in the world's history. the saviour of forty lives from drowning, during sixty-one years' existence, could not fail to be exalted to the position of a great hero, and the worship which was paid to his heroism assumed no exaggerated form, though it was intense and abiding. he bore his honours meekly, and his funeral partook of the character of the man, unpretending, simple, earnest. no funeral pomp, no feverish excitement, but a solemn, subdued spectacle was witnessed. the highest tribute which could be paid to departed worth was accorded to the memory of the hero of the humber. thousands of his fellow-townsmen followed the funeral _cortege_ on its way to the cemetery, and when the procession reached the last resting-place of the deceased, the number swelled into vast proportions, and a perfect consciousness of the solemnity of the event appeared to influence the conduct of the vast multitude. the silence was deep, and almost unbroken by any sound save the frequent exclamations of sincere regret. no man, however distinguished, has had more solemn homage paid to him than john ellerthorpe. there were many features of resemblance in the burial of captain gravill, and in the cemetery, not far from each other, now lie the remains of two men whose moral attributes and actions will ever stand conspicuous in the history of men. the announcement that the _cortege_ would leave the residence of the deceased at half-past twelve drew many hundreds to the house, anxious, if possible, to obtain a look at that which contained the body of him whose acquaintance numbers of them had esteemed it an honour to possess. at the time appointed the body was placed in the hearse, and the family and friends of the deceased, as they entered the coaches, were watched by hundreds who sympathised in no common degree with their deep affliction and irreparable loss. the coaches were followed by the gatemen of all the docks and others who had been associated with the deceased. mr. dumbell, the secretary of the dock company, mr. dale brown, superintendent dock master, and mr. gruby, headed the procession, thus evincing the deep respect they entertained for mr. ellerthorpe. contrary to expectation, the procession proceeded to the cemetery by the following route:--railway-street, kingston-street, edward's-place, waverly-street, thornton-street, park-street, and spring-bank. it had been expected that the procession would have gone along the market-place and whitefriargate, and thence to the place of interment, and the streets were thronged with an anxious multitude. the disappointment was very great. when the _cortege_ reached thornton-street, part of the congregation of the primitive methodist chapel at which the deceased had been in the habit of worshipping when in health, joined the procession, and at once began to sing. nothing could exceed the impression of the scene from this point. as the lowly strains arose tears were trickling down many a hard, rough face, whilst a spirit of holy quietude appeared to pervade others. few funerals have been characterised by greater impressiveness. all the avenues at the cemetery were crowded, and hundreds had been waiting or a long time to meet the procession. the funeral service was conducted by the rev. george lamb, for whom the deceased had long cherished a great affection, and it is needless to say the reverend gentleman was greatly affected. the coffin having been laid in the grave, and the burial service having been read, mr. lamb spoke as follows, amidst profound silence:-[sidenote: rev. g. lamb's address.] 'we have come here to-day, my friends, to perform the last duties over the body of the dear friend who has passed away, we doubt not, to a brighter and a better world. the hero of the humber, the man who has saved a large number of human beings from a watery grave, who has made many a family rejoice by his heroism, has himself succumbed to the hand of death. but, through the grace of the lord jesus christ he was not afraid to die. i have been frequently comforted as i have conversed with him during his last illness, and have heard him rejoice in the prospect of that hour, and seen his anxiety--yes, his anxiety to leave the present world because he had blooming hope of a brighter and better inheritance. my dear friends, you and i will soon finish our course. the great question we ought to ask ourselves individually is "am i prepared to die? if my corpse were here, where john ellerthorpe lies, where would my soul be? am i prepared for entering the mansions of everlasting bliss?" many of you know he lived a godless, prayerless and sinful life for many years, but by the gospel of the grace of god his heart became changed. he abandoned his evil ways, consecrated himself at the foot of the cross, to be the lord's for ever, and by god's saving mercy, he was enabled to hold on his way to the last, rejoicing in the prospect of that hour when he should leave the bed of affliction and this sinful world, to be carried into that clime and those blessed regions where he would be with the saved for ever. that god can change your hearts, my dear friends. oh, by the side of this open grave, may some here to-day be yielded to god; may you now consecrate yourselves and become the saved of the lord. god grant his blessing may rest upon the mourning widow and the bereaved family, and that they after the toils of the warfare of earth, may with their dear husband and father be found before the throne of god. may those who have long enjoyed the friendship of our departed brother be ultimately numbered with the blessed in in the kingdom to come.' [sidenote: farewell hymn.] before the mourners departed, the beautifully affecting hymn, beginning with 'farewell, dear friends, a long farewell,' was sung. we may state that most of the ships in the docks indicated respect by hoisting colours half-mast high.--_eastern morning news._ the end. j. horner, printer, alford. _works by the rev. h. woodcock._ wonders of grace; _or, the influence of the holy spirit manifested in upwards of 350 remarkable conversions. 2/-; 2/6._ 'favourably as mr. woodcock is already known by his previous writings, the present work will, we are persuaded, add to his reputation and increase his usefulness. the substance of the work is rich and precious almost beyond praise, and its literary workmanship bears unmistakable evidence of industry, intelligence, and judgment. its multitudinous facts, drawn from a variety of sources, are skilfully marshalled, are narrated in a lively and agreeable style, and the spirit with which it is animated is deeply religious. it is an exceptionally excellent book, as full of interest as a novel, and yet as religious as a liturgy. people of all ages and conditions will find in its pages a mass of pleasant, instructive, and wholesome reading, fitted in an eminent degree to promote their spiritual growth, and to nourish in their hearts an interest in revivals of evangelical religion.'--introductory note by the rev. c. c. m'kechnie, connexional editor. 'facts stranger than fiction stud the pages of this volume, and shed light upon the various ways in which god is pleased to draw men to himself. the work is written in a clear felicitous style, and affords about as agreeable readings as anyone can desire, while its rich illustration and forcible presentation of gospel truth, cannot fail but prove a blessing. it is in fact, as full of interest as a novel, and yet as religious as a liturgy.'--_christian ambassador._ london: s. w. partridge, 9, paternoster row; wesleyan book room, 66, paternoster row; primitive methodist book room, 6, sutton street, commercial road, e.; and of all booksellers. fifth thousand. 356 pages, cloth, 2/6; gilt edges, 3/popery unmasked: being thirty conversations between mr. daylight and mr. twilight. _in which the peculiar doctrines, morals, government, and usages of the romish church are truthfully stated from her own duly authorised works, and impartially tried by god's word, the only unerring rule of doctrine and duty._ notices and recommendations. 'this book is decidedly the best thing of the sort that has yet appeared. its range is comprehensive of the whole of the mighty subject, and it is literally crammed with fact and argument. every section is a species of moral demonstration. we defy cardinal wiseman and all his cardinals, archbishops and bishops, and clergy to boot, to refute this volume. in 350 pages we have a species of encyclopã¦dia. we know of no human hand from which popery has received a more powerful, death-dealing blow. would that a copy of this well crammed and very cheap volume might find a place in every british household.'--rev. j. campbell, d.d., in the _british standard_. 'this is a very admirable and seasonable book, displaying much reading and the soundest views. it sets forth, with much detail and in a popular and picturesque style, the many evils of popery' and the present danger of britain from this insidious foe. it would be difficult to find a better text-book for popular lectures and young men's classes, on the subject, and we cordially recommend it.'--_protestant bulwark._ 'a sensible, smart, and clever exposure of popery, with its irrational assumptions, and soul-destroying errors. the work is timely, and its circulation will do good.'--rev. w. cooke, d.d. * * * * * the brave young sufferers, 6d.; cloth, 9d. * * * * * the three soldiers, 6d.; cloth, 9d. 'the stories are full of pathos and moral beauty, and are in every respect likely to draw the hearts of the young to the love of god and goodness. we hope our sunday school managers will keep this little book in mind when providing their anniversary prizes.--rev. c. mckechnie, _primitive methodist magazine_. * * * * * student's handbook to scripture doctrines, 7s. 6d.; gilt, 8s. 6d. _works by sophia woodcock._ sayings and doings of good boys and girls. 160pp., limp cloth, 1s.; boards, 1s. 3d.; gilt edges, 1s. 6d. contents:--the new heart; prayer; true happiness; the right motive; for christ's sake; stretch it a bit, or true charity; mutual forbearance; right words; perseverance; the little boy and his lost shilling; the bible better than gold; the little cripple; the patient sufferer, &c., &c. * * * * * children leading adults to christ. 160pp., limp cloth, 1s.; boards, 1s. 3d.; gilt edges, 1s. 6d. contents:--christ for evermore; children leading adults to christ; the happiness of children leading adults to christ; praying children leading adults to christ; casual remarks of children leading adults to christ; kind words of children leading adults to christ; children leading sorrowful adults to christ; singing children leading adults to christ; influence of good examples leading adults to christ; dying children leading adults to christ. 'miss woodcock's charming little volumes are everything that could be desired. it would be difficult to find collections of stories and lessons at once so well suited to the tastes and capacities of children, and so likely to plant and foster right principles, and to mould and build up a good and noble character.'--rev. c. c. m'kechnie. 'our respected author is scarcely _fair_ in presenting this capital collection to the young of her own denomination only, as indicated in her preface. the excellence of her work commends it to the young of all denominations.'--_the christian age._ 'this little book is remarkably well adapted to convey moral and religious instruction to boys and girls from six to ten years of age. the stories are just of such a sort, and told in such a way, as are most likely to interest and impress the heart when the heart is most susceptible of impression.'--_christian ambassador._ 'our children are delighted with 'gems,' and we sincerely hope that it will have the large sale that it deserves.'--_dr. lamb, hull._ 'i can truly say of 'gems' that it is one of those books, interesting, pleasing, and profitable, that need multiplying to prevent youthful readers from getting an appetite for that senseless, vicious literature now so temptingly offered to them. if it be read as extensively as it deserves to be, by our young people, the authoress, i am sure, will be abundantly encouraged.'--_rev. joseph wood, m.a., secretary of the sunday school union._ london: wesleyan book room, 66, paternoster row: primitive methodist book room, 6, sutton street, commercial road, e.; and of all booksellers. [transcriber's notes: contractions are inconsistently used, such as both "did'nt" and "didn't," and have been retained as in the original in both cases. there were many printers errors and typos in this book. the obvious ones have been silently corrected. others that might be cases of old spellings have been retained. page 19--i suspect "of" is missing in the phrase, "that he would have been unworthy (of) the name of a christian" but i did not change it in the text. page 120--the paragraph that begins "after the 'hero's' death" was originally included in the preceding blockquote, but it doesn't seem to be part of the quoted letter, so i moved it out into the surrounding text.] produced from scanned images of public domain material from the google print project.) price $6.00 62d congress senate {document _2d session_ {no. 933 loss of the steamship "titanic" report of a formal investigation into the circumstances attending the foundering on april 15, 1912, of the british steamship "titanic," of liverpool, after striking ice in or near latitude 41° 46´ n., longitude 50° 14´ w., north atlantic ocean, as conducted by the british government [illustration: colophon] presented by mr. smith of michigan august 20, 1912.--ordered to be printed with illustrations washington 1912 table of contents. page. introduction 7 i. description of the ship 10 the white star co. 10 the steamship titanic 11 detailed description 13 water-tight compartments 14 decks and accommodation 16 structure 23 life-saving appliances 25 pumping arrangements 26 electrical installation 27 machinery 29 general 31 crew and passengers 32 ii. account of the ship's journey across the atlantic, the messages she received, and the disaster 32 the sailing orders 32 the route followed 33 ice messages received 35 speed of the ship 39 the weather conditions 40 action that should have been taken 40 the collision 41 iii. description of the damage to the ship and of its gradual and final effect, with observations thereon 42 extent of the damage 42 time in which the damage was done 42 the flooding in the first 10 minutes 42 gradual effect of the damage 43 final effect of the damage 44 observations 45 effect of additional subdivision upon floatation 46 iv. account of the saving and rescue of those who survived 48 the boats 48 conduct of sir c. duff gordon and mr. ismay 53 the third-class passengers 53 means taken to procure assistance 54 the rescue by the steamship "carpathia" 54 numbers saved 55 v. the circumstances in connection with the steamship "californian" 56 vi. the board of trade's administration 60 vii. finding of the court 77 viii. recommendations 85 water-tight subdivision 85 lifeboats and rafts 86 manning the boats and boat drills 87 general 87 report on the loss of the steamship "titanic." the merchants shipping acts, 1894 to 1906. in the matter of the formal investigation held at the scottish hall, buckingham gate, westminster, on may 2, 3, 7, 8, 9, 10, 14, 15, 16, 17, 20, 21, 22, 23, and 24, june 4, 5, 6, 7, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 17, 18, 19, 21, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, and 29; at the caxton hall, caxton street, westminster, on july 1 and 3; and at the scottish hall, buckingham gate, westminster, on july 30, 1912, before the right hon. lord mersey, wreck commissioner, assisted by rear admiral the hon. s. a. gough-calthorpe, c. v. o., r. n.; capt. a. w. clarke; commander f. c. a. lyon, r. n. r.; prof. j. h. biles, d. sc., ll. d. and mr. e. c. chaston, r. n. r., as assessors, into the circumstances attending the loss of the steamship _titanic_, of liverpool, and the loss of 1,490 lives in the north atlantic ocean, in lat. 41° 46´ n., long. 50° 14´ w. on april 15 last. report of the court. the court, having carefully inquired into the circumstances of the above-mentioned shipping casualty, finds, for the reasons appearing in the annex hereto, that the loss of the said ship was due to collision with an iceberg, brought about by the excessive speed at which the ship was being navigated. dated this 30th day of july, 1912. mersey, _wreck commissioner_. we concur in the above report. arthur gough-calthorpe, a. w. clarke, f. c. a. lyon, j. h. biles, edward c. chaston, _assessors_. loss of the steamship "titanic." report of a formal investigation into the circumstances attending the foundering on april 15, 1912, of the british steamship titanic, of liverpool, after striking ice in or near latitude 41° 46´ n., longitude 50° 14´ w., north atlantic ocean, whereby loss of life ensued. annex to the report. introduction. on april 23, 1912, the lord chancellor appointed a wreck commissioner under the merchant shipping acts, and on april 26 the home secretary nominated five assessors. on april 30 the board of trade requested that a formal investigation of the circumstances attending the loss of the steamship _titanic_ should be held, and the court accordingly commenced to sit on may 2. since that date there have been 37 public sittings, at which 97 witnesses have been examined, while a large number of documents, charts, and plans have been produced. the 26 questions formulated by the board of trade, which are set out in detail below, appear to cover all the circumstances to be inquired into. briefly summarized, they deal with the history of the ship, her design, construction, size, speed, general equipment, life-saving apparatus, wireless installation, her orders and course, her passengers, her crew, their training, organization and discipline; they request an account of the casualty, its cause and effect, and of the means taken for saving those on board the ship; and they call for a report on the efficiency of the rules and regulations made by the board of trade under the merchant shipping acts and on their administration, and, finally, for any recommendations to obviate similar disasters which may appear to the court to be desirable. the 26 questions, as subsequently amended, are here attached: 1. when the _titanic_ left queenstown on or about april 11 last-(_a_) what was the total number of persons employed in any capacity on board her, and what were their respective ratings? (_b_) what was the total number of her passengers, distinguishing sexes and classes, and discriminating between adults and children? 2. before leaving queenstown on or about april 11 last did the _titanic_ comply with the requirements of the merchant shipping acts, 1894-1906, and the rules and regulations made thereunder with regard to the safety and otherwise of "passenger steamers" and "emigrant ships"? 3. in the actual design and construction of the _titanic_ what special provisions were made for the safety of the vessel and the lives of those on board in the event of collisions and other casualties? 4. was the _titanic_ sufficiently and efficiently officered and manned? were the watches of the officers and crew usual and proper? was the _titanic_ supplied with proper charts? 5. what was the number of the boats of any kind on board the _titanic_? were the arrangements for manning and launching the boats on board the _titanic_ in case of emergency proper and sufficient? had a boat drill been held on board; and, if so, when? what was the carrying capacity of the respective boats? 6. what installations for receiving and transmitting messages by wireless telegraphy were on board the _titanic_? how many operators were employed on working such installations? were the installations in good and effective working order, and were the number of operators sufficient to enable messages to be received and transmitted continuously by day and night? 7. at or prior to the sailing of the _titanic_ what, if any, instructions as to navigation were given to the master or known by him to apply to her voyage? were such instructions, if any, safe, proper, and adequate, having regard to the time of year and dangers likely to be encountered during the voyage? 8. what was in fact the track taken by the _titanic_ in crossing the atlantic ocean? did she keep to the track usually followed by liners on voyages from the united kingdom to new york in the month of april? are such tracks safe tracks at that time of the year? had the master any, and, if so, what, discretion as regards the track to be taken? 9. after leaving queenstown on or about april 11 last did information reach the _titanic_ by wireless messages or otherwise by signals of the existence of ice in certain latitudes? if so, what were such messages or signals and when were they received, and in what position or positions was the ice reported to be, and was the ice reported in or near the track actually being followed by the _titanic_? was her course altered in consequence of receiving such information; and, if so, in what way? what replies to such messages or signals did the _titanic_ send, and at what times? 10. if at the times referred to in the last preceding question or later the _titanic_ was warned of or had reason to suppose she would encounter ice, at what time might she have reasonably expected to encounter it? was a good and proper lookout for ice kept on board? were any, and, if so, what, directions given to vary the speed; if so, were they carried out? 11. were binoculars provided for and used by the lookout men? is the use of them necessary or usual in such circumstances? had the _titanic_ the means of throwing searchlights around her? if so, did she make use of them to discover ice? should searchlights have been provided and used? 12. what other precautions were taken by the _titanic_ in anticipation of meeting ice? were they such as are usually adopted by vessels being navigated in waters where ice may be expected to be encountered? 13. was ice seen and reported by anybody on board the _titanic_ before the casualty occurred? if so, what measures were taken by the officer on watch to avoid it? were they proper measures and were they promptly taken? 14. what was the speed of the _titanic_ shortly before and at the moment of the casualty? was such speed excessive under the circumstances? 15. what was the nature of the casualty which happened to the _titanic_ at or about 11.45 p. m. on april 14 last? in what latitude and longitude did the casualty occur? 16. what steps were taken immediately on the happening of the casualty? how long after the casualty was its seriousness realized by those in charge of the vessel? what steps were then taken? what endeavors were made to save the lives of those on board and to prevent the vessel from sinking? 17. was proper discipline maintained on board after the casualty occurred? 18. what messages for assistance were sent by the _titanic_ after the casualty, and at what times, respectively? what messages were received by her in response, and at what times, respectively? by what vessels were the messages that were sent by the _titanic_ received, and from what vessels did she receive answers? what vessels other than the _titanic_ sent or received messages at or shortly after the casualty in connection with such casualty? what were the vessels that sent or received such messages? were any vessels prevented from going to the assistance of the _titanic_ or her boats owing to messages received from the _titanic_ or owing to any erroneous messages being sent or received? in regard to such erroneous messages, from what vessels were they sent and by what vessels were they received, and at what times, respectively? 19. was the apparatus for lowering the boats on the _titanic_ at the time of the casualty in good working order? were the boats swung out, filled, lowered, or otherwise put into the water and got away under proper superintendence? were the boats sent away in seaworthy condition and properly manned, equipped, and provisioned? did the boats, whether those under davits or otherwise, prove to be efficient and serviceable for the purpose of saving life? 20. what was the number of (_a_) passengers, (_b_) crew taken away in each boat on leaving the vessel? how was this number made up, having regard to (1) sex, (2) class, (3) rating? how many were children and how many adults? did each boat carry its full load; and if not, why not? 21. how many persons on board the _titanic_ at the time of the casualty were ultimately rescued and by what means? how many lost their lives prior to the arrival of the steamship _carpathia_ in new york? what was the number of passengers distinguishing between men and women and adults and children of the first, second, and third classes, respectively, who were saved? what was the number of the crew, discriminating their ratings and sex, that were saved? what is the proportion which each of these numbers bears to the corresponding total number on board immediately before the casualty? what reason is there for the disproportion, if any? 22. what happened to the vessel from the happening of the casualty until she foundered? 23. where and at what time did the _titanic_ founder? 24. what was the cause of the loss of the _titanic_, and of the loss of life which thereby ensued or occurred? what vessels had the opportunity of rendering assistance to the _titanic_; and if any, how was it that assistance did not reach the _titanic_ before the steamship _carpathia_ arrived? was the construction of the vessel and its arrangements such as to make it difficult for any class of passengers or any portion of the crew to take full advantage of any of the existing provisions for safety? 25. when the _titanic_ left queenstown, on or about april 11 last, was she properly constructed and adequately equipped as a passenger steamer and emigrant ship for the atlantic service? 26. the court is invited to report upon the rules and regulations made under the merchant shipping acts, 1894-1906, and the administration of those acts and of such rules and regulations, so far as the consideration thereof is material to this casualty, and to make any recommendations or suggestions that it may think fit, having regard to the circumstances of the casualty with a view to promoting the safety of vessels and persons at sea. in framing this report it has seemed best to divide it into sections in the following manner: first. a description of the ship as she left southampton on april 10 and of her equipment, crew, and passengers. second. an account of her journey across the atlantic, of the messages she received and of the disaster. third. a description of the damage to the ship and of its gradual and final effect with observations thereon. fourth. an account of the saving and rescue of those who survived. fifth. the circumstances in connection with the steamship _californian_. sixth. an account of the board of trade's administration. seventh. the finding of the court on the questions submitted; and eighth. the recommendations held to be desirable. i.--description of the ship. the white star line. the _titanic_ was one of a fleet of 13 ships employed in the transport of passengers, mails, and cargo between great britain and the united states, the usual ports of call for the service in which she was engaged being southampton, cherbourg, plymouth, queenstown, and new york. the owners are the oceanic steam navigation co. (ltd.), usually known as the white star line, a british registered company, with a capital of £750,000, all paid up, the directors being mr. j. bruce ismay (chairman), the right hon. lord pirrie, and mr. h. a. sanderson. the company are owners of 29 steamers and tenders; they have a large interest in 13 other steamers, and also own a training sailing ship for officers. all the shares of the company, with the exception of eight held by messrs. e. c. grenfell, vivian h. smith, w. s. m. burns, james gray, j. bruce ismay, h. a. sanderson, a. kerr, and the right hon. lord pirrie, have, since the year 1902, been held by the international navigation co. (ltd.), of liverpool, a british registered company, with a capital of £700,000, of which all is paid up, the directors being mr. j. bruce ismay (chairman), and messrs. h. a. sanderson, charles f. torrey, and h. concannon. the debentures of the company, £1,250,000, are held mainly, if not entirely, in the united kingdom by the general public. the international navigation co. (ltd.), of liverpool, in addition to holding the above-mentioned shares of the oceanic steam navigation co. (ltd.), is also the owner of-1. practically the whole of the issued share capital of the british & north atlantic steam navigation co. (ltd.), and the mississippi & dominion steamship co. (ltd.), (the dominion line). 2. practically the whole of the issued share capital of the atlantic transport co. (ltd), (the atlantic transport line). 3. practically the whole of the issued ordinary share capital and about one-half of the preference share capital of frederick leyland & co. (ltd.), (the leyland line). as against the above-mentioned shares and other property, the international navigation co. (ltd.) have issued share lien certificates for £25,000,000. both the shares and share lien certificates of the international navigation co. (ltd.) are now held by the international mercantile marine co. of new jersey, or by trustees for the holders of its debenture bonds. the steamship "titanic." the _titanic_ was a three-screw vessel of 46,328 tons gross and 21,831 net register tons, built by messrs. harland & wolff for the white star line service between southampton and new york. she was registered as a british steamship at the port of liverpool, her official number being 131,428. her registered dimensions were- feet length 852.50 breadth 92.50 depth from top of keel to top of beam at lowest point of sheer of c deck, the highest deck which extends continuously from bow to stern 64.75 depth of hold 59.58 height from b to c deck 9.00 height from a to b deck 9.00 height from boat to a deck 9.50 height from boat deck to water line amidships at time of accident, about 60.50 ====== displacement at 34 feet 7 inches is tons 52,310 the propelling machinery consisted of two sets of four-cylinder reciprocating engines, each driving a wing propeller, and a turbine driving the center propeller. the registered horsepower of the propelling machinery was 50,000. the power which would probably have been developed was at least 55,000. _structural arrangements._--the structural arrangements of the _titanic_ consisted primarily of-(1) an outer shell of steel plating, giving form to the ship up to the top decks. (2) _steel decks._--these were enumerated as follows: ---------------------------------------+---------+------------------ | | distance | height | from 34 feet | to next | 7 inches water | deck | line amidships. | above. +---------+-------- | | above. | below. ---------------------------------------+---------+---------+-------- |_ft. in._|_ft. in._|_ft. in._ boat deck, length about 500 feet | | 58 0 | a deck, length about 500 feet | 9 6 | 48 6 | b deck, length about 550 feet, with | | | 125 feet forecastle and 105 feet poop| 9 0 | 39 6 | c deck, whole length of ship | 9 0 | 30 6 | d deck, whole length of ship | 10 6 | 20 0 | | |(tapered | | | down at | | | ends.) | e deck, whole length of ship | 9 0 | 11 0 | f deck, whole length of ship | 8 6 | 2 6 | g deck, 190 feet forward of boilers, | | | 210 feet aft of machinery | 8 0 | | 5 6 orlop deck, 190 feet forward of | | | boilers, 210 feet aft of machinery | 8 0 | | 13 6 ---------------------------------------+---------+--------------------c, d, e, and f were continuous from end to end of the ship. the decks above these were continuous for the greater part of the ship, extending from amidships both forward and aft. the boat deck and a deck each had two expansion joints, which broke the strength continuity. the decks below were continuous outside the boiler and engine rooms and extended to the ends of the ship. except in small patches none of these decks was water-tight in the steel parts, except the weather deck and the orlop deck aft. (3) _transverse vertical bulkheads._--there were 15 transverse water-tight bulkheads, by which the ship was divided in the direction of her length into 16 separate compartments. these bulkheads are referred to as "a" to "p," commencing forward. the water-tightness of the bulkheads extended up to one or other of the decks d or e; the bulkhead a extended to c, but was only water-tight to d deck. the position of the d, e, and f decks, which were the only ones to which the water-tight bulkheads extended, was in relation to the water line (34 feet 7 inches draft) approximately as follows: --------+------------------------------ | height above water line | (34 feet 7 inches). |---------+-------------------- | lowest | | | part | | | amid | at bow. | at stern. | ships. | | --------+---------+---------+---------- |_ft. in._|_ft. in._| _ft. in._ d | 20 0 | 33 0 | 25 0 e | 11 0 | 24 0 | 16 0 f | 2 6 | 15 6 | 7 6 --------+---------+--------------------these were the three of the four decks which, as already stated, were continuous all fore and aft. the other decks, g and orlop, which extended only along a part of the ship, were spaced about 8 feet apart. the g deck forward was about 7 feet 6 inches above the water line at the bow and about level with the water line at bulkhead d, which was at the fore end of boilers. the g deck aft and the orlop deck at both ends of the vessel were below the water line. the orlop deck abaft of the turbine engine room and forward of the collision bulkhead was water-tight. elsewhere, except in very small patches, the decks were not water-tight. all the decks had large openings or hatchways in them in each compartment, so that water could rise freely through them. there was also a water-tight inner bottom, or tank top, about 5 feet above the top of the keel, which extended for the full breadth of the vessel from bulkhead a to 20 feet before bulkhead p, i.e., for the whole length of the vessel except a small distance at each end. the transverse water-tight divisions of this double bottom practically coincided with the water-tight transverse bulkheads; there was an additional water-tight division under the middle of the reciprocating engine-room compartment (between bulkheads k and l). there were three longitudinal water-tight divisions in the double bottom, one at the center of the ship, extending for about 670 feet, and one on each side, extending for 447 feet. all the transverse bulkheads were carried up water-tight to at least the height of the e deck. bulkheads a and b, and all bulkheads from k (90 feet abaft amidships) to p, both inclusive, further extended water-tight up to the underside of d deck. a bulkhead further extended to c deck, but it was water-tight only to d deck. bulkheads a and b forward, and p aft, had no openings in them. all the other bulkheads had openings in them, which were fitted with water-tight doors. bulkheads d to o, both inclusive, had each a vertical sliding water-tight door at the level of the floor of the engine and boiler rooms for the use of the engineers and firemen. on the orlop deck there was one door, on bulkhead n, for access to the refrigerator rooms. on g deck there were no water-tight doors in the bulkheads. on both the f and e decks nearly all the bulkheads had water-tight doors, mainly for giving communication between the different blocks of passenger accommodation. all the doors, except those in the engine-rooms and boiler rooms, were horizontal sliding doors workable by hand, both at the door and at the deck above. there were 12 vertical sliding water-tight doors which completed the water-tightness of bulkheads d to o, inclusive, in the boiler and engine rooms. those were capable of being simultaneously closed from the bridge. the operation of closing was intended to be preceded by the ringing from the bridge of a warning bell. these doors were closed by the bringing into operation of an electric current and could not be opened until this current was cut off from the bridge. when this was done the doors could only be opened by a mechanical operation manually worked separately at each door. they could, however, be individually lowered again by operating a lever at the door. in addition, they would be automatically closed, if open, should water enter the compartment. this operation was done in each case by means of a float, actuated by the water, which was in either of the compartments which happened to be in the process of being flooded. there were no sluice valves or means of letting water from one compartment to another. detailed description. the following is a more detailed description of the vessel, her passenger and crew accommodation, and her machinery. water-tight compartments. the following table shows the decks to which the bulkheads extended, and the number of doors in them: +---------+---------+------------+---------+-------+-------+ | | | engine | | | | | | extends | and boiler | | | | |bulkhead | up to |spaces (all |orlop to |f to e |e to d | | letter. | under| controlled |g deck. | deck. | deck. | | | side of | from | | | | | | deck. | bridge). | | | | +---------+---------+------------+---------+-------+-------+ | a | c | ... | ... | ... | ... | | b | d | ... | ... | ... | ... | | c | e | ... | ... | 1 | ... | | d | e | [1]1 | ... | 1 | ... | | e | e | [2]1 | ... | ... | ... | | f | e | [2]1 | ... | 2 | ... | | g | e | [2]1 | ... | ... | ... | | h | e | [2]1 | ... | 2 | ... | | j | e | [2]1 | ... | 2 | ... | | k | d | 1 | ... | ... | 2 | | l | d | 1 | ... | ... | 2 | | m | d | 1 | ... | 1 | 2 | | n | d | 1 | 1 | 1 | 2 | | o | d | 1 | ... | ... | 1 | | p | d | ... | ... | ... | ... | +---------+---------+------------+---------+-------+-------+ the following table shows the actual contents of each separate water-tight compartment. the compartments are shown in the left column, the contents of each compartment being read off horizontally. the contents of each water-tight compartment is separately given in the deck space in which it is: -------+---------+----------+----------+-----------+-----------+-------- | length | | | | | |of each | | | | | | water | | orlop | | | | tight | | | | | water|compart| | to g | g to f | f to e | e to d tight | ment | | | | | compart-| in fore | hold. | deck. | deck. | deck. | deck. ment | and aft | | | | | | direc | | | | | | tion. | | | | | -------+---------+----------+----------+-----------+-----------+-------- |_feet._ | | | | | bow to a| 46 |forepeak |forepeak |forepeak |forepeak |forepeak | |tank (not |storeroom.|storeroom. |storeroom. |storeroom. | |used | | | | | |excepting | | | | | |for | | | | | |trimming | | | | | |ship). | | | | a-b | 45 |cargo |cargo. |living |living |living | | | |spaces for |spaces for |spaces for | | | |firemen, |firemen. |firemen. | | | |etc. | | b-c | 51 | do | do |third-class|third-class|third-class | | | |passenger |passenger |passenger | | | |accommo |accommo |and seamen's | | | |dation. |dation. |spaces. c-d | 51 |alternati-|luggage |baggage, | do |third-class | |vely coal |and |squash | |passenger | |and cargo.|mails. |rackets, & | |accommo | | | |third-class| |dation. | | | |passengers.| | d-e | 54 |no. 6 |no. 6 |coal and | do |first-class | |boiler |boiler |boiler | |passenger | |room. |room. |casing. | |accommo | | | | | |dation. e-f | 57 |no. 5 |no. 5 |coal bunker|linen rooms| do. | |boiler |boiler |and boiler |and | | |room. |room. |casing and |swimming | | | | |swimming |bath. | | | | |bath. | | f-g | 57 |no. 4 |no. 4 |coal bunker|steward's, |first-class | |boiler |boiler | and boiler| turkish | and | |room. |room. | casing. | baths, | stewards. | | | | | etc. | g-h | 57 |no. 3 |no. 3 | do. | third |first and | |boiler |boiler | | class | second | |room. |room. | | saloon. | class and | | | | | | stewards. h-j | 60 |no. 2 |no. 2 | do. | do. |first class. | |boiler |boiler | | | | |room. |room. | | | j-k | 35 |no. 1 |no. 1 | do. |third-class|first class | |boiler |boiler | | galley, | and | |room. |room. | | stewards, | stewards. | | | | | etc. | k-l | 69 |recipro |recipro |reciprocat-|engineers' |first class | | cating | cating |ing-engine | and | and | | engine | engine |room | recipro | engineers' | |room. |room. |casing, | cating | mess, etc. | | | | workshop | engine | | | | | and | casing. | | | | | engineers'| | | | | | stores. | | l-m | 57 |turbine |turbine |turbine |second |second class | |engine |engine |engine room|class |and stewards | |room. |room. |casing and | turbine | etc. | | | | small |engine room| | | | | stewards' | casing. | | | | | stores. | | m-n | 63 |electric|provisions|provisions.|second |second and | |engine |and elect-| |class |third class. | |room. |ric engine| | | | | | casing. | | | n-o | 54 |tunnel |refrigera-|third class| do | do. | | |ted cargo.| | | o-p | 57 | do |cargo | do |third class|third class. p to | |afterpeak |afterpeak |stores |stores |stores. stern | | tank for | tank for | | | | | trimming | trimming | | | | | ship. | ship. | | | -------+---------+----------+----------+-----------+-----------+-----------the vessel was constructed under survey of the british board of trade for a passenger certificate, and also to comply with the american immigration laws. steam was supplied from six entirely independent groups of boilers in six separate water-tight compartments. the after boiler room no. 1 contained five single-ended boilers. four other boiler rooms, nos. 2, 3, 4, and 5, each contained five double-ended boilers. the forward boiler room, no. 6, contained four double-ended boilers. the reciprocating engines and most of the auxiliary machinery were in a seventh separate water-tight compartment aft of the boilers; the low-pressure turbine, the main condensers, and the thrust blocks of the reciprocating engine were in an eighth separate water-tight compartment. the main electrical machinery was in a ninth separate water-tight compartment immediately abaft the turbine engine room. two emergency steam-driven dynamos were placed on the d deck, 21 feet above the level of the load water line. these dynamos were arranged to take their supply of steam from any of the three of the boiler rooms nos. 2, 3, and 5, and were intended to be available in the event of the main dynamo room being flooded. the ship was equipped with the following: (1) wireless telegraphy. (2) submarine signaling. (3) electric lights and power systems. (4) telephones for communication between the different working positions in the vessel. in addition to the telephones, the means of communication included engine and docking telegraphs, and duplicate or emergency engine-room telegraph, to be used in the event of any accident to the ordinary telegraph. (5) three electric elevators for taking passengers in the first class up to a deck, immediately below the boat deck, and one in the second class for taking passengers up to the boat deck. (6) four electrically driven boat winches on the boat deck for hauling up the boats. (7) life-saving appliances to the requirements of the board of trade, including boats and life belts. (8) steam whistles on the two foremost funnels, worked on the willett-bruce system of automatic control. (9) navigation appliances, including kelvin's patent sounding machines for finding the depth of water under the ship without stopping; walker's taffrail log for determining the speed of the ship; and flash signal lamps fitted above the shelters at each of the navigating bridge for morse signaling with other ships. decks and accommodation. the boat deck was an uncovered deck, on which the boats were placed. at its lowest point it was about 92 feet 6 inches above the keel. the overall length of this deck was about 500 feet. the forward end of it was fitted to serve as the navigating bridge of the vessel and was 190 feet from the bow. on the after end of the bridge was a wheel house, containing the steering wheel and a steering compass. the chart room was immediately abaft this. on the starboard side of the wheel house and funnel casing were the navigating room, the captain's quarters, and some officers' quarters. on the port side were the remainder of the officers' quarters. at the middle line abaft the forward funnel casing were the wireless-telegraphy rooms and the operators' quarters. the top of the officers' house formed a short deck. the connections from the marconi aerials were made on this deck, and two of the collapsible boats were placed on it. aft of the officers' house were the first-class passengers' entrance and stairways and other adjuncts to the passengers' accommodation below. these stairways had a minimum effective width of 8 feet. they had assembling landings at the level of each deck, and three elevators communicating from e to a decks, but not to the boat deck, immediately on the fore side of the stairway. all the boats except two engelhardt life rafts were carried on this deck. there were seven lifeboats on each side, 30 feet long, 9 feet wide. there was an emergency cutter, 25 feet long, on each side at the fore end of the deck. abreast of each cutter was an engelhardt life raft. one similar raft was carried on the top of the officers' house on each side. in all there were 14 lifeboats, 2 cutters, and 4 engelhardt life rafts. the forward group of four boats and one engelhardt raft were placed on each side of the deck alongside the officers' quarters and the first-class entrance. further aft at the middle line on this deck was the special platform for the standard compass. at the after end of this deck was an entrance house for second-class passengers with a stairway and elevator leading directly down to f deck. there were two vertical iron ladders at the after end of this deck leading to a deck for the use of the crew. alongside and immediately forward of the second-class entrance was the after group of lifeboats, four on each side of the ship. in addition to the main stairways mentioned there was a ladder on each side amidships giving access from the a deck below. at the forward end of the boat deck there was on each side a ladder leading up from a deck with a landing there, from which by a ladder access to b deck could be obtained direct. between the reciprocating engine casing and the third funnel casing there was a stewards' stairway, which communicated with all the decks below as far as e deck. outside the deck houses was promenading space for first-class passengers. _a deck._--the next deck below the boat deck was a deck. it extended over a length of about 500 feet. on this deck was a long house extending nearly the whole length of the deck. it was of irregular shape, varying in width from 24 feet to 72 feet. at the forward end it contained 34 staterooms and abaft these a number of public rooms, etc., for first-class passengers, including two first-class entrances and stairway, reading room, lounge, and the smoke room. outside the deck house was a promenade for first-class passengers. the forward end of it on both sides of the ship, below the forward group of boats and for a short distance farther aft, was protected against the weather by a steel screen, 192 feet long, with large windows in it. in addition to the stairway described on the boat deck, there was near the after end of the a deck and immediately forward of the first-class smoke room another first-class entrance, giving access as far down as c deck. the second-class stairway at the after end of this deck (already described under the boat deck) had no exit on to the a deck. the stewards' staircase opened onto this deck. _b deck._--the next lowest deck was b deck, which constituted the top deck of the strong structure of the vessel, the decks above and the side plating between them being light plating. this deck extended continuously for 550 feet. there were breaks or wells both forward and aft of it, each about 50 feet long. it was terminated by a poop and forecastle. on this deck were placed the principal staterooms of the vessel, 97 in number, having berths for 198 passengers, and aft of these was the first-class stairway and reception room, as well as the restaurant for first-class passengers and its pantry and galley. immediately aft of this restaurant were the second-class stairway and smoke room. at the forward end of the deck outside the house was an assembling area, giving access by the ladders, previously mentioned, leading directly to the boat deck. from this same space a ladderway led to the forward third-class promenade on c deck. at the after end of it were two ladders giving access to the after third-class promenade on c deck. at the after end of this deck, at the middle line, was placed another second-class stairway, which gave access to c, d, e, f, and g decks. at the forward end of the vessel, on the level of the b deck, was situated the forecastle deck, which was 125 feet long. on it were placed the gear for working the anchors and cables and for warping (or moving) the ship in dock. at the after end, on the same level, was the poop deck, about 105 feet long, which carried the after-warping appliances and was a third-class promenading space. arranged above the poop was a light docking bridge, with telephone, telegraphs, etc., communicating to the main navigating bridge forward. _c deck._--the next lowest deck was c deck. this was the highest deck which extended continuously from bow to stern. at the forward end of it, under the forecastle, was placed the machinery required for working the anchors and cables and for the warping of the ship referred to on b deck above. there were also the crew's galley and the seamen's and firemen's mess-room accommodation, where their meals were taken. at the after end of the forecastle, at each side of the ship, were the entrances to the third-class spaces below. on the port side, at the extreme after end and opening onto the deck, was the lamp room. the break in b deck between the forecastle and the first-class passenger quarters formed a well about 50 feet in length, which enabled the space under it on c deck to be used as a third-class promenade. this space contained two hatchways, the no. 2 hatch, and the bunker hatch. the latter of these hatchways gave access to the space allotted to the first and second class baggage hold, the mails, specie and parcel room, and to the lower hold, which was used for cargo or coals. abaft of this well there was a house 450 feet long and extending for the full breadth of the ship. it contained 148 staterooms for first class, besides service rooms of various kinds. on this deck, at the forward first-class entrance, were the purser's office and the inquiry office, where passengers' telegrams were received for sending by the marconi apparatus. exit doors through the ship's side were fitted abreast of this entrance. abaft the after end of this long house was a promenade at the ship's side for second-class passengers, sheltered by bulwarks and bulkheads. in the middle of the promenade stood the second-class library. the two second-class stairways were at the ends of the library, so that from the promenade access was obtained at each end to a second-class main stairway. there was also access by a door from this space into each of the alleyways in the first-class accommodation on each side of the ship and by two doors at the after end into the after well. this after well was about 50 feet in length and contained two hatchways called no. 5 and no. 6 hatches. abaft this well, under the poop, was the main third-class entrance for the after end of the vessel leading directly down to g deck, with landings and access at each deck. the effective width of this stairway was 16 feet to e deck. from e to f it was 8 feet wide. aft of this entrance on b deck were the third-class smoke room and the general room. between these rooms and the stern was the steam steering gear and the machinery for working the after-capstan gear, which was used for warping the after end of the vessel. the steam steering gear had three cylinders. the engines were in duplicate to provide for the possibility of breakdown of one set. _d deck._--the general height from d deck to c deck was 10 feet 6 inches, this being reduced to 9 feet at the forward end, and 9 feet 6 inches at the after end, the taper being obtained gradually by increasing the sheer of the d deck. the forward end of this deck provided accommodation for 108 firemen, who were in two separate watches. there was the necessary lavatory accommodation, abaft the firemen's quarters at the sides of the ship. on each side of the middle line immediately abaft the firemen's quarters there was a vertical spiral staircase leading to the forward end of a tunnel, immediately above the tank top, which extended from the foot of the staircase to the forward stokehole, so that the firemen could pass direct to their work without going through any passenger accommodation or over any passenger decks. on d deck abaft of this staircase was the third class promenade space which was covered in by c deck. from this promenade space there were 4 separate ladderways with 2 ladders, 4 feet wide to each. one ladderway on each side forward led to c deck, and one, the starboard, led to e deck and continued to f deck as a double ladder and to g deck as a single ladder. the two ladderways at the after end led to e deck on both sides and to f deck on the port side. abaft this promenade space came a block of 50 first-class staterooms. this surrounded the forward funnel. the main first-class reception room and dining saloon were aft of these rooms and surrounded the no. 2 funnel. the reception room and staircase occupied 83 feet of the length of the ship. the dining saloon occupied 112 feet, and was between the second and third funnels. abaft this came the first-class pantry, which occupied 56 feet of the length of the ship. the reciprocating engine hatch came up through this pantry. aft of the first-class pantry, the galley, which provides for both first and second class passengers, occupied 45 feet of the length of the ship. aft of this were the turbine engine hatch and the emergency dynamos. abaft of and on the port side of this hatch were the second-class pantry and other spaces used for the saloon service of the passengers. on the starboard side abreast of these there was a series of rooms used for hospitals and their attendants. these spaces occupied about 54 feet of the length. aft of these was the second-class saloon occupying 70 feet of the length. in the next 88 feet of length there were 38 second-class rooms and the necessary baths and lavatories. from here to the stern was accommodation for third-class passengers and the main third-class lavatories for the passengers in the after end of the ship. the water-tight bulkheads come up to this deck throughout the length from the stern as far forward as the bulkhead dividing the after boiler room from the reciprocating engine room. the water-tight bulkhead of the two compartments abaft the stem was carried up to this deck. _e deck._--the water-tight bulkheads, other than those mentioned as extending to d deck, all stopped at this deck. at the forward end was provided accommodation for three watches of trimmers, in three separate compartments, each holding 24 trimmers. abaft this, on the port side, was accommodation for 44 seamen. aft of this, and also on the starboard side of it, were the lavatories for crew and third-class passengers; further aft again came the forward third-class lavatories. immediately aft of this was a passageway right across the ship communicating directly with the ladderways leading to the decks above and below and gangway doors in the ship's side. this passage was 9 feet wide at the sides and 15 feet at the center of the ship. from the after end of this cross passage main alleyways on each side of the ship ran right through to the after end of the vessel. that on the port side was about 8-1/2 feet wide. it was the general communication passage for the crew and third-class passengers and was known as the working passage. in this passage at the center line in the middle of the length of the ship direct access was obtained to the third-class dining rooms on the deck below by means of a ladderway 20 feet wide. between the working passage and the ship's side was the accommodation for the petty officers, most of the stewards, and the engineers' mess room. this accommodation extended for 475 feet. from this passage access was obtained to both engine rooms and the engineers' accommodation, some third-class lavatories and also some third-class accommodation at the after end. there was another cross passage at the end of this accommodation about 9 feet wide, terminating in gangway doors on each side of the ship. the port side of it was for third-class passengers and the starboard for second class. a door divided the parts, but it could be opened for any useful purpose, or for an emergency. the second-class stairway leading to the boat deck was in the cross passageway. the passage on the starboard side ran through the first and then the second-class accommodation, and the forward main first-class stairway and elevators extended to this deck, whilst both the second-class main stairways were also in communication with this starboard passage. there were 4 first-class, 8 first or second alternatively, and 19 second-class rooms leading off this starboard passage. the remainder of the deck was appropriated to third-class accommodation. this contained the bulk of the third-class accommodation. at the forward end of it was the accommodation for 53 firemen constituting the third watch. aft of this in three water-tight compartments there was third-class accommodation extending to 147 feet. in the next water-tight compartment were the swimming bath and linen rooms. in the next water-tight compartments were stewards' accommodation on the port side, and the turkish baths on the starboard side. the next two water-tight compartments each contained a third-class dining room. the third-class stewards' accommodation, together with the third-class galley and pantries, filled the water-tight compartment. the engineers' accommodation was in the next compartment directly alongside the casing of the reciprocating engine room. the next 3 compartments were allotted to 64 second-class staterooms. these communicated direct with the second-class main stairways. the after compartments contained third-class accommodation. all spaces on this deck had direct ladderway communication with the deck above, so that if it became necessary to close the water-tight doors in the bulkheads an escape was available in all cases. on this deck in the way of the boiler rooms were placed the electrically driven fans which provided ventilation to the stokeholes. _g deck._--the forward end of this deck had accommodation for 15 leading firemen and 30 greasers. the next water-tight compartment contained third-class accommodation in 26 rooms for 106 people. the next water-tight compartment contained the first-class baggage room, the post-office accommodation, a racquet court, and 7 third-class rooms for 34 passengers. from this point to the after end of the boiler room the space was used for the 'tween deck bunkers. alongside the reciprocating engine room were the engineers' stores and workshop. abreast of the turbine engine room were some of the ship's stores. in the next water-tight compartment abaft the turbine room were the main body of the stores. the next two compartments were appropriated to 186 third-class passengers in 60 rooms; this deck was the lowest on which any passengers or crew were carried. below g deck were two partial decks, the orlop and lower orlop decks, the latter extending only through the fore peak and no. 1 hold; on the former deck, abaft the turbine engine room, were some storerooms containing stores for ship's use. below these decks again came the inner bottom, extending fore-and-aft through about nine-tenths of the vessel's length, and on this were placed the boilers, main and auxiliary machinery, and the electric-light machines. in the remaining spaces below g deck were cargo holds or 'tween decks, seven in all, six forward and one aft. the firemen's passage, giving direct access from their accommodation to the forward boiler room by stairs at the forward end, contained the various pipes and valves connected with the pumping arrangements at the forward end of the ship, and also the steam pipes conveying steam to the windlass gear forward and exhaust steam pipes leading from winches and other deck machinery. it was made thoroughly water-tight throughout its length, and at its after end was closed by a water-tight vertical sliding door of the same character as other doors on the inner bottom. special arrangements were made for pumping this space out, if necessary. the pipes were placed in this tunnel to protect them from possible damage by coal or cargo, and also to facilitate access to them. on the decks was provided generally, in the manner above described, accommodation for a maximum number of 1,034 first-class passengers, and at the same time 510 second-class passengers and 1,022 third-class passengers. some of the accommodation was of an alternative character and could be used for either of two classes of passengers. in the statement of figures the higher alternative class has been reckoned. this makes a total accommodation for 2,566 passengers. accommodation was provided for the crew as follows: about 75 of the deck department, including officers and doctors, 326 of the engine-room department, including engineers, and 544 of the victualing department, including pursers and leading stewards. _access of passengers to the boat deck._--the following routes led directly from the various parts of the first-class passenger accommodation to the boat deck: from the forward ends of a, b, c, d, and e decks by the staircase in the forward first-class entrance direct to the boat deck. the elevators led from the same decks as far as a deck, where further access was obtained by going up the top flight of the main staircase. the same route was available for first-class passengers forward of midships on b, c, and e decks. first-class passengers abaft midships on b and c decks could use the staircase in the after main entrance to a deck, and then could pass out onto the deck and by the midships stairs beside the house ascend to the boat deck. they could also use the stewards' staircase between the reciprocating-engine casing and nos. 1 and 2 boiler casing, which led direct to the boat deck. this last route was also available for passengers on e deck in the same divisions who could use the forward first-class main stairway and elevators. second-class passengers on d deck could use their own after stairway to b deck and could then pass up their forward stairway to the boat deck, or else could cross their saloon and use the same stairway throughout. of the second-class passengers on e deck, those abreast of the reciprocating-engine casing, unless the water-tight door immediately abaft of them was closed, went aft and joined the other second-class passengers. if, however, the water-tight door at the end of their compartment was closed, they passed through an emergency door into the engine room and directly up to the boat deck by the ladders and gratings in the engine-room casing. the second-class passengers on e deck in the compartment abreast the turbine casing on the starboard side, and also those on f deck on both sides below could pass through m water-tight bulkhead to the forward second-class main stairway. if this door were closed, they could pass by the stairway up to the serving space at the forward end of the second-class saloon and go into the saloon and thence up the forward second-class stairway. passengers between m and n bulkheads on both e and f decks could pass directly up to the forward second-class stairway to the boat deck. passengers between n and o bulkheads on d, e, f, and g decks could pass by the after second-class stairway to b deck and then cross to the forward second-class stairway and go up to the boat deck. third-class passengers at the fore end of the vessel could pass by the staircases to c deck in the forward well and by ladders on the port and starboard sides at the forward end of the deck houses, thence direct to the boat deck outside the officers' accommodation. they might also pass along the working passage on e deck and through the emergency door to the forward first-class main stairway, or through the door on the same deck at the forward end of the first-class alleyway and up the first-class stairway direct to the boat deck. the third-class passengers at the after end of the ship passed up their stairway to e deck and into the working passage and through the emergency doors to the two second-class stairways and so to the boat deck, like second-class passengers. or, alternatively, they could continue up their own stairs and entrance to c deck, thence by the two ladders at the after end of the bridge onto the b deck and thence by the forward second-class stairway direct to the boat deck. _crew._--from each boiler room an escape or emergency ladder was provided direct to the boat deck by the fidleys, in the boiler casings, and also into the working passage on e deck, and thence by the stair immediately forward of the reciprocating-engine casing, direct to the boat deck. from both the engine rooms ladders and gratings gave direct access to the boat deck. from the electric engine room, the after tunnels, and the forward pipe tunnels escapes were provided direct to the working passage on e deck and thence by one of the several routes already detailed from that space. from the crew's quarters they could go forward by their own staircases into the forward well and thence, like the third-class passengers, to the boat deck. the stewards' accommodation being all connected to the working passage or the forward main first-class stairway, they could use one of the routes from thence. the engineers' accommodation also communicated with the working passage, but as it was possible for them to be shut between two water-tight bulkheads, they had also a direct route by the gratings in the engine-room casing to the boat deck. on all the principal accommodation decks the alleyways and stairways provided a ready means of access to the boat deck, and there were clear deck spaces in way of all first, second, and third class main entrances and stairways on boat deck and all decks below. structure. the vessel was built throughout of steel and had a cellular double bottom of the usual type, with a floor at every frame, its depth at the center line being 63 inches, except in way of the reciprocating machinery, where it was 78 inches. for about half of the length of the vessel this double bottom extended up the ship's side to a height of 7 feet above the keel. forward and aft of the machinery space the protection of the inner bottom extended to a less height above the keel. it was so divided that there were four separate water-tight compartments in the breadth of the vessel. before and abaft the machinery space there was a water-tight division at the center line only, except in the foremost and aftermost tanks. above the double bottom the vessel was constructed of the usual transverse frame system, reenforced by web frames, which extended to the highest decks. at the forward end the framing and plating was strengthened with a view to preventing panting and damage when meeting thin harbor ice. beams were fitted on every frame at all decks from the boat deck downward. an external bilge keel about 300 feet long and 25 inches deep was fitted along the bilge amidships. the heavy ship's plating was carried right up to the boat deck, and between the c and b decks was doubled. the stringer or edge plate of the b deck was also doubled. this double plating was hydraulic riveted. all decks were steel plated throughout. the transverse strength of the ship was in part dependent on the 15 transverse water-tight bulkheads, which were specially stiffened and strengthened to enable them to stand the necessary pressure in the event of accident, and they were connected by double angles to decks, inner bottom, and shell plating. the two decks above the b deck were of comparatively light scantling, but strong enough to insure their proving satisfactory in these positions in rough weather. _water-tight subdivision._--in the preparation of the design of this vessel it was arranged that the bulkheads and divisions should be so placed that the ship would remain afloat in the event of any two adjoining compartments being flooded and that they should be so built and strengthened that the ship would remain afloat under this condition. the minimum freeboard that the vessel would have in the event of any two compartments being flooded was between 2 feet 6 inches and 3 feet from the deck adjoining the top of the water-tight bulkheads. with this object in view, 15 water-tight bulkheads were arranged in the vessel. the lower part of c bulkhead was doubled and was in the form of a cofferdam. so far as possible the bulkheads were carried up in one plane to their upper sides, but in cases where they had for any reason to be stepped forward or aft, the deck, in way of the step, was made into a water-tight flat, thus completing the water-tightness of the compartment. in addition to this, g deck in the after peak was made a water-tight flat. the orlop deck between bulkheads which formed the top of the tunnel was also water-tight. the orlop deck in the forepeak tank was also a water-tight flat. the electric-machinery compartment was further protected by a structure some distance in from the ship's side, forming six separate water-tight compartments, which were used for the storage of fresh water. where openings were required for the working of the ship in these water-tight bulkheads they were closed by water-tight sliding doors which could be worked from a position above the top of the water-tight bulkhead, and those doors immediately above the inner bottom were of a special automatic closing pattern, as described below. by this subdivision there were in all 73 compartments, 29 of these being above the inner bottom. _water-tight doors._--the doors (12 in number) immediately above the inner bottom were in the engine and boiler room spaces. they were of messrs. harland & wolff's latest type, working vertically. the doorplate was of cast iron of heavy section, strongly ribbed. it closed by gravity, and was held in the open position by a clutch which could be released by means of a powerful electromagnet controlled from the captain's bridge. in the event of accident, or at any time when it might be considered desirable, the captain or officer on duty could, by simply moving an electric switch, immediately close all these doors. the time required for the doors to close was between 25 and 30 seconds. each door could also be closed from below by operating a hand lever fitted alongside the door. as a further precaution floats were provided beneath the floor level, which, in the event of water accidentally entering any of the compartments, automatically lifted and thus released the clutches, thereby permitting the doors in that particular compartment to close if they had not already been dropped by any other means. these doors were fitted with cataracts, which controlled the speed of closing. due notice of closing from the bridge was given by a warning bell. a ladder or escape was provided in each boiler room, engine room, and similar water-tight compartment, in order that the closing of the doors at any time should not imprison the men working therein. the water-tight doors on e deck were of horizontal pattern, with wrought-steel doorplates. those on f deck and the one aft on the orlop deck were of similar type, but had cast-iron doorplates of heavy section, strongly ribbed. each of the between-deck doors, and each of the vertical doors on the tank top level could be operated by the ordinary hand gear from the deck above the top of the water-tight bulkhead, and from a position on the next deck above, almost directly above the door. to facilitate the quick closing of the doors, plates were affixed in suitable positions on the sides of the alleyways, indicating the positions of the deck plates, and a box spanner was provided for each door, hanging in suitable clips alongside the deck plate. _ship's side doors._--large side doors were provided through the side plating, giving access to passengers' or crew's accommodation as follows: on the saloon (d) deck on the starboard side in the forward third-class open space, one baggage door. in way of the forward first-class entrance, two doors close together on each side. on the upper (e) deck, one door each side at the forward end of the working passage. on the port side abreast the engine room, one door leading into the working passage. one door each side on the port and starboard sides aft into the forward second-class entrance. all the doors on the upper deck were secured by lever handles, and were made water-tight by means of rubber strips. those on the saloon deck were closed by lever handles, but had no rubber. _accommodation ladder._--one teak accommodation ladder was provided, and could be worked on either side of the ship in the gangway door opposite the second-class entrance on the upper deck (e). it had a folding platform and portable stanchions, hand rope, etc. the ladder extended to within 3 feet 6 inches of the vessel's light draft, and was stowed overhead in the entrance abreast the forward second-class main staircase. its lower end was arranged so as to be raised and lowered from a davit immediately above. _masts and rigging._--the vessel was rigged with two masts and fore and aft sails. the two pole masts were constructed of steel, and stiffened with angle irons. the poles at the top of the mast were made of teak. a lookout cage, constructed of steel, was fitted on the foremast at a height of about 95 feet above the water line. access to the cage was obtained by an iron vertical ladder inside of the foremast, with an opening at c deck and one at the lookout cage. an iron ladder was fitted on the foremast from the hounds to the masthead light. life-saving appliances. _life buoys._--forty-eight, with beckets, were supplied, of pattern approved by the board of trade. they were placed about the ship. _life belts._--three thousand five hundred and sixty life belts, of the latest improved overhead pattern, approved by the board of trade, were supplied and placed on board the vessel and there inspected by the board of trade. these were distributed throughout all the sleeping accommodation. _lifeboats._--twenty boats in all were fitted on the vessel, and were of the following dimensions and capacities: fourteen wood lifeboats, each 30 feet long by 9 feet 1 inch broad by 4 feet deep, with a cubic capacity of 655.2 cubic feet, constructed to carry 65 persons each. emergency boats: one wood cutter, 25 feet 2 inches long by 7 feet 2 inches broad by 3 feet deep, with a cubic capacity of 326.6 cubic feet, constructed to carry 40 persons. one wood cutter, 25 feet 2 inches long by 7 feet 1 inch broad by 3 feet deep, with a cubic capacity of 322.1 cubic feet, constructed to carry 40 persons. four engelhardt collapsible boats, 27 feet 5 inches long by 8 feet broad by 3 feet deep, with a cubic capacity of 376.6 cubic feet, constructed to carry 47 persons each. or a total of 11,327.9 cubic feet for 1,178 persons. the lifeboats and cutters were constructed as follows: the keels were of elm. the stems and stern posts were of oak. they were all clinker built of yellow pine, double fastened with copper nails, clinched over rooves. the timbers were of elm, spaced about 9 inches apart, and the seats pitch pine, secured with galvanized-iron double knees. the buoyancy tanks in the lifeboats were of 18 ounce copper, and of capacity to meet the board of trade requirements. the lifeboats were fitted with murray's disengaging gear, with arrangements for simultaneously freeing both ends if required. the gear was fastened at a suitable distance from the forward and after ends of the boats, to suit the davits. life lines were fitted round the gunwales of the lifeboats. the davit blocks were treble for the lifeboats and double for the cutters. they were of elm, with lignum vitæ roller sheaves, and were bound inside with iron, and had swivel eyes. there were manila rope falls of sufficient length for lowering the boats to the vessel's light draft, and when the boats were lowered, to be able to reach the boat winches on the boat deck. the lifeboats were stowed on hinged wood chocks on the boat deck, by groups of three at the forward and four at the after ends. on each side of the boat deck the cutters were arranged forward of the group of three and fitted to lash outboard as emergency boats. they were immediately abaft the navigating bridge. the engelhardt collapsible lifeboats were stowed abreast of the cutters, one on each side of the ship, and the remaining two on top of the officers' house, immediately abaft the navigating bridge. the boat equipment was in accordance with the board of trade requirements. sails for each lifeboat and cutter were supplied and stowed in painted bags. covers were supplied for the lifeboats and cutters, and a sea anchor for each boat. every lifeboat was furnished with a special spirit boat compass and fitting for holding it; these compasses were carried in a locker on the boat deck. a provision tank and water beaker were supplied to each boat. _compasses._--compasses were supplied as follows: one kelvin standard compass, with azimuth mirror on compass platform. one kelvin steering compass inside of wheelhouse. one kelvin steering compass on captain's bridge. one light card compass for docking bridge. fourteen spirit compasses for lifeboats. all the ships' compasses were lighted with oil and electric lamps. they were adjusted by messrs. c. j. smith, of southampton, on the passage from belfast to southampton and southampton to queenstown. _charts._--all the necessary charts were supplied. _distress signals._--these were supplied of number and pattern approved by board of trade--i. e., 36 socket signals in lieu of guns, 12 ordinary rockets, 2 manwell holmes deck flares, 12 blue lights, and 6 lifebuoy lights. pumping arrangements. the general arrangement of piping was designed so that it was possible to pump from any flooded compartment by two independent systems of 10-inch mains having cross connections between them. these were controlled from above by rods and wheels led to the level of the bulkhead deck. by these it was possible to isolate any flooded space, together with any suctions in it. if any of these should happen accidentally to be left open, and consequently out of reach, it could be shut off from the main by the wheel on the bulkhead deck. this arrangement was specially submitted to the board of trade and approved by them. the double bottom of the vessel was divided by 17 transverse water-tight divisions, including those bounding the fore and aft peaks, and again subdivided by a center fore-and-aft bulkhead, and two longitudinal bulkheads, into 46 compartments. fourteen of these compartments had 8-inch suctions, 23 had 6-inch suctions, and 3 had 5-inch suctions connected to the 10-inch ballast main suction; 6 compartments were used exclusively for fresh water. the following bilge suctions were provided for dealing with water above the double bottom, viz, in no. 1 hold two 3-1/2-inch suctions, no. 2 hold two 3-1/2-inch and 2 3-inch suctions, bunker hold, two 3-1/2-inch and two 3-inch suctions. the valves in connection with the forward bilge and ballast suctions were placed in the firemen's passage, the water-tight pipe tunnel extending from no. 6 boiler room to the after end of no. 1 hold. in this tunnel, in addition to two 3-inch bilge suctions, one at each end, there was a special 3-1/2-inch suction with valve rod led up to the lower deck above the load line, so as always to have been accessible should the tunnel be flooded accidentally. in no. 6 boiler room there were three 3-1/2-inch, one 4-1/2-inch, and two 3-inch suctions. in no. 5 boiler room there were three 3-1/2-inch, one 5-inch, and two 3-inch suctions. in no. 4 boiler room there were three 3-1/2-inch, one 4-1/2-inch, and two 3-inch suctions. in no. 3 boiler room there were three 3-1/2-inch, one 5-inch, and two 3-inch suctions. in no. 2 boiler room there were three 3-1/2-inch, one 5-inch, and two 3-inch suctions. in no. 1 boiler room there were two 3-1/2-inch, one 5-inch, and two 3-inch suctions. in the reciprocating engine room there were two 3-1/2-inch, six 3-inch, two 18-inch, and two 5-inch suctions. in the turbine engine room there were two 3-1/2-inch, three 3-inch, two 18-inch, two 5-inch, and one 4-inch suctions. in the electric engine room there were four 3-1/2-inch suctions. in the storerooms above the electric engine room there was one 3-inch suction. in the forward tunnel compartment there were two 3-1/2-inch suctions. in the water-tight flat over the tunnel compartment there were two 3-inch suctions. in the tunnel after compartment there were two 3-1/2-inch suctions. in the water-tight flat over the tunnel after compartment there were two 3-inch suctions. electrical installation. _main generating sets._--there were four engines and dynamos, each having a capacity of 400 kilowatts at 100 volts and consisting of a vertical three-crank compound-forced lubrication inclosed engine of sufficient power to drive the electrical plant. the engines were direct-coupled to their respective dynamos. these four main sets were situated in a separate water-tight compartment about 63 feet long by 24 feet high, adjoining the after end of the turbine room at the level of the inner bottom. steam to the electric engines was supplied from two separate lengths of steam pipes, connecting on the port side to the five single-ended boilers in compartment no. 1 and two in compartment no. 2, and on the starboard side to the auxiliary steam pipe which derived steam from the five single-ended boilers in no. 1 compartment, two in no. 2, and two in no. 4. by connections at the engine room forward bulkhead steam could be taken from any boiler in the ship. _auxiliary generating sets._--in addition to the four main generating sets, there were two 30-kilowatt engines and dynamos situated on a platform in the turbine engine room casing on saloon deck level, 20 feet above the water line. they were the same general type as the main sets. these auxiliary emergency sets were connected to the boilers by means of a separate steam pipe running along the working passage above e deck, with branches from three boiler rooms, nos. 2, 3, and 5, so that should the main sets be temporarily out of action the auxiliary sets could provide current for such lights and power appliances as would be required in the event of emergency. _electric lighting._--the total number of incandescent lights was 10,000, ranging from 16 to 100 candlepower, the majority being of tantallum type, except in the cargo spaces and for the portable fittings, where carbon lamps were provided. special dimming lamps of small amount of light were provided in the first-class rooms. _electric heating and power and mechanical ventilation._--altogether 562 electric heaters and 153 electric motors were installed throughout the vessel, including six 50-hundredweight and two 30-hundredweight cranes, four 3-ton cargo winches, and four 15-hundredweight boat winches. there were also four electric passenger lifts, three forward of the first-class main entrance and one in the second-class forward entrance, each to carry 12 persons. _telephones._--loud speaking telephones of navy pattern were fitted for communication between the following: wheelhouse on the navigating bridge and the forecastle. wheelhouse on the navigating bridge and the lookout station on the crow's nest. wheelhouse on the navigating bridge and the engine room. wheelhouse on the navigating bridge and the poop. chief engineer's cabin and the engine room. engine room and nos. 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 stokeholds. these were operated both from the ship's lighting circuit, through a motor generator, and alternatively by a stand-by battery, which by means of an automatic switch could be introduced in the circuit should the main supply fail. there was also a separate telephone system for intercommunication between a number of the chief officials and service rooms, through a 50-line exchange switchboard. a number of the pantries and galleys were also in direct telephonic communication. _wireless telegraphy._--the wireless telegraphy system was worked by a marconi 5-kilowatt motor generator. the house for the marconi instruments was situated on the boat deck close to the bridge. there were four parallel aerial wires extended between the masts, fastened to light booms; from the aerials the connecting wires were led to the instruments in the house. there were two complete sets of apparatus, one for the transmitting and one for receiving messages, the former being placed in a sound-proof chamber in one corner of the wireless house. there was also an independent storage battery and coil, in event of the failure of the current supply, which came from the ship's dynamos. _submarine signaling._--the submarine signal co.'s apparatus was provided for receiving signals from the submarine bells. small tanks containing the microphones were placed on the inside of the hull of the vessel on the port and starboard sides below the water level, and were connected by wires to receivers situated in the navigating room on the port side of the officer's deck house. _various._--the whistles were electrically actuated on the willett bruce system. the boiler-room telegraphs, stoking indicators, rudder indicators, clocks and thermostats were also electrical. the water-tight doors were released by electric magnets. _emergency circuit._--a separate and distinct installation was fitted in all parts of the vessel, deriving current from the two 30-kilowatt sets above mentioned, so that in the event of the current from the main dynamos being unavailable an independent supply was obtainable. connected to the emergency circuit were above 500 incandescent lamps fitted throughout all passenger, crew, and machinery compartments, at the end of passages, and near stairways, also on the boat deck, to enable anyone to find their way from one part of the ship to the other. the following were also connected to the emergency circuit by means of change-over switches: five arc lamps, seven cargo and gangway lanterns, marconi apparatus, mast, side, and stern lights, and all lights on bridge, including those for captain's, navigating, and chart rooms, wheelhouse, telegraphs and morse signaling lanterns, and four electrically-driven boat winches. these latter, situated on the boat deck, were each capable of lifting a load of 15 hundredweight at a speed of 100 feet per minute. _ventilating._--there were 12 electrically-driven fans for supplying air to the stokeholds, 6 electrically-driven fans for engine and turbine room ventilation. there were fans for engine and boiler rooms. machinery. _description._--the propelling machinery was of the combination type, having two sets of reciprocating engines driving the wing propellers and a low-pressure turbine working the center propeller. steam was supplied by 24 double-ended boilers and 5 single-ended boilers, arranged for a working pressure of 215 pounds per square inch. the turbine was placed in a separate compartment aft of the reciprocating-engine room and divided from it by a water-tight bulkhead. the main condensers, with their circulating pumps and air pumps, were placed in the turbine room. the boilers were arranged in six water-tight compartments, the single-ended boilers being placed in the one nearest the main engines, the whole being built under board of trade survey for passenger certificate. _reciprocating engines._--the reciprocating engines were of the four-crank triple-expansion type. each set had four inverted, direct-acting cylinders, the high-pressure having a diameter of 54 inches, the intermediate pressure of 84 inches, and each of the two low-pressure cylinders of 97 inches, all with a stroke of 6 feet 3 inches. the valves of the high-pressure and intermediate cylinders were of the piston type, and the low-pressure cylinder had double-ported slide valves, fitted with stephenson link motion. each engine was reversed by a brown type of direct-acting steam and hydraulic engine. there was also a separate steam-driven high-pressure pump fitted for operating either or both of the reversing engines. this alternative arrangement was a stand-by in case of breakdown of the steam pipes to these engines. _turbine._--the low-pressure turbine was of the parsons reaction type, direct coupled to the center line of shafting and arranged for driving in the ahead direction only. it exhausted to the two condensers, placed one on each side of it. a shut-off valve was fitted in each of the eduction pipes leading to the condensers. an emergency governor was fitted and arranged to shut off steam to the turbine and simultaneously change over the exhaust from the reciprocating engines to the condensers, should the speed of the turbine become excessive through the breaking of a shaft or other accident. _boilers._--all the boilers were 15 feet 9 inches in diameter, the 24 double-ended boilers being 20 feet long, and the single-ended 11 feet 9 inches long. each double-ended boiler had six and each single-ended boiler three furnaces, with a total heating surface of 144,142 square feet and a grate surface of 3,466 square feet. the boilers were constructed in accordance with the rules of the board of trade for a working pressure of 215 pounds per square inch. they were arranged for working under natural draft, assisted by fans, which blew air into the open stokehold. _auxiliary steam pipes._--the five single-ended boilers and those in boiler rooms nos. 2 and 4 had separate steam connections to the pipe supplying steam for working the auxiliary machinery, and the five single-ended boilers and the two port boilers in boiler room no. 2 had separate steam connections to the pipe supplying steam for working the electric-light engines. a cross connection was also made between the main and auxiliary pipes in the reciprocating-engine room, so that the auxiliaries could be worked from any boiler in the ship. steam pipes also were led separately from three of the boiler rooms (nos. 2, 3, 5) above the water-tight bulkheads and along the working passage to the emergency electric-light engines placed above the load line in the turbine room. pipes were also led from this steam supply to the pumps in the engine room, which were connected to the bilges throughout the ship. _main steam pipes._--there were two main lines of steam pipes led to the engine room, with shut-off valves at three of the bulkheads. besides the shut-off valves at the engine-room bulkhead, a quick-acting emergency valve was fitted on each main steam pipe, so that the steam could at once be shut off in case of rupture of the main pipe. _condensing plant and pumps._--there were two main condensers, having a combined cooling surface of 50,550 square feet, designed to work under a vacuum of 28 inches with cooling water at 60° f. the condensers were pear shaped in section, and built of mild steel plates. four gun-metal centrifugal pumps were fitted for circulating water through the condensers. each pump had suction and discharge pipes of 29-inch bore, and was driven by a compound engine. besides the main sea suctions, two of the pumps had direct bilge suctions from the turbine room and the other two from the reciprocating-engine room. the bilge suctions were 18 inches diameter. four of weir's "dual" air pumps were fitted, two to each condenser, and discharged to two feed tanks placed in the turbine engine room. _bilge and ballast pumps._--the ship was also fitted with the following pumps: five ballast and bilge pumps, each capable of discharging 250 tons of water per hour; three bilge pumps, each of 150 tons per hour capacity. one ash ejector was placed in each of the large boiler compartments to work the ash ejectors, and to circulate or feed the boilers as required. this pump was also connected to the bilges, except in the case of three of the boiler rooms, where three of the ballast and bilge pumps were placed. the pumps in each case had direct bilge suctions as well as a connection to the main bilge pipe, so that each boiler room might be independent. the remainder of the auxiliary pumps were placed in the reciprocating and turbine engine rooms. two ballast pumps were placed in the reciprocating-engine room, with large suctions from the bilges direct and from the bilge main. two bilge pumps were also arranged to draw from bilges. one bilge pump was placed in the turbine room and one of the hot salt-water pumps had a connection from the bilge main pipe for use in emergency. a 10-inch main ballast pipe was carried fore and aft through the ship with separate connections to each tank, and with filling pipes from the sea connected at intervals for trimming purposes. the five ballast pumps were arranged to draw from this pipe. a double line of bilge main pipe was fitted forward of no. 5 boiler room and aft of no. 1. general. there were four elliptical-shaped funnels; the three forward ones took the waste gases from the boiler furnaces, and the after one was placed over the turbine hatch and was used as a ventilator. the galley funnels were led up this funnel. the uptakes by which the waste gases were conveyed to the funnels were united immediately above the water-tight bulkhead which separated the boiler rooms. all overhead discharge from the circulating pumps, ballast pumps, bilge pumps, etc., were below the deep load line, but above the light line. the boilers were supported in built steel cradles, and were stayed to the ship's side and to each other athwart ships by strong steel stays. built steel chocks were also fitted to prevent movement fore and aft. silent blow-offs from the main steam pipes were connected direct to both condensers. crew and passengers. when the _titanic_ left queenstown on april 11 the total number of persons employed on board in any capacity was 885. the respective ratings of these persons were as follows: deck department 66 engine department 325 victualing department 494 --- 885 eight bandsmen were included in the second-class passenger list. in the deck department the master, edward charles smith, held an extra master's certificate; chief officer h. f. wilde held an ordinary master's certificate; first officer w. m. murdock held an ordinary master's certificate; second officer c. h. lightoller held an extra master's certificate; third officer h. j. pitman held an ordinary master's certificate; fourth officer j. g. boxall held an extra master's certificate; fifth officer h. g. lowe held an ordinary master's certificate; sixth officer j. p. moody held an ordinary master's certificate. in the engine department were included the chief engineer and 7 senior and 17 assistant engineers. in the victualing department there were 23 women employed. the total number of passengers on board was 1,316. ----------------------------------------------------- male. female. total. ----------------------------------------------------- of these- first class 180 145 325 second class 179 106 285 third class 510 196 706 ---- 1,316 -----------------------------------------------------of the above 6 children were in the first class; 24 children were in the second class; 79 children were in the third class; or 109 in all. about 410 of the third-class passengers were foreigners, and these, with the foreigners in the first and second class and in the victualing department, would make a total of nearly 500 persons on board who were presumably not english speaking, so far as it is possible to ascertain. the disposition of the different classes of passengers and of the crew in the ship has already been described (pp. 10-15). in all, 2,201 persons were on board. ii. account of the ship's journey across the atlantic, the messages she received, and the disaster. the sailing order. the masters of vessels belonging to the white star line are not given any special "sailing orders" before the commencement of any particular voyage. it is understood, however, that the "tracks" or "lane routes" proper to the particular time of the year, and agreed upon by the great steamship companies, are to be generally adhered to. should any master see fit during this passage to deviate from his route he has to report on and explain this deviation at the end of his voyage. when such deviation has been in the interests of safety, and not merely to shorten his passage, his action has always been approved of by the company. a book of general ship's rules and uniform regulations is also issued by the company as a guide; there are in this book no special instructions in regard to ice, but there is a general instruction that the safety of the lives of the passengers and ship are to be the first consideration. besides the book of ship's rules, every master when first appointed to command a ship is addressed by special letter from the company, of which the following passage is an extract: you are to dismiss all idea of competitive passages with other vessels and to concentrate your attention upon a cautious, prudent, and ever-watchful system of navigation, which shall lose time or suffer any other temporary inconvenience rather than incur the slightest risk which can be avoided. mr. sanderson, one of the directors, in his evidence says with reference to the above letter: we never fail to tell them in handing them these letters that we do not wish them to take it as a mere matter of form; that we wish them to read these letters, and to write an acknowledgment to us that they have read them, and that they will be influenced by what we have said in those letters. the route followed. the _titanic_ left southampton on wednesday, april 10, and after calling at cherbourg, proceeded to queenstown, from which port she sailed on the afternoon of thursday, april 11, following what was at that time the accepted outward-bound route for mail steamers from the fastnet light, off the southwest coast of ireland, to the nantucket shoal light vessel, off the coast of the united states. it is desirable here to explain that it has been, since 1899, the practice, by common agreement between the great north atlantic steamship companies, to follow lane routes, to be used by their ships at the different seasons of the year. speaking generally, it may be said that the selection of these routes has hitherto been based on the importance of avoiding as much as possible the areas where fog and ice are prevalent at certain seasons, without thereby unduly lengthening the passage across the atlantic, and also with the view of keeping the tracks of "outward" and "homeward" bound mail steamers well clear of one another. a further advantage is that, in case of a breakdown, vessels are likely to receive timely assistance from other vessels following the same route. the decisions arrived at by the steamship companies referred to above have, from time to time, been communicated to the hydrographic office, and the routes have there been marked on the north atlantic route charts printed and published by the admiralty; and they have also been embodied in the sailing directions. before the _titanic_ disaster the accepted mail steamers outward track between january 15 and august 14 followed the arc of a great circle between the fastnet light and a point in latitude 42° n. and 47° w. (sometimes termed the "turning point"), and from thence by rhumb line so as to pass just south of the nantucket shoal light vessel, and from this point on to new york. this track, usually called the outward southern track, was that followed by the _titanic_ on her journey. an examination of the north atlantic route chart shows that this track passes about 25 miles south (that is outside) of the edge of the area marked "field ice between march and july," but from 100 to 300 miles to the northward (that is inside) of the dotted line on the chart marked, "icebergs have been seen within this line in april, may, and june." that is to say, assuming the areas indicated to be based on the experience of many years, this track might be taken as passing clear of field ice under the usual conditions of that time of year, but well inside the area in which icebergs might be seen. it is instructive here to remark that had the "turning point" been in longitude 45° w. and latitude 38° n., that is some 240 miles to the south-eastward, the total distance of the passage would only have been increased by about 220 miles, or some 10 hours' steaming for a 22-knot ship. this is the route which was provisionally decided on by the great trans-atlantic companies subsequent to the _titanic_ disaster. it must not be supposed that the lane routes referred to had never been changed before. owing to the presence of ice in 1903, 1904, and 1905 from about early in april to mid-june or early in july, westward-bound vessels crossed the meridian of 47° w. in latitude 41° n., that is 60 miles further south than the then accepted track. the publications known as "sailing directions," compiled by the hydrographic office at the admiralty, indicate the caution which it is necessary to use in regions where ice is likely to be found. the following is an extract from one of these books, named "united states pilot (east coast)," part i (second edition, 1909, p. 34), referring to the ocean passages of the large trans-atlantic mail and passenger steamers: to these vessels one of the chief dangers in crossing the atlantic lies in the probability of encountering masses of ice, both in the form of bergs and of extensive fields of solid compact ice, released at the breaking up of winter in the arctic regions, and drifted down by the labrador current across their direct route. ice is more likely to be encountered in this route between april and august, both months inclusive, than at other times, although icebergs have been seen at all seasons northward of the parallel of 43° n., but not often so far south after august. these icebergs are sometimes over 200 feet in height and of considerable extent. they have been seen as far south as latitude 39° n., to obtain which position they must have crossed the gulf stream impelled by the cold arctic current underrunning the warm waters of the gulf stream. that this should happen is not to be wondered at when it is considered that the specific gravity of fresh-water ice, of which these bergs are composed, is about seven-eighths that of sea water; so that, however vast the berg may appear to the eye of the observer, he can in reality see one-eighth of its bulk, the remaining seven-eighths being submerged and subject to the deep-water currents of the ocean. the track of an iceberg is indeed directed mainly by current, so small a portion of its surface being exposed to the action of the winds that its course is but slightly retarded or deflected by moderate breezes. on the great bank of newfoundland bergs are often observed to be moving south or southeast; those that drift westward of cape race usually pass between green and st. pierre banks. the route chart of the north atlantic, no. 2058, shows the limits within which both field ice and icebergs may be met with, and where it should be carefully looked out for at all times, but especially during the spring and summer seasons. from this chart it would appear that whilst the southern and eastern limits of field ice are about latitude 42° n., and longitude 45° w., icebergs may be met with much farther from newfoundland; in april, may, and june they have been seen as far south as latitude 39° n. and as far east as longitude 38° 30´ w." and again, on page 35: it is, in fact, impossible to give, within the outer limits named, any distinct idea of where ice may be expected, and no rule can be laid down to insure safe navigation, as its position and the quantity met with differs so greatly in different seasons. everything must depend upon the vigilance, caution, and skill with which a vessel is navigated when crossing the dangerous ice-bearing regions of the atlantic ocean. similar warnings as to ice are also given in the "nova scotia (southeast coast) and bay of fundy pilot" (sixth edition, 1911), which is also published by the hydrographic office. both the above quoted books were supplied to the master of the _titanic_ (together with other necessary charts and books) before that ship left southampton. the above extracts show that it is quite incorrect to assume that icebergs had never been encountered or field ice observed so far south, at the particular time of year when the _titanic_ disaster occurred; but it is true to say that the field ice was certainly at that time farther south than it has been seen for many years. it may be useful here to give some definitions of the various forms of ice to be met with in these latitudes, although there is frequently some confusion in their use. an iceberg may be defined as a detached portion of a polar glacier carried out to sea. the ice of an iceberg formed from a glacier is of quite fresh water. only about an eighth of its mass floats above the surface of sea water. a "growler" is a colloquial term applied to icebergs of small mass, which therefore only show a small portion above the surface. it is not infrequently a berg which has turned over, and is therefore showing what has been termed "black ice" or, more correctly, dark-blue ice. pack ice is the floating ice which covers wide areas of the polar seas, broken into large pieces, which are driven ("packed") together by wind and current, so as to form a practically continuous sheet. such ice is generally frozen from sea water, and not derived from glaciers. field ice is a term usually applied to frozen sea water floating in much looser form than pack ice. an icefloe is the term generally applied to the same ice (i.e., field ice) in a smaller quantity. a floe berg is a stratified mass of floe ice (i.e., sea-water ice). ice messages received. the _titanic_ followed the outward southern track until sunday, april 14, in the usual way. at 11.40 p. m. on that day she struck an iceberg and at 2.20 a. m. on the next day she foundered. at 9 a. m. (_titanic_ time) on that day a wireless message from the steamship _caronia_ was received by capt. smith. it was as follows: * * * * * captain, _titanic_: west-bound steamers report bergs, growlers, and field ice in 42° n., from 49° to 51° w., april 12. compliments. barr. * * * * * it will be noticed that this message referred to bergs, growlers, and field ice sighted on april 12--at least 48 hours before the time of the collision. at the time this message was received the _titanic's_ position was about latitude 43° 35´ n. and longitude 43° 50´ w. capt. smith acknowledged the receipt of this message. at 1.42 p. m., a wireless message from the steamship _baltic_ was received by capt. smith. it was as follows: * * * * * capt. smith, _titanic_: have had moderate, variable winds and clear, fine weather since leaving. greek steamer _athenai_ reports passing icebergs and large quantities of field ice to-day in latitude 41° 51´ n., longitude 49° 52´ w. last night we spoke german oiltank steamer _deutschland_, stettin to philadelphia, not under control, short of coal, latitude 40° 42´ n., longitude 55° 11´ w. wishes to be reported to new york and other steamers. wish you and _titanic_ all success. commander. * * * * * at the time this message was received the _titanic_ position was about 42° 35´ n., 45° 50´ w. capt. smith acknowledged the receipt of this message also. mr. ismay, the managing director of the white star line, was on board the _titanic_, and it appears that the master handed the _baltic's_ message to mr. ismay almost immediately after it was received. this no doubt was in order that mr. ismay might know that ice was to be expected. mr. ismay states that he understood from the message that they would get up to the ice "that night." mr. ismay showed this message to two ladies, and it is therefore probable that many persons on board became aware of its contents. this message ought in my opinion to have been put on the board in the chart room as soon as it was received. it remained, however, in mr. ismay's possession until 7.15 p. m., when the master asked mr. ismay to return it. it was then that it was first posted in the chart room. this was considerably before the time at which the vessel reached the position recorded in the message. nevertheless, i think it was irregular for the master to part with the document, and improper for mr. ismay to retain it, but the incident had, in my opinion, no connection with or influence upon the manner in which the vessel was navigated by the master. it appears that about 1.45 p. m. (_titanic_ time) on the 14th a message was sent from the german steamer _amerika_ to the hydrographic office in washington, which was in the following terms: _amerika_ passed two large icebergs in 41° 27´ n., 50° 8´ w., on april 14. this was a position south of the point of the _titanic's_ disaster. the message does not mention at what hour the bergs had been observed. it was a private message for the hydrographer at washington, but it passed to the _titanic_ because she was nearest to cape race, to which station it had to be sent in order to reach washington. being a message affecting navigation, it should in the ordinary course have been taken to the bridge. so far as can be ascertained, it was never heard of by anyone on board the _titanic_ outside the marconi room. there were two marconi operators in the marconi room, namely, phillips, who perished, and bride, who survived and gave evidence. bride did not receive the _amerika_ message nor did phillips mention it to him, though the two had much conversation together after it had been received. i am of opinion that when this message reached the marconi room it was put aside by phillips to wait until the _titanic_ would be within call of cape race (at about 8 or 8.30 p. m.), and that it was never handed to any officer of the _titanic_. at 5.50 p. m. the _titanic's_ course (which had been s. 62° w.) was changed to bring her on a westerly course for new york. in ordinary circumstances this change in her course should have been made about half an hour earlier, but she seems on this occasion to have continued for about 10 miles longer on her southwesterly course before turning, with the result that she found herself, after altering course at 5.50 p. m., about 4 or 5 miles south of the customary route on a course s. 86° w. true. her course, as thus set, would bring her at the time of the collision to a point about 2 miles to the southward of the customary route and 4 miles south and considerably to the westward of the indicated position of the _baltic's_ ice. her position at the time of the collision would also be well to the southward of the indicated position of the ice mentioned in the _caronia_ message. this change of course was so insignificant that in my opinion it can not have been made in consequence of information as to ice. in this state of things, at 7.30 p.m. a fourth message was received, and is said by the marconi operator bride to have been delivered to the bridge. this message was from the steamship _californian_ to the steamship _antillian_, but was picked up by the _titanic_. it was as follows: * * * * * to captain, _antillian_: six-thirty p. m., apparent ship's time; latitude 42° 3´ n., longitude 49° 9´ w. three large bergs 5 miles to southward of us. regards. lord. * * * * * bride does not remember to what officer he delivered this message. by the time the _titanic_ reached the position of the collision (11.40 p. m.) she had gone about 50 miles to the westward of the indicated position of the ice mentioned in this fourth message. thus it would appear that before the collision she had gone clear of the indicated positions of ice contained in the messages from the _baltic_ and _californian_. as to the ice advised by the _caronia_ message, so far as it consisted of small bergs and field ice, it had before the time of the collision possibly drifted with the gulf stream to the eastward; and so far as it consisted of large bergs (which would be deep enough in the water to reach the labrador current) it had probably gone to the southward. it was urged by sir robert finlay, who appeared for the owners, that this is strong evidence that the _titanic_ had been carefully and successfully navigated so as to avoid the ice of which she had received warning. mr. ismay, however, stated that he understood from the _baltic_ message that "we would get up to the ice that night." there was a fifth message received in the marconi room of the _titanic_ at 9.40 p. m. this was from a steamer called the _mesaba_. it was in the following terms: _from "mesaba" to "titanic" and all east-bound ships_: ice report in latitude 42° n. to 41° 25´ n., longitude 49° to longitude 50° 30´ w. saw much heavy pack ice and great number large icebergs. also field ice. weather good, clear. this message clearly indicated the presence of ice in the immediate vicinity of the _titanic_, and if it had reached the bridge would perhaps have affected the navigation of the vessel. unfortunately, it does not appear to have been delivered to the master or to any of the officers. the marconi operator was very busy from 8 o'clock onward transmitting messages via cape race for passengers on board the _titanic_, and the probability is that he failed to grasp the significance and importance of the message, and put it aside until he should be less busy. it was never acknowledged by capt. smith, and i am satisfied that it was not received by him. but, assuming sir robert finlay's contentions to be well founded that the titanic had been navigated so as to avoid the _baltic_ and the _californian_ ice, and that the _caronia_ ice had drifted to the eastward and to the southward, still there can be no doubt, if the evidence of mr. lightoller, the second officer, is to be believed, that both he and the master knew that the danger of meeting ice still existed. mr. lightoller says that the master showed him the _caronia_ message about 12.45 p. m. on april 14, when he was on the bridge. he was about to go off watch, and he says he made a rough calculation in his head which satisfied him that the _titanic_ would not reach the position mentioned in the message until he came on watch again at 6 p. m. at 6 p. m. mr. lightoller came on the bridge again to take over the ship from mr. wilde, the chief officer (dead). he does not remember being told anything about the _baltic_ message, which had been received at 1.42 p. m. mr. lightoller then requested mr. moody, the sixth officer (dead), to let him know "at what time we should reach the vicinity of ice," and says that he thinks mr. moody reported "about 11 o'clock." mr. lightoller says that 11 o'clock did not agree with a mental calculation he himself had made and which showed 9.30 as the time. this mental calculation he at first said he had made before mr. moody gave him 11 o'clock as the time, but later on he corrected this, and said his mental calculation was made between 7 and 8 o'clock, and after mr. moody had mentioned 11. he did not point out the difference to him, and thought that perhaps mr. moody had made his calculations on the basis of some "other" message. mr. lightoller excuses himself for not pointing out the difference by saying that mr. moody was busy at the time, probably with stellar observations. it is, however, an odd circumstance that mr. lightoller, who believed that the vicinity of ice would be reached before his watch ended at 10 p.m., should not have mentioned the fact to mr. moody, and it is also odd that if he thought that mr. moody was working on the basis of some "other" message, he did not ask what the other message was or where it came from. the point, however, of mr. lightoller's evidence is that they both thought that the vicinity of ice would be reached before midnight. when he was examined as to whether he did not fear that on entering the indicated ice region he might run foul of a growler (a low-lying berg) he answers: "no, i judged i should see it with "sufficient distinctness" and at a distance of a "mile and a half, more probably 2 miles." he then adds: in the event of meeting ice there are many things we look for. in the first place, a slight breeze. of course, the stronger the breeze the more visible will the ice be, or, rather, the breakers on the ice. he is then asked whether there was any breeze on this night, and he answers: when i left the deck at 10 o'clock there was a slight breeze. oh, pardon me, no; i take that back. no, it was calm, perfectly calm-and almost immediately afterwards he describes the sea as "absolutely flat." it appeared, according to this witness, that about 9 o'clock the master came on the bridge and that mr. lightoller had a conversation with him which lasted half an hour. this conversation, so far as it is material, is described by mr. lightoller in the following words: we commenced to speak about the weather. he said, "there is not much wind." i said, "no, it is a flat calm," as a matter of fact. he repeated it, he said, "a flat calm." i said, "quite flat; there is no wind." i said something about it was rather a pity the breeze had not kept up whilst we were going through the ice region. of course, my reason was obvious: he knew i meant the water ripples breaking on the base of the berg * * * we then discussed the indications of ice. i remember saying, "in any case, there will be a certain amount of reflected light from the bergs." he said, "oh, yes, there will be a certain amount of reflected light." i said or he said--blue was said between us--that even though the blue side of the berg was towards us, probably the outline, the white outline, would give us sufficient warning, that we should be able to see it at a good distance, and as far as we could see, we should be able to see it. of course, it was just with regard to that possibility of the blue side being toward us, and that if it did happen to be turned with the purely blue side toward us, there would still be the white outline. further on mr. lightoller says that he told the master nothing about his own calculation as to coming up with the ice at 9.30 or about mr. moody's calculation as to coming up with it at 11. the conversation with the master ended with the master saying, "if it becomes at all doubtful let me know at once; i will be just inside." this remark mr. lightoller says undoubtedly referred to ice. at 9.30 the master went to his room, and the first thing that mr. lightoller did afterwards was to send a message to the crow's nest "to keep a sharp lookout for ice, particularly small ice and growlers," until daylight. there seems to be no doubt that this message was in fact sent, and that it was passed on to the next lookouts when they came on watch. hitchins, the quartermaster, says he heard mr. lightoller give the message to mr. moody, and both the men in the crow's nest at the time (jewell and symons) speak to having received it. from 9.30 to 10 o'clock, when his watch ended, mr. lightoller remained on the bridge "looking out for ice." he also said that the night order book for the 14th had a footnote about keeping a sharp lookout for ice, and that this note was "initialed by every officer." at 10 o'clock mr. lightoller handed over the watch to mr. murdoch, the first officer (dead), telling him that "we might be up around the ice any time now." that mr. murdoch knew of the danger of meeting ice appears from the evidence of hemming, a lamp trimmer, who says that about 7.15 p. m. mr. murdoch told him to go forward and see the forescuttle hatch closed- as we are in the vicinity of ice and there is a glow coming from that, and i want everything dark before the bridge. the foregoing evidence establishes quite clearly that capt. smith, the master; mr. murdoch, the first officer; mr. lightoller, the second officer; and mr. moody, the sixth officer, all knew on the sunday evening that the vessel was entering a region where ice might be expected; and this being so, it seems to me to be of little importance to consider whether the master had by design or otherwise succeeded in avoiding the particular ice indicated in the three messages received by him. speed of the ship. the entire passage had been made at high speed, though not at the ship's maximum, and this speed was never reduced until the collision was unavoidable. at 10 p. m. the ship was registering 45 knots every two hours by the cherub log. the quartermaster on watch aft when the _titanic_ struck states that the log, reset at noon, then registered 260 knots, and the fourth officer, when working up the position from 7.30 p. m. to the time of the collision, states he estimated the _titanic's_ speed as 22 knots, and this is also borne out by evidence that the engines were running continuously at 75 revolutions. the weather conditions. from 6 p. m. onward to the time of the collision the weather was perfectly clear and fine. there was no moon, the stars were out, and there was not a cloud in the sky. there was, however, a drop in temperature of 10° in slightly less than two hours, and by about 7.30 p. m. the temperature was 33° f., and it eventually fell to 32° f. that this was not necessarily an indication of ice is borne out by the sailing directions. the nova scotia (s. e. coast) and bay of fundy pilot (sixth edition, 1911, p. 16) says: no reliance can be placed on any warning being conveyed to a mariner by a fall of temperature, either of the air or sea, on approaching ice. some decrease in temperature has occasionally been recorded, but more often none has been observed. sir ernest shackleton was, however, of opinion that- if there was no wind and the temperature fell abnormally for the time of the year, i would consider that i was approaching an area which might have ice in it. action that should have been taken. the question is what ought the master to have done. i am advised that with the knowledge of the proximity of ice which the master had, two courses were open to him: the one was to stand well to the southward instead of turning up to a westerly course; the other was to reduce speed materially as night approached. he did neither. the alteration of the course at 5.50 p. m. was so insignificant that it can not be attributed to any intention to avoid ice. this deviation brought the vessel back to within about 2 miles of the customary route before 11.30 p. m. and there was certainly no reduction of speed. why, then, did the master persevere in his course and maintain his speed? the answer is to be found in the evidence. it was shown that for many years past, indeed, for a quarter of a century or more, the practice of liners using this track when in the vicinity of ice at night had been in clear weather to keep the course, to maintain the speed and to trust to a sharp lookout to enable them to avoid the danger. this practice, it was said, had been justified by experience, no casualties having resulted from it. i accept the evidence as to the practice and as to the immunity from casualties which is said to have accompanied it. but the event has proved the practice to be bad. its root is probably to be bound in competition and in the desire of the public for quick passages rather than in the judgment of navigators. but unfortunately experience appeared to justify it. in these circumstances i am not able to blame capt. smith. he had not the experience which his own misfortune has afforded to those whom he has left behind, and he was doing only that which other skilled men would have done in the same position. it was suggested at the bar that he was yielding to influences which ought not to have affected him; that the presence of mr. ismay on board and the knowledge which he perhaps had of a conversation between mr. ismay and the chief engineer at queenstown about the speed of the ship and the consumption of coal probably induced him to neglect precautions which he would otherwise have taken. but i do not believe this. the evidence shows that he was not trying to make any record passage or indeed any exceptionally quick passage. he was not trying to please anybody, but was exercising his own discretion in the way he thought best. he made a mistake, a very grievous mistake, but one in which, in face of the practice and of past experience, negligence can not be said to have had any part; and in the absence of negligence it is, in my opinion, impossible to fix capt. smith with blame. it is, however, to be hoped that the last has been heard of the practice and that for the future it will be abandoned for what we now know to be more prudent and wiser measures. what was a mistake in the case of the _titanic_ would without doubt be negligence in any similar case in the future. the collision. mr. lightoller turned over the ship to mr. murdoch, the first officer, at 10 o'clock, telling him that the ship was within the region where ice had been reported. he also told him of the message he had sent to the crow's nest, and of his conversation with the master, and of the latter's orders. the ship appears to have run on, on the same course, until, at a little before 11.40, one of the lookouts in the crow's nest struck three blows on the gong, which was the accepted warning for something ahead, following this immediately afterward by a telephone message to the bridge "iceberg right ahead." almost simultaneously with the three-gong signal mr. murdoch, the officer of the watch, gave the order "hard-a-starboard," and immediately telegraphed down to the engine room "stop. full speed astern." the helm was already "hard over," and the ship's head had fallen off about two points to port, when she collided with an iceberg well forward on her starboard side. mr. murdoch at the same time pulled the lever over which closed the water-tight doors in the engine and boiler rooms. the master "rushed out" onto the bridge and asked mr. murdoch what the ship had struck. mr. murdoch replied: an iceberg, sir. i hard-a-starboarded and reversed the engines, and i was going to hard-a-port round it, but she was too close. i could not do any more. i have closed the water-tight doors. from the evidence given it appears that the _titanic_ had turned about two points to port before the collision occurred. from various experiments subsequently made with the steamship _olympic_, a sister ship to the _titanic_, it was found that traveling at the same rate as the _titanic_, about 37 seconds would be required for the ship to change her course to this extent after the helm had been put hard-a-starboard. in this time the ship would travel about 466 yards, and allowing for the few seconds that would be necessary for the order to be given, it may be assumed that 500 yards was about the distance at which the iceberg was sighted either from the bridge or crow's nest. that it was quite possible on this night, even with a sharp lookout at the stemhead, crow's nest, and on the bridge, not to see an iceberg at this distance is shown by the evidence of capt. rostron, of the _carpathia_. the injuries to the ship, which are described in the next section, were of such a kind that she foundered in 2 hours and 40 minutes. iii.--description of the damage to the ship and of its gradual and final effect, with observations thereon. the damage done to the ship was as follows: extent of the damage. the collision with the iceberg, which took place at 11.40 p. m., caused damage to the bottom of the starboard side of the vessel at about 10 feet above the level of the keel, but there was no damage above this height. there was damage in-the forepeak, no. 1 hold, no. 2 hold, no. 3 hold, no. 6 boiler room, no. 5 boiler room. the damage extended over a length of about 300 feet. time in which the damage was done. as the ship was moving at over 20 knots, she would have passed through 300 feet in less than 10 seconds, so that the damage was done in about this time. the flooding in first ten minutes. at first it is desirable to consider what happened in the first 10 minutes. the forepeak was not flooded above the orlop deck--i.e., the peak tank top, from the hole in the bottom of the peak tank. in no. 1 hold there was 7 feet of water. in no. 2 hold five minutes after the collision water was seen rushing in at the bottom of the firemen's passage on the starboard side, so that the ship's side was damaged abaft of bulkhead b sufficiently to open the side of the firemen's passage, which was 3-1/2 feet from the outer skin of the ship, thereby flooding both the hold and the passage. in no. 3 hold the mail room was filled soon after the collision. the floor of the mail room is 24 feet above the keel. in no. 6 boiler room, when the collision took place, water at once poured in at about 2 feet above the stokehold plates, on the starboard side, at the after end of the boiler room. some of the firemen immediately went through the water-tight door opening to no. 5 boiler room because the water was flooding the place. the water-tight doors in the engine rooms were shut from the bridge almost immediately after the collision. ten minutes later it was found that there was water to the height of 8 feet above the double bottom in no. 6 boiler room. no. 5 boiler room was damaged at the ship's side in the starboard forward bunker at a distance of 2 feet above the stokehold plates, at 2 feet from the water-tight bulkhead between nos. 5 and 6 boiler rooms. water poured in at that place as it would from an ordinary fire hose. at the time of the collision this bunker had no coal in it. the bunker door was closed when water was seen to be entering the ship. in no. 4 boiler room there was no indication of any damage at the early stages of the sinking. gradual effect of the damage. it will thus be seen that all the six compartments forward of no. 4 boiler room were open to the sea by damage which existed at about 10 feet above the keel. at 10 minutes after the collision the water seems to have risen to about 14 feet above the keel in all these compartments except no. 5 boiler room. after the first ten minutes the water rose steadily in all these six compartments. the forepeak above the peak tank was not filled until an hour after the collision, when the vessel's bow was submerged to above c deck. the water then flowed in from the top through the deck scuttle forward of the collision bulkhead. it was by this scuttle that access was obtained to all the decks below c down to the peak tank top on the orlop deck. at 12 o'clock water was coming up in no. 1 hatch. it was getting into the firemen's quarters and driving the firemen out. it was rushing round no. 1 hatch on g deck and coming mostly from the starboard side, so that in 20 minutes the water had risen above g deck in no. 1 hold. in no. 2 hold about 40 minutes after the collision the water was coming in to the seamen's quarters on e deck through a burst fore and aft wooden bulkhead of a third-class cabin opposite the seamen's wash place. thus, the water had risen in no. 2 hold to about 3 feet above e deck in 40 minutes. in no. 3 hold the mail room was afloat about 20 minutes after the collision. the bottom of the mail room which is on the orlop deck, is 24 feet above the keel. the water-tight doors on f deck at the fore and after ends of no. 3 compartment were not closed then. the mail room was filling and water was within 2 feet of g deck, rising fast when the order was given to clear the boats. there was then no water on f deck. there is a stairway on the port side on g deck which leads down to the first-class baggage room on the orlop deck immediately below. there was water in this baggage room 25 minutes after the collision. half an hour after the collision water was up to g deck in the mail room. thus the water had risen in this compartment to within 2 feet of g deck in 20 minutes, and above g deck in 25 to 30 minutes. no. 6 boiler room was abandoned by the men almost immediately after the collision. ten minutes later the water had risen to 8 feet above the top of the double bottom, and probably reached the top of the bulkhead at the after end of the compartment, at the level of e deck, in about one hour after the collision. in no. 5 boiler room there was no water above the stokehold plates, until a rush of water came through the pass between the boilers from the forward end, and drove the leading stoker out. it has already been shown in the description of what happened in the first 10 minutes, that water was coming into no. 5 boiler room in the forward starboard bunker at 2 feet above the plates in a stream about the size of a deck hose. the door in this bunker had been dropped probably when water was first discovered, which was a few minutes after the collision. this would cause the water to be retained in the bunker until it rose high enough to burst the door which was weaker than the bunker bulkhead. this happened about an hour after the collision. _no. 4 boiler room._--one hour and 40 minutes after the collision water was coming in forward, in no. 4 boiler room, from underneath the floor in the forward part, in small quantities. the men remained in that stokehold till ordered on deck. _nos. 3, 2, and 1 boiler rooms._--when the men left no. 4 some of them went through nos. 3, 2, and 1 boiler rooms into the reciprocating engine room, and from there on deck. there was no water in the boiler rooms abaft no. 4 one hour 40 minutes after the collision (1.20 a. m.), and there was then none in the reciprocating and turbine engine rooms. _electrical engine room and tunnels._--there was no damage to these compartments. from the foregoing it follows that there was no damage abaft no. 4 boiler room. all the water-tight doors aft of the main engine room were opened after the collision. half an hour after the collision the water-tight doors from the engine room to the stokehold were opened as far forward as they could be to no. 4 boiler room. final effect of the damage. the later stages of the sinking can not be stated with any precision, owing to a confusion of the times which was natural under the circumstances. the forecastle deck was not under water at 1.35 a. m. distress signals were fired until two hours after the collision (1.45 a. m.). at this time the fore deck was under water. the forecastle head was not then submerged though it was getting close down to the water, about half an hour before she disappeared (1.50 a. m.). when the last boat, lowered from davits (d), left the ship, a deck was under water, and water came up the stairway under the boat deck almost immediately afterwards. after this the other port collapsible (b), which had been stowed on the officers' house, was uncovered, the lashings cut adrift, and she was swung round over the edge of the coamings of the deckhouse on to the boat deck. very shortly afterwards the vessel, according to mr. lightoller's account, seemed to take a dive, and he just walked into the water. when he came to the surface all the funnels were above the water. her stern was gradually rising out of the water, and the propellers were clear of the water. the ship did not break in two, and she did, eventually, attain the perpendicular, when the second funnel from aft about reached the water. there were no lights burning then, though they kept alight practically until the last. before reaching the perpendicular, when at an angle of 50° or 60°, there was a rumbling sound which may be attributed to the boilers leaving their beds and crashing down on to or through the bulkheads. she became more perpendicular and finally absolutely perpendicular, when she went slowly down. after sinking as far as the after part of the boat deck she went down more quickly. the ship disappeared at 2.20 a. m. observations. i am advised that the _titanic_ as constructed could not have remained afloat long with such damage as she received. her bulkheads were spaced to enable her to remain afloat with any two compartments in communication with the sea. she had a sufficient margin of safety with any two of the compartments flooded which were actually damaged. in fact, any three of the four forward compartments could have been flooded by the damage received without sinking the ship to the top of her bulkheads. even if the four forward compartments had been flooded the water would not have got into any of the compartments abaft of them though it would have been above the top of some of the forward bulkheads. but the ship, even with these four compartments flooded, would have remained afloat. but she could not remain afloat with the four compartments and the forward boiler room (no. 6) also flooded. the flooding of these five compartments alone would have sunk the ship sufficiently deep to have caused the water to rise above the bulkhead at the after end of the forward boiler room (no. 6) and to flow over into the next boiler room (no. 5), and to fill it up until in turn its after bulkhead would be overwhelmed and the water would thereby flow over and fill no. 4 boiler room, and so on in succession to the other boiler rooms till the ship would ultimately fill and sink. it has been shown that water came into the five forward compartments to a height of about 14 feet above the keel in the first 10 minutes. this was at a rate of inflow with which the ship's pumps could not possibly have coped, so that the damage done to these five compartments alone inevitably sealed the doom of the ship. the damage done in the boiler rooms nos. 4 and 5 was too slight to have hastened appreciably the sinking of the ship, for it was given in evidence that no considerable amount of water was in either of these compartments for an hour after the collision. the rate at which water came into no. 6 boiler room makes it highly probable that the compartment was filled in not more than an hour, after which the flow over the top of the bulkhead between 5 and 6 began and continued till no. 5 was filled. it was shown that the leak in no. 5 boiler room was only about equal to the flow of a deck hose pipe about 3 inches in diameter. the leak in no. 4, supposing that there was one, was only enough to admit about 3 feet of water in that compartment in 1 hour 40 minutes. hence the leaks in nos. 4 and 5 boiler rooms did not appreciably hasten the sinking of the vessel. the evidence is very doubtful as to no. 4 being damaged. the pumps were being worked in no. 5 soon after the collision. the 10-inch leather special suction pipe which was carried from aft is more likely to have been carried for use in no. 5 than no. 4 because the doors were ordered to be opened probably soon after the collision when water was known to be coming into no. 5. there is no evidence that the pumps were being worked in no 4. the only evidence possibly favorable to the view that the pipe was required for no 4, and not for no. 5, is that scott, a greaser, says that he saw engineers dragging the suction pipe along one hour after the collision. but even as late as this it may have been wanted for no. 5 only. the importance of the question of the damage to no. 5 is small because the ship as actually constructed was doomed as soon as the water in no. 6 boiler room and all compartments forward of it entered in the quantities it actually did. it is only of importance in dealing with the question of what would have happened to the ship had she been more completely subdivided. it was stated in evidence that if no. 4 had not been damaged or had only been damaged to an extent within the powers of the pumps to keep under, then, if the bulkheads had been carried to c deck, the ship might have been saved. further methods of increased subdivision and their effect upon the fate of the ship are discussed later. evidence was given showing that after the water-tight doors in the engine and boiler rooms had been all closed, except those forward of no. 4 group of boilers, they were opened again, and there is no evidence to show that they were again closed. though it is probable that the engineers who remained below would have closed these doors as the water rose in the compartments, yet it was not necessary for them to do this, as each door had an automatic closing arrangement which would have come into operation immediately a small amount of water came through the door. it is probable, however, that the life of the ship would have been lengthened somewhat if these doors had been left open, for the water would have flowed through them to the after part of the ship, and the rate of flow of the water into the ship would have been for a time reduced as the bow might have been kept up a little by the water which flowed aft. it is thus seen that the efficiency of the automatic arrangements for the closing of the water-tight doors, which was questioned during the inquiry, had no important bearing on the question of hastening the sinking of the ship, except that, in the case of the doors not having been closed by the engineers, it might have retarded the sinking of the ship if they had not acted. the engineers would not have prevented the doors from closing unless they had been convinced that the ship was doomed. there is no evidence that they did prevent the doors from closing. the engineers were applying the pumps when barrett, leading stoker, left no. 5 boiler room, but even if they had succeeded in getting all the pumps in the ship to work they could not have saved the ship or prolonged her life to any appreciable extent. effect of suggested additional subdivision upon floatation. _water-tight decks._--it is in evidence that advantage might be obtained from the point of view of greater safety in having a water-tight deck. without entering into the general question of the advantage of water-tight decks for all ships, it is desirable to form an opinion in the case of the _titanic_ as to whether making the bulkhead deck water-tight would have been an advantage in the circumstances of the accident, or in case of accident to ships of this class. i am advised that it is found that with all the compartments certainly known to have been flooded, viz., those forward of no. 4 boiler room, the ship would have remained afloat if the bulkhead deck had been a water-tight deck. if, however, no. 4 boiler room had also been flooded the ship would not have remained afloat unless, in addition to making the bulkhead deck water-tight, the transverse bulkhead abaft of no. 4 boiler room had been carried up to d deck. to make the bulkhead deck effectively water-tight for this purpose it would have been necessary to carry water-tight trunks round all the openings in the bulkhead deck up to c deck. it has been shown that with the bulkhead abaft no. 5 boiler room carried to c deck the ship would have remained afloat if the compartments certainly known to have been damaged had been flooded. i do not desire to express an opinion upon the question whether it would have conduced to safety in the case of the _titanic_ if a water-tight deck had been fitted below the water line, as there may be some objections to such a deck. there are many considerations involved, and i think that the matter should be dealt with by the bulkhead committee for ships in general. _longitudinal subdivision._--the advantages and disadvantages of longitudinal subdivision by means of water-tight bunker bulkheads were pointed out in evidence. while not attempting to deal with this question generally for ships, i am advised that if the _titanic_ had been divided in the longitudinal method, instead of in the transverse method only, she would have been able, if damaged as supposed, to remain afloat, though with a list which could have been corrected by putting water ballast into suitable places. this subject is one, however, which again involves many considerations, and i think that for ships generally the matter should be referred to the bulkhead committee for their consideration and report. _extending double bottom up the sides._--it was shown in evidence that there would be increased protection in carrying the double bottom higher up the side than was done in the _titanic_, and that some of the boiler rooms would probably not then have been flooded, as water could not have entered the ship except in the double bottom. in the case of the _titanic_ i am advised that this would have been an advantage, but it was pointed out in evidence that there are certain disadvantages which in some ships may outweigh the advantages. in view of what has already been said about the possible advantages of longitudinal subdivision, it is unnecessary further to discuss the question of carrying up the double bottom in ships generally. this matter should also be dealt with by the bulkhead committee. _water-tight doors._--with reference to the question of the water-tight doors of the ship, there does not appear to have been any appreciable effect upon the sinking of the ship caused by either shutting or not shutting the doors. there does not appear to have been any difficulty in working the water-tight doors. they appear to have been shut in good time after the collision. but in other cases of damage in ships constructed like the _titanic_, it is probable that the efficiency of the closing arrangement of the water-tight doors may exert a vital influence on the safety of the ship. it has been represented that in future consideration should be given to the question- as to how far bulkhead should be solid bulkheads, and how far there should be water-tight doors, and, if there should be water-tight doors, how far they may or may not be automatically operated. this again is a question on which it is not necessary here to express any general opinion, for there are conflicting considerations which vary in individual cases. the matter, however, should come under the effective supervision of the board of trade much more than it seems to come at present, and should be referred to the bulkhead committee for their consideration with a view to their suggesting in detail where doors should or should not be allowed, and the type of door which should be adopted in the different parts of ships. [illustration: s.s. "titanic." note.--the vertical letters signify the different decks. the horizontal letters signify the water-tight bulkheads. the heavy line shows the top of the water-tight bulkheads. the crosshatched compartments are those opened to the sea at the time of the collision with the iceberg.] iv.--account of the saving and rescue of those who survived. the boats. the _titanic_ was provided with 20 boats. they were all on the boat deck. fourteen were life boats. these were hung inboard in davits, 7 on the starboard side and 7 on the port side, and were designed to carry 65 persons each. two were emergency boats. these were also in davits, but were hung outboard, one on the starboard side and one on the port side, and were designed to carry 40 persons each. the remaining 4 boats were engelhardt or collapsible boats. two of these were stowed on the boat deck and 2 on the roof of the officers' quarters, and were designed to carry 47 persons each. thus the total boat accommodation was for 1,178 persons. the boats in davits were numbered, the odd numbers being on the starboard side and the even numbers on the port side. the numbering began with the emergency boats, which were forward, and ran aft. thus the boats on the starboard side were numbered 1 (an emergency boat), 3, 5, 7, 9, 11, 13, and 15 (lifeboats), and those on the port side 2 (an emergency boat), 4, 6, 8, 10, 12, 14, and 16 (lifeboats). the collapsible boats were lettered, a and b being on the roof of the officers' quarters and c and d being on the boat deck; c was abreast of no. 1 (emergency boat) and d abreast of no. 2 (emergency boat). further particulars as to the boats will be found on page 18. in ordinary circumstances all these boats (with the exception of 1 and 2) were kept covered up, and contained only a portion of their equipment, such as oars, masts, and sails, and water; some of the remaining portion, such as lamps, compasses, and biscuits being stowed in the ship in some convenient place, ready for use when required. much examination was directed at the hearing to showing that some boats left the ship without a lamp and others without a compass, and so on, but in the circumstances of confusion and excitement which existed at the time of the disaster this seems to me to be excusable. each member of the crew had a boat assigned to him in printed lists, which were posted up in convenient places for the men to see; but it appeared that in some cases the men had not looked at these lists and did not know their respective boats. there had been no proper boat drill nor a boat muster. it was explained that great difficulty frequently exists in getting firemen to take part in a boat drill. they regard it as no part of their work. there seem to be no statutory requirements as to boat drills or musters, although there is a provision (sec. 9 of the merchant shipping act of 1906) that when a boat drill does take place the master of the vessel is, under a penalty, to record the fact in his log. i think it is desirable that the board of trade should make rules requiring boat drills and boat musters to be held of such a kind and at such times as may be suitable to the ship and to the voyage on which she is engaged. boat drill, regulated according to the opportunities of the service, should always be held. it is perhaps worth recording that there was an inspection of the boats themselves at southampton by mr. clarke, the emigration officer, and that, as a result, mr. clarke gave his certificate that the boats were satisfactory. for the purpose of this inspection two of the boats were lowered to the water and crews exercised in them. the collision took place at 11.40 p. m. (ship's time). about midnight it was realized that the vessel could not live, and at about 12.05 the order was given to uncover the 14 boats under davits. the work began on both sides of the ship under the superintendence of five officers. it did not proceed quickly at first; the crew arrived on the boat deck only gradually, and there was an average of not more than three deck hands to each boat. at 12.20 the order was given to swing out the boats, and this work was at once commenced. there were a few passengers on the deck at this time. mr. lightoller, who was one of the officers directing operations, says that the noise of the steam blowing off was so great that his voice could not be heard, and that he had to give directions with his hands. before this work had been begun, the stewards were rousing the passengers in their different quarters, helping them to put on life-belts and getting them up to the boat deck. at about 12.30 the order was given to place women and children in the boats. this was proceeded with at once and at about 12.45 mr. murdoch gave the order to lower no. 7 boat (on the starboard side) to the water. the work of uncovering, filling, and lowering the boats was done under the following supervision: mr. lowe, the fifth officer, saw to nos. 1, 3, 5, and 7; mr. murdoch (lost) saw also to 1 and 7 and to a and c. mr. moody (lost) looked after nos. 9, 11, 13, and 15. mr. murdoch also saw to 9 and 11. mr. lightoller saw to nos. 4, 6, 8, b, and d. mr. wilde (lost) also saw to 8 and d. mr. lightoller and mr. moody saw to 10 and 16 and mr. lowe to 12 and 14. mr. wilde also assisted at no. 14, mr. boxall helping generally. the evidence satisfies me that the officers did their work very well and without any thought of themselves. capt. smith, the master, mr. wilde, the chief officer, mr. murdoch, the first officer, and mr. moody, the sixth officer, all went down with the ship while performing their duties. the others, with the exception of mr. lightoller, took charge of boats and thus were saved. mr. lightoller was swept off the deck as the vessel went down and was subsequently picked up. so far as can be ascertained the boats left the ship at the following times, but i think it is necessary to say that these, and, indeed, all the times subsequent to the collision which are mentioned by the witnesses, are unreliable. -------------------------------------- | no. | starboard | no. | port side.| | | side. | | | -------------------|------------------| | | _a. m._ | | _a. m._ | | 7 | 12.46 | 6 | 12.55 | | 5 | 12.55 | 8 | 1.10 | | 3 | 1.0 | 10 | 1.20 | | 1 | 1.10 | 12 | 1.25 | | 9 | 1.20 | 14 | 1.30 | | 11 | 1.25 | 16 | 1.35 | | 13 | 1.35 | 2 | 1.45 | | 15 | 1.35 | 4 | 1.56 | | c | 1.40 | d | 2.05 | |[1]a | |[3]b | | --------------------------------------as regards the collapsible boats, c and d were properly lowered; as to a and b, which were on the roof of the officers' house, they were left until the last. there was difficulty in getting these boats down to the deck, and the ship had at this time a list. very few of the deck hands were left in the ship, as they had nearly all gone to man the lifeboats, and the stewards and firemen were unaccustomed to work the collapsible boats. work appears to have been going on in connection with these two boats at the time that the ship sank. the boats seem to have floated from the deck and to have served in the water as rafts. the following table shows the numbers of the male crew, male passengers, and women and children who, according to the evidence, left the ship in each boat. in three or four instances the numbers of women and children are only arrived at by subtracting the numbers of crew and male passengers from the total said to be in the boat (these are in italics). in each case the lowest figures given are taken: key a: starboard side boat. no. b: men of crew. c: men passengers. d: women and children. e: total. f: port side boat no. g: men of crew. h: men passengers. i: women and children. j: total +------+----+----+------+----++------+---+----+------+----+ | a | b | c | d | e || f | g | h | i | j | +------+----+----+------+----++------+---+----+------+----+ | 7 | 3 | 4 | _20_ | 27 || 6 | 2 | 2 | _24_ | 28 | | 5 | 5 | 6 | 30 | 41 || 8 | 4 | | 35 | 39 | | 3 | 15 | 10 | _25_ | 50 || 10 | 5 | | 50 | 55 | | 1 | 7 | 3 | 2 | 12 || 2 | 4 | 1 | 21 | 26 | | 9 | 8 | 6 | 42 | 56 || 12 | 2 | | 40 | 42 | | 11 | 9 | 1 | 60 | 70 || 14 | 8 | | 53 | 63 | | 13 | 5 | | 59 | 64 || 16 | 6 | | 50 | 56 | | 15 | 13 | 4 | _53_ | 70 || 4 | 4 | | 36 | 40 | | c | 5 | 2 | 64 | 71 || d | 2 | 2 | 40 | 44 | | a[1] | | | | || b[1] | | | | | +------+----+----+------+----++------+---+----+------+----+ |total | 70 | 36 | 355 |461 || |37 | 7 | 349 |393 | +------+----+----+------+----++------+---+----+------+----+ general total: men of crew 107 men passengers 43 women and children 704 this shows in all 107 men of the crew, 43 male passengers, and 704 women and children, or a total of 854 in 18 boats. in addition, about 60 persons, two of whom were women, were said to have been transferred, subsequently, from a and b collapsible boats to other boats, or rescued from the water, making a total of 914 who escaped with their lives. it is obvious that these figures are quite unreliable, for only 712 were in fact saved by the _carpathia_, the steamer which came to the rescue at about 4 a. m., and all the boats were accounted for. another remarkable discrepancy is that, of the 712 saved, 189 were in fact men of the crew, 129 were male passengers, and 394 were women and children. in other words, the real proportion of women to men saved was much less than the proportion appearing in the evidence from the boats. allowing for those subsequently picked up, of the 712 persons saved only 652 could have left the _titanic_ in boats, or an average of about 36 per boat. there was a tendency in the evidence to exaggerate the numbers in each boat, to exaggerate the proportion of women to men, and to diminish the number of crew. i do not attribute this to any wish on the part of the witnesses to mislead the court, but to a natural desire to make the best case for themselves and their ship. the seamen who gave evidence were too frequently encouraged when under examination in the witness box to understate the number of crew in the boats. the number of crew actually saved was 189, giving an average of 10 per boat, and if from this figure the 58 men of the 60 persons above mentioned be deducted the average number of crew leaving the ship in the boats must still have been at least 7. the probability, however, is that many of the 60 picked up were passengers. the discipline both among passengers and crew during the lowering of the boats was good, but the organization should have been better, and if it had been it is possible that more lives would have been saved. the real difficulty in dealing with the question of the boats is to find the explanation of so many of them leaving the ship with comparatively few persons in them. no. 1 certainly left with only 12; this was an emergency boat with a carrying capacity of 40. no. 7 left with only 27, and no. 6 with only 28; these were lifeboats with a carrying capacity of 65 each; and several of the others, according to the evidence, and certainly according to the truth, must have left only partly filled. many explanations are forthcoming, one being that the passengers were unwilling to leave the ship. when the earlier boats left, and before the _titanic_ had begun materially to settle down, there was a drop of 65 feet from the boat deck to the water, and the women feared to get into the boats. many people thought that the risk in the ship was less than the risk in the boats. this explanation is supported by the evidence of capt. rostron, of the _carpathia_. he says that after those who were saved got on board his ship he was told by some of them that when the boats first left the _titanic_ the people "really would not be put in the boats; they did not want to go in." there was a large body of evidence from the _titanic_ to the same effect, and i have no doubt that many people, particularly women, refused to leave the deck for the boats. at one time the master appears to have had the intention of putting the people into the boats from the gangway doors in the side of the ship. this was possibly with a view to allay the fears of the passengers, for from these doors the water could be reached by means of ladders, and the lowering of some of the earlier boats when only partly filled may be accounted for in this way. there is no doubt that the master did order some of the partly filled boats to row to a position under one of the doors with the object of taking in passengers at that point. it appears, however, that these doors were never opened. another explanation is that some women refused to leave their husbands. it is said further that the officers engaged in putting the people into the boats feared that the boats might buckle if they were filled; but this proved to be an unfounded apprehension, for one or more boats were completely filled and then successfully lowered to the water. at 12.35 the message from the _carpathia_ was received announcing that she was making for the _titanic_. this probably became known and may have tended to make the passengers still more unwilling to leave the ship, and the lights of a ship (the _californian_) which were seen by many people may have encouraged the passengers to hope that assistance was at hand. these explanations are perhaps sufficient to account for so many of the lifeboats leaving without a full boat load; but i think, nevertheless, that if the boats had been kept a little longer before being lowered, or if the after gangway doors had been opened, more passengers might have been induced to enter the boats. and if women could not be induced to enter the boats, the boats ought then to have been filled up with men. it is difficult to account for so many of the lifeboats being sent from the sinking ship, in a smooth sea, far from full. these boats left behind them many hundreds of lives to perish. i do not, however, desire these observations to be read as casting any reflection on the officers of the ship or on the crew who were working on the boat deck. they all worked admirably, but i think that if there had been better organization the results would have been more satisfactory. i heard much evidence as to the conduct of the boats after the _titanic_ sank and when there must have been many struggling people in the water, and i regret to say that in my opinion some, at all events, of the boats failed to attempt to save lives when they might have done so, and might have done so successfully. this was particularly the case with boat no. 1. it may reasonably have been thought that the risk of making the attempt was too great; but it seems to me that if the attempt had been made by some of these boats it might have been the means of saving a few more lives. subject to these few adverse comments, i have nothing but praise for both passengers and crew. all the witnesses speak well of their behavior. it is to be remembered that the night was dark, the noise of the escaping steam was terrifying, the peril, though perhaps not generally recognized, was imminent and great, and many passengers who were unable to speak or to understand english were being collected together and hurried into the boats. conduct of sir c. duff gordon and mr. ismay. an attack was made in the course of the inquiry on the moral conduct of two of the passengers, namely, sir cosmo duff gordon and mr. bruce ismay. it is no part of the business of the court to inquire into such matters, and i should pass them by in silence if i did not fear that my silence might be misunderstood. the very gross charge against sir cosmo duff gordon that, having got into no. 1 boat, he bribed the men in it to row away from drowning people is unfounded. i have said that the members of the crew in that boat might have made some attempt to save the people in the water, and that such an attempt would probably have been successful; but i do not believe that the men were deterred from making the attempt by any act of sir cosmo duff gordon's. at the same time i think that if he had encouraged the men to return to the position where the _titanic_ had foundered they would probably have made an effort to do so and could have saved some lives. as to the attack on mr. bruce ismay, it resolved itself into the suggestion that, occupying the position of managing director of the steamship company, some moral duty was imposed upon him to wait on board until the vessel foundered. i do not agree. mr. ismay, after rendering assistance to many passengers, found c collapsible, the last boat on the starboard side, actually being lowered. no other people were there at the time. there was room for him and he jumped in. had he not jumped in he would merely have added one more life, namely, his own, to the number of those lost. the third-class passengers. it had been suggested before the inquiry that the third-class passengers had been unfairly treated; that their access to the boat deck had been impeded, and that when at last they reached that deck the first and second class passengers were given precedence in getting places in the boats. there appears to have been no truth in these suggestions. it is no doubt true that the proportion of third-class passengers saved falls far short of the proportion of the first and second class, but this is accounted for by the greater reluctance of the third-class passengers to leave the ship, by their unwillingness to part with their baggage, by the difficulty of getting them up from their quarters, which were at the extreme ends of the ship, and by other similar causes. the interests of the relatives of some of the third-class passengers who had perished were in the hands of mr. harbinson, who attended the inquiry on their behalf. he said at the end of his address to the court: i wish to say distinctly that no evidence has been given in the course of this case which would substantiate a charge that any attempt was made to keep back the third-class passengers. * * * i desire further to say that there is no evidence that when they did reach the boat deck there was any discrimination practiced either by the officers or the sailors in putting them into the boats. i am satisfied that the explanation of the excessive proportion of third-class passengers lost is not to be found in the suggestion that the third-class passengers were in any way unfairly treated. they were not unfairly treated. means taken to procure assistance. as soon as the dangerous condition of the ship was realized, messages were sent by the master's orders to all steamers within reach. at 12.15 a. m. the distress signal cqd was sent. this was heard by several steamships and by cape race. by 12.25 mr. boxall, the fourth officer, had worked out the correct position of the _titanic_, and then another message was sent: "come at once, we have struck a berg." this was heard by the cunard steamer _carpathia_, which was at this time bound from new york to liverpool and 58 miles away. the _carpathia_ answered, saying that she was coming to the assistance of the _titanic_. this was reported to capt. smith on the boat deck. at 12.26 a message was sent out, "sinking; can not hear for noise of steam." many other messages were also sent, but as they were only heard by steamers which were too far away to render help, it is not necessary to refer to them. at 1.45 a message was heard by the _carpathia_, "engine-room full up to boilers." the last message sent out was "cq" which was faintly heard by the steamer _virginian_. this message was sent at 2.17. it thus appears that the marconi apparatus was at work until within a few minutes of the foundering of the _titanic_. meanwhile mr. boxall was sending up distress signals from the deck. these signals (rockets) were sent off at intervals from a socket by no. 1 emergency boat on the boat deck. they were the ordinary distress signals, exploding in the air and throwing off white stars. the firing of these signals began about the time that no. 7 boat was lowered (12.45 a. m.), and it continued until mr. boxall left the ship at about 1.45. mr. boxall was also using a morse light from the bridge in the direction of a ship whose lights he saw about half a point on the port bow of the _titanic_ at a distance, as he thought, of about 5 or 6 miles. he got no answer. in all, mr. boxall fired about eight rockets. there appears to be no doubt that the vessel whose lights he saw was the _californian_. the evidence from the _californian_ speaks of eight rockets having been seen between 12.30 and 1.40. the _californian_ heard none of the _titanic's_ messages; she had only one marconi operator on board and he was asleep. the rescue by the steamship "carpathia." on the 15th of april the steamship _carpathia_, 13,600 tons gross, of the cunard line, mr. arthur henry rostron, master, was on her passage to liverpool from new york. she carried some 740 passengers and 325 crew. on receipt of the _titanic_'s first distress message the captain immediately ordered the ship to be turned around and driven at her highest speed (17-1/2 knots) in the direction of the _titanic_. he also informed the _titanic_ by wireless that he was coming to her assistance, and he subsequently received various messages from her. at about 2.40 a. m. he saw a green flare which, as the evidence shows, was being sent up by mr. boxall in no. 2 boat. from this time until 4 a. m. capt. rostron was altering his course continually in order to avoid icebergs. he fired rockets in answer to the signals he saw from boxall's boat. at 4 o'clock he considered he was practically up to the position given and he stopped his ship at 4.05. he sighted the first boat (no. 2) and picked her up at 4.10. there was then a large number of icebergs around him, and it was just daylight. eventually he picked up in all 13 lifeboats, two emergency boats, and two collapsible boats, all of which were taken on board the _carpathia_, the other boats being abandoned as damaged or useless. from these boats he took on board 712 persons, one of whom died shortly afterwards. the boats were scattered over an area of 4 or 5 miles, and it was 8 a. m. before they had all been picked up. he saw very little wreckage when he got near to the scene of the disaster, only a few deck chairs, cork life belts, etc., and only one body. the position was then 41° 46´ n., 50° 14´ w. the _carpathia_ subsequently returned to new york with the passengers and crew she had rescued. the court desires to record its great admiration of capt. rostron's conduct. he did the very best that could be done. numbers saved. the following were the numbers saved: first class: adult males 57 out of 175, or 32.57 per cent. adult females 140 out of 144, or 97.22 per cent. male children (all saved) 5 female children (all saved) 1 ---- 203 out of 325, or 62.46 per cent. second class: adult males 14 out of 168, or 8.33 per cent. adult females 80 out of 93, or 86.02 per cent. male children (all saved) 11 female children (all saved) 13 ---- 118 out of 285, or 41.40 per cent. third class: adult males 75 out of 462, or 16.23 per cent. adult females 76 out of 165, or 46.06 per cent. male children 13 out of 48, or 27.08 per cent. female children 14 out of 31, or 45.16 per cent. ---- 178 out of 706, or 25.21 per cent. total 499 out of 1,316, or 37.94 per cent. crew saved: deck department 43 out of 66, or 65.15 per cent. engine-room department 72 out of 325, or 22.15 per cent. victualing department (including 20 women out of 23) 97 out of 494, or 19.63 per cent. --- total 212 out of 885, or 23.95 per cent. total on board saved 711 out of 2,201, or 32.30 per cent. passengers and crew: adult males 338 out of 1,667, or 20.27 per cent. adult females 316 out of 425, or 74.35 per cent. children 57 out of 109, or 52.29 per cent. --- total 711 out of 2,201, or 32.30 per cent. v.--the circumstances in connection with the steamship "californian." it is here necessary to consider the circumstances relating to the steamship _californian_. on the 14th of april the steamship _californian_, of the leyland line, mr. stanley lord, master, was on her passage from london, which port she left on april 5, to boston, united states, where she subsequently arrived on april 19. she was a vessel of 6,223 tons gross and 4,038 net. her full speed was 12-1/2 to 13 knots. she had a passenger certificate, but was not carrying any passengers at the time. she belonged to the international mercantile marine co., the owners of the _titanic_. at 7.30 p.m., ship's time, on april 14, a wireless message was sent from this ship to the _antillian_: * * * * * to captain, _antillian_: six thirty p.m., apparent ship's time, latitude 42° 3´ n., longitude 49° 9´ w. three large bergs, 5 miles to southward of us. regards. lord. * * * * * the message was intercepted by the _titanic_, and when the marconi operator (evans) of the _californian_ offered this ice report to the marconi operator of the _titanic_, shortly after 7.30 p. m., the latter replied: it is all right. i heard you sending it to the _antillian_, and i have got it. the _californian_ proceeded on her course s. 89° w. true until 10.20 p. m., ship's time, when she was obliged to stop and reverse engines because she was running into field ice, which stretched as far as could then be seen to the northward and southward. the master told the court that he made her position at that time to be 42° 5´ n., 57° 7´ w. this position is recorded in the log book, which was written up from the scrap log book by the chief officer. the scrap log is destroyed. it is a position about 19 miles n. by e. of the position of the _titanic_ when she foundered, and is said to have been fixed by dead reckoning and verified by observations. i am satisfied that this position is not accurate. the master "twisted her head" to e. n. e. by the compass and she remained approximately stationary until 5.15 a. m. on the following morning. the ship was slowly swinging around to starboard during the night. at about 11 p. m. a steamer's light was seen approaching from the eastward. the master went to evans's room and asked what ships he had. the latter replied: "i think the _titanic_ is near us. i have got her." the master said: "you had better advise the _titanic_ we are stopped and surrounded with ice." this evans did, calling up the _titanic_ and sending: "we are stopped and surrounded by ice." the _titanic_ replied: "keep out." the _titanic_ was in communication with cape race, which station was then sending messages to her. the reason why the _titanic_ answered "keep out" was that her marconi operator could not hear what cape race was saying, as from her proximity the message from the _californian_ was much stronger than any message being taken in by the _titanic_ from cape race, which was much farther off. evans heard the _titanic_ continuing to communicate with cape race up to the time he turned in at 11.30 p. m. the master of the _californian_ states that when observing the approaching steamer as she got nearer he saw more lights, a few deck lights, and also her green side light. he considered that at 11 o'clock she was approximately 6 or 7 miles away, and at some time between 11 and 11.30 he first saw her green light; she was then about 5 miles off. he noticed that about 11.30 she stopped. in his opinion this steamer was of about the same size as the _californian_--a medium-sized steamer, "something like ourselves." from the evidence of mr. groves, third officer of the _californian_, who was the officer of the first watch, it would appear that the master was not actually on the bridge when the steamer was sighted. mr. groves made out two masthead lights; the steamer was changing her bearing slowly as she got closer, and as she approached he went to the chart room and reported this to the master; he added, "she is evidently a passenger steamer." in fact, mr. groves never appears to have had any doubt on this subject. in answer to a question during his examination, "had she much light?" he said, "yes, a lot of light. there was absolutely no doubt of her being a passenger steamer, at least in my mind." gill, the assistant donkey man of the _californian_, who was on deck at midnight, said, referring to this steamer: "it could not have been anything but a passenger boat, she was too large." by the evidence of mr. groves, the master, in reply to his report, said: "call her up on the morse lamp, and see if you can get any answer." this he proceeded to do. the master came up and joined him on the bridge and remarked: "that does not look like a passenger steamer." mr. groves replied: "it is, sir. when she stopped her lights seemed to go out, and i suppose they have been put out for the night." mr. groves states that these lights went out at 11.40, and remembers that time because "one bell was struck to call the middle watch." the master did not join him on the bridge until shortly afterwards, and consequently after the steamer had stopped. in his examination mr. groves admitted that if this steamer's head was turning to port after she stopped, it might account for the diminution of lights, by many of them being shut out. her steaming lights were still visible and also her port side light. the captain only remained upon the bridge for a few minutes. in his evidence he stated that mr. groves had made no observations to him about the steamer's deck lights going out. mr. groves's morse signaling appears to have been ineffectual (although at one moment he thought he was being answered), and he gave it up. he remained on the bridge until relieved by mr. stone, the second officer, just after midnight. in turning the _californian_ over to him, he pointed out the steamer and said: "she has been stopped since 11.40; she is a passenger steamer. at about the moment she stopped she put her lights out." when mr. groves was in the witness box the following questions were put to him by me: speaking as an experienced seaman and knowing what you do know now, do you think that steamer that you know was throwing up rockets, and that you say was a passenger steamer, was the _titanic_?--do i think it? yes. from what i have heard subsequently? yes. most decidedly i do, but i do not put myself as being an experienced man. but that is your opinion as far as your experience goes?--yes, it is, my lord. mr. stone states that the master, who was also up (but apparently not on the bridge), pointed out the steamer to him with instructions to tell him if her bearings altered or if she got any closer; he also stated that mr. groves had called her up on the morse lamp and had received no reply. mr. stone had with him during the middle watch an apprentice named gibson, whose attention was first drawn to the steamer's lights at about 12.20 a. m. he could see a masthead light, her red light (with glasses), and a "glare of white lights on her afterdeck." he first thought her masthead light was flickering and next thought it was a morse light, "calling us up." he replied, but could not get into communication, and finally came to the conclusion that it was, as he had first supposed, the masthead light flickering. sometime after 12.30 a. m., gill, the donkey man, states that he saw two rockets fired from the ship which he had been observing, and about 1.10 a. m., mr. stone reported to the captain by voice pipe, that he had seen five white rockets from the direction of the steamer. he states that the master answered, "are they company's signals?" and that he replied, "i do not know, but they appear to me to be white rockets." the master told him to "go on morsing," and, when he received any information, to send the apprentice down to him with it. gibson states that mr. stone informed him that he had reported to the master, and that the master had said the steamer was to be called up by morse light. this witness thinks the time was 12.55; he at once proceeded again to call the steamer up by morse. he got no reply, but the vessel fired three more white rockets; these rockets were also seen by mr. stone. both mr. stone and the apprentice kept the steamer under observation, looking at her from time to time with their glasses. between 1 o'clock and 1.40 some conversation passed between them. mr. stone remarked to gibson: "look at her now, she looks very queer out of water, her lights look queer." he also is said by gibson to have remarked, "a ship is not going to fire rockets at sea for nothing;" and admits himself that he may possibly have used that expression. mr. stone states that he saw the last of the rockets fired at about 1.40, and after watching the steamer for some 20 minutes more he sent gibson down to the master. i told gibson to go down to the master, and be sure and wake him, and tell him that altogether we had seen eight of these white lights like white rockets in the direction of this other steamer; that this steamer was disappearing in the southwest, that we had called her up repeatedly on the morse lamp and received no information whatsoever. gibson states that he went down to the chart room and told the master; that the master asked him if all the rockets were white, and also asked him the time. gibson stated that at this time the master was awake. it was five minutes past two, and gibson returned to the bridge to mr. stone and reported. they both continued to keep the ship under observation until she disappeared. mr. stone describes this as "a gradual disappearing of all her lights, which would be perfectly natural with a ship steaming away from us." at about 2.40 a. m. mr. stone again called up the master by voice pipe and told him that the ship from which he had seen the rockets come had disappeared bearing sw. 1/2 w., the last he had seen of the light; and the master again asked him if he was certain there was no color in the lights. "i again assured him they were all white, just white rockets." there is considerable discrepancy between the evidence of mr. stone and that of the master. the latter states that he went to the voice pipe at about 1.15, but was told then of a white rocket (not five white rockets). moreover, between 1.30 and 4.30, when he was called by the chief officer (mr. stewart), he had no recollection of anything being reported to him at all, although he remembered gibson opening and closing the chart-room door. mr. stewart relieved mr. stone at 4 a. m. the latter told him he had seen a ship 4 or 5 miles off when he went on deck at 12 o'clock, and at 1 o'clock he had seen some white rockets, and that the moment the ship started firing them she started to steam away. just at this time (about 4 a. m.) a steamer came in sight with two white masthead lights and a few lights amidships. he asked mr. stone whether he thought this was the steamer which had fired rockets, and mr. stone said he did not think it was. at 4.30 he called the master and informed him that mr. stone had told him he had seen rockets in the middle watch. the master said, "yes, i know; he has been telling me." the master came at once on to the bridge, and apparently took the fresh steamer for the one which had fired rockets, and said, "she looks all right; she is not making any signals now." this mistake was not corrected. he, however, had the wireless operator called. at about 6 a. m. capt. lord heard from the _virginian_ that the "_titanic_ had struck a berg, passengers in boats, ship sinking;" and he at once started through the field ice at full speed for the position given. capt. lord stated that about 7.30 a. m. he passed the _mount temple_, stopped, and that she was in the vicinity of the position given him as where the _titanic_ had collided (lat. 41° 46´ n.; long. 50° 14´ w.). he saw no wreckage there, but did later on near the _carpathia_, which ship he closed soon afterwards, and he stated that the position where he subsequently left this wreckage was 41° 33´ n.; 50° 1´ w. it is said in the evidence of mr. stewart that the position of the _californian_ was verified by stellar observations at 7.30 p. m. on the sunday evening, and that he verified the captain's position given when the ship stopped (42° 5´ n.; 50° 7´ w.) as accurate on the next day. the position in which the wreckage was said to have been seen on the monday morning was verified by sights taken on that morning. all the officers are stated to have taken sights, and mr. stewart in his evidence remarks that they all agreed. if it is admitted that these positions were correct, then it follows that the _titanic_'s position as given by that ship when making the cqd. signal was approximately s. 16° w. (true), 19 miles from the _californian_; and further that the position in which the _californian_ was stopped during the night, was 30 miles away from where the wreckage was seen by her in the morning, or that the wreckage had drifted 11 miles in a little more than five hours. there are contradictions and inconsistencies in the story as told by the different witnesses. but the truth of the matter is plain. the _titanic_ collided with the berg at 11.40. the vessel seen by the _californian_ stopped at this time. the rockets sent up from the _titanic_ were distress signals. the _californian_ saw distress signals. the number sent up by the _titanic_ was about eight. the _californian_ saw eight. the time over which the rockets from the _titanic_ were sent up was from about 12.45 to 1.45 o'clock. it was about this time that the _californian_ saw the rockets. at 2.40 mr. stone called to the master that the ship from which he had seen the rockets had disappeared. at 2.20 a. m. the _titanic_ had foundered. it was suggested that the rockets seen by the _californian_ were from some other ship, not the _titanic_. but no other ship to fit this theory has ever been heard of. these circumstances convince me that the ship seen by the _californian_ was the _titanic_, and if so, according to capt. lord, the two vessels were about 5 miles apart at the time of the disaster. the evidence from the _titanic_ corroborates this estimate, but i am advised that the distance was probably greater, though not more than 8 to 10 miles. the ice by which the _californian_ was surrounded was loose ice extending for a distance of not more than 2 or 3 miles in the direction of the _titanic_. the night was clear and the sea was smooth. when she first saw the rockets, the _californian_ could have pushed through the ice to the open water without any serious risk and so have come to the assistance of the _titanic_. had she done so she might have saved many if not all of the lives that were lost. vi.--the board of trade's administration. the court was invited by the board of trade- "to report upon the rules and regulations made under the merchant shipping acts, 1894-1906, and the administration of those acts, and of such rules and regulations so far as the consideration thereof is material to this casualty" (no. 26 of the questions submitted to the court by the board of trade). charges were made against the board of trade during the progress of the inquiry of a twofold kind. first, it was said that the board had been negligent in that they had failed to keep up to date their rules and regulations relating generally to the provision of life-saving appliances at sea, and, secondly, it was said that their officials had in the particular instance of the _titanic_ failed to exercise due care in the supervision of the vessel's plans and the inspection of the work done upon her. with reference to the first of these charges, it was reduced in the course of the inquiry to a charge of neglect to keep the board's scale for the provision of lifeboat accommodation up to date. the circumstances are these: in march, 1886, the board appointed a departmental committee, consisting of three of their principal officers, to inquire into the question of boats, rafts, and life-saving apparatus carried by sea-going merchant ships. in their report this committee pointed out that, as regards boats for ocean-going steamers carrying large numbers of passengers, the boats would be of little use in saving life (although they might for a time prolong its existence) unless succor were at hand from other ships or from proximity to shore; and speaking with special reference to passenger steam vessels carrying emigrants across the atlantic to ports on the east coast of north america, they said as follows: considering the number of vessels employed in this trade, and the large number of passengers they carry, and also taking into consideration the stormy character of the ocean they have to cross, and the thick and foggy weather encountered, we think this class is the most important of any, and we can not pass over the fact that of late years this traffic has been carried on with remarkable immunity from loss of life. the boat accommodation these vessels are forced to carry when sailing with emigrants is regulated by the scale in the passengers act, 1855, which provides for boat accommodation for 216 people as a maximum, so that, supposing a vessel leaves with 1,000 passengers and 200 crew under the present statutory requirements, she need only carry sufficient boat accommodation for 216 of these people. thus it will be seen that the boats carried by this class of vessels are also quite inadequate as an effectual means of saving life should a disaster happen to a ship with her full complement of passengers on board. we are glad to be able to say that there are many liberal and careful shipowners who do all in their power to provide for the safety of their passengers by equipping their vessels with boats far in excess of the number required by statute. but, at the same time, there are others carrying large numbers of emigrants who do no more than they are required to do by law. we have gone into this question with reference to this class of vessels very fully, and have visited many of them, and we think that the boats required by act should be increased 100 per cent., and in addition to them that the owners should be induced to carry sufficient collapsible boats and approved rafts, so that each ship shall have sufficient life-saving gear for all on board at any one time, provided, as said before, that no ship need carry more boat accommodation than is sufficient for all on board at that time. in 1887 a select committee of the house of commons, of which lord charles beresford was the chairman, was appointed to report on saving life at sea, and they found in their report- that many passenger ships could not, without great inconvenience, carry so many of the ordinary wooden boats as would suffice to carry the whole of the passengers and crew with safety in bad weather. under such circumstances the crew would not be sufficient to man so many boats; nor could they all be got into the water in sufficient time in the event of very rapid foundering. having regard, however, to the fact that accidents occur probably as often in moderate weather as in bad, and having regard also to the fact that the very cause of the accident frequently incapacitates many of the boats, and to the further fact that an insufficiency of boats undoubtedly tends to cause panic, we are of opinion that all sea-going passenger ships should be compelled by law to carry such boats, and other life-saving apparatus, as would in the aggregate best provide for the safety of all on board in moderate weather. as a result of these reports, the merchant shipping (life-saving appliances) act, 1888, appears to have been passed, under which rules were made by the board of trade at different dates. the merchant shipping act, 1894, repealed the act of 1888, and substituted therefor sections 427 to 431 and the seventeenth schedule of the new act. under this act (1894) a table showing the minimum number of boats to be placed under davits and their minimum cubic contents was issued by the board. it was dated march 9, 1894, and came into operation on june 1 of that year. this table was based on the gross tonnage of the vessels to which it was to apply, and not upon the numbers carried, and it provided that the number of boats and their capacity should increase as the tonnage increased. the table, however, stopped short at the point where the gross tonnage of the vessels reached "10,000 and upwards." as to all such vessels, whatever their size might be, the minimum number of boats under davits was fixed by the table at 16, with a total minimum capacity of 5,500 cubic feet. but as regarded emigrant steamships there was a rule which provided that if the boats under davits required by the table did not furnish sufficient accommodation for all on board, then additional boats of approved description (whether under davits or not) or approved life rafts should be carried, and that these additional boats or rafts should be of at least such carrying capacity that they and the boats required by the table should provide together in vessels of 5,000 tons and upwards three-fourths more than the minimum cubic contents required by the table, so that in the case of an emigrant ship such as the _titanic_ the requirements under the rules and table together exacted a provision of 9,625 cubic feet of lifeboat and raft accommodation (5,500 feet in boats under davits with three-fourths, namely, 4,125, added). taken at 10 cubic feet per person, this would be equivalent to a provision for 962 persons. no doubt at the time these rules were made and this table was drawn up it was thought that, having regard to the size of vessels then built and building, it was unnecessary to carry the table further. the largest emigrant steamer then afloat was the _lucania_, of 12,952 tons. in the report of the select committee of the house of commons a reference to water-tight bulkheads had been made, which was in the following terms: though the question of construction was clearly not included in the reference to the committee, still they think it only right to state, after having heard the evidence, that the proper placing of bulkheads, so as to enable a ship to keep afloat for some length of time after an accident has occurred, is most important for saving life at sea, and a thing upon which the full efficiency of life-saving appliances largely depends. this passage probably explains the insertion in the board of trade's rules for life-saving appliances of rule no. 12, which is as follows: _water-tight compartments._--when ships of any class are divided into efficient water-tight compartments to the satisfaction of the board of trade, they shall only be required to carry additional boats, rafts and buoyant apparatus of one-half of the capacity required by these rules, but the exemption shall not extend to life jackets or similar approved articles of equal buoyancy suitable to be worn on the person. if this rule had become applicable to the _titanic_, then the total cubical lifeboat or raft accommodation which she would have been required to carry would not have been more than 7,562 (equivalent to accommodation for 756 persons). it did not, however, become applicable for the owners never required the board of trade to express any opinion under the rule as to the efficiency of the water-tight compartments. the _titanic_, in fact, carried boat accommodation for 1,178 persons, a number far in excess of the requirements of the table and rules, and therefore no concession under rule 12 was needed. speaking generally, recourse to this rule (12) by shipowners has been so insignificant that the rule itself may be regarded as of no practical account. the foregoing rules with the table were laid before parliament in the usual way, and so received the required statutory sanction. after 1894 steamers were built of a much larger tonnage than 10,000, the increase culminating in the _titanic_, with a gross tonnage of 46,328. as the vessels built increased in size, one would have thought the necessity for increased lifeboat accommodation would grow; but the rules and table remained stationary and nothing was done to them by way of change. the explanation of this long delay (from 1894-1912) was given before me by sir alfred chalmers, who had served under the board of trade as nautical adviser from 1896 to august, 1911. he is now retired. i think it will be well if i give his explanation in his own words. he says: i considered the matter very closely from time to time. i first of all considered the record of the trade--that is to say, the record of the casualties--and to see what immunity from loss there was. i found it was the safest mode of travel in the world, and i thought it was neither right nor the duty of a state department to impose regulations upon that mode of travel as long as the record was a clean one. secondly, i found that as ships grew bigger there were such improvements made in their construction that they were stronger and better ships, both from the point of view of water-tight compartments and also absolute strength, and i considered that that was the road along which the shipowners were going to travel, and that they should not be interfered with. i then went to the maximum that is down in the table, 16 boats and upward, together with the supplementary boats, and i considered from my experience that that was the maximum number that could be rapidly dealt with at sea and that could be safely housed without incumbering the vessel's decks unduly. in the next place i considered that the traffic was very safe on account of the routes, the definite routes being agreed upon by the different companies, which tended to lessen the risk of collision and to avoid ice and fog. then again, there was the question of wireless telegraphy, which had already come into force on board of these passenger ships. i was seized of the fact that in july, 1901, the _lucania_ had been fitted with wireless telegraphy, and the cunard line generally fitted it during that year to all their ships. the allan line fitted it in 1902, and i am not sure that in 1904 it had not become quite general on the trans-atlantic ships. that, of course, entered into my consideration as well. then another point was the manning. it was quite evident to me that if you went on crowding the ships with boats you would require a crew which were not required otherwise for the safe navigation of the ship, or for the proper upkeep of the ship, but you are providing a crew which would be carried uselessly across the ocean, that never would be required to man the boats. then the last point, and not the least, was this, that the voluntary action of the owners was carrying them beyond the requirements of our scale, and when voluntary action on the part of shipowners is doing that, i think that any state department should hold its hand before it steps in to make a hard and fast scale for that particular type of shipping. i considered that that scale fitted all sizes of ships that were then afloat, and i did not consider it necessary to increase it, and that was my advice to sir walter howell. i appreciate this explanation, and i think there is much force in it. at the same time, it seems to me that it does not justify the delay. even taking all these matters into consideration, it can not be that the provision for boat accommodation made in 1894 for vessels of 10,000 tons and upward remained sufficient to 1910, when vessels of 45,000 tons were being built. two considerations demonstrate this. the first is that some shipowners recognized the insufficiency of the requirements of the board of trade, and voluntarily exceeded those requirements by providing larger boat accommodation than the old rules and table exacted. the second is that shortly before sir alfred chalmers left the board of trade, the board had begun to direct attention to the amending of their rules in this connection. it appears that in november, 1910, a question was asked in the house of commons as to whether the attention of the president of the board of trade had been called to the fact that the _olympic_, a sister ship of the _titanic_, was provided with 14 lifeboats only. the answer given was that the _olympic_ (which was then in course of construction) would carry 14 lifeboats and two ordinary boats of an aggregate capacity of 9,752 cubic feet, which was in excess of the requirements of the statutory rules. on february 15, 1911, a further question was asked as to the date of the last regulations, and whether, having regard to the increased tonnage of modern ships, the desirability of revising the regulations would be considered by the board of trade. the answer by the president was: those regulations were last revised in 1894. the question of their further revision is engaging the serious attention of the board of trade, and i have decided to refer the matter to the merchant shipping advisory committee for consideration and advice. three days afterwards, namely, on february 18, 1911, a circular letter was sent out by the board of trade to the board's principal officers at liverpool, london, and glasgow asking each of those gentlemen to draft such an extension of the existing boat scale as he might think satisfactory and reasonable for the conditions of large passenger steamers. this circular letter was answered by the principal officer in glasgow (mr. harris) on february 24, 1911, by the principal officer in london (mr. park) on february 27, 1911, and by the principal officer in liverpool (mr. young) on march 3, 1911. it is sufficient to say of these answers that they all suggested a large extension of the statutory requirements. meanwhile, namely, on february 28, 1911, mr. archer, the board of trade's principal ship surveyor, had also drawn up a scale. this was a more exacting scale than that of any of the three principal officers. by his scale a vessel of the tonnage of the _titanic_ would have had to carry boat accommodation equivalent to at least 24,937 cubic feet, which would have been sufficient to hold all and more than all the persons who were on board at the time of the disaster (2,201). it would not, however, have been nearly sufficient to have held all that the vessel might lawfully have carried, viz, 3,547, and it is to be observed with reference to mr. archer's scale that in it he suggests an extension of rule 12, by which (if the vessel were divided into efficient water-tight compartments) the total boat accommodation might be reduced much more than rule 12 as it stands would permit. if this reduction be taken into account, the boat accommodation would fall so that it would be sufficient only for 1,750 persons. mr. archer's view was that shipowners should be encouraged to increase the floatability of the ships they built, and that the way to encourage them was to relax the legal requirements as to boats as their plans advanced in that direction. the great object was so to build the ship that in the event of a disaster she would be her own lifeboat.[4] having obtained these four reports, the board of trade, on april 4, 1911, submitted the matter to their advisory committee, and obtained the committee's report on july 4, 1911. the following are copies (with omissions of immaterial passages) of the board of trade's letter of april 4, 1911, and of the advisory committee's report of july 4, 1911: * * * * * board of trade, marine department, 7 whitehall gardens, _london, sw., april 4, 1911_. sir: i am directed by the board of trade to inclose herewith, for the information of the merchant shipping advisory committee, a copy of a question asked in the house of commons on february 15 and of the answer given by the president of the board of trade with reference to the life-saving appliances rules made under section 427 of the merchant shipping act, 1894. the board are of opinion that the table in the appendix to the rules should be extended upward in the form indicated in the accompanying scale, so as to provide for vessels of tonnage up to 50,000 tons gross and upward. it appears to the board that the number of boats and the boat capacity need not necessarily increase in a regular proportion according to the increase in tonnage, and that due regard should be paid to what is reasonable and practicable in passenger steamers exceeding 10,000 tons. * * * i am to state that the board would be obliged if the merchant shipping advisory committee would be so good as to suggest in what manner the scale (see accompanying copy) should be continued upward, having due regard to the considerations indicated above. i am further to state that the board would be glad to learn whether the advisory committee are of opinion that rule 12 should or should not be revised so as to exempt altogether from the requirement of additional boats or rafts those vessels which are divided into efficient water-tight compartments to the satisfaction of the board of trade. * * * i am, etc., walter j. howell. the secretary, _merchant shipping advisory committee_ * * * * * merchant shipping advisory committee, _july 4, 1911_. sir: we have the honor to report that your letter of april 4 with reference to the minimum number of lifeboats to be earned on vessels of 10,000 tons gross tonnage and upward, and your letter of may 17 on the subject of the depth of lifeboats, have been very carefully considered by the merchant shipping advisory committee and that it was unanimously decided at a meeting held on the 29th ultimo to adopt the report of a subcommittee which was specially appointed to inquire into these questions. a copy of the report is accordingly forwarded herewith, and the committee desire us to suggest for the consideration of the board of trade that effect should be given to the recommendations contained in it. we are, etc., norman hill, _chairman_. r. w. matthew, _secretary_. sir walter j. howell, _assistant secretary marine department, board of trade_. * * * * * report of the life-saving appliances subcommittee to the merchant shipping advisory committee. in accordance with the decision of the merchant shipping advisory committee, at their meeting on friday, april 28, we have given careful consideration to the latter of april 4 from the board of trade, in which the committee were asked to advise: (1) as to the manner in which the table in the appendix to the life-saving appliances rules should be extended so as to provide for vessels of tonnage up to 50,000 tons gross and upward; and (2) as to whether rule 12 should or should not be revised so as to exempt altogether from the requirement of additional boats and (or) rafts, those vessels which are divided into efficient water-tight compartments to the satisfaction of the board of trade. in considering these questions, we have had specially in mind the fact that the number of passengers carried does not necessarily increase in proportion to the increase in the tonnage of the vessel. this is particularly true in the case of vessels exceeding 10,000 tons, a type of vessel which is practically only built to provide special accommodation for large numbers of first and second class passengers. similarly there is no fixed relation between the tonnage of vessels and the deck space available for the carrying of lifeboats under davits. increase in the length of a vessel is only one of the factors, and often not the most material factor contributing to the increase in its tonnage, and it should also be remembered, in estimating the space available for the launching of lifeboats, that it is impossible to place davits forward of the bridge, and very undesirable to have them on the quarters of the vessel. we are strongly of opinion that every encouragement should be given to secure the provision of vessels which by their construction have been rendered as unsinkable as possible, and which are provided with efficient means for communicating with the shore or with other vessels in case of disaster. in view of these considerations, we have agreed upon the following recommendations: 1. that it is questionable whether it is practicable to increase the number of davits. 2. that any increase in the number of lifeboats to be carried can probably be best effected by providing for the launching of further boats from the existing davits. 3. that the table should be extended in the manner indicated below, viz.: -------------------------+-------------+---------------+--------------- | | minimum | | | number of | total minimum | minimum | additional | cubic | number of | boats to be | contents of gross tonnage. | boats to be | readily | boats required | placed under| available | by | davits. | for attachment| columns | | to davits. | 2 and 3. -------------------------+-------------+---------------+--------------- | | | _cubic feet._ 10,000 and under 12,000 | 16 | --- | 5,500 12,000 and under 20,000 | 16 | 2 | 6,200 20,000 and under 35,000 | 16 | 4 | 6,900 35,000 and under 45,000 | 16 | 6 | 7,600 45,000 and upward | 16 | 8 | 8,300 -------------------------+-------------+---------------+---------------it is further recommended that all passenger vessels of 10,000 tons gross tonnage and upward should be required to be fitted with wireless telegraphy apparatus. 4. that the rules should be amended so as to admit of decked lifeboats of an approved type being stowed on top of one another or under an open lifeboat, subject to suitable arrangements being made for launching promptly the boats so stowed. 5. that the additional boats and rafts required under the provisions of division a, class 1(d) of the life-saving appliances rules shall be of at least such carrying capacity that they, and the boats required by columns 2 and 3 of the above table, provide together three-fourths more than the minimum cubic contents required by column 4 of that table. 6. that vessels divided into efficient water-tight compartments to the satisfaction of the board of trade should (provided they are fitted with wireless telegraphy apparatus) be exempt from the requirement of additional boats and (or) rafts. the committee suggest, in this connection, that the board of trade should review the requirements designed to attain the standards as to water-tight compartments at present enforced by them under rule 12, having regard to the developments of shipbuilding since the report of the committee on the spacing and construction of water-tight bulkheads. we have also had before us the board's further letter of may 17 inquiring whether, in the opinion of the advisory committee, it would be advisable to prescribe a maximum depth for lifeboats as compared with their breadth, and, if so, what that proportion should be. in connection with this letter we have been supplied by the board of trade with reports from their principal officers in great britain, giving the dimensions and cubic capacities of the various kinds of boats on five typical ships in each of eight ports. we recommend that the board should be advised to alter the life-saving appliances rules so as to provide that, in future, the depth of lifeboats supplied to a british merchant vessel shall not exceed 44 per cent. of their breadth. norman hill. s. cross. geo. n. hampson. t. royden. thomas spencer. a. m. carlisle. wm. theodore doxford. robert a. ogilvie. t. rome. j. havelock wilson. * * * * * it will be observed that if effect had been given by the board of trade to the report of the advisory committee the requirements for a vessel of the size of the _titanic_ would have reached 14,525 cubic feet (8,300 plus three-fourths of 8,300, namely, 6,225), with, however, this qualification that if the vessel were divided into efficient water-tight compartments (as she probably was) and fitted with wireless telegraphy (as she certainly was) a provision of a boat capacity of 8,300 cubic feet, equivalent to space for 830 persons, would have been legally sufficient. this would have been much less than the accommodation with which the _titanic_ when she put to sea was, in fact, provided (namely, for 1,178 persons). effect, however, was not given to the report. a question arose with reference to the dimensions of lifeboats, and it was thought better to get that question settled before proceeding to revise the rules. the examination of this question involved making several experiments which caused delay; and it was not until april 16, 1912, that a reply was sent by the board of trade to the advisory committee. it will be noticed that the date of this reply is just after the disaster to the _titanic_ became known. i am, however, quite satisfied that instructions for the preparation of this letter had been given in the offices of the board of trade some days before the 16th, and that the letter was not sent in consequence of the disaster. it is desirable to set it out. * * * * * board of trade, marine department, 7 whitehall gardens, _london, s. w., april 16, 1912_. sir: with reference to your letter of the 4th july last respecting certain questions raised in connection with the proposed revision of the life-saving appliances rules, i am directed by the board of trade to state, for the information of the advisory committee, that they have given very careful consideration to the report of the life-saving appliances subcommittee which was forwarded with your letter. as regards the recommendations with reference to the proposed extension of the table (appendix to the life saving appliances rules) showing the minimum number of boats to be placed under davits, the board are glad to observe that the committee agree that alterations and additions are now necessary to meet the changed conditions due to recent developments in the size of passenger steamships and in the number of persons which these vessels can accommodate. the board of trade note that the gradations of tonnage in the extension of the scale suggested by the advisory committee are not the same as those in the form of scale submitted to them by the board; while the increase in the number of boats is not in the number to be placed under davits, but in the number of additional boats required to be readily available for attachments to davits. it is observed that the committee hold the view that "it is questionable whether it is practicable to increase the number of davits," and "that any increase in the number of lifeboats to be carried can probably be best effected by providing for the launching of further boats from the existing davits." the board presume that, in arriving at these conclusions, the committee have had regard to ships already built rather than to new ships, as they see no reason why there would be any difficulty in having more than eight pairs of davits on each side of the ship, provided that the requirements of life-saving appliances rules were known before the plans were prepared. the board are of opinion that a very careful and thorough revision of the table should now be made, and i am to transmit herewith a copy of a memorandum and tables prepared by the professional advisor to the marine department, containing a full and considered opinion on the subject of the extension of the boat scale and cognate questions. as regards the proposed amendment of the rules, so as to admit of decked lifeboats of an approved type being stowed one above another, or under an open lifeboat, i am to state that this question is now under consideration, and a communication will be addressed to you shortly on the subject. with reference to the advisory committee's recommendation regarding the amendment of rule 12 of the general rules, the board desire me to state that the questions raised in the recommendation are of wide application and of such importance that the board do not think that they can be adequately considered except by a committee of equal standing to the committee which reported in 1891 on the spacing and construction of water-tight bulkheads in the mercantile marine. the board have the question of the appointment of a committee under consideration. in connection with the advisory committee's recommendation that the depth of lifeboats shall not exceed 44 per cent. of their breadth, i am to transmit herewith, for their consideration, a draft amendment of rules nos. 1, 2, and 3 of the general rules with reference to the construction of ships' boats. the board have made full inquiry into the question of the construction of ships' boats, and obtained some useful information as to the average depth of boat which is deemed desirable for safety and utility, and the ratio of that depth to the breadth, and they attach so much importance to this element of boat construction that they think it should receive the careful attention of the committee. the board think that the committee, in the light of this additional information, may reconsider the opinions expressed on this point in their letter of july 4. i am therefore to transmit herewith copies of memoranda by the professional adviser to the marine department and the acting principal ship surveyor. the board desire me to state that they would be glad to be furnished with the advisory committee's views as to the application of the proposed new rules and boat scale, e. g., whether they should apply to ships already built, and if so, to what extent. they regard it as of great importance, on the one hand, that all british vessels should be provided with a proper and sufficient equipment of life-saving appliances, and, on the other, that regulations should not be enforced without notice which would necessitate important structural alterations and consequent heavy expense in vessels already built. i am to add that in order to make the constitution of the committee, when considering this question, agree with that of the statutory life-saving appliances committee indicated in the seventeenth schedule to the merchant shipping act, 1894, the board have followed the course adopted on previous occasions, and have invited lloyd's register of british and foreign shipping and the institute of london underwriters to select a representative who will be available to sit on the advisory committee when the question is under consideration. i am, etc., walter j. howell. the secretary, _merchant shipping advisory committee_, _7, whitehall gardens, s. w_. * * * * * extension of life-saving apparatus tables. it will be seen that i have given priority in importance to the form of ships' boats rather than to their number on the principle that a few reliable boats are of greater value than a large number of indifferent ones; but if the former desirable condition can be obtained by the proposed alterations in our rules as to measurement, etc., we are freer to approach the question of adding to the number of boats provided for in the existing tables. as with the question of ratio d: b dealt with by the advisory committee last year, so with the question of boat increase and relative increase of cubic capacity dealt with by them on the same occasion, perhaps the board might inform the committee that they are not satisfied that a slightly different recommendation might not have been made had the matter been still further considered at the time. referring to the table of boat capacities computed by them particularly it might be helpful if the board laid before them for consideration the table, which i attach hereto and submit, as showing a more reasonable proportionate increase in capacity than appears so far, in my opinion, in the other papers before us. it will be seen in this statement that the number of boats recommended by the advisory committee is practically retained, but the unit of increase in capacity is put at 300 cubic feet. perhaps i should state here what actuated me in fixing upon this rate of increase. i realized that in all probability it would become the practice on these large liners to provide boats under davits which would contain the entire cubic feet required by the l. s. a. rules, that is--the quantity required by rule under davits plus the addition of three-fourths and it occurred to me that if, after the figure 5,500 cubic feet the increase of capacity were uniform and moderate it would result in a total at 1-3/4 which would by incidence fit in with the scale of boats already recommended as requisite in the report of the advisory committee and in my own, i. e., assuming that the boats are of 500 cubic feet. example: take a vessel of 30,000 tons and under 35,000 tons, according to the table i submit she would be required to have by the 1-3/4 rule a total boat capacity of 12,500 cubic feet which at 500 cubic feet per boat equals 24 boats nearly. there should be no difficulty on the large ships in carrying this quantity under davits, i. e., 18 directly under davits and six boats inboard. please see incidental table attached. (mr. a. h. young, professional adviser of the board of trade.) march 28, 1912. * * * * * _proposed extension of boat scale._ ---------------------------+----------+----------------- | | minimum | | total cubic | | contents of gross tons. | boats. | boats | | required to | | be carried | | under | | davits. ---------------------------+----------+----------------- | | _cubic feet._ 10,000 and under 12,000 | 16 | 5,500 12,000 and under 15,000 | 18 | 5,800 15,000 and under 20,000 | 20 | 6,100 20,000 and under 25,000 | 22 | 6,400 25,000 and under 30,000 | 24 | 6,700 30,000 and under 35,000 | 24 | 7,000 35,000 and under 40,000 | 24 | 7,300 40,000 and under 45,000 | 24 | 7,600 45,000 and under 50,000 | 26 | 7,900 50,000 and upward | 26 | 8,200 ---------------------------+----------+-----------------please see the accompanying incidental table showing how this number of boats can provide for the three-quarters additional capacity also, if of about 500 cubic feet per boat to 600 cubic feet. a. h. y. * * * * * _table of incidence (informative)._ -----------------------+------+-----+-----------+------+---------- | | | | |equivalent | | | | | boats. |number|cubic|cubic feet |total |-----+---- gross tons. | of |feet.|additional.|cubic | at | at |boats.| | | feet | 500 | 600 | | | | at |cubic|cubic | | | |1-3/4.|feet.|feet. -----------------------+------+-----+-----------+------+-----+---- 10,000 and under 12,000| 16 |5,500| 4,125 | 9,625| 19 | 16 12,000 and under 15,000| 18 |5,800| 4,350 |10,150| 20 | 16 15,000 and under 20,000| 20 |6,100| 4,575 |10,675| 21 | 18 20,000 and under 25,000| 22 |6,400| 4,800 |11,200| 22 | 19 25,000 and under 30,000| 24 |6,700| 5,025 |11,725| 24 | 20 30,000 and under 35,000| 24 |7,000| 5,250 |12,250| 24 | 20 35,000 and under 40,000| 24 |7,300| 5,475 |12,775| 25 | 21 40,000 and under 45,000| 24 |7,600| 5,700 |13,300| 26 | 22 45,000 and under 50,000| 26 |7,900| 5,925 |13,825| 27 | 23 50,000 and upward | 26 |8,200| 6,150 |14,350| 28 | 24 -----------------------+------+-----+-----------+------+-----+----one-fourth of the above boats may be carried inboard, but they should not exceed 500 cubic feet in capacity, so that they may be readily drawn up to the davits. a. h. y. march 30, 1912. * * * * * draft amendment of general rules. (1) _boats._--all boats shall be constructed and properly equipped as provided by these rules, and shall be of such form and proportions that they shall have sufficient freeboard, and ample stability in a seaway, when loaded with their full complement of persons and equipment. all thwart and side seats must be fitted as low in the boat as practicable, and bottom boards must be fitted so that the thwarts shall not be more than 2 feet 9 inches above them. all boats and other life-saving appliances are to be kept ready for use to the satisfaction of the board of trade. internal buoyancy apparatus may be constructed of wood, or of copper or yellow metal of not less than 18 ounces to the superficial foot, or of other durable material. section (a). a boat of this section shall be a lifeboat of whaleboat form, properly constructed of wood or metal, having for every 10 cubic feet of her capacity, computed as in rule (2), at least 1 cubic foot of strong and serviceable inclosed air-tight compartments, so constructed that water can not find its way into them. in the case of metal boats an addition will have to be made to the cubic capacity of the air-tight compartments, so as to give them buoyancy equal to that of the wooden boat. sec. (b). a boat of this section shall be a lifeboat, of whaleboat form properly constructed of wood or metal, having inside and outside buoyancy apparatus together equal in efficiency to the buoyancy apparatus provided for a boat of section (a). at least one-half of the buoyancy apparatus must be attached to the outside of the boat. sec. (c). a boat of this section shall be a lifeboat, properly constructed of wood or metal, having some buoyancy apparatus attached to the inside and (or) outside of the boat, equal in efficiency to one-half of the buoyancy apparatus provided for a boat of section (a) or section (b). at least one-half of the buoyancy apparatus must be attached to the outside of the boat. sec. (d). a boat of this section shall be a properly constructed boat of wood or metal. sec. (e). a boat of this section shall be a boat of approved construction, form, and material, and may be collapsible. (2) _cubic capacity._--the cubic capacity of an open boat and of a deck boat of section (d) or section (e) shall be ascertained by multiplying the product of the length, breadth, and depth by 6, subject, however, to the following provisions: the length shall be measured from the foreside of the rabbet on the stem to the afterside of the rabbet on the sternpost, and the breadth shall be measured from the outside of plank to the outside of plank amidships. the actual depth shall be measured from the top of the gunwale to the top of the bottom plank next to the keel, but the depth used in calculating the cubic capacity shall not in any case exceed 3.6 feet; and if the actual depth measured is equal to or less than 3.6 feet, the depth used in calculating the cubic capacity shall not exceed 45 per cent of the breadth measured, as indicated above. if the oars are pulled in rowlocks, the bottom of the rowlock is to be considered as the gunwale in measuring the depth of the boat. if any question is raised requiring absolute accuracy, the cubic capacity of a boat shall be ascertained by stirling's rule, subject to the foregoing provisions as to depth. (3) _number of persons for boats._--(_a_) subject to the provisions of paragraphs (_b_) (_c_) and (_d_) of this clause the number of persons[5] an open boat of section (a) shall be deemed fit to carry shall be the number of cubic feet ascertained as in rule (2) divided by 10, and the number of persons[6] an open boat of section (b) or section (c), or an open or decked boat of section (d) or section (e) shall be deemed fit to carry shall be the number of cubic feet ascertained as in rule (2) divided by 8. the space in the boat shall be sufficient for the seating of the persons carried in it and for the proper use of the oars. (_b_) an open boat of section (a) or section (b) or section (c) or section (d) or section (e) shall not be deemed to be fit to carry the number of persons ascertained as in paragraph (_a_) of this clause unless the boat is so constructed that it has a mean sheer of at least half an inch for each foot of its length and that the boat's half-girth amidships measured outside the planking from the side of the keel to the top of the gunwale is at least equal to nine-tenths of the sum of the boat's depth inside and half its maximum breadth amidships, and that the mean of the half-girths measured in the same manner at two points, one-quarter of the length of the boat from the stem and sternpost, respectively, is at least equal to eight-tenths of the sum of the depth inside and half the maximum breadth amidships. (_c_)--a decked boat of section (d) or section (e) shall not be deemed to be fit to carry the number of persons ascertained as in paragraph (_a_) of this clause, unless the top of the deck amidships is at a height above the water approved by the board of trade, when the boat is so loaded. (_d_)--if the surveyor is doubtful as to the number of persons any open or decked boat is fit to carry, he may require the boat to be tested afloat with the intended number of persons on board. (_e_)--the rules numbers 1, 2, and 3, as now amended, are not to be retrospective, and are to apply only to boats built after. ship's boats. the salient feature of the reports of the board's officers on this subject is the consensus of opinion that the form of a boat is the chief factor to be considered in determining its value as a life-saving appliance. it has been found that while there are many boats of good form supplied to ships, there is yet a large proportion where the boats are not only not so good, but which can only be regarded as unsafe if they had on board anything approaching the number of persons for which they measure. it is the latter type we are chiefly concerned with; how is it that the form has so deteriorated as to create this concern in our minds? i think the cause is not far to seek; it appears to be the outcome of (1) the shipowner's desire to carry the maximum number of persons in the minimum number of boats; (2) in the efforts of the ship-builder, as a rule, to carry out the specification in which he has contracted to supply the owners with boats at a price, often very low, and naturally he does not sublet his contract with the boatbuilder at a loss; (3) the aim of the competing boatbuilder, which is to build his boats at as little cost price as possible, and yet to provide accommodation for the prescribed number of persons. he is probably limited as to length, and therefore relies on the breadth and depth; in this direction, he is unintentionally assisted by the board's rule for measurement, viz, l × b × d × .6/10 or 8; so long, therefore, as he can obtain his breadth at one point for measurement purposes, it is quite immaterial to him how soon he fines away to the ends, with the result that the stability of the boat becomes almost entirely dependent upon the form of a very limited midship section, or the still smaller proportion of same that would be under water when in the loaded condition. the boatbuilder may be further restricted as to breadth, and, therefore, he again detracts from the form a boat should have by dispensing with sheer and increasing the depth from keel to gunwale amidships. this method of building boats enables him to obtain the capacity required by the owner at the expense of the boat's stability and utility. no doubt when the life-saving appliances rules came into being the divisors 10 and 8 for the different sections were deemed safe on the supposition that the usual full form of boat would not be largely departed from. experience has shown, however, that form is frequently sacrificed for the unworthy objects referred to above, and it follows, therefore, that either the form should be improved or a heavier divisor laid down. it would, i think, be more effective to deal with form and devise a rule by which we can insure that a boat will be reasonably safe with its load, not merely in smooth water, as in our recent test, but in a seaway. it is essential, therefore, to draw the attention of the advisory committee to the value the board attach to form, and particularly to that part of it under water, emphasizing the great necessity there is for an increase to the bearing surface of the under-water portion of boats, and this end can, no doubt, be best attained by the putting into practice of the suggestions made by the principal ship surveyor for amending the rules and which aim at prolonging the form or fullness of dimension of the midship body under water well toward the ends of the boat. it is well known that by extending the body in this way greater buoyancy and stability are secured without materially affecting the speed. it is often supposed that defective stability due to bad form can be rectified by the disposition of the persons or things, but anyone with real experience of boats in a seaway can not fail to realize that this is the wrong principle to work on. granted, therefore, that the question of form must take priority, how can it be best attained? and if we refer to mr. archer's method of measurement, as stated in his amendment to the rules, it will be seen how simple and effective it is. for the purpose of illustration, we might take the model of a ship's boat obtained through the board's surveyors at glasgow, the dimensions of which enlarged to scale represent a boat of l b d/30.0 × 8.5 × 3.5 and is an embodiment of the proportions amidships and at quarter distance from each end proposed by mr. archer. it can not be too strongly urged that for a ship's lifeboat to be fit to carry the number of persons it measures for in any degree of safety, whenever it may be required at sea, the under-water or bearing surface should be carried out to the ends as much as possible and all straight lines avoided. the bows of many of the existing types of boat are examples of the worst possible form for safety, and the counters are as bad, if they can be said to have any. _depth._--it appears from the reports that the most generally approved ratio of depth to the breadth is 4/10. this has been established not only by our long experience, but by the numerous tests recently conducted by the board's surveyors at various ports, and the attention of the advisory committee might be drawn to this fact. it is, of course, necessary also to have a good freeboard, but a well-proportioned boat does not require so much freeboard as the commoner type, as with proper sheer and under-water surface she is easy in a seaway. if the gunwale is too high, there is loss of power over the oars, which is serious when for the safety of the boat she is required to be kept head-on to sea, and with a fresh breeze, even in a good boat, this is not always an easy matter. it is a matter for consideration that at the tests made by our surveyors the conditions were most favorable, being usually in smooth water of a sheltered dock, and, in not a few instances, considerable anxiety was felt for the safety of those on board when crowded in accordance to the existing rules. if it was thus in smooth water, one dare hardly contemplate the results in a seaway. if the shipowner does not see to it that a safe type of boat is provided, then the number of persons to be accommodated in boats which do not come up to the proportions deemed safe by the board of trade should be very considerably curtailed. a. h. y. march 23, 1912. * * * * * construction of ship's boats. it will, i think, be useful to consider the principal factors that govern the dimensions of boats forming part of the life-saving apparatus in merchant ships. the minimum number and capacity of boats are determined by the regulations, and the capacity is determined by the product of the length, breadth, and depth of the boats. as the space on the ship in which to stow the boats is generally limited, it is generally found easier to increase their depth than the length or breadth, and this is further encouraged, i believe, by the cost of boats being quoted at so much per foot in length. the builder or owner determines the dimensions of the boat; the boatbuilder is concerned merely with the construction and, in most cases, usually their form or lines. attention has been called by the mark lane surveyors to the form and proportions of the boats used in the royal navy. the proportion of depth to breadth is greater than is apparent from the particulars given, as all boats larger than a 30-foot gig have 6-1/2-inch washboards above the gunwale, and even the gigs and many of the smaller boats have portable washboards. it must also be remembered that all the navy boats are square-sterned, except the whaleboat, and are designed with easy lines so as to make good sailers; no air cases are fitted, and the seats are kept very low. the boats are not provided simply as life-saving appliances; as a matter of fact, the life-saving equipment of a warship is extremely small. it is true that each type of boat is given a certain "life-saving capacity," which is ascertained by crowding in as many men as practicable with boat in still water and all equipment on board. this number agrees closely with that obtained by the board's rule l × b × d × .6/8. these boats, moreover, have a much smaller freeboard than is considered desirable in the merchant navy; but the occupants are all under discipline and in charge of experienced seamen. in the mercantile marine it may, and often does, happen, that the boats are crowded with panic-stricken men, women, and children, and instances have occurred, i believe, wherein there has not been a single man in the boat who has ever handled an oar before. having these points in view, i do not agree that the navy type of boat is the most suitable for our purpose. the chief desiderata in a ship's boat as a life-saving appliance are, (1) to carry the maximum number of people without overcrowding; and with (2) a reasonable amount of stability and freeboard; (3) and without undue interference with the use of oars. (1) is almost wholly dependent on the length and breadth of the boat; provided (2) is satisfied; depth has very little influence on it. for example, take a boat 30 × 9 × 3.5, 567 cubic feet by our rule, as a section (d) or (e) boat it should carry 567/8 = 72 people; such a boat should allow 30 × 9 × 8/72 = 3 square feet of area per person at the gunwale, which should be ample if all sit in the bottom who can not find seating room on the side benches or thwarts. (2) stability and freeboard are dependent upon the boat's breadth, depth, and form. the element of length does not enter into it, and it would be most unreasonable to limit the ratio of length to breadth, as suggested from liverpool, or to limit the depth to the cube root of the length, as proposed by one of the london surveyors. mr. gemmell gives particulars, m. 26,298, of four boats tested, which proved to have ample accommodation and stability for the complements allowed by the regulations; the ratio of depth to breadth varied from 0.41 to 0.45. capt. o'sullivan also reported five boats which he tested with ratios of d to b, varying from 0.4 to 0.44, all except one being satisfactory, the exception being rather tender and overcrowded, due to poor lines. the freeboards of all these boats when loaded were, i think, sufficient. the depth in no case exceeded 3.6, and only in one case did the ratio exceed 0.44. the surveyors, liverpool, tested a boat 3.75 deep and having a ratio of d/b = 0.41, which proved satisfactory. capt. griffiths tested a boat 4.1 deep, having a ratio d/b = 0.455, which he considered to be unsafe with the full complement on board. the consensus of opinion is that the depth should not exceed 3 feet 5 inches or 3 feet 6 inches, and the ratio of d/b should not exceed 0.44. this, however, is not sufficient to guarantee sufficient seating and stability. capt. clarke tested a boat 24.4 × 6.55 × 2.45, which was very unsafe with the rule complement on board. the ratio d/b is only 0.38 in this case. it will be seen, however, that this craft has exceptionally fine lines and is evidently quite unsuited to carry the rule complement. it is quite evident that the form of the boat must be taken into account. the dimensions of boats vary so greatly that generally the boat builder builds his boats "to the eye," using only a midship mold; it follows that the forms of boats of the same dimensions will vary considerably and with different workmen. something more is required than a limitation in the ratio of depth to breadth. it is desirable that the sheer should be ample, and the form not unduly fined away within the midship half length. from consideration of the particulars and lines of the boats mentioned in the surveyor's reports, i think a simple rule to regulate the form may be devised such as i will indicate later. it is, i think, necessary to limit the depth as a factor for ascertaining the number to be accommodated. the increase of depth beyond a certain point, while unduly increasing the number of people that may be carried, increases proportionately the required air case capacity, to meet which the seats have to be raised with a corresponding increase in the height of the center of gravity and decrease in the stability and difficulty in rowing. a boat 3.6 deep would have the thwarts about 3 feet above the bottom, and any increase in this height makes it very difficult for any ordinary man to row when sitting down. in rough sea the men would have very little control over the oars if standing up. a further objection to the very deep boat is its small stability in the light condition. it is not, i believe, an unusual occurrence for such boats to capsize in rough weather, before the passengers or crew can be got into them, and i have myself seen such a boat capsize in dock with only two men in it; due to lumpy water and a stiff breeze catching it on the beam when coming out of the shelter afforded by the dock wall. i do not think, however, any limit of depth should be imposed, except as a measure of capacity. any rules that may be devised should be such as are of easy and ready application, and which will not bear harshly on the boats that have already been accepted. i therefore suggest that the present rules will sufficiently meet the case, with the following modification. in no case should the depth to be used in general rule (2) exceed 3.6 feet and 45 per cent of the breadth. in all cases where the actual depth is 45 per cent of the breadth or less, the maximum number of persons, as ascertained by rule (3) should not be allowed unless the boat has been found capable of carrying that number by actual test in the water, or unless the boat has at least 1/2 inch of sheer per foot of length, and the half-girth amidships, measured outside the plank, from the side of the keel to the top of the gunwale, is at least 90 per cent of the sum of the depth and the half breadth, and the mean of the half girths as similarly measured at one quarter the boat's length from the stem and stern post are at least 80 per cent of the sum of the midship depth and half breadth. the thwarts and side benches should be kept as low as practicable, and the bottom boards should be so fitted that the height of the thwarts above them will not exceed 2 feet 9 inches. a. j. d. january 27, 1912. (mr. a. j. daniel, acting principal ship surveyor to the board of trade.) * * * * * it should be stated that the new committee on bulkheads mentioned in the paragraphs of this letter which deals with rule 12 has now been formed. subsequently sir walter howell wrote and sent three letters to the advisory committee which were as follows: board of trade, marine department, 7 whitehall gardens, _london, s. w., april 20, 1912_. sir: with reference to previous correspondence between the department and your committee respecting the revision of the statutory rules for life-saving appliances on british ships, and particularly to the letter from this department of april 16, i am directed by the board of trade to state that as an entirely new situation has been created by the recent disaster to the steamship _titanic_ they assume that the committee, in reconsidering the matter in connection with the suggestions already put before them by the board will have full regard to this new situation, and the facts of the disaster so far as ascertained. as you are doubtless aware, suggestions have been made in the house of commons and elsewhere to the effect that, in view of the loss of the _titanic_, action should be taken by the board of trade in regard to certain questions other than those expressly dealt with in the life-saving appliances rules, e.g., in regard to (1) steamship routes in the north atlantic; (2) the speed of steamers where there may be dangers to navigation; and (3) the provision and use of searchlights on large passenger steamers; and the board would be glad to know the committee's views in regard to these, and any other suggestions which may have come to their knowledge, intended to diminish the risk, or to mitigate the effects of accidents to passenger vessels at sea. i am, etc., walter j. howell. the secretary, _merchant shipping advisory committee_. * * * * * board of trade, marine department, _7 whitehall gardens, london, s. w., april 24, 1912_. sir: with reference to previous correspondence between this department and your committee respecting the revision of the statutory rules for life-saving appliances on british ships, and particularly to the letter from this department of april 16, in which you were informed that the question of the proposed amendment of the rules so as to admit of decked lifeboats being stowed one above another or one under an open lifeboat, was under consideration, i am directed by the board of trade to state, for the information of your committee, that the board of trade will be glad if the committee will consider whether any, and if so what, amendments of the rules, and in particular of the rule of april 19, 1910, and the rule of june 14, 1911, are, in their opinion, desirable with the object of supplementing the boats immediately under davits by as much additional boat accommodation as is practicable, having regard to the new situation which has been created by the recent disaster to the steamship _titanic_. a plan illustrating the principle is being prepared so as to be in readiness for your committee by friday. i am, etc., walter j. howell. the secretary, _merchant shipping advisory committee_. * * * * * board of trade, marine department, 7, whitehall gardens, _london, s. w., april 25, 1912_. sir: with reference to previous correspondence respecting the proposed revision of the statutory regulations as to boats and life-saving appliances on ships, i am directed by the board of trade to state, for the information of the merchant shipping advisory committee, that, apart from the questions which have been raised regarding the boat accommodation on vessels over 10,000 tons, it seems desirable to consider whether the provision of boats and other life-saving appliances required by the rules in the case of vessels under 10,000 tons is satisfactory, or whether the rules or the boat scale should be altered in respect of their application to such vessels; and the board would be glad to be favored with the observations of the committee on this point in addition to those that have already been referred to them. i am, etc., walter j. howell. the secretary, _merchant shipping advisory committee_. * * * * * to these letters the advisory committee sent the following answer: * * * * * merchant shipping advisory committee, 7, whitehall gardens, _london, s. w., april 27, 1912_. sir: we are desired by the merchant shipping advisory committee to inform you that your letters of the 16th, 20th, 24th, and 25th instant were brought before the committee at a meeting held yesterday. the committee fully recognize that the proved impossibility of keeping such a vessel as the _titanic_ afloat after a collision with ice until the arrival of outside succor has created an entirely new situation which was neither in the contemplation of the board of trade nor of the committee in the consideration of the extension of the existing boat scale in regard to vessels of 10,000 tons and upward. in advising on such extension in july last, the committee aimed at providing ample boat accommodation on large passenger vessels in accordance with the principles that were adopted by the original life-saving appliances committee, and which principles had apparently been fully justified by many years of experience. it is with satisfaction that the committee note that the board of trade, apart from the new possibilities demonstrated by the loss of the _titanic_, agreed in the essentials with the recommendation of the committee. in face of the new facts, the committee at their meeting yesterday reopened entirely the question of the revision of the boat scale for large passenger vessels with a view of providing the maximum of protection for the passengers and crew in the event of an overwhelming disaster, whilst at the same time maintaining the principles in regard to the stability and sea-going qualities of the ship itself, and to the prompt and efficient handling of the boats carried under the existing scale, which hitherto have proved not only essential to safety, but also adequate for all ordinary emergencies. the questions involved are not free from difficulty, but they will receive the immediate attention of the committee. pending their consideration, the committee note that assurances have been received by the board of trade from representatives of most of the large passenger lines to the effect that every effort will be made to equip their vessels, at the earliest possible moment, with boats and rafts sufficient to accommodate all persons on board. in regard to the recommendation forwarded with the committee's letter of july 4 last, that the board of trade should, having regard to the developments in ship building since the report of the committee of 1891 on spacing and construction of water-tight bulkheads, review the requirements designed to attain the standards at present enforced under rule 12, the advisory committee note that the board of trade have under consideration the appointment of a committee of equal standing to that of the committee of 1891. in view of the great importance of this question the advisory committee desire us respectfully to urge that such a committee be appointed at as early a date as possible. the subject of the general revision of the statutory regulations as to boats and life-saving appliances on all ships, which, apart from the questions regarding the boat accommodation on vessels over 10,000 tons, is for the first time referred to the advisory committee by the letter of the 25th instant, together with the particular questions raised in the letters of the 16th, 20th, and 24th instant, are also receiving the immediate attention of the committee. at yesterday's meeting subcommittees were appointed to give immediate consideration to the subjects requiring detailed examination. these subcommittees will pursue their inquiries concurrently, and we are desired by the advisory committee to inform you that their investigation into the revision of the life-saving appliances rules will be proceeded with as expeditiously as possible. we are, etc., norman hill, _chairman_. r. w. matthew, _secretary_. sir walter j. howell, k. c. b., _assistant secretary marine department, board of trade_. * * * * * this letter was acknowledged by the board of trade on may 10, 1912, as follows: * * * * * board of trade, marine department, 7, whitehall gardens, _london, s. w., may 10, 1912_. sir: i am directed by the board of trade to acknowledge the receipt of, and to thank you for, your letter of april 27, stating that their letters of april 16, 20, 24, and 25 have been considered by the merchant shipping advisory committee. the board observes with satisfaction that, in view of the entirely new situation which has arisen, the advisory committee have decided to reopen the question of the revision of the table in the life-saving appliances rules in so far as it governs the boat accommodation in vessels over 10,000 tons gross. the board are further glad to observe that the question of a general revision of the life-saving appliances rules is also under consideration by the committee, and in this connection they presume that, in considering the question of a general revision of the rules including the table, the committee will consider the principles on which the requirements as to boat accommodation should be based, including, inter alia, whether the table should continue to be based on tonnage. any conclusion reached by the committee on this question would naturally affect the revision of the present table as applying to vessels of more than 10,000 tons, upon which the committee has already been engaged. the board agree with the view expressed by the advisory committee that the appointment of another committee on the spacing and construction of water-tight bulkheads is desirable. steps have already been taken by the president to form such a committee, and he hopes to be able to announce the names within a few days. a further communication on this point will be addressed to the committee in the course of a few days. the board are glad to note that subcommittees have been appointed to deal concurrently with the subjects requiring detailed consideration in connection with the revision of the life-saving appliances rules. the board desire me to add that they assume that the committee, in considering the matters referred to them, will have regard to all important aspects of the question of life-saving appliances, whether expressly dealt with in the statutory rules or not, and in particular to the essential question of the adequacy of the provision for lowering and manning the boats and rafts carried by vessels. i am, etc., walter j. howell. the secretary, _merchant shipping advisory committee, 7, whitehall gardens, s. w._ * * * * * this finishes the history of the action of the board of trade in relation to the provision of boat accommodation on emigrant ships. the outstanding circumstance in it is the omission, during so many years, to revise the rules of 1894 and this, i think, was blameable, notwithstanding the excuse or explanation put forward by sir alfred chalmers. i am, however, doubtful whether even if the rules had been revised the change would have been such as to have required boat accommodation which would have increased the number of lives saved. having regard to the recommendations of the advisory committee, the board of trade would probably not have felt justified in making rules which would have required more boat accommodation than that with which the _titanic_ was actually provided; and it is not to be forgotten that the _titanic_ boat accommodation was utilized to less than two-thirds of its capacity. these considerations, however, afford no excuse for the delay of the board of trade. the gross tonnage of a vessel is not, in my opinion, a satisfactory basis on which to calculate the provision of boat accommodation. hitherto, i believe, it has been accepted as the best basis by all nations. but there seems much more to be said in favor of making the number of lives carried the basis and for providing boat or raft accommodation for all on board. rule 12 of the life-saving appliances rules of 1902, which deals with water-tight compartments and boat accommodation, ought to be abolished. the provision of such compartments is of supreme importance, but it is clear that it should not be sought at the expense of a decrease in boat accommodation. when naval architects have devised practical means for rendering ships unsinkable, the question of boat accommodation may have to be reconsidered, but until that time arrives boat accommodation should, where practicable, be carried for all on board. this suggestion may be thought by some to be extravagant. it has never been enforced in the mercantile marine of great britain, nor as far as i know in that of any foreign nation. but it appears, nevertheless, to be admitted by all that it is possible without undue inconvenience or undue interference with commerce to increase considerably in many cases the accommodation hitherto carried, and it seems, therefore, reasonable that the law should require an increase to be made. as far as foreign-going passenger and emigrant steamships are concerned, i am of opinion that, unless justification be shown for deviating from this course, such ships should carry boats or rafts for all on board. with reference to the second branch of the complaint against the board of trade, namely that their officials had failed to exercise due care in the supervision of the vessel's plans and in the inspection of the work done upon her, the charges broke down. suggestions were made that the board's requirements fell short of those of lloyd's registry; but no evidence was forthcoming to support the suggestions. the investigation of the charges took much time, but it only served to show that the officials had discharged their duties carefully and well. powers of the board of trade as regards the supervision of designs of vessels. the _titanic_ was efficiently designed and constructed to meet the contingencies which she was intended to meet. the bulkheads were of ample strength. they were sufficiently closely spaced and were carried up in the vessel to a height greater than sufficient to meet the requirements of the 1891 bulkheads committee. but i am advised that the ship could have been further subdivided so that she would probably have remained afloat longer than she did. the board of trade have, however, apparently no power to exercise any real supervision in the matter of subdivision. all they have express power to insist upon in this connection with respect to any steam vessel is that there shall be four water-tight bulkheads--a provision quite inadequate for safety in a collision damaging the vessel abaft the collision bulkhead. they can also, if invited by the shipowner (but not otherwise), exercise supervision under rule 12. this supervision, i am told, they have been invited to exercise in only 103 cases over a period of 18 years. in 69 of these cases the board have expressed their satisfaction with the subdivision provided. it seems to me that the board should be empowered to require the production of the designs of all passenger steamers at an early period of their construction and to direct such alterations as may appear to them to be necessary and practicable for the purpose of securing proper water-tight subdivision. vii. finding of the court. it is now convenient to answer the 26 questions submitted by the board of trade. 1. when the _titanic_ left queenstown on or about april 11 last: (_a_) what was the total number of persons employed in any capacity on board her, and what were their respective ratings? (_b_) what was the total number of her passengers, distinguishing sexes and classes, and discriminating between adults and children? answer. (_a_) the total number of persons employed in any capacity on board the _titanic_ was 885. the respective ratings of these persons were as follows: deck department 66 engine department 325 victualing department 494 -- 885 n. b.--the eight bandsmen are not included in this number, as their names appear in the second class passenger list. (_b_) the total number of passengers was 1,316. of these: ------------------+---------+----------+------- | male. | female. | total. ------------------+---------+----------+------- first class | 180 | 145 | 325 second class | 179 | 106 | 285 third class | 510 | 196 | 706 | | +------- | | | 1,316 ------------------+---------+----------+-------of the above, 6 children were in the first class, 24 in the second class and 79 in the third class. total, 109. 2. before leaving queenstown on or about april 11 last did the _titanic_ comply with the requirements of the merchant shipping acts, 1894-1906, and the rules and regulations made thereunder with regard to the safety and otherwise of "passenger steamers" and "emigrant ships?" answer. yes. 3. in the actual design and construction of the _titanic_ what special provisions were made for the safety of the vessel and the lives of those on board in the event of collisions and other casualties? answer. these have been already described. 4. (_a_) was the _titanic_ sufficiently and efficiently officered and manned? (_b_) were the watches of the officers and crew usual and proper? (_c_) was the _titanic_ supplied with proper charts? answer. (_a_) yes. (_b_) yes. (_c_) yes. 5. (_a_) what was the number of the boats of any kind on board the _titanic_? (_b_) were the arrangements for manning and launching the boats on board the _titanic_ in case of emergency proper and sufficient? (_c_) had a boat drill been held on board, and if so, when? (_d_) what was the carrying capacity of the respective boats? answer. (_a_) 2 emergency boats, 14 lifeboats, 4 engelhardt boats. (_b_) no, but see page 38. (_c_) no. (_d_) the carrying capacity of the 2 emergency boats was for 80 persons; 14 lifeboats was for 910 persons; 4 engelhardt boats was for 188 persons; or a total of 1,178 persons. 6. (_a_) what installations for receiving and transmitting messages by wireless telegraphy were on board the _titanic_? (_b_) how many operators were employed on working such installations? (_c_) were the installations in good and effective working order, and were the number of operators sufficient to enable messages to be received and transmitted continuously by day and night? answer. (_a_) a marconi 5-kilowatt motor generator with two complete sets of apparatus supplied from the ship's dynamos, with an independent storage battery and coil for emergency, was fitted in a house on the boat deck. (_b_) two. (_c_) yes. 7. (_a_) at or prior to the sailing of the _titanic_ what, if any, instructions as to navigation were given to the master or known by him to apply to her voyage? (_b_) were such instructions, if any, safe, proper, and adequate, having regard to the time of year and dangers likely to be encountered during the voyage? answer. (_a_) no special instructions were given, but he had general instructions contained in the book of rules and regulations supplied by the company. (see p. 24.) (_b_) yes, but having regard to subsequent events they would have been better if a reference had been made to the course to be adopted in the event of reaching the region of ice. 8. (_a_) what was in fact the track taken by the _titanic_ in crossing the atlantic ocean? (_b_) did she keep to the track usually followed by liners on voyages from the united kingdom to new york in the month of april? (_c_) are such tracks safe tracks at that time of the year? (_d_) had the master any, and if so, what discretion as regards the track to be taken? answer. (_a_) the outward southern track from queenstown to new york, usually followed in april by large steam vessels. (see page 24.) (_b_) yes, with the exception that instead of altering her course on approaching the position 42° n. 47° w., she stood on on her previous course for some 10 miles farther southwest, turning to s. 86° w. true at 5.50 p.m. (_c_) the outward and homeward bound southern tracks were decided on as the outcome of many years' experience of the normal movement of ice. they were reasonably safe tracks for the time of year, provided, of course, that great caution and vigilance when crossing the ice region were observed. (_d_) yes. capt. smith was not fettered by any orders to remain on the track should information as to the position of ice make it, in his opinion, undesirable to adhere to it. the fact, however, of lane routes having been laid down for the common safety of all would necessarily influence him to keep on (or very near) the accepted route, unless circumstances as indicated above should induce him to deviate largely from it. 9. (_a_) after leaving queenstown on or about the 11th april last, did information reach the _titanic_ by wireless messages or otherwise by signals of the existence of ice in certain latitudes? (_b_) if so, what were such messages or signals and when were they received, and in what position or positions was the ice reported to be, and was the ice reported in or near the track actually being followed by the _titanic_? (_c_) was her course altered in consequence of receiving such information, and, if so, in what way? (_d_) what replies to such messages or signals did the _titanic_ send, and at what times? answer. (_a_) yes. (_b_) see particulars of ice messages already set out (pp. 26-28). (_c_) no; her course was altered as hereinbefore described, but not in consequence of the information received as to ice. (_d_) the material answers were-at 12.55 p.m. steamship _titanic_: * * * * * to commander, _baltic_. thanks for your message and good wishes. had fine weather since leaving. smith. * * * * * at 1.26 p.m. steamship _titanic_: * * * * * to captain, _caronia_. thanks for message and information. have had variable weather throughout. smith. * * * * * 10. (_a_) if at the times referred to in the last preceding question or later the _titanic_ was warned of or had reason to suppose she would encounter ice, at what time might she have reasonably expected to encounter it? (_b_) was a good and proper lookout for ice kept on board? (_c_) were any, and, if so, what, directions given to vary the speed--if so, were they carried out? answer. (_a_) at, or even before, 9.30 p.m. ship's time, on the night of the disaster. (_b_) no. the men in the crow's nest were warned at 9.30 p.m. to keep a sharp lookout for ice; the officer of the watch was then aware that he had reached the reported ice region, and so also was the officer who relieved him at 10 p.m. without implying that those actually on duty were not keeping a good lookout, in view of the night being moonless, there being no wind and perhaps very little swell, and especially in view of the high speed at which the vessel was running, it is not considered that the lookout was sufficient. an extra lookout should, under the circumstances, have been placed at the stemhead, and a sharp lookout should have been kept from both sides of the bridge by an officer. (_c_) no directions were given to reduce speed. 11. (_a_) were binoculars provided for and used by the lookout men? (_b_) is the use of them necessary or usual in such circumstances? (_c_) had the _titanic_ the means of throwing searchlights around her? (_d_) if so, did she make use of them to discover ice? (_e_) should searchlights have been provided and used? answer. (_a_) no. (_b_) no. (_c_) no. (_d_) no. (_e_) no; but searchlights may at times be of service. the evidence before the court does not allow of a more precise answer. 12. (_a_) what other precautions were taken by the _titanic_ in anticipation of meeting ice? (_b_) were they such as are usually adopted by vessels being navigated in waters where ice may be expected to be encountered? answer. (_a_) special orders were given to the men in the crow's nest to keep a sharp lookout for ice, particularly small ice and growlers. the fore-scuttle hatch was closed to keep everything dark before the bridge. (_b_) yes; though there is evidence to show that some masters would have placed a lookout at the stemhead of the ship. 13. (_a_) was ice seen and reported by anybody on board the _titanic_ before the casualty occurred? (_b_) if so, what measures were taken by the officer on watch to avoid it? (_c_) were they proper measures and were they promptly taken? answer. (_a_) yes; immediately before the collision. (_b_) the helm was put hard astarboard and the engines were stopped and put full speed astern. (_c_) yes. 14. (_a_) what was the speed of the _titanic_ shortly before and at the moment of the casualty? (_b_) was such speed excessive under the circumstances? answer. (_a_) about 22 knots. (_b_) yes. 15. (_a_) what was the nature of the casualty which happened to the _titanic_ at or about 11.45 p.m. on april 14 last? (_b_) in what latitude and longitude did the casualty occur? answer. (_a_) a collision with an iceberg which pierced the starboard side of the vessel in several places below the water line between the forepeak tank and no. 4 boiler room. (_b_) in latitude 41° 46´ n., longitude 50° 14´ w. 16. (_a_) what steps were taken immediately on the happening of the casualty? (_b_) how long after the casualty was its seriousness realized by those in charge of the vessel (_c_) what steps were then taken? (_d_) what endeavors were made to save the lives of those on board, and to prevent the vessel from sinking? answer. (_a_) the 12 water-tight doors in the engine and boiler rooms were closed from the bridge, some of the boiler fires were drawn, and the bilge pumps abaft no. 6 boiler room were started. (_b_) about 15 to 20 minutes. (_c_) and (_d_) the boats were ordered to be cleared away. the passengers were roused and orders given to get them on deck, and life belts were served out. some of the water-tight doors, other than those in the boiler and engine rooms, were closed. marconigrams were sent out asking for help. distress signals (rockets) were fired, and attempts were made to call up by morse a ship whose lights were seen. eighteen of the boats were swung out and lowered, and the remaining two floated off the ship and were subsequently utilized as rafts. 17. was proper discipline maintained on board after the casualty occurred? answer. yes. 18. (_a_) what messages for assistance were sent by the _titanic_ after the casualty, and at what times respectively? (_b_) what messages were received by her in response, and at what times respectively? (_c_) by what vessels were the messages that were sent by the _titanic_ received, and from what vessels did she receive answers? (_d_) what vessels other than the _titanic_ sent or received messages at or shortly after the casualty in connection with such casualty? (_e_) what were the vessels that sent or received such messages? (_f_) were any vessels prevented from going to the assistance of the _titanic_ or her boats owing to messages received from the _titanic_ or owing to any erroneous messages being sent or received? (_g_) in regard to such erroneous messages, from what vessels were they sent and by what vessels were they received, and at what times respectively? (_a_) (_b_) (_c_) (_d_) and (_e_) are answered together. (_f_) several vessels did not go, owing to their distance. (_g_) there were no erroneous messages. -----------+---------------+---------------------------------------------- new york | titanic time | time. |(approximated).| communications. -----------+---------------+---------------------------------------------- 10.25 p. m.| 12.15 a. m. | la provence receives titanic distress signals. | | do | do | mount temple heard titanic sending cqd. | | says require assistance. gives | | position. can not hear me. advise | | my captain his position 41.46 n., | | 50.24 w. | | do | do | cape race hears titanic giving position | | on cqd. 41.44 n., 50.24 w. | | 10.28 p. m.| 12.18 a. m. | ypiranga hears cqd. from titanic. titanic | | gives cqd. here. position 41.44 n., | | 50.24 w. require assistance (calls | | about 10 times). | | 10.35 p. m.| 12.25 a. m. | cqd. call received from titanic by carpathia. | | titanic said, "come at once. we have | | struck a berg. it's a cqd. om. position | | 41.46 n., 50.14 w." | | do | do | cape race hears m. g. y. (titanic) give | | corrected position 41.46 n., 50.14 w. | | calling him; no answer. | | 10.36 p. m.| 12.25 a. m. | m. g. y. (titanic) says cqd. here corrected | | position 41.46 n., 50.14 w. | | require immediate assistance. we have | | collision with iceberg. sinking. | | can nothing hear for noise of steam. | | sent about 15 to 20 times to ypiranga. | | 10.37 p. m.| 12.27 a. m. | titanic sends following: "i require | | assistance immediately. struck by iceberg | | in 41.46 n., 50.14 w." | | 10.40 p. m.| 12.30 a. m. | titanic gives his position to frankfurt, | | and says, "tell your captain to come | | to our help. we are on the ice." | | do | do | caronia sent cq message to m. b. c. (baltic) | | and cqd: m. g. y. (titanic) struck | | iceberg, require immediate assistance. | | do | | mount temple hears m. g. y. (titanic) still | | calling cqd. our captain reverses | | ship. we are about 50 miles off. | | 10.46 p. m.| 12.36 a. m. | d. k. f. (prinz friedrich wilhelm) calls | | m. g. y. (titanic) and gives position | | at 12 a. m. 39.47 n., 50.10 w. m. g. y. | | (titanic) says, "are you coming to our?" | | d. f. t. (frankfurt) says, "what is the | | matter with u?" m. g. y. (titanic) "we have | | collision with iceberg. sinking. please | | tell captain to come." d. f. t. | | (frankfurt) says, "o. k. will tell." | | 10.48 p. m.| 12.38 a. m. | mount temple hears frankfurt give m. g. y. | | (titanic) his position, 39.47 n., 52.10 w. 10.55 p. m.| 12.45 a. m. | titanic calls olympic sos. | | 11 p. m. | 12.50 a. m. | titanic calls cqd. and says, "i | | require immediate assistance. position | | 41.46 n., 50.14 w." received by celtic. 11.03 p. m.| 12.53 a. m. | caronia to m. b. c. (baltic) and sos., | | m. g. y.(titanic) cqd. in 41.46 n., | | 50.14 w. wants immediate assistance." | | 11.10 p. m.| 1 a. m. | m. g. y. gives distress signal. d. d. c. | | replies. m. g. y.'s position 41.46 n., | | 50.14 w. assistance from d. d. c. not | | necessary, as m. k. c. shortly | | afterwards answers distress call. | | do. | do. | titanic replies to olympic, and gives | | his position as 41.46 n., 50.14 w., and | | says, "we have struck an iceberg." | | 11.12 p. m.| 1.02 a. m. | titanic calls asian and said, "want | | immediate assistance." asian answered | | at once and received titanic's position | | as 41.46 n., 50.14 w., which he immediately | | takes to the bridge. captain instructs | | operator to have titanic's position repeated. | | do. | do. | virginian calls titanic, but gets no response. | | cape race tells virginian to report to his | | captain the titanic has struck iceberg | | and requires immediate assistance. | | 11.20 p. m.| 1.10 a. m. | titanic to m. k. c. (olympic), "we are in | | collision with berg. sinking head | | down; 41.46 n., 50.14 w. come soon | | as possible." | | do. | do. | titanic to m. k. c. (olympic), captain says, | | "get your boats ready. what is | | your position?" | | 11.25 p. m.| 1.15 a. m. | baltic to caronia, "please tell titanic | | we are making toward her." | | 11.30 p. m.| 1.20 a. m. | virginian hears m. c. e. (cape race) inform | | m. g. y. (titanic) "that we are going to | | his assistance. our position 170 miles | | north of titanic." | | 11.35 p. m.| 1.25 a. m. | caronia tells titanic, "baltic coming | | to your assistance." | | do. | do. | olympic sends position to titanic 4.24 | | a. m. gmt. 40.52 n., 61.18 w. | | "are you steering southerly to meet us?" | | titanic replies, "we are putting | | the women off in the boats." | | do. | do. | titanic and olympic work together. | | 11.37 p. m.| 1.27 a. m. | m. g. y. (titanic) says, "we are putting | | the women off in the boats." | | 11.40 p. m.| 1.30 a. m. | titanic tells olympic, "we are putting | | passengers off in small boats." | | 11.45 p. m.| 1.35 a. m. | olympic asks titanic what weather he had. | | titanic replies, "clear and calm." | | do. | do. | baltic hears titanic say "engine room | | getting flooded." | | do. | do. | mount temple hears dft. (frankfurt) ask | | "are there any boats around | | you already." no reply. | | 11.47 p. m.| 1.37 a. m. | baltic tells titanic, "we are rushing | | to you." | | 11.50 p. m.| 1.40 a. m. | olympic to titanic, "am lighting up | | all possible boilers as fast as can." | | do. | do. | cape race says to virginian: "please | | tell your captain this: 'the olympic | | is making all speed for titanic, but | | his (olympic's) position is 40.32 n., | | 61.18 w. you are much nearer to titanic. | | the titanic is already putting women off | | in the boats, and he says the weather | | there is calm and clear.' the olympic is | | the only ship we have heard say, 'going to | | the assistance of the titanic. the others | | must be a long way from the titanic.'" | | 11.55 p. m.| 1.45 a. m. | last signals heard from titanic by | | carpathia, "engine-room full up to | | boilers." | | do. | do. | mount temple hears dft. (frankfurt) | | calling mgy. (titanic). no reply. | | 11.57 p. m.| 1.47 a. m. | caronia hears mgy. (titanic), | | though signals unreadable still. | | 11.58 p. m.| 1.48 a. m. | asian heard titanic call sos. asian | | answers titanic but receives no | | answer. | | midnight. | 1.50 a. m. | caronia hears frankfurt working to | | titanic. frankfurt according to position | | 172 miles from mgy. (titanic) at time | | first sos. sent out. | | 12.05 a. m.| 1.55 a. m. | cape race says to virginian "we have not | | heard titanic for about half | | an hour. his power may be gone." | | 12.10 a. m.| 2 a. m. | virginian hears titanic calling very | | faintly, his power being very greatly | | reduced. | | 12.20 a. m.| 2.10 a. m. | virginian hears 2 v's signaled faintly | | in spark similar to titanic's, probably | | adjusting spark. | | 12.27 a. m.| 2.17 a. m. | virginian hears titanic call cq, but unable | | to read him. titanic's signals end very | | abruptly, as power suddenly switched off. | | his spark rather blurred or ragged. called | | mgy. (titanic) and suggested he should try | | emergency set, but heard no response. | | 12.30 a. m.| 2.20 a. m. | olympic, his sigs. strong, asked him if he | | had heard anything about mgy. (titanic). he | | says, "no. keeping strict watch, but hear | | nothing more from mgy. (titanic)." no reply | | from him. | | 12.52 a. m.| | this was the official time the titanic | | foundered 41.46 n., 50.14 w., as given | | by the carpathia in message to the olympic; | | about 2.20 a. m. | | 1.15 a. m.| | virginian exchanges signals baltic. he | | tries send us msg. for mgy. (titanic), | | but his signals died utterly away. | | 1.25 a. m.| | mount temple hears mpa. (carpathia) send, | | "if you are there we are firing rockets." | | 1.35 a. m.| | baltic sent 1 msg, to virginian for titanic. | | 1.40 a. m.| | mpa. (carpathia) calling mgy. (titanic). | | 1.58 a. m.| | sba. (birma) thinks he hears titanic so | | sends, "steaming full speed for you. shall | | arrive you 6 in morning. hope you are | | safe. we are only 50 miles now." | | 2 a. m. | | mpa. (carpathia) calling mgy. (titanic). | | do. | | have not heard titanic since 11.50 p. m. | | received from ypiranga. | | 2.28 a. m.| | la provence to celtic, "nobody has heard the | | titanic for about 2 hours." | | 3.24 a. m.| | sba. (birma) says we are 30 miles s. w. off | | titanic. | | 3.36 a. m.| | celtic sends message to caronia for the | | titanic. caronia after trying for two | | hours to get through to the titanic tells | | the celtic impossible to clear his message | | to titanic. celtic then cancels message. 3.45 a. m. | | californian exchanges signals with mlq. | | (mount temple). he gave position | | of titanic. | | 4.10 a. m. | | californian receives msg. from mgn. | | (virginian). | | 5.5 a. m. | | baltic signals mpa. (carpathia). | | 5.40 a. m. | | parisian hears weak signals from mpa. | | (carpathia) or some station saying | | titanic struck iceberg. carpathia | | has passengers from lifeboats. | | do. | | olympic tr asian, with german oil tank | | in tow for halifax asked what | | news of mgy. (titanic). sends | | service later saying heard mgy. (titanic) | | _v._ faint wkg. c. race up to 10 p. m., | | local time. finished calling sos. | | midnight. | | 6.5 a. m. | | parisian exchanges trs virginian o. k. nil. | | informed capt. haines what i heard passing | | between ships regarding titanic, and he | | decided not to return as m. p. a. | | (carpathia) was there, and californian | | was 50 miles astern of us, but requested | | me to stand by in case required. | | 6.45 a. m. | | mount temple hears m. p. a. (carpathia) | | report rescued 20 boat loads. | | 7.7 a. m. | | baltic sends following to carpathia: "can | | i be of any assistance to you as | | regards taking some of the passengers | | from you? will be in position about 4.30. | | let me know if you alter your position." | | 7.10 a. m. | | baltic in communication with m. p. a. | | (carpathia). exchanged traffic _re_ | | passengers, and get instructions to | | proceed to liverpool. | | 7.15 a. m. | | baltic turns round for liverpool, having | | steamed 134 miles w. toward titanic. | | 7.40 a. m. | | mount temple hears m. p. a. (carpathia) | | call cq. and say, "no need to std. bi | | him. advise my captain, who has been | | cruising round the icefield | | with no result. ship reversed." | | 7.45 a. m. | | olympic sent m. s. g. to owners, new | | york via sable island, saying | | "have not communicated with titanic | | since midnight." | | 7.55 a. m. | | carpathia replies to baltic, "am | | proceeding to halifax or new york | | full speed. you had better proceed to | | liverpool. have about 800 passengers | | on board." | | 8 a. m. | | carpathia to virginian: "we are leaving | | here with all on board about 800 | | passengers. please return to your | | northern course." -----------+---------------+-------------------------------------------19. (_a_) was the apparatus for lowering the boats on the _titanic_ at the time of the casualty in good working order? (_b_) were the boats swung out, filled, lowered, or otherwise put into the water and got away under proper superintendence? (_c_) were the boats sent away in seaworthy condition and properly manned, equipped, and provisioned? (_d_) did the boats, whether those under davits or otherwise, prove to be efficient and serviceable for the purpose of saving life? answer. (_a_) yes. (_b_) yes. (_c_) the 14 lifeboats, 2 emergency boats, and c and d collapsible boats were sent away in a seaworthy condition, but some of them were possibly undermanned. the evidence on this point was unsatisfactory. the total number of crew taken on board the _carpathia_ exceeded the number which would be required for manning the boats. the collapsible boats a and b appear to have floated off the ship at the time she foundered. the necessary equipment and provisions for the boats were carried in the ship, but some of the boats, nevertheless, left without having their full equipment in them. (_d_) yes. 20. (_a_) what was the number of (_a_) passengers, (_b_) crew taken away in each boat on leaving the vessel? (_b_) how was this number made up, having regard to (1) sex, (2) class, and (3) rating? (_c_) how many were children and how many adults? (_d_) did each boat carry its full load and, if not, why not? answer. (_a_) (_b_) (_c_) it is impossible exactly to say how many persons were carried in each boat or what was their sex, class, and rating, as the totals given in evidence do not correspond with the numbers taken on board the _carpathia_. the boats eventually contained in all 712 persons, made up as shown in the answer to question 21. (_d_) no. at least 8 boats did not carry their full loads for the following reasons: (1) many people did not realize the danger or care to leave the ship at first. (2) some boats were ordered to be lowered with an idea of their coming around to the gangway doors to complete loading. (3) the officers were not certain of the strength and capacity of the boats in all cases (and see p. 39). 21. (_a_) how many persons on board the _titanic_ at the time of the casualty were ultimately rescued and by what means? (_b_) how many lost their lives prior to the arrival of the steamship _carpathia_ in new york? (_c_) what was the number of passengers, distinguishing between men and women and adults and children of the first, second, and third classes, respectively, who were saved? (_d_) what was the number of the crew, discriminating their ratings and sex, that were saved? (_e_) what is the proportion which each of these numbers bears to the corresponding total number on board immediately before the casualty? (_f_) what reason is there for the disproportion, if any? answer. (_a_) seven hundred and twelve, rescued by _carpathia_ from the boats. (_b_) one. (_c_) (_d_) and (_e_) are answered together. the following is a list of the saved: first class: adult males 57 out of 175, or 32.57 per cent. adult females 140 out of 144, or 97.22 per cent. male children (all saved) 5 female children (all saved) 1 --- 203 out of 325, or 62.46 per cent. ==== second class: adult males 14 out of 168, or 8.33 per cent. adult females 80 out of 93, or 86.02 per cent. male children (all saved) 11 female children (all saved) 13 -- 118 out of 285, or 41.40 per cent. ==== third class: adult males 75 out of 462, or 16.23 per cent. adult females 76 out of 165, or 46.06 per cent. male children 13 out of 48, or 27.08 per cent. female children 14 out of 31, or 45.16 per cent. -- 178 out of 706, or 25.21 per cent. ==== total passengers 499 out of 1,316, or 37.94 per cent. ==== crew saved: deck department 43 out of 66, or 65.15 per cent. engine-room department 72 out of 325, or 22.15 per cent. victualing department 97 out of 494, or 19.63 per cent. including women 20 out of 23, or 86.95 per cent. -- 212 out of 885, or 23.95 per cent. ==== total on board saved 711 out of 2,201, or 32.30 per cent. (_f_) the disproportion between the numbers of the passengers saved in the first, second, and third classes is due to various causes, among which the difference in the position of their quarters and the fact that many of the third-class passengers were foreigners, are perhaps the most important. of the irish emigrants in the third class a large proportion was saved. the disproportion was certainly not due to any discrimination by the officers or crew in assisting the passengers to the boats. the disproportion between the numbers of the passengers and crew saved is due to the fact that the crew, for the most part, all attended to their duties to the last, and until all the boats were gone. 22. what happened to the vessel from the happening of the casualty until she foundered? answer. a detailed description has already been given (see pp. 32-34). 23. where and at what time did the _titanic_ founder? answer. two twenty a. m. (ship's time) april 15. latitude 41° 46´ n., longitude 50° 14´ w. 24. (_a_) what was the cause of the loss of the _titanic_ and of the loss of life which thereby ensued or occurred? (_b_) what vessels had the opportunity of rendering assistance to the _titanic_ and, if any, how was it that assistance did not reach the _titanic_ before the steamship _carpathia_ arrived? (_c_) was the construction of the vessel and its arrangements such as to make it difficult for any class of passenger or any portion of the crew to take full advantage of any of the existing provisions for safety? answer. (_a_) collision with an iceberg and the subsequent foundering of the ship. (_b_) the _californian_. she could have reached the _titanic_ if she had made the attempt when she saw the first rocket. she made no attempt. (_c_) no. 25. when the _titanic_ left queenstown on or about april 11 last was she properly constructed and adequately equipped as a passenger steamer and emigrant ship for the atlantic service? answer. yes. 26. the court is invited to report upon the rules and regulations made under the merchant shipping acts, 1894-1906, and the administration of those acts and of such rules and regulations, so far as the consideration thereof is material to this casualty, and to make any recommendations or suggestions that it may think fit, having regard to the circumstances of the casualty, with a view to promoting the safety of vessels and persons at sea. answer. an account of the board of trade's administration has already been given and certain recommendations are subsequently made. viii. recommendations. the following recommendations are made. they refer to foreign-going passenger and emigrant steamships: water-tight subdivision. 1. that the newly appointed bulkhead committee should inquire and report, among other matters, on the desirability and practicability of providing ships with (_a_) a double skin carried up above the water line, or, as an alternative, with (_b_) a longitudinal, vertical, water-tight bulkhead on each side of the ship, extending as far forward and aft as convenient, or (_c_) with a combination of (_a_) and (_b_). any one of the three (_a_), (_b_), and (_c_) to be in addition to water-tight transverse bulkheads. 2. that the committee should also inquire and report as to the desirability and practicability of fitting ships with (_a_) a deck or decks at a convenient distance or distances above the water line which shall be water-tight throughout a part or the whole of the ship's length; and should in this connection report upon (_b_) the means by which the necessary openings in such deck or decks should be made water-tight, whether by water-tight doors or water-tight trunks or by any other and what means. 3. that the committee should consider and report generally on the practicability of increasing the protection given by subdivision, the object being to secure that the ship shall remain afloat with the greatest practicable proportion of her length in free communication with the sea. 4. that when the committee has reported upon the matters before mentioned, the board of trade should take the report into their consideration and to the extent to which they approve of it should seek statutory powers to enforce it in all newly built ships, but with a discretion to relax the requirements in special cases where it may seem right to them to do so. 5. that the board of trade should be empowered by the legislature to require the production of the designs and specifications of all ships in their early stages of construction and to direct such amendments of the same as may be thought necessary and practicable for the safety of life at sea in ships. (this should apply to all passenger-carrying ships.) lifeboats and rafts. 6. that the provision of lifeboat and raft accommodation on board such ships should be based on the number of persons intended to be carried in the ship and not upon tonnage. 7. that the question of such accommodation should be treated independently of the question of the subdivision of the ship into water-tight compartments. (this involves the abolition of rule 12 of the life saving appliances rules of 1902.) 8. that the accommodation should be sufficient for all persons on board with, however, the qualification that in special cases where, in the opinion of the board of trade, such provision is impracticable, the requirements may be modified as the board may think right. (in order to give effect to this recommendation changes may be necessary in the sizes and types of boats to be carried and in the method of stowing and floating them. it may also be necessary to set apart one or more of the boat decks exclusively for carrying boats and drilling the crew, and to consider the distribution of decks in relation to the passengers' quarters. these, however, are matters of detail to be settled with reference to the particular circumstance affecting the ship.) 9. that all boats should be fitted with a protective continuous fender, to lessen the risk of damage when being lowered in a seaway. 10. that the board of trade should be empowered to direct that one or more of the boats be fitted with some form of mechanical propulsion. 11. that there should be a board of trade regulation requiring all boat equipment (under secs. 5 and 6, p. 15, of the rules, dated february, 1902, made by the board of trade under sec. 427, merchant shipping act, 1894) to be in the boats as soon as the ship leaves harbor. the sections quoted above should be amended so as to provide also that all boats and rafts should carry lamps and pyrotechnic lights for purposes of signaling. all boats should be provided with compasses and provisions, and should be very distinctly marked in such a way as to indicate plainly the number of adult persons each boat can carry when being lowered. 12. that the board of trade inspection of boats and life-saving appliances should be of a more searching character than hitherto. manning the boats and boat drills. 13. that in cases where the deck hands are not sufficient to man the boats enough other members of the crew should be men trained in boat work to make up the deficiency. these men should be required to pass a test in boat work. 14. that in view of the necessity of having on board men trained in boat work, steps should be taken to encourage the training of boys for the merchant service. 15. that the operation of section 115 and section 134 (_a_) of the merchant shipping act, 1894, should be examined, with a view to amending the same so as to secure greater continuity of service than hitherto. 16. that the men who are to man the boats should have more frequent drills than hitherto. that in all ships a boat drill, a fire drill, and a water-tight door drill should be held as soon as possible after leaving the original port of departure and at convenient intervals of not less than once a week during the voyage. such drills to be recorded in the official log. 17. that the board of trade should be satisfied in each case before the ship leaves port that a scheme has been devised and communicated to each officer of the ship for securing an efficient working of the boats. general. 18. that every man taking a lookout in such ships should undergo a sight test at reasonable intervals. 19. that in all such ships a police system should be organized so as to secure obedience to orders, and proper control and guidance of all on board in times of emergency. 20. that in all such ships there should be an installation of wireless telegraphy, and that such installation should be worked with a sufficient number of trained operators to secure a continuous service by night and day. in this connection regard should be had to the resolutions of the international conference on wireless telegraphy recently held under the presidency of sir h. babington smith. that where practicable a silent chamber for "receiving" messages should form part of the installation. 21. that instruction should be given in all steamship companies' regulations that when ice is reported in or near the track the ship should proceed in the dark hours at a moderate speed or alter her course so as to go well clear of the danger zone. 22. that the attention of masters of vessels should be drawn by the board of trade to the effect that under the maritime conventions act, 1911, it is a misdemeanor not to go to the relief of a vessel in distress when possible to do so. 23. that the same protection as to the safety of life in the event of casualty which is afforded to emigrant ships by means of supervision and inspection should be extended to all foreign-going passenger ships. 24. that (unless already done) steps should be taken to call an international conference to consider and as far as possible to agree upon a common line of conduct in respect of (_a_) the subdivision of ships; (_b_) the provision and working of life-saving appliances; (_c_) the installation of wireless telegraphy and the method of working the same; (_d_) the reduction of speed or the alteration of course in the vicinity of ice; and (_e_) the use of searchlights. mersey, _wreck commissioner_. we concur. arthur gough-calthorpe, a. w. clarke, f. c. a. lyon, j. h. biles, edward c. chaston, _assessors_. july 30, 1912. footnotes: [1] there was another water-tight door at the after end of the water-tight passage through the bunker immediately aft of d bulkhead. this door and the one on the d bulkhead formed a double protection to the forward boiler room. [2] the water-tight doors for these bulkheads were not on them, but were at the end of a water-tight passage (about 9 feet long), leading from the bulkhead through the bunker into the compartment. [3] floated off when the ship sank and was utilized as a raft. [4] it may be mentioned that mr. archer stated in the witness box that since the disaster to the titanic he had modified his views and thought that rule 12 should be discontinued. [5] see rule of june 14, 1911. [6] see rule of june 14, 1911. generously made available by the internet archive/american libraries.) the seaman's friend; containing a treatise on practical seamanship, with plates, a dictionary of sea terms; customs and usages of the merchant service; laws relating to the practical duties of master and mariners. by r. h. dana, jr., author of "two years before the mast." fifth edition. boston: published by thomas groom. 1847. entered, according to act of congress, in the year 1841, by r. h. dana, jr., in the clerk's office of the district court of massachusetts. stereotyped by geo. a. & j. curtis, new-england type and stereotype foundry. transcriber's note: minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. irregularities and inconsistencies in the text have been retained as printed. the cover of this book was created by the transcriber and is hereby placed in the public domain. to all sea-faring persons, and especially to those commencing the sea life;--to owners and insurers of vessels;--to judges and practitioners in maritime law;--and to all persons interested in acquainting themselves with the laws, customs, and duties of seamen;--this work is respectfully dedicated by the author. contents. part i. a plain treatise on practical seamanship. chap. i.--general rules and observations, pages 13--18. construction of vessels, 13. tonnage and carriage of merchant vessels, 14. proportions of spars, 14. placing the masts, 16. size of anchors and cables, 16. lead-lines, 17. log-line, 17. ballast and lading, 18. chap. ii.--cutting and fitting standing rigging, 19--25. cutting lower rigging, 19. fitting lower rigging, 20. cutting and fitting topmast rigging, 21. jib, topgallant and royal rigging, 21. ratling, 23. standing rigging of the yards, 23. breast-backstays, 25. chap. iii.--fitting and reeving running rigging, 26--29. to reeve a brace, 26. fore, main, and cross-jack braces, 26. fore and main topsail braces, 26. mizzen topsail braces, 27. fore, main, and mizzen topgallant and royal braces, 27. halyards, 27. spanker brails, 28. tacks, sheets, and clewlines, 28. reef-tackles, clew-garnets, buntlines, leechlines, bowlines, and slablines, 29. chap. iv.--to rig masts and yards, 30--36. taking in lower masts and bowsprit, 30. to rig a bowsprit, 31. to get the tops over the mast-heads, 31. to send up a topmast, 31. to get on a topmast cap, 32. to rig out a jib-boom, 32. to cross a lower yard, 33. to cross a topsail yard, 33. to send up a topgallant mast, 34. long, short, and stump topgallant masts, 34. to rig out a flying jib-boom, 34. to cross a topgallant yard, 35. to cross a royal yard, 35. skysail yards, 35. chap. v.--to send down masts and yards, 36--38. to send down a royal yard, 36. to send down a topgallant yard, 37. to send down a topgallant mast, 37. to house a topgallant mast, 37. to send down a topmast, 37. to rig in a jib-boom, 38. chap. vi.--bending and unbending sails, 38--42. to bend a course, 38. to bend a topsail by the halyards, 39;--by the buntlines, 40. to bend topgallant sails and royals, 40. to bend a jib, 40. to bend a spanker, 41. to bend a spencer, 41. to unbend a course, 41. to unbend a topsail, 41. to unbend a topgallant sail or royal, 41. to unbend a jib, 41. to send down a topsail or course in a gale of wind, 42. to bend a topsail in a gale of wind, 42. to bend one topsail or course and send down the other at the same time, 42. chap. vii.--work upon rigging. rope, knots, splices, bends, hitches, 43--53. yarns, strands, 43. kinds of rope--cable-laid, hawser-laid, 43. spunyarn, 44. worming, parcelling, and service, 44. short splice, 44. long splice, 45. eye splice, 45. flemish eye, 45. artificial eye, 46. cut splice, 46. grommet, 46. single and double walls, 46. matthew walker, 47. single and double diamonds, 47. spritsail sheet knot, 47. stopper knot, 47. shroud and french shroud knots, 48. buoy-rope knot, 48. turk's head, 48. two half-hitches, clove hitch, overhand knot, and figure-of-eight, 48. standing and running bowlines, and bowline upon a bight, 49. square knot, 49. timber hitch, rolling hitch, and blackwall hitch, 49. cat's paw, 50. sheet bend, fisherman's bend, carrick bend, and bowline bend, 50. sheep-shank, 50. selvagee, 50. marlinspike hitch, 50. to pass a round seizing, 51. throat seizing, 51. stopping and nippering, 51. pointing, 51. snaking and grafting, 52. foxes, spanish foxes, sennit, french sennit, gaskets, 52. to bend a buoy-rope, 52. to pass a shear-lashing, 52. chap. viii.--blocks and purchases, 53--55. parts of a block, made and morticed blocks, 53. bull's-eye, dead-eye, sister-block, 53. snatch-block, tail-blocks, 54. tackles--whip, gun-tackle, luff-tackle, luff-upon-luff, runner-tackle, watch-tackle, tail-tackle, and burtons, 54. chap. ix.--making and taking in sail, 55--67. to loose a sail, 55. to set a course, 55. to set a topsail, 56. to set a topgallant sail or royal, 56. to set a skysail, 56. to set a jib, flying jib, or fore topmast staysail, 56. to set a spanker, 57. to set a spencer, 57. to take in a course, 57. to take in a topsail, 57. to take in a topgallant sail or royal, 58. to take in a skysail, 58. to take in a jib, 58. to take in a spanker, 58. to furl a royal, 59. to furl a topgallant sail, 60. to furl a topsail or course, 60. to furl a jib, 60. to stow a jib in cloth, 61. to reef a topsail, 61. to reef a course, 62. to turn out reefs, 63. to set a topgallant studdingsail, 63. to take in a topgallant studdingsail, 64. to set a topmast studdingsail, 65. to take in a topmast studdingsail, 66. to set a lower studdingsail, 66. to take in a lower studdingsail, 67. chap. x.--general principles of working a ship, 68--71. action of the water upon the rudder; headway, sternway, 68. action of the wind upon the sails; head sails, after sails, 69. centre of gravity or rotation, 70. turning a ship to or from the wind, 70. chap. xi.--tacking, wearing, boxing, &c., 71--77. to tack a ship, 71. to tack without fore-reaching, 73. tacking against a heavy head sea, 73. tacking by hauling off all, 73. to trim the yards when close-hauled, 73. missing stays, 74. wearing, 74. to wear under courses, under a mainsail, under bare poles, 75. box-hauling, 75. short-round, 76. club-hauling, 76. drifting in a tide way, 76. backing and filling in a tide-way, 77. clubbing in a tide-way, 77. chap. xii.--gales of wind, lying-to, getting aback, by the lee, &c., 78--81. lying-to, 78. scudding, 79. to heave-to after scudding, 79. taken aback, 79. chappelling, 80. broaching-to, 80. brought by the lee, 80. chap. xiii.--accidents, 81--84. on beam-ends, 81. losing a rudder, 82. a squall, 83. a man overboard, 83. collision, 84. chap. xiv.--heaving-to by counter-bracing, speaking, sounding, heaving the log, 84--87. counter-bracing, 84. speaking, 85. sounding, 85. heaving the log, 86. chap. xv.--coming to anchor, 87--90. getting ready for port, 87. mooring, 88. a flying moor, 89. clearing hawse, 89. to anchor with a slip-rope, 89. to slip a cable, 90. coming-to at a slipped cable, 90. chap. xvi.--getting under way, 91--95. unmoor, 91. to get under way from a single anchor, 91. to cat and fish an anchor, 92. to get under way with the wind blowing directly out and riding head to it, 92. to get under way, riding head to the wind, with a rock or shoal close astern, 93. to get under way riding head to wind and tide, and to stand out close-hauled, 93. to get under way wind-rode, with a weather tide, 94. to get under way tide-rode, casting to windward, 94. to get under way tide-rode, wearing round, 94. a dictionary of sea terms, 96--130. part ii. customs and usages of the merchant service. chap. i.--the master, 131--138. beginning of the voyage, 131. shipping the crew, 132. outfit, provisions, 132. watches, 133. navigation, 134. log-book, observations, 134. working ship, 135. day's work, 136. discipline, 137. chap. ii.--the chief mate, 138--146. care of rigging and ship's furniture, 138. day's work, 139. working ship, 139. getting under way, 139. coming to anchor, 140. reefing and furling, 140. duties in port, account of cargo, stowage, 141. station, watch, and all-hands duties, 142. log-book, navigation, 145. chap. iii.--second and third mates, 146--153. second mate.--navigation, 146. station; watch duties, 147. day's work, 147, 149. working ship, 148, 150. reefing, furling, and duties aloft, 148. care of ship's furniture, 151. stores, 151. duties in port, 152. third mate, 152, 153. chap. iv.--carpenter, cook, steward, &c., 153--158. carpenter.--working ship, 153. seaman's work, helm, duty aloft, station, 154. work at his trade, 154. berth and mess, 154. standing watch, 154. sailmaker 155. steward.--duty in passenger-ships, 156. in other vessels, 156. relation to master and mate; duty aloft and about decks; working ship, 156. cook.--berth, watch and all-hands duty; care of galley; duty aloft, 157. idlers, 157. chap v.--able seamen, 158--163. grades, 158. rating, 158. requisites of an able seaman, 159. hand, reef, and steer, 159. work upon rigging, 160. sailmaking, 160. day's work, 160. working ship; reefing; furling, 161. watch duty, 162. coasters and small vessels, 162. chap. vi.--ordinary seamen, 163--165. requisites, 163. hand, reef, and steer; loose, furl, and set sails; reeve rigging, 163. work upon rigging, 164. watch duty, 164. chap. vii.--boys, 165--167. requisites, wages, 165. day's work; working ship; duties aloft and about decks, 166. chap. viii.--miscellaneous, 167--174. watches, 167. calling the watch, 168. bells, 169. helm, 170. answering, 171, (at helm, 170.) discipline, 172. stations, 173. food, sleep, &c., 173. part iii. laws relating to the practical duties of master and mariners. chap. i.--the vessel, pages 175--179. title, 175. registry, enrolment and license, 175. certificate of registry or enrolment, 177. passport, 177. sea letter, list of crew, bill of health, clearance, manifest, invoice, bill of lading, charter-party, log-book, list of passengers and crew, list of sea-stores, 178. medicine-chest, 178. national character of crew, 178. provisions, 178. passengers, 179. chap. ii.--master's relation to vessel and cargo, 179--187. revenue duties and obligations, 179. list of crew, 179. certified copy, 180. certified copy of shipping articles, 180. sea-letter, passport, list of passengers, manifest, sea-stores, 180, 181. unloading, 180, 181. post-office, 181. forfeitures, 180, 181, 182. report, 182. coasting license, 182. power to sell and pledge, 182. keeping and delivering cargo, 185. deviation, 185. collision, 186. pilot, 187. wages and advances, 187. chap. iii.--master's relation to passengers and officers, 187, 188. treatment of passengers, 187. removal of officers, 188. chap. iv.--master's relation to the crew, 189--195. shipment, 189. shipping articles, 189. discharge, 190. imprisonment, 191. punishment, 192. power of consuls as to punishment, 192, 193, 194. chap. v.--passengers, 195, 196. provisions, 195. treatment, 195. passage-money, 196. deportment, 196. services, 196. chap. vi.--mates and subordinates, 197--201. mates included in 'crew,' 197. removal, 197. succession, 198. log-book; wages; sickness, 198. punishment, 199. subordinates, 200. pilots, 200. chap. vii.--seamen. shipping contract, 201--203. shipping contract, 201. erasures and interlineations, 202. unusual stipulations, 202. violation of contract, 202. chap. viii.--seamen--continued, 204--206. rendering on board, 204. refusal to proceed, 204. desertion or absence during the voyage, 205. discharge, 206. chap. ix.--seamen--continued, 207--210. provisions, 207. sickness, medicine-chest, 208. hospital money, 209. relief in foreign ports, 209. protection, 210. chap. x.--seamen--continued, 210--214. punishment, 210. revolt and mutiny, 211. embezzlement, 213. piracy, 214. chap. xi.--seamen's wages, 214--220. wages affected by desertion or absence, 214;--by misconduct, 216;--by imprisonment, 217;--by capture, 218;--by loss of vessel or interruption of voyage, 218. wages on an illegal voyage, 220. chap. xii.--seamen--concluded, 220--223. recovery of wages, 220. remedies, 221. time for commencing suits, 222. interest on wages, 222. salvage, 222. [illustration: plate i.] plate i. the spars and rigging of a ship. index of references. 1 head. 2 head-boards. 3 stem. 4 bows. 5 forecastle. 6 waist. 7 quarter-deck. 8 gangway. 9 counter. 10 stern. 11 tafferel. 12 fore chains. 13 main chains. 14 mizzen chains. 15 bowsprit. 16 jib-boom. 17 flying jib-boom. 18 spritsail yard. 19 martingale. 20 bowsprit cap. 21 foremast. 22 fore topmast. 23 fore topgallant mast. 24 fore royal mast. 25 fore skysail mast. 26 main mast. 27 main topmast. 28 main topgallant mast. 29 main royal mast. 30 main skysail mast. 31 mizzen mast. 32 mizzen topmast. 33 mizzen topgallant mast. 34 mizzen royal mast. 35 mizzen skysail mast. 36 fore spencer gaff. 37 main spencer gaff. 38 spanker gaff. 39 spanker boom. 40 fore top. 41 foremast cap. 42 fore topmast cross-trees. 43 main top. 44 mainmast cap. 45 main topmast cross-trees. 46 mizzen top. 47 mizzenmast cap. 48 mizzen topmast cross-trees. 49 fore yard. 50 fore topsail yard. 51 fore topgallant yard. 52 fore royal yard. 53 main yard. 54 main topsail yard. 55 main topgallant yard. 56 main royal yard. 57 cross-jack yard. 58 mizzen topsail yard. 59 mizzen topgallant yard. 60 mizzen royal yard. 61 fore truck. 62 main truck. 63 mizzen truck. 64 fore stay. 65 fore topmast stay. 66 jib stay. 67 fore topgallant stay. 68 flying-jib stay. 69 fore royal stay. 70 fore skysail stay. 71 jib guys. 72 flying-jib guys. 73 fore lifts. 74 fore braces. 75 fore topsail lifts. 76 fore topsail braces. 77 fore topgallant lifts. 78 fore topgallant braces. 79 fore royal lifts. 80 fore royal braces. 81 fore rigging. 82 fore topmast rigging. 83 fore topgallant shrouds. 84 fore topmast backstays. 85 fore topgallant backstays. 86 fore royal backstays. 87 main stay. 88 main topmast stay. 89 main topgallant stay. 90 main royal stay. 91 main lifts. 92 main braces. 93 main topsail lifts. 94 main topsail braces. 95 main topgallant lifts. 96 main topgallant braces. 97 main royal lifts. 98 main royal braces. 99 main rigging. 100 main topmast rigging. 101 main topgallant rigging. 102 main topmast backstays. 103 main topgallant backstays. 104 main royal backstays. 105 cross-jack lifts. 106 cross-jack braces. 107 mizzen topsail lifts. 108 mizzen topsail braces. 109 mizzen topgallant lifts. 110 mizzen topgal't braces. 111 mizzen royal lifts. 112 mizzen royal braces. 113 mizzen stay. 114 mizzen topmast stay. 115 mizzen topgallant stay. 116 mizzen royal stay. 117 mizzen skysail stay. 118 mizzen rigging. 119 mizzen topmast rigging. 120 mizzen topgal. shrouds. 121 mizzen topmast backstays. 122 mizzen topgal'nt backstays. 123 mizzen royal backstays. 124 fore spencer vangs. 125 main spencer vangs. 126 spanker vangs. 127 ensign halyards. 128 spanker peak halyards. 129 foot-rope to fore yard. 130 foot-rope to main yard. 131 foot-rope to cross-jack yard. [illustration: plate ii.] plate ii. a ship's sails. index of references. 1 fore topmast staysail. 2 jib. 3 flying jib. 4 fore spencer. 5 main spencer. 6 spanker. 7 foresail. 8 fore topsail. 9 fore topgallant sail. 10 fore royal. 11 fore skysail. 12 mainsail. 13 main topsail. 14 main topgallant sail. 15 main royal. 16 main skysail. 17 mizzen topsail. 18 mizzen topgallant sail. 19 mizzen royal. 20 mizzen skysail. 21 lower studdingsail. 21a lee ditto. 22 fore topmast studdingsail. 22a lee ditto. 23 fore topgallant studdingsail. 23a lee ditto. 24 fore royal studdingsail. 24a lee ditto. 25 main topmast studdingsail. 25a lee ditto. 26 main topgallant studdingsail. 26a lee ditto. 27 main royal studdingsail. 27a lee ditto. [illustration: plate iii.] plate iii. the frame of a ship. index of references. a. the outside. 1 upper stem-piece. 2 lower stem-piece. 3 gripe. 4 forward keel-piece. 5 middle keel-piece. 6 after keel-piece. 7 false keel. 8 stern knee. 9 stern-post. 10 rudder. 11 bilge streaks. 12 first streak under the wales. 13 apron. 14 lower apron. 15 fore frame. 16 after frame. 17 wales. 18 waist. 19 plank-shear. 20 timber-heads. 21 stanchions. 22 rail. 23 knight-heads. 24 cathead. 25 fashion timbers. 26 transoms. 27 quarter pieces. b. the inside of the stern. 1 keelson. 2 pointers. 3 chock. 4 transoms. 5 half transoms. 6 main transom. 7 quarter timbers. 8 transom knees. 9 horn timbers. 10 counter-timber knee. 11 stern-post. 12 rudder-head. 13 counter timbers. 14 upper-deck clamp. c. the inside of the bows. 1 keelson. 2 pointers. 3 step for the mast. 4 breast-hook. 5 lower-deck breast-hook. 6 forward beam. 7 upper-deck clamp. 8 knight-heads. 9 hawse timbers. 10 bow timbers. 11 apron of the stem. d. the timbers. 1 keelson. 2 floor timbers. 3 naval timbers or ground futtocks. 4 lower futtocks. 5 middle futtocks. 6 upper futtocks. 7 top timbers. 8 half timbers, or half top-timbers. plate iv. explanations. ship.--a ship is square-rigged throughout; that is, she has tops, and carries square sails on all three of her masts. bark.--a bark is square-rigged at her fore and main masts, and differs from a ship in having no top, and carrying only fore-and-aft sails at her mizzenmast. brig.--a full-rigged brig is square-rigged at both her masts. hermaphrodite brig.--an hermaphrodite brig is square-rigged at her foremast; but has no top, and only fore-and-aft sails at her main mast. topsail schooner.--a topsail schooner has no tops at her foremast, and is fore-and-aft rigged at her mainmast. she differs from an hermaphrodite brig in that she is not properly square-rigged at her foremast, having no top, and carrying a fore-and-aft foresail, in stead of a square foresail and a spencer. fore-and-aft schooner.--a fore-and-aft schooner is fore-and-aft rigged throughout, differing from a topsail schooner in that the latter carries small square sails aloft at the fore. sloop.--a sloop has one mast, fore-and-aft rigged. hermaphrodite brigs sometimes carry small square sails aloft at the main; in which case they are called brigantines, and differ from a full-rigged brig in that they have no top at the mainmast, and carry a fore-and-aft mainsail instead of a square mainsail and trysail. some topsail schooners carry small square sails aloft at the main as well as the fore; being in other respects fore-and-aft rigged. they are then called main topsail schooners. [illustration: plate iv. ship bark full-rigged brig hermaphrodite brig top-sail schooner fore & aft schooner sloop] part i. chapter i. general rules and observations. construction of vessels. tonnage and carriage of merchant vessels. proportions of the spars. placing the masts. size of anchors and cables. lead-lines. log-line. ballast and lading. construction of vessels.--as merchant vessels of the larger class are now built in the united states, the extreme length of deck, from the after part of the stern-post to the fore part of the stem, is from four and a half to four and three fourths that of the beam, at its widest part. the damascus, of 700 tons' measurement, built at boston in 1839, and considered a fair specimen of our best freighting vessels, had 150 feet from stem to stern-post, and 32 feet 6 inches extreme breadth. the rajah, of 530 tons, built at boston in 1837, had 140 feet length, and 30 feet beam;--being each in length about four and six tenths their beam. a great contrast to this proportion is exhibited in the most recent statistics (1841) of vessels of the same tonnage in the english navy; as the following table will show. tons. deck. beam. proportion. {dido 734 120 ft. 37 ft. 6 in. 3.20 english {pilot 492 105 33 6 3.13 navy. {alert 358 95 30 4 3.16 american {damascus 694 150 32 6 4.60 merchantmen. {rajah 531 140 30 0 4.66 these may, perhaps, be considered the extremes of ship-building; and between these there is every grade of difference. tonnage and carriage of merchant vessels.--the amount a vessel will carry in proportion to her tonnage, depends upon whether, and to what extent, she is full or sharp built. a sharp-built vessel of 300 tons' measurement, will carry just about her tonnage of measurement goods. a sharp-built vessel of 200 tons or under would probably carry less than her measurement; if over 400 tons, she would increase gradually to fifty per cent. above her measurement. a sharp-built vessel of 600 tons, is generally rated at 900 tons carriage. a full-built vessel of 300 tons, after the latest model of american freighting vessels, will carry 525 tons, or seventy-five per cent. above her measurement; and one of 500 tons would carry full double her measurement. the following table may give a pretty fair average. tons of measurement goods. tonnage. full built. sharp built. 300 (.75) 525 (.00) 300 400 (.80) 725 (.40) 560 500 (1.00) 1000 (.50) 750 600 (1.33) 1400 (.50) 900 proportions of spars.--there is no particular rule for sparring merchant vessels; some being light, and others heavy sparred; and some having long topmasts and short lower masts, and others the reverse. the prevailing custom now is, to spar them lightly; the main yard being a little less than double the beam; and the others proportioned by the main. most merchant vessels now have the yards at the fore and main of the same size, for convenience in shifting sails; so that the same topsail may be bent on either yard. the following table, taken from the "seamen's manual," will show the average proportions of the spars of merchant vessels of the largest class, as formerly built. main-mast, two and a half times the ship's beam. fore-mast, eight ninths of the main-mast. mizzen-mast, five sixths of the main-mast. bowsprit, two thirds of the main-mast. topmasts, three fifths of the lower masts. topgallant masts, one half the length of their topmasts. jib-boom, the length of the bowsprit. main-yard, twice the beam. fore-yard, seven eighths of the main-yard. maintopsail-yard, two thirds of the main-yard. foretopsail-yard, two thirds of the fore-yard. crossjack-yard, the length of the maintopsail-yard. topgallant-yards, two thirds of the topsail-yards. mizzentopsail-yard, the length of the maintopgallant-yard. royal-yards, two thirds of the topgallant-yards. spritsail-yard, five sixths of the foretopsail-yard. spanker-boom, the length of the maintopsail-yard. spanker-gaff, two thirds of the boom. for the thickness of the spars, the same book allows for the lower masts one inch and a quarter diameter at the partners, for every three feet of length; and nine tenths in the middle and two thirds under the hounds, for every inch at the partners. for the yards, one inch at the slings, and half an inch at the yard-arms, within the squares, for every four feet of the length. for the breadth of the maintop, one half of the beam, and of the foretop, eight ninths of the maintop. the following are the proportions of the spars of the ship damascus, before mentioned, built in 1839. main-mast 74 ft. head 11 ft. 6 in. size 26 in. fore-mast 70 ft. head 11 ft. 6 in. size 25 in. mizzen-mast 68 ft. head 8 ft. 6 in. size 18 in. main and fore topmasts 41 ft. head 6 ft. 6 in. size 14-1/2 in. mizzen topmast 32 ft. head 5 ft. size 9-1/2 in. main topgallant-mast 23 ft. (15 ft. with 2 feet head.) size 9-1/2 in. fore topgallant-mast 21 ft. 14 ft. with 2 feet head.) size 9-1/2 in. mizzen topgallant-mast 17 ft. 11 ft. with 18 in. with 2 feet head.) main and fore yards 60 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. 6 in. main and fore topsail yards 48 ft. yard-arms 3 ft. 6 in. main topgallant yard 37 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. fore topgallant yard 34 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. main royal yard 27 ft. yard-arms 1 ft. 6 in. fore royal yard 24 ft. yard-arms 1 ft. 6 in. main skysail yard 17 ft. fore skysail yard 15 ft. cross-jack yard 44 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. mizzen topsail yard 35 ft. yard-arms 2 ft. 9 in. mizzen topgallant yard 25 ft. yard-arms 1 ft. 6 in. mizzen royal yard 16 ft. mizzen skysail yard 10 ft. bowsprit, out-board 27 ft. size 26 in. jib-boom 42 ft. head 3 ft. size 14-1/2 in. flying jib-boom 40 ft. head 3 ft. 6 in. main pole 12 ft., 10 above royal-mast, 5 in. in cap. fore pole 11 ft., 9 above royal-mast, 4-1/2 in. in cap. mizzen pole 9 ft., 7 above royal-mast spanker-boom 40 ft. spanker-gaff 30 ft. swinging-booms 40 ft. topmast studdingsail-booms 34 ft. topgallant studdingsail-booms 27 ft., yards for do. 17 ft. placing the masts.--for a full-built ship, take the ship's extreme length and divide it into sevenths. place the foremast one seventh of this length from the stem; the mainmast three sevenths from the foremast, and the mizzenmast two sevenths from the mainmast. if a vessel is sharp-built, and her stem and stern-post rake, her foremast should be further aft, and her mizzenmast further forward, than the rule of sevenths would give. a common rule for placing the foremast, is to deduct three fifths of a ship's beam from her length, for the curvature of the keel forward, which is called the _keel-stroke_, and place the mast next abaft the keel-stroke. size of anchors and cables.--various rules have been adopted for the weight of a ship's anchors. a vessel of 100 tons will generally have a best bower of 6 cwt. and a small bower of 5 cwt.; the weight of both being eleven pounds to a ton of the vessel. as a vessel increases in size, the proportion diminishes. a vessel of 700 tons will usually carry a best bower of 27 cwt. and a small bower of 24 cwt.; the weight of both being seven and a half pounds to a ton of the vessel. the _stream_ should be a little more than one third the weight of the best bower. the anchor-stock should be the length of the shank; its diameter should be half that of the ring, and its thickness one inch at the middle and half an inch at each end for every foot in length. chain cables are usually ninety fathoms in length, for large-sized vessels, and sixty for small vessels, as schooners and sloops. the regulation of the united states navy for chain cables, is one inch and a half for a sloop of war, and one and a quarter for brigs and schooners. in the merchant service, a ship of 400 tons would probably have a best bower cable of one and five sixths, and a working bower of one and a quarter inches. a ship of 700 tons would have a best bower of one and five eighths, and a working bower of one and a half inches. chain cables have a shackle at every fifteen fathoms, and one swivel at the first shackle. some have two swivels; and formerly they were made with a swivel between each shackle. lead-lines.--the _hand-lead_ weighs usually seven pounds, and the hand-line is from twenty to thirty fathoms in length. the _deep-sea-lead_ (pro. dipsey) weighs from fourteen to eighteen or twenty pounds; and the deep-sea-line is from ninety to one hundred and ten fathoms. the proper way to mark a hand-line is, black leather at 2 and 3 fathoms; white rag at 5; red rag at 7; wide strip of leather, with a hole in it, at 10; and 13, 15 and 17 marked like 3, 5 and 7; two knots at 20; 3 at 30; and 4 at 40; with single pieces of cord at 25 and 35. the deep-sea-line has one knot at 20 fathoms, and an additional knot at every 10 fathoms, with single knots at each intermediate 5 fathoms. it sometimes has a strip of leather at 10 fathoms, and from 3 to 10 is marked like the hand-line. log-line.--the rate of a ship's sailing is measured by a log-line and a half-minute glass. the line is marked with a knot for each mile; the real distance between each knot being, however, 1/120 of a mile, since a half-minute is 1/120 of an hour. a knot being thus the same portion of a mile that a half-minute is of an hour, the number of knots carried off while the glass is running out will show the number of miles the vessel goes in an hour. many glasses, however, are made for twenty-eight seconds, which, of course, reduces the number of feet for a knot to forty-seven and six tenths. but as the line is liable to stretch and the glass to be affected by the weather, in order to avoid all danger of a vessel's overrunning her reckoning, and to be on the safe side, it is recommended to mark forty-five feet to a knot for a twenty-eight second glass. about ten fathoms is left unmarked next the chip, called _stray-line_. the object of this is that the chip may get out of the eddy under the stern, before the measuring begins. the end of the stray-line is marked by a white rag, and the first knot is forty-five or forty-seven feet from the rag. a single piece of cord or twine is put into the line for the first knot, one knot for the second, two for the fourth, three for the sixth, and so on, a single piece of cord being put in at the intermediate knots. ballast and lading.--a ship's behavior, as the phrase is, depends as much upon the manner in which she is loaded and ballasted, as upon her model. it is said that a vessel may be prevented from rolling heavily, if, when the ballast is iron, it is stowed up to the floor-heads; because this will bring the ship back, after she has inclined, with less violence, and will act upon a point but little distant from the centre of gravity, and not interfere with her stiff carrying of sail. the cargo should be stowed with the weightier materials as near as possible to the centre of gravity, and high or low, according to the build of the vessel. if the vessel is full and low built, the heavy articles should be stowed high up, that the centre of gravity may be raised and the vessel kept from rolling too much, and from being too laborsome. but a narrow, high-built vessel should have the heavy articles stowed low and near the keelson, which will tend to keep her from being crank, and enable her to carry sail to more advantage. chapter ii. cutting and fitting standing rigging. measuring and cutting lower rigging and lower fore-and-aft stays. fitting the same. measuring, cutting, and fitting topmast rigging, stays, and backstays. jib, topgallant, and royal stays. rattling down rigging. cutting and fitting lifts, foot-ropes, brace-block straps, and pennants. breast-backstays. cutting lower rigging.--draw a line from the side of the partners abreast of the mast, on the deck, parallel to the channels, and to extend as far aft as they do. on this line mark the places of each dead-eye, corresponding to their places against the channels. send a line up to the mast-head, and fasten it to the mast by a nail above the bibbs, in a range with the centre of the mast, and opposite to the side the channel line is drawn upon. then take the bight of the line around the forward part of the mast, and fasten it to the mast by a nail, opposite the first nail, so that the part between the nails will be half the circumference of the mast-head; then take the line down to the mark on the channel line for the forward dead-eye, and mark it as before; and so on, until you have got the distance between the mast and each mark on the channel line. now cast off the line from the mast-head, and the distance between the end of the line and each mark will give you the length of each shroud from the lower part of the mast-head. and, to make an allowance for one pair of shrouds overlaying another, you may increase the length of the pair put on second, that is, the larboard forward ones, by twice the diameter of the rigging; the third pair by four times; and so on. the size of the lower rigging should be as much as eight and a half inches for vessels of seven or eight hundred tons, and from seven and a half to eight for smaller vessels, over three hundred tons. for the length of the fore, main, and mizzen stays and spring-stays, take the distance from the after part of the mast-head to their hearts, or to the place where they are set up, adding once the length of the mast-head for the collar. the standing stays should be once and half the circumference of the shrouds. fitting lower rigging.--get it on a stretch, and divide each pair of shrouds into thirds, and mark the centre of the middle third. tar, worm, parcel and serve the middle third. parcel _with_ the lay of the rope, working toward the centre; and serve _against_ the lay, beginning where you left off parcelling. serve as taut as possible. in some vessels the outer thirds of the swifters are served; but matting and battens are neater and more generally used. formerly the middle third was parcelled over the service, below the wake of the futtock staff. mark an eye at the centre of the middle third, by seizing the parts together with a round seizing. the eye of the pair of shrouds that goes on first should be once and a quarter the circumference of the mast-head; and make each of the others in succession the breadth of a seizing larger than the one below it. parcel the score of the dead-eye, and heave the shroud taut round it, turning in _with_ the sun, if right-hand-laid rope, and _against_ the sun, if hawser-laid; then pass the throat seizing with nine or ten turns, the outer turns being slacker than the middle ones. pass the quarter seizings half way to the end, and then the end seizings, and cap the shroud, well tarred under the cap. make a matthew walker knot in one end of the lanyard, reeve the other end _out_ through the dead-eye of the shroud, beginning at the side of the dead-eye upon which the end of the shroud comes, and _in_ through the dead-eye in the channels, so that the hauling part of the lanyard may come in-board and on the same side with the standing part of the shroud. if the shroud is right-hand-laid rope, the standing part of the shroud will be aft on the starboard, and forward on the larboard side; and the reverse, if hawser-laid. the neatest way of setting up the lower fore-and-aft stays, is by reeving them _down_ through a bull's eye, with tarred parcelling upon the thimble, and setting them up on their ends, with three or four seizings. the collar of the stay is the length of the mast-head, and is leathered over the service. the service should go beyond the wake of the foot of the topsail, and the main-stay should be served in the wake of the foremast. the main and spring stays usually pass on different sides of the foremast, and set up at the hawse-pieces. the bolsters under the eyes of the rigging should always be covered with tarred parcelling, marled on. the starboard forward shroud goes on first; then the larboard; and so on. the fore stay and spring stay go over the shrouds; and the head stays always go over the backstays. cutting and fitting topmast rigging.--for the forward shroud, measure from the hounds of the topmast down to the after part of the lower trestle-trees, and add to that length half the circumference of the mast-head at the hounds. the eye is once and a quarter the circumference of the mast-head. the topmast rigging in size should be three fifths of the lower rigging. for the topmast backstays, measure the distance from the hounds of the mast down to the centre of the deck, abreast of their dead-eyes in the channels, and add to this length one half the circumference of the mast-head. add to the length of the larboard pair, which goes on last, twice the diameter of the rope. the size of the fore and main topmast backstays is generally one quarter less than that of the lower rigging; and that of the mizzen topmast backstays the same as that of the main topmast rigging. the size of the topmast stays should be once and a quarter that of the rigging. the topmast rigging is fitted in the same manner as the lower. the backstays should be leathered in the wake of the tops and lower yards. the breast-backstays are turned in upon blocks instead of dead-eyes, and set up with a luff purchase. the fore topmast stay sets up on the starboard, and the spring stay on the larboard side of the bowsprit. all the fore-and-aft stays are now set up on their ends, and should be leathered in their nips, as well as in their eyes. the main topmast stay goes through a heart or thimble at the foremast-head, or through a hole in the cap, and sets up on deck or in the top; and the mizzen topmast stay sets up at the mainmast-head, above the rigging. jib, topgallant, and royal rigging.--the jib stay sets up on its end on the larboard side of the head, and is served ten feet from the boom, and its collar is leathered like that of the topmast stay. the gaub lines or back ropes go from the martingale in-board. the guys are fitted in pairs, rove through straps or snatches on the spritsail yard, and set up to eye-bolts inside of or abaft the cat-heads. the foot-ropes are three quarters the length of the whole boom, and go over the boom-end with a cut splice. overhand knots or turks-heads should be taken in them at equal distances, to prevent the men from slipping, when laying out upon them. the most usual method of fitting topgallant rigging in merchantmen, is to reeve it through holes in the horns of the cross-trees, then pass it between the topmast shrouds over the futtock staff, and set it up at an iron band round the topmast, just below the sheave-hole; or else down into the top, and set it up there. to get the length of the starboard forward shroud, measure from the topgallant mast-head to the heel of the topmast, and add one half the circumference of the topgallant mast-head. its size should be about five sevenths of the topmast rigging. each pair of shrouds should be served below the futtock staves. they are fitted like the topmast shrouds. the fore-and-aft stays of long topgallant masts go with eyes, and are served and leathered in the wake of the foot of the sails. the fore topgallant stay leads in on the starboard side of the bowsprit, and sets up to a bolt at the hawse-piece; the main leads through a chock on the after part of the fore topmast cross-trees, and sets up in the top; and the mizzen usually through a thimble on the main cap, and sets up on its end. the topgallant backstays set up on their end, or with lanyards in the channels; and for their length, measure from the mast-head to the centre of the deck, abreast the bolt in the channels. the royal shrouds, backstays, and fore-and-aft stays, are fitted like those of the topgallant masts, and bear the same proportion to them that the topgallant bear to the topmast. the fore royal stay reeves through the outer sheave-hole of the flying jib-boom, and comes in on the larboard side; the main through a thimble at the fore jack-cross-trees; and the mizzen through a thimble at the maintopmast cap. the flying jib-stay goes in on the starboard side, and sets up like the jib-stay. the gear of the flying jib-boom is fitted like that of the jib-boom. ratling.--swift the rigging well in, and lash handspikes or boat's oars outside at convenient distances, parallel with the shear-pole. splice a small eye in the end of the ratlin, and seize it with yarns to the after shroud on the starboard side and to the forward on the larboard, so that the hitches may go _with_ the sun. take a clove hitch round each shroud, hauling well taut, and seize the eye of the other end to the shroud. the ratlins of the lower rigging should be thirteen, and of the topmast rigging eleven inches apart, and all square with the shear-pole. standing rigging of the yards.--the first thing to go upon the lower yard-arm, next the shoulder, is the head-earing strap; the next, the foot-ropes; next, the brace-block; and lastly, the lift. the foot-ropes go with an eye over the yard-arm, are rove through thimbles in the end of the stirrups, (sometimes with turks-heads, to prevent their slipping,) and are lashed to bolts or thimbles, but now usually to the iron trusses. the stirrups fit to staples in the yard, with an eye-splice. the lifts should be single, and fitted with an eye over the yard-arm, and lead through a single block at the mast-head, and set up by a gun or luff tackle purchase, with the double block hooked to a thimble or turned in at the end, and the lower block to an eye-bolt in the deck. instead of brace-blocks on the fore and main yards, brace-pennants fitted over the yard-arm with an eye are neater. the latest and neatest style of rigging lower yards is to have a strong iron band with eyes and thimbles round each yard-arm, close to the shoulder; and then fit the lift, foot-rope, and brace-pennant, each to one of these eyes, with an eye-splice round the thimble or with a hook. the lower lifts now, for the most part, cross each other over a saddle upon the cap, instead of going through blocks. the inner ends of the foot-ropes to the topsail, topgallant and royal yards, cross each other at the slings; and on the topsail yard there are flemish-horses, spliced round thimbles on the boom-iron, and the other end seized to the yard, crossing the foot-rope. a neater mode is to hook the outer end of the flemish-horse, so that it may be unhooked and furled in with the sails when in port. next to the foot-ropes go on the brace-blocks, and lastly, the lifts. the rigging to the topgallant and royal yards is fitted similarly to that upon the topsail, except that there is nothing over the yard-arms but foot-rope, brace and lift. the brace to the royal yard fits with an eye. the reef-tackle, studding-sail halyard, and other temporary blocks, are seized to the lower and topsail yard-arms by open straps, so that they may be removed without taking off the lift. the topgallant studding-sail halyard block is often hooked to the boom-iron, under the yard. the foot-ropes to the spanker-boom should be half the length of the boom, going over the end with a splice, covered with canvass, and coming in one third of the way to the jaws, and seized to the boom by a rose-seizing through an eye-splice. the next to go over the boom-end are the guys, which are fitted with a cut-splice covered with canvass, and have a single block turned in at their other ends. to these single blocks are luff or gun-tackle purchases, going to the main brace-bumpkin. their length should be two fifths that of the boom. the topping-lifts are usually hooked into a band or spliced into bolts about one quarter the distance from the outer end of the boom, and reeve through single blocks under the top, with a double or single block at their lower ends. all the splices and seizings of the standing rigging should be covered with canvass, if possible, except in the channels and about the head, where they are too much exposed to the washing of water. a vessel looks much neater for having the ends of the rigging, where eyes are spliced, or where they are set up on their ends aloft or on deck, covered with canvass, and painted white or black, according to the place where they are. the lanyards and dead-eyes of the smaller rigging which sets up in the top may also be covered with canvass. the lanyards, dead-eyes, and turnings-in of the rigging in the channels, should always be protected by scotchmen when at sea, and the forward shroud should be matted or battened all the way up to the futtock staves. in some smaller merchantmen the lower rigging is not infrequently set up upon its end to bolts in the rail. this is very inconvenient on many accounts, especially as all the seizings have to be come up with, and the nip of the shroud altered, whenever it is at all necessary to set them taut. this soon defaces and wears out the ends; while, with dead-eyes, only the lanyards have to be come up with. some vessels set up their lower rigging with dead-eyes upon the rail. this is convenient in setting them up in bad weather, but does not give so much spread as when set up in the channels, and presents a more complicated surface to the eye. if the rigging is fitted in this way, you must deduct the height of the rail above the deck from the measure before given for cutting it. breast-backstays.--it is not usual, now, for merchant vessels to carry topmast breast-backstays. if they are carried, they are spread by out-riggers from the top. topgallant and royal breast-backstays are used, and are of great assistance in sailing on the wind. there are various ways of rigging them out, of which the following is suggested as a neat and convenient one. have a spar fitted for an out-rigger, about the size of one of the horns of the cross-trees, with three holes bored in it, two near to one end, and the third a little the other side of the middle. place it upon the after horn of the cross-tree, with the last-mentioned hole over the hole in the end of the horn of the cross-tree, and let the after topgallant shroud reeve through it. reeve the topgallant and royal breast-backstays through the outer holes, and set them up by a gun-tackle purchase, in the channels.[1] the inner end of the out-rigger should fit to a cleat, and be lashed to the cross-tree by a lanyard. when the breast-backstays are to be rigged in, cast off the lanyard, and let the out-rigger slue round the topgallant shroud for a pivot, the inner end going aft, and the outer end, with the backstays, resting against the forward shroud. one of these out-riggers should be fitted on each side, and all trouble of shifting over, and rigging out by purchase, will be avoided. [1] the royal breast-backstay may be used as the fall of the purchase. chapter iii. fitting and reeving running rigging. fore braces. main braces. cross-jack braces. fore, main, and mizzen topsail braces. fore, main, and mizzen topgallant and royal braces. trusses. topsail tyes and halyards. topgallant and royal halyards. peak and throat halyards. spanker brails. fore and main tacks and sheets. topsail, topgallant and royal sheets and clewlines. reef-tackles. clew-garnets. fore and main buntlines, leechlines, and slablines. topsail clewlines and buntlines. bowlines. to reeve a brace, begin on deck, and reeve to where the standing part is made fast. the _fore braces_ reeve _up_ through a block on the mainmast just below the rigging, _down_ or _in_ through the brace-block on the yard or at the end of the pennant, and the standing part is brought through the cheeks of the mast with a knot inside. the neatest way for reeving the _main brace_ is _out_ through a single block on the brace-bumpkin, _out_ through the brace-pennant-block, _in_ through an outer block on the bumpkin, and seized to the strap of the pennant. another way is _out_ through the bumpkin block, _out_ or _down_ through the pennant block, and secure the end to the bumpkin or to the fashion-piece below. the _cross-jack braces_ reeve _up_ through blocks on the after shroud of the main rigging, _up_ through blocks on the yard, one third of the way in from the yard-arm, and are seized to a bolt in the mainmast, or to the after shroud again. the _fore topsail braces_ reeve _up_ through the blocks secured to the bibbs at the mainmast-head, _in_ through the span-block at the collar of the main stay, _up_ through the block on the yard, and are seized to the main topmast-head; or else _up_ through a block at the topmast-head, down through the brace-block on the yard, and are seized to the collar of the main stay. the last way is the best. the _main topsail braces_ are rove through span-blocks at the mizzen-mast, below the top, _up_ through the blocks on the yard, and are seized to the mizzen topmast-head; or else _up_ through a block at the mizzen-mast-head, _down_ through the block on the yard, and secured to the mizzen-mast. the first way is the best. the _mizzen topsail braces_ reeve _up_ through the leading blocks or fair-leaders on the main rigging, _up_ through blocks at the mainmast-head, or at the after part of the top, _up_ through the yard blocks, and are seized to the cap. the _fore_ and _main topgallant braces_ are rove _up_ through blocks under the topmast cross-trees, _in_ through span-blocks on the topmast stays, just below their collars, _up_ through the blocks on the yards, and the main are usually seized to the head of the mizzen topgallant mast, and the fore to the topmast stay, by the span-block. the _mizzen topgallant braces_ generally go single, through a block at the after part of the main top-mast cross-trees. the _royal braces_ go single: the _fore_, through a block at the main topgallant mast-head; the _main_, through one at the mizzen topgallant mast-head; and the _mizzen_, through a block at the after part of the main topmast cross-trees. halyards.--the _lower yards_ are now hung by patent iron trusses, which allow the yard to be moved in any direction; topped up or braced. the _topsail yards_ have chain tyes, which are hooked to the slings of the yard, and rove through the sheave-hole at the mast-head. the other end of the tye hooks to a block. through this block a chain runner leads, with its standing part hooked to an eye-bolt in the trestle-tree, and with the upper halyard-block hooked to its other end. the halyards should be a luff purchase, the fly-block being the double block, and the single block being hooked in the channels. sometimes they are a gun-tackle purchase, with two large single blocks. the lower block of the mizzen topsail halyards is usually in the mizzen-top, the fall coming down on deck. the _fore_ and _mizzen topsail halyards_ come down to port, and the main to the starboard. the _topgallant halyards_ come down on opposite sides from the topsail halyards; though the fore and main usually come down by the side of the masts. the fore and main topgallant halyards sometimes hoist with a gun-tackle purchase, but the mizzen and all the royal halyards are single. the _throat and peak halyards_ of the spanker are fitted in the following manner. the outer peak halyard block is put on the gaff, one third of its length from the outer end, or a very little, if any, within the leech of the sail; and the inner one, two thirds in. the blocks are fitted round the gaff with grommet straps, and are kept in their places by cleats. the double block of the peak halyards is strapped to the bolt in the after part of the mizzen cap, and the halyards are rove _up_ through this, _in_ through the blocks on the gaff, the inner one first, the standing part made fast to the double block, and the fall coming on deck. the upper block of the throat halyards is secured under the cap, and the lower block is hooked to an eye-bolt on the jaws of the gaff. this is a two-fold tackle. the spanker brails.--the _peak brails_ reeve through single blocks on the gaff, two on each side, generally span-blocks, and then through the throat brail blocks, as leaders, to the deck. the _throat brails_ reeve through two triple blocks strapped to eye-bolts under the jaws of the gaff, one on each side, through the two other sheaves of which the peak brails lead. each brail is a single rope, middled at the leech of the sail. tacks, sheets, clewlines, &c.--it is much more convenient to have the tack and sheet blocks of the courses fastened to the clews of the courses by hooks. then they can be unhooked when the sail is furled, and, in light weather, a single rope with a hook, called a _lazy sheet_, can be used, instead of the heavy tacks and sheets with their blocks. this is also much more convenient in clewing up. the _main tack_ is rove _aft_ through the block in the waterways, _forward_ through the block on the sail, and the standing part hooks to the block on deck. the _fore tack_ goes through a block on the bumpkin. the _sheets_ of the courses have the after block hooked to an eye-bolt in the side, abaft the channels, and the forward one hooked to the clew of the sail, the running part reeving through a sheave-hole in the rail. the sheets of all the square sails but the courses run from the clew of the sail, through sheave-holes in the yard-arms, through the quarter blocks, down on deck. the _topsail sheets_ are chain, are clasped to the clews of the sail, and are fitted with a gun-tackle purchase at the foot of the mast. the _topgallant_ and _royal sheets_ are single. the _topsail_ and _topgallant clewlines_ reeve through the quarter-blocks. the _royal clewlines_ are single, and the topsail and topgallant are a gun-tackle purchase. the _reef-tackles_ of the topsails reeve _up_ through blocks on the lower rigging, or futtock shrouds, _down_ through the block on the yard, down the leech of the sail and through the block on the leech, and are made fast to the yard on their own parts, with a clinch, outside of everything. the _clew-garnets_ reeve _out_ through blocks under the quarters of the yard, then _up_ through blocks at the clew, and the standing part is made fast to the yard, to the block, or to a strap. the _buntlines_ of the courses reeve through double or triple blocks under the forward part of the top, down forward of the sail, sometimes through thimbles in the first reef-band, and are clinched to the foot of the sail. the _leechlines_ reeve through single blocks on the yard, and are clinched to the leech of the sail. the _slabline_ is a small rope rove through a block under the slings of the yard, and clinched to the foot of the sail. this is not much used in merchant vessels. the _topsail clewlines_ lead like the clew-garnets of the courses. the _topsail buntlines_ reeve forward through single blocks at the topmast-head, down through the thimbles of a lizard seized to the tye, just above the yard, and are clinched to the foot of the sail. the handiest way of reeving the _main bowline_ is to have a single rope with the standing part hooked near the foremast, and reeve it _out_ through a heart in the bridle. this will answer for both sides. the _fore bowline_ may be rove through a single block at the heel of the jib-boom and hooked to the bridle. the bowlines to the other sails are toggled to the bridles and lead forward. many vessels now dispense with all the bowlines except to the courses. this saves trouble, makes a ship look neater, and, if the sails are well cut, they will set taut enough in the leach, without bowlines. chapter iv. to rig masts and yards. rigging the shears. taking in lower masts and bowsprit. to rig a bowsprit. getting the tops over the mast-heads. to send up a top-mast. to get on a top-mast cap. to rig a jib-boom. to cross a lower yard. to cross a topgallant yard. to send up a topgallant mast. long, short, and stump topgallant masts. to rig out a flying jib-boom. to cross topgallant and royal yards. skysail yards. taking in lower masts and bowsprit.--shore up the beams upon which the heels of the shears will rest, if necessary, from the keelson. parbuckle the shears aboard, with their heads aft. raise their heads upon the taffrail, cross them, and pass the shear-lashing. lash the upper block of a three-fold tackle under the cross, and secure the lower block to the breast-hooks, or to a toggle in the hawse-hole. you may also reeve and secure, in the same manner, a smaller purchase, which shall work clear of the first. have two forward and two after guys clove-hitched to the shear-head, with cleats to prevent their slipping. get a girt-line on one shear-head and a small tackle on the other, to slue and cant the mast. let the fall of the main tackle come through the middle sheave, to prevent the block's sluing in its strap. reeve large heel tackles to rouse the shears aft with. put long oak plank shoes under the heels; and, if it be necessary, clap a thwart-ship tackle upon the two heels, or reeve a lashing, and put a stout plank between them, and bowse taut; which will prevent too great a strain coming upon the water-ways. take the main tackle fall to the capstan; heave round, haul on the forward guy and after heel tackles, and raise the shear to an angle of about eighty degrees with the deck, and so that the main purchase will hang plumb with the partners of the mizzen-mast. lash a garland to the forward part of the mast, above the centre, and toggle the purchase to it. heave the mast in over the bulwarks; fit the trestle-trees and after chock; reeve girt-lines by which men may be hoisted when the mast is in; point the mast in, and lower away. always take in the mizzen-mast first. get in the main and then the foremast in the same manner, rousing the shears forward, with their shoes, by means of the heel tackles. having stepped and secured the foremast, carry the forward guys aft and rake the shears over the bows; toggle the lower block of the main tackle to a garland lashed to the upper part of the bowsprit inside of the centre. put on the cap, and carry tackles or guys from the bowsprit-head to each cat-head, and clap on a heel tackle or guy. heave the bowsprit, and direct it by the small tackles and guys. to rig a bowsprit.--lash collars for the fore stay, bobstays, and bowsprit shrouds, then for the spring stay, and put on the bees for the topmast stays; fit the man-ropes, pass the gammoning, and set up bobstays and shrouds. to get the tops over the mast-heads.--place the top on deck abaft the mast; get a girt-line on each side of the mast-head, and pass the end of each under the top, through the holes in the after part; clinch them to their own parts, and stop them to the fore part of the top with slip-stops. have a guy to the fore and another to the after part of the top. make the ends of a span fast to the after corners of the top, and bend a girt-line from the mast-head to the bight of the span, and stop it to the forward part of the top. sway away on the girt-lines. when the fore part of the top is above the trestle-trees, cut the span-stops, and when the after part is above them, cast off the slip-stops. when the lubber-hole is high enough to clear the mast-head, haul on the forward guy, and let the top hang horizontally by the girt-lines. lower away, place and bolt it. the fore and main tops are sent up from abaft, and the mizzen from forward. the tops may be got over without the span and girt-line, by stopping the two girt-lines first rove to the middle as well as to the fore part of the top, and cutting the upper stops first. to send up a topmast.--get the topmast alongside, with its head forward. lash a top-block to the head of the lower-mast; reeve a mast-rope through it, from aft forward, and bring the end down and reeve it through the sheave-hole of the topmast, hitching it to its own part a little below the topmast-head, and stopping both parts to the mast, at intervals. snatch the rope and sway away. as soon as the head is through the lower cap, cast off the end of the mast-rope, letting the mast hang by the stops, and hitch it to the staple in the other end of the cap. cast off the stops and sway away. point the head of the mast between the trestle-trees and through the hole in the lower cap, the round hole of which must be put over the square hole of the trestle-trees. lash the cap to the mast, hoist away, and when high enough, lower a little and secure the cap to the lower mast-head. (this is when it cannot be put on by hand.) if the cross-trees are heavy, they may be placed in the following manner. sway away until the topmast-head is a few feet above the lower cap. send up the cross-trees by girt-lines, and let the after part rest on the lower cap and the forward part against the topmast. lower away the topmast until the cross-trees fall into their place, and then hoist until they rest on the shoulders. lash on the bolsters, get girt-lines on the cross-trees to send up the rigging, and then put it over the mast-head, first the shrouds, then the backstays, and lastly the head-stays. sway the topmast on end, fid it, and set up the rigging. to get on a topmast-cap.--in vessels of the largest class, it may be necessary to send up the cap in the following manner, but it can usually be got up by hand. or it may be fitted and the rigging put on over it. send the cap up to the cross-trees by girt-lines, and place the round hole of the cap over the forward hole of the cross-trees; send aloft a topgallant studdingsail boom, and point its upper end through the holes in the cross-trees and cap, and lash the cap to it. hook a tackle or girt-line to a strap on the lower end of the spar, and sway away until the cap is over the mast-head. slue the spar so that the cap may come fair, lower away, and place the cap upon the mast-head. unlash the spar and send it down. to rig out a jib-boom.--point the outer end through the collars of the stays. reeve the heel-rope through a block at the bowsprit cap, through the sheave-hole at the heel of the boom, and secure the end to an eye-bolt in the cap on the opposite side. rig the boom out until the inner sheave-hole is clear of the cap. tar the boom-end, put on the foot-ropes and guys, and reeve the jib stay. hoist up the martingale and rig it, and reeve the martingale stay and gaub-line. rig the boom out to its place, and set up the jib and martingale stays. to cross a lower yard.--if the yard is alongside, reeve the yard rope through the jear block at the mast-head, make it fast to the slings of the yard, and stop it out to the yard-arm. sway away, and cast off the stops as the yard comes over the side, and get the yard across the bulwarks. lower yards are rigged now with iron trusses and quarter-blocks, which would be fitted before rigging the yard. seize on the clew-garnet block, and put the rigging over the yard-arm; first the straps for the head-earings, then the foot-ropes, then the brace blocks or pennants, and last the eye of the lift. (the lifts, brace pennants, and foot-ropes are now spliced or hooked into rings with thimbles on an iron band, round the yard-arm, next the shoulders. in this way, there is no rope of any kind round the yard-arm.) reeve the lifts and braces, get two large tackles from the mast-head to the quarters of the yard, and sway away on them and on the lifts, bearing off and sluing the yard by means of guys. secure the yard by the iron trusses, and haul taut lifts and braces. to cross a topsail yard.--as topsail yards now have chain tyes, there are no tye-blocks to seize on. the quarter-blocks are first seized on, and the parral secured at one end, ready to be passed. a single parral has an eye in each end, and one end is passed under the yard and over, and the eye seized to the standing part, close to the yard. after the yard is crossed, the other end is passed round the mast, then round the yard, and seized in the same manner. to pass a double parral, proceed in the same manner, except that the seizings are passed so as to leave the eyes clear and above the standing part, and then take a short rope with an eye in each end, pass it round the mast, and seize the eyes to the eyes of the first long rope. the parral is wormed, served and leathered. the parral being seized at one end, put on the head-earing straps, the foot-ropes, flemish horses, and brace blocks. bend the yard-rope to the slings, stop it out to the yard-arm, and sway away until the yard is up and down; then put on the upper lift in the top and the lower lift on deck, and reeve the braces. sway away, cast off the stops, and take in upon the lower lift as the yard rises, till the yard is square; then haul taut lifts and braces and pass the parral. to send up a topgallant mast.--most merchantmen carry _long topgallant masts_. in these, the topgallant, royal and skysail masts are all one stick. _a short topgallant mast_ is one which has cross-trees, and above which a fidded royal-mast may be rigged. _a stump topgallant mast_ has no cross-trees, or means for setting a mast above it, and is carried only in bad weather. some short topgallant masts are rigged with a _withe_ on the after part of the mast-head, through which a sliding-gunter royal-mast is run up, with its heel resting in a step on the topmast cap. to send up a long topgallant mast, put the jack over the topmast cap, with a grommet upon its funnel for the eyes of the rigging to rest upon; send up the rigging by girtlines, and put the eyes over the jack, first the topgallant shrouds, backstays and stays, then the royal rigging in the same order, with a grommet, then the skysail stay and backstay, and lastly the truck. reeve a top-rope forward through a block at the topmast-head, through the hole in the cross-trees; through the sheave-hole at the foot of the topgallant mast; carry it up the other side, and make it fast to its own part at the mast-head; stop it along the mast, and bend a guy to the heel. sway away, and point through the jack; put on the truck, and the skysail, royal and topgallant rigging in their order; slue the mast so as to bring the sheaves of the tyes fore-and-aft; cast off the end of the top-rope, the mast hanging by the stops; make it fast to an eye-bolt on the starboard side of the cap, and sway away. when high enough, fid the mast and set up the rigging. a short topgallant mast is sent up like a topmast, the cross-trees got over in the same manner; and the fidded royal-mast is sent up like a long topgallant mast. to rig out a flying jib-boom.--ship the withe on the jib-boom end, reeve a heel-rope through a block at the jib-boom end, and bend it to the heel of the flying jib-boom, and stop it along, out to the end. haul out on the heel-rope, point through the withe, put on the rigging, in the same order with that of the jib-boom; reeve the guys, martingale, flying jib, royal and skysail stays; rig out, and set up the rigging. the heel of the boom rests against the bowsprit cap, and is lashed to the jib-boom. the flying jib-boom should be rigged fully out before the fore topgallant mast is swayed on end. to cross a topgallant yard.--seize on the parral and quarter-blocks; reeve the yard-rope through the sheave-hole of the topgallant mast, make it fast to the slings of the yard, and stop it out to the upper end. sway away, and when the upper yard-arm has reached the topmast-head, put on the upper lift and brace; sway away again, put on the lower lift and brace, cast off all the stops, settle the yard down square by lifts and braces, and pass the parral lashing. to cross royal yards.--the royal yards are crossed in the same manner as the topgallant yards, except that in most merchantmen they would be sent up by the halyards instead of a yard-rope. if there is not a standing skysail, the quarter-blocks on the royal yard will be single. skysail yards.--if the skysail is a standing sail, the yard is rigged like the royal yard, with lifts and braces, and the sail is fitted with sheets and clewlines; but if it is a flying skysail, the yard has neither lifts nor braces, and the clews of the sail are seized out to the royal yard-arms. there are various ways of rigging a flying skysail, of which the following is believed to be as convenient as any. let the royal stay go round the mast-head, with a traveller, above the yard, so that the stay may travel up and down the skysail mast. seize a thimble into the stay, close against the forward part of the grommet; lead the skysail halyards through the thimble, and make them fast to the centre of the yard, which will need no parral, underneath the royal stay. make fast the ends of two small ropes for downhauls, to the skysail yard, about half way out on each yard-arm, and reeve them through small cleats on the after part of the royal yard, the same distance out on each yard-arm. these may be spliced into a single rope below the yard, which will go through a fair-leader in the cross-trees to the deck. by this means the skysail may be taken in or set without the necessity of sending a man aloft. let go the halyards and haul on the downhaul, and the yard will be brought close down to the royal yard. to hoist it, let go the downhaul and royal stay, and haul on the halyards. when the royal is taken in, haul the skysail yard down with the royal yard, and furl the sail in with the royal. chapter v. to send down masts and yards. to send down a royal yard--a topgallant yard--a topgallant mast. to house a topgallant mast. to send down a topmast. to rig in a jib boom. to send down a royal yard.--if the sail is bent to the yard, furl it, making the gaskets fast to the tye. cast off the sheets and clewlines, and make them fast to the jack. be careful to unreeve the clewlines through the quarter-blocks. cast off the parral-lashing. overhaul the tye a little, and stop it to the yard, just outside of the quarter-block. if stopped too far out, the yard will not hoist high enough to get the lower lift off. sway away on the halyards, which will cant the yard and hoist it. when high enough, cast off the lower lift and brace, (being careful not to let the brace go,) and make them fast to the jack. lower away, and as the upper yard-arm comes abreast of the jack, clap a stop round the yard and tye, near the yard-arm, and cast off the lift and brace, making them fast to the jack. lower away to the deck. if the halyards are not single, the yard must be sent down by a yard-rope, like the topgallant yard. in some vessels, instead of making the sheets and clewlines fast to the jack, overhand knots are taken in their ends, and they are let go. the sheets will run out to the topgallant yard-arms, and the clewlines will run to the fair-leaders in the cross-trees. in port, the main royal yard is sent down on the starboard side, and the fore and mizzen on the larboard; but at sea, the tye is stopped out on the lee side, and the yard sent down in any way that is the most convenient. to send down a topgallant yard.--cast off the sheets, bowlines, buntlines and clewlines, and make them fast to the cross-trees. reeve a yard-rope through a jack-block at the mast-head, unhook the tye, cast off the parral-lashing, bend the yard-rope to the slings of the yard by a fisherman's bend, and stop it to the quarters of the yard. sway away, and take off the lifts and braces, as with the royal yard. to send down a topgallant mast.--hook the top-block to the eye-bolt at the larboard side of the topmast cap; reeve the mast-rope through it, then through the sheave-hole in the foot of the topgallant mast, and hitch its end to the eye-bolt on the starboard side of the cap. come up the rigging, stays and backstays, and guy the mast-head by them. hoist a little on the mast-rope, and take out the fid. (the fid should always be fastened to the cross-trees or trestle-trees, by a lanyard.) lower away until the mast is a little short of being through the cap. then seize or rack together both parts of the mast-rope just above the sheave-hole; cast off the end of the mast-rope, letting the mast hang by the stops, and hitch it round the mast-head to its own part, below the cap. then lower away to the deck. if the rigging is to come on deck, round up the mast-rope for a girtline; if it is to remain aloft, lash it to the topmast cap, render the shrouds through the cross-trees, and stop them up and down the topgallant rigging. sheep-shank the stays and backstays, and set them hand-taut. if the top-mast is also to be sent down, take off the topmast cap and send it on deck. to house a topgallant mast.--proceed in the same manner, except that when the mast is low enough, belay the mast-rope, pass a heel-lashing through the fid-hole and round the topmast. to send down a topmast.--hook the top-block, reeve the mast-rope through it and through the sheave-hole in the foot of the mast, and hitch it to the staple at the other side of the cap. lead the fall through a snatch-block, to the capstan. sling the lower yard, if it is to remain aloft, and unshackle the trusses, if they are of iron. come up the rigging, stays and backstays, weigh the mast, take out the fid, and lower away. if the rigging is to remain aloft, lash the cross-trees to the lower cap. the rigging should be stowed away snugly in the top, and the backstays be snaked up and down the lower rigging. to rig in a jib-boom.--reeve the heel-rope (if necessary,) come up the stay, martingale stay and guys; unreeve the jib-stay, station hands at each guy, clear away the heel-lashing, haul in upon the guys, and light the boom on board. in most cases the boom will come in without a heel-rope. make fast the eyes of the rigging to the bowsprit cap, and haul all taut. chapter vi. bending and unbending sails. to bend a course. to send up a topsail by the halyards--by the bunt-lines. to bend a topgallant sail--a royal--a jib--a spanker--a spencer. to unbend a course--a topsail--a topgallant sail or royal--a jib. to send down a topsail or course in a gale of wind. to bend a topsail in a gale of wind. to bend one topsail or course, and send down the other at the same time. to bend a course.--stretch the sail across the deck, forward of the mast and under the yard; being careful to have the after part of the sail aft. seize the clew-garnet blocks to the clews; also the tack and sheet blocks, unless they go with hooks or clasps. reeve the buntlines through the thimbles of the first reef-band forward, if they are made to go so, and toggle their ends to the foot of the sail, or carry them through the eyelet-holes and clinch them to their own parts. reeve the clew-garnets and leechlines; carry the bights of the buntlines under the sail, and rack them to their own parts; stop the head of the sail to the buntlines below the rackings; put robands to each eyelet-hole in the head of the sail; fasten the head and reef earings to their cringles, reeving the end of the reef-earings through the head-cringle and taking a bowline with them to their standing parts, and hitching the head-earings to the buntlines. sway away on the buntlines, leechlines and clew-garnets; when the sail is up, pass the head-earings, reeving _aft_ through the straps on the yard, and _forward_ through the head cringle. haul out on the earings, making the sail square by the glut, and pass the earings round the yard, over and under, through the head-cringle at each turn, and make the end fast around the first turns. if the sail is new, ride down the head rope on the yard, and freshen the earings. make fast the head of the sail to the jack-stay by robands, and cast the stops off the buntlines. to bend a topsail.--make fast the head and reef-earings to their cringles, passing the end of each reef-earing through the cringle above its own and making it fast by a bowline to its own part. put robands to each eyelet-hole in the head. if the sail is to be sent up by the topsail halyards, lay it on deck abaft the foot of the mast, make it up with its head and foot together, having the head and first reef cringles together and out, and also the bowline cringle and the clews out. bight the sail in three parts on a pair of slings, having the end of the sail that belongs on the opposite yard-arm on top. have the fly-block of the topsail halyards above the top, and rack the runner to the topmast backstay or after shroud. hook the lower block to the slings around the sail, hoist the sail up into the top, cast off the slings, unhook the halyards, and pass the upper end of the sail round forward of the mast, ready for bending. (if the vessel is rolling or pitching, with a stiff breeze, the sail may be guyed and steadied as it goes up, by hooking a snatch-block, moused, to the slings around the sail, passing the hauling part of the halyards through it, and through another snatch-block on deck.) get the clewlines, buntlines, sheets, bowlines, and reef-tackles ready for bending, the clove hooks of the sheets being stopped to the topmast rigging. hook or clasp the sheets to the clews, reeve the clewlines and reef-tackles, toggle the bowlines, clinch or toggle the buntlines to the foot of the sail, and stop the head to the buntlines. hoist on the buntlines and haul out on the reef-tackles, bringing the sail to the yard, and then pass the head-earings and make fast the robands as for a course. if the sail is to be sent up by the buntlines, lay the sail on the deck and forward of the mast, overhaul the buntlines down forward of the yard, on each side of the topmast stay and on the same side of the lower stay. clinch the ends to the foot of the sail, bight them around under the sail and rack the bights to their standing parts, and stop the head of the sail to the standing parts below the rackings. bend one bowline to the centre of the sail, to guy it in going aloft. have the earings bent and secured as before described, and the bights of the head-earings hitched to the buntlines. sway it up to the top, and haul the ends in on each side of the mast; reeve the clewlines and reef-tackles, make fast the bowlines and sheets, the ends of which, if chain, should be racked to the topmast rigging, ready to be made fast to the clews. the gear being bent, hoist on the buntlines, haul out on the reef-tackles, pass the head-earings, cut the stops of the buntlines, and make fast the robands. middle the sail on the yard by the glut, or by the centre cringle. to bend topgallant sails and royals.--these are generally bent to their yards on deck; the royals always. after being bent to the yard, they are furled, with their clews out, ready for sending aloft. if the topgallant sail is to be bent aloft, send it up to the topmast cross-trees by the clewlines, or by the royal halyards; and there bend on the sheets, clewlines, buntlines and bowlines, and bring the sail to the yard as with a topsail. to bend a jib.--bend the jib halyards round the body of the sail, and the downhaul to the tack. haul out on the downhaul, hoisting and lowering on the halyards. seize the tack to the boom, the hanks to the luff of the sail, and the halyards to its head. reeve the downhaul up through the hanks and make it fast to the head of the sail. seize the middle of the sheet-pennant to the clew. in some vessels the hanks are first seized to the sail, and the jib-stay unrove, brought in-board, and passed down through the hanks, as the sail is sent out, rove in its place and set up. this is more troublesome, and wears out the jib-stay. to bend a spanker.--lower the gaff, and reeve the throat-rope through the hole in the gaff under the jaws, and secure it. sometimes the head of the luff fits with a hook. then haul out the head of the sail by the peak-earing, which is passed like the head-earing of a topsail. when the head-rope is taut, pass the lacings through the eyelet-holes, and round the jack-stay. seize the bights of the throat and peak brails to the leech, at distances from the peak which will admit of the sail's being brailed up taut along the gaff, and reeve them through their blocks on the gaff, and at the jaws, on each side of the sail. the foot brail is seized to the leech just above the clew. seize the luff of the sail to the hoops or hanks around the spanker mast, beginning with the upper hoop and hoisting the gaff as they are secured. the tack is hooked or seized to the boom or to the mast. hook on the outhaul tackle. this is usually fitted with an eye round the boom, rove through a single block at the clew, and then through a sheave-hole in the boom. some spankers are bent with a peak outhaul; the head traversing on the jack-stay of the gaff. the fore and main spencers are bent like the spanker, except that they have no boom, the clew being hauled aft by a sheet, which is generally a gun-tackle purchase, hooked to an eye-bolt in the deck. to unbend a course.--haul it up, cast off the robands, and make the buntlines fast round the sail. ease the earings off together, and lower away by the buntlines and clew-garnets. at sea, the lee earing is cast off first, rousing in the lee body of the sail, and securing it by the earing to the buntlines. to unbend a topsail.--clew it up, cast off the robands, secure the buntlines round the sail, unhook the sheets, and unreeve the clewlines and reef-tackles; ease off the earings, and lower by the buntlines. a _top gallant sail_ is unbent in the same manner, and sent down by the buntlines. a _royal_ is usually sent down with the yard. to unbend a jib.--haul it down, cast off the hank seizings and the tack-lashing, cast off and unreeve the downhaul and make it fast round the sail, and cast off the sheet-pennant lashings. haul aboard by the downhaul, hoisting clear by the halyards. the rules above given are for a vessel in port, with squared yards. if you are at sea and it is blowing fresh, and the topsail or course is reefed, to send it down, you must cast off a few robands and reef-points, and pass good stops around the sail; then secure the buntlines also around it, and cast off all the robands, reef-points and reef-earings. bend a line to the lee head-earing and let it go, haul the sail well up to windward, and make fast the lee earing to the buntlines. get a hauling line to the deck, forward; ease off the weather earing, and lower away. to bend a new topsail in a gale of wind, it has been found convenient to make the sail up with the reef-bands together, the points all being out fair, to pass several good stops round the sail, and send up as before. this will present less surface to the wind. one course may be sent up as the other goes down, by unbending the buntlines from the foot of the old sail, passing them down between the head of the sail and the yard, bending them to the foot of the new sail, and making the new sail up to be sent aloft by them, as before directed. run the new sail up to the yard abaft the old one, and send the old one down by the leechlines and the head-earings, bent to the topmast studdingsail halyards, or some other convenient rope. one topsail may be sent up by the topsail halyards, got ready for bending, and brought to the yard, while the old one is sent down by the buntlines. [illustration: plate v.] chapter vii. work upon rigging.--rope, knots, splices, bends and hitches. kinds of rope. spunyarn. worming. parcelling. service. short splice. long splice. eye splice. flemish eye. spindle eye. cut splice. grommet. single and double wall. matthew walker. single and double diamond. spritsail sheet knot. stopper knot. shroud knot. french shroud knot. buoy-rope knot. half-hitches. clove hitch. overhand knot. figure-of-eight. bowline. running bowline. bowline-upon-a-bight. square knot. timber hitch. rolling hitch. blackwall hitch. cat's paw. sheet bend. fisherman's bend. carrick bend. bowline bend. sheep-shank. selvagee. marlin-spike hitch. round seizing. throat seizing. stopping. nippering. racking. pointing. snaking. grafting. foxes. spanish foxes. gaskets. sennit. to bend a buoy-rope. to pass a shear-lashing. those ropes in a ship which are stationary are called _standing rigging_, as shrouds, stays, backstays, &c. those which reeve through blocks or sheave-holes, and are hauled and let go, are called the _running rigging_, as braces, halyards, buntlines, clewlines, &c. a rope is composed of threads of hemp, or other stuff. these threads are called _yarns_. a number of these yarns twisted together form a _strand_, and three or more strands twisted together form the rope. the ropes in ordinary use on board a vessel are composed of three strands, laid right handed, (1.) or, as it is called, _with the sun_. occasionally a piece of large rope will be found laid up in four strands, also _with_ the sun. this is generally used for standing rigging, tacks, sheets, &c., and is sometimes called _shroud-laid_. a cable-laid rope (2.) is composed of nine strands, and is made by first laying them into three ropes of three strands each, _with_ the sun, and then laying the three ropes up together into one, left-handed, or _against_ the sun. thus, cable-laid rope is like three small common ropes laid up into one large one. formerly, the ordinary three-stranded right-hand rope was called _hawser-laid_, and the latter _cable-laid_, and they will be found so distinguished in the books; but among sea-faring men now, the terms _hawser-laid_ and _cable-laid_ are applied indiscriminately to nine-strand rope, and the three stranded, being the usual and ordinary kind of rope, has no particular name, or is called right-hand rope. right-hand rope must be coiled _with_ the sun, and cable-laid rope _against_ the sun. spunyarn is made by twisting together two or more yarns taken from old standing rigging, and is called two-yarn or three-yarn spunyarn, according to the number of yarns of which it is composed. junk, or old rigging, is first unlaid into strands, and then into yarns, and the best of these yarns made up into spunyarn, which is used for worming, serving, seizing, &c. every merchant vessel carries a spunyarn-winch, for the manufacturing of this stuff, and in making it, the wheel is turned _against_ the sun, which lays the stuff up with the sun. worming a rope, is filling up the divisions between the strands, by passing spunyarn along them, to render the surface smooth for parcelling and serving. parcelling a rope is wrapping narrow strips of canvass about it, well tarred, in order to secure it from being injured by rain-water lodging between the parts of the service when worn. the parcelling is put on _with_ the lay of the rope. service is the laying on of spunyarn, or other small stuff, in turns round the rope, close together, and hove taut by the use of a serving-board for small rope, and serving-mallet for large rope. small ropes are sometimes served without being wormed, as the crevices between the strands are not large enough to make the surface very uneven; but a large rope is always wormed and parcelled before being served. the service is put on _against_ the lay of the rope. splicing, is putting the ends of ropes together by opening the strands and placing them into one another, or by putting the strands of the ends of a rope between those of the bight. a short splice. (3.) unlay the strands for a convenient length; then take an end in each hand, place them one within the other, and draw them close. hold the end of one rope and the three strands which come from the opposite rope fast in the left hand, or, if the rope be large, stop them down to it with a rope-yarn. take the middle strand, which is free, pass it _over_ the strand which is first next to it, and through _under_ the second, and out between the second and third from it, and haul it taut. pass each of the six strands in the same manner; first those on one side, and then those on the other. the same operation may be repeated with each strand, passing each _over_ the third from it, and _under_ the fourth, and through; or, as is more usual, after the ends have been stuck once, untwist each strand, divide the yarns, pass one half as above described, and cut off the other half. this tapers the splice. a long splice. (4.) unlay the ends of two ropes to a distance three or four times greater than for a short splice, and place them within one another as for a short splice. unlay one strand for a considerable distance, and fill up the interval which it leaves with the opposite strand from the other rope, and twist the ends of these two together. then do the same with two more strands. the two remaining strands are twisted together in the place where they were first crossed. open the two last named strands, divide in two, take an overhand knot with the opposite halves, and lead the ends over the next strand and through the second, as the whole strands were passed for the short splice. cut off the other two halves. do the same with the others that are placed together, dividing, knotting, and passing them in the same manner. before cutting off any of the half strands, the rope should be got well upon a stretch. sometimes the whole strands are knotted then divided, and the half strands passed as above described. an eye splice. (5.) unlay the end of a rope for a short distance, and lay the three strands upon the standing part, so as to form an eye. put one end through the strand next to it. put the next end over that strand and through the second; and put the remaining end through the third strand, on the other side of the rope. taper them, as in the short splice, by dividing the strands and sticking them again. a flemish eye. (6.) take the end of a rope and unlay one strand. form an eye by placing the two remaining ends against the standing part. pass the strand which has been unlaid over the end and in the intervals round the eye, until it returns down the standing part, and lies under the eye with the strands. the ends are then scraped down, tapered, marled, and served over with spunyarn. an artificial or spindle eye.--unlay the end of a rope and open the strands, separating each rope yarn. take a piece of wood, the size of the intended eye, and hitch the yarns round it. scrape them down, marl, parcel, and serve them. this is now usually called a flemish eye. a cut splice. (7.) cut a rope in two, unlay each end as for a short splice, and place the ends of each rope against the standing part of the other, forming an oblong eye, of the size you wish. then pass the ends through the strands of the standing parts, as for a short splice. a grommet. (8.) take a strand just unlaid from a rope, with all its turns in it, and form a ring of the size you wish, by putting the end over the standing part. then take the long end and carry it twice round the ring, in the crevices, following the lay, until the ring is complete. then take an overhand knot with the two ends, divide the yarns, and stick them as in a long splice. a single wall knot. (9.) unlay the end of a rope. form a bight with one strand, holding its end down to the standing part in your left hand. pass the end of the next strand round this strand. pass the remaining strand round the end of the second strand, and up through the bight which was made by the first strand. haul the ends taut carefully, one by one. a single wall, crowned. (10.) make the single wall as before, and lay one end over the top of the knot. lay the second end over the first, and the third over the second and through the bight of the first. a double wall. (11.) make the single wall slack, and crown it, as above. then take one end, bring it underneath the part of the first walling next to it, and push it up through the same bight. do the same with the other strands, pushing them up through two bights. thus made, it has a double wall and a single crown. a double wall, double crowned. (12.) make the double wall, single crowned, as above. then lay the strands by the sides of those in the single crown, pushing them through the same bight in the single crown, and down through the double walling. this is sometimes called a tack knot, or a topsail sheet knot. a matthew walker knot. (13.) unlay the end of a rope. take one strand round the rope and through its own bight; then the next strand underneath, through the bight of the first, and through its own bight; and the third strand underneath, through both the other bights, and through its own bight. a single diamond knot. (14.) unlay the end of a rope for a considerable distance, and with the strands form three bights down the side of the rope, holding them fast with the left hand. take the end of one strand and pass it with the lay of the rope over the strand next to it, and up through the bight of the third. take the end of the second strand over the third and up through the bight of the first. take the end of the third strand over the first and up through the bight of the second. haul taut, and lay the ends up together. a double diamond knot. (15.) make a single diamond, as above, without laying the ends up. follow the lead of the single knot through two single bights, the ends coming out at the top of the knot. lead the last strand through two double bights. haul taut, and lay the ends up. a spritsail sheet knot. (16.) unlay two ends of a rope, and place the two parts together. make a bight with one strand. wall the six strands together, like a single walling made with three strands; putting the second over the first, and the third over the second, and so on, the sixth being passed over the fifth and through the bight of the first. then haul taut. it may be _crowned_ by taking two strands and laying them over the top of the knot, and passing the other strands alternately over and under those two, hauling them taut. it may be _double walled_ by next passing the strands under the wallings on the left of them, and through the small bights, when the ends will come up for the second crowning; which is done by following the lead of the single crowning, and pushing the ends through the single walling, as with three strands, before described. this is often used for a _stopper knot_. a stopper knot.--single wall and double wall, without crowning, and stop the ends together. a shroud knot.--unlay the ends of two ropes, and place the strands in one another, as for a short splice. single wall the strands of one rope round the standing part of the other, against the lay. open the ends, taper, marl, and serve them. a french shroud knot.--place the ends of two ropes as before. lay the ends of one rope back upon their own part, and single wall the other three strands round the bights of the first three and the standing part. taper the ends, as before. a buoy-rope knot.--unlay the strands of a cable-laid rope, and also the small strands of each large strand. lay the large ones again as before, leaving the small ones out. single and double wall the small strands (as for a stopper knot) round the rope, worm them along the divisions, and stop their ends with spunyarn. a turks-head. (17.) this is worked upon a rope with a piece of small line. take a clove-hitch slack with the line round the rope. then take one of the bights formed by the clove-hitch and put it over the other. pass the end under, and up through the bight which is underneath. then cross the bights again, and put the end round again, under, and up through the bight which is underneath. after this, follow the lead, and it will make a turban, of three parts to each cross. two half-hitches. (18.) pass the end of a rope round the standing part and bring it up through the bight. this is a half-hitch. take it round again in the same manner for two half-hitches. a clove-hitch (19.) is made by passing the end of a rope round a spar, over, and bringing it under and round behind its standing part, over the spar again, and up through its own part. it may then, if necessary, be stopped or hitched to its own part: the only difference between two half-hitches and a clove-hitch being that one is hitched round its own standing part, and the other is hitched round a spar or another rope. an overhand knot. (20.) pass the end of a rope over the standing part, and through the bight. a figure-of-eight. (21.) pass the end of a rope over and round the standing part, up over its own part, and down through the bight. a bowline knot. (22.) take the end of a rope in your right hand, and the standing part in your left. lay the end over the standing part, and with the left hand make a bight of the standing part over it. take the end under the lower standing part, up over the cross, and down through the bight. a running bowline.--take the end round the standing part, and make a bowline upon its own part. a bowline upon a bight. (23.) middle a rope, taking the two ends in your left hand, and the bight in your right. lay the bight over the ends, and proceed as in making a bowline, making a small bight with your left hand of the ends, which are kept together, over the bight which you hold in your right hand. pass the bight in your right hand round under the ends and up over the cross. so far, it is like a common bowline, only made with double rope instead of single. then open the bight in your right hand and carry it over the large bights, letting them go through it, and bring it up to the cross and haul taut. a square knot. (24.) take an overhand knot round a spar. take an end in each hand and cross them on the same side of the standing part upon which they came up. pass one end round the other, and bring it up through the bight. this is sometimes called a reef-knot. if the ends are crossed the wrong way, sailors call it a granny-knot. a timber hitch. (25.) take the end of a rope round a spar, lead it under and over the standing part, and pass two or more round-turns round its own part. a rolling hitch.--pass the end of a rope round a spar. take it round a second time, nearer to the standing part. then carry it across the standing part, over and round the spar, and up through the bight. a strap or a tail-block is fastened to a rope by this hitch. a bend, sometimes called a _rolling hitch_, is made by two round-turns round a spar and two half-hitches round the standing part; but the name is commonly applied to the former hitch. a blackwall hitch. (26.) form a bight by putting the end of a rope across and under the standing part. put the bight over the hook of a tackle, letting the hook go through it, the centre of the bight resting against the back of the hook, and the end jammed in the bight of the hook, by the standing part of the rope. a cat's paw. (27.) make a large bight in a rope, and spread it open, putting one hand at one part of the bight and the other at the other, and letting the standing part and end come together. turn the bight over from you, three times, and a small bight will be formed in each hand. bring the two small bights together, and put the hook of a tackle through them both. a sheet bend. (28.) pass the end of a rope up through the bight of another, round both parts of the other, and under its own part. a fisherman's bend. (29.) used for bending studdingsail halyards to the yard. take two turns round the yard with the end. hitch it round the standing part and both the turns. then hitch it round the standing part alone. a carrick bend. (30.) form a bight by putting the end of a rope over its standing part. take the end of a second rope and pass it _under_ the standing part of the first, _over_ the end, and _up_ through the bight, _over_ its own standing part, and _down_ through the bight again. a bowline bend.--this is the most usual mode of bending warps, and other long ropes or cables, together. take a bowline in the end of one rope, pass the end of the other through the bight, and take a bowline with it upon its own standing part. long lines are sometimes bent together with half-hitches on their own standing parts, instead of bowlines, and the ends seized strongly down. a sheep-shank. (31.) make two long bights in a rope, which shall overlay one another. take a half-hitch over the end of each bight with the standing part which is next to it. a selvagee.--lay rope yarns round and round in a bight, and marl them down with spunyarn. these are used for neat block-straps, and as straps to go round a spar for a tackle to hook into, for hoisting. a marlinspike hitch--lay the marlinspike upon the seizing-stuff, and bring the end over the standing part so as to form a bight. lay this bight back over the standing part, putting the marlinspike down through the bight, under the standing part, and up through the bight again. to pass a round seizing.--splice a small eye in the end of the stuff, take the other end round both parts of the rope, and reeve it through the eye. pass a couple of turns, then take a marlinspike-hitch, and heave them taut. pass six, eight or ten turns in the same manner, and heave them taut. put the end through under these turns and bring it out between the two last turns, or through the eye, and pass five, seven or nine turns (one less than the lower ones) directly over these, as riders. the riders are not hove so taut. pass the end up through the seizings, and take two cross turns round the whole seizing between the two, passing the end through the last turn, and heaving taut. if the seizing is small cordage, take a wall-knot in the end; if spunyarn, an overhand knot. the cross turns are given up now in nearly all vessels. after the riding turns are passed, the end is carried under the turns, brought out at the other end, and made fast snugly to the standing part of the rigging. a throat seizing, where rigging is turned in, is passed and made fast like the preceding, there being no cross turns. a neat way to pass a throat seizing is to pass the turns rather slack, put a strap upon the end of the rigging, take a handspike or heaver to it and bear it down, driving home the seizing with a mallet and small fid. stopping, is fastening two parts of a rope together as for a round seizing, without a crossing. nippering, is fastening them by taking turns crosswise between the parts, to jam them; and sometimes with a round turn before each cross. these are called _racking turns_. pass _riders_ over these and fasten the end. pointing.--unlay the end of a rope and stop it. take out as many yarns as are necessary, and split each yarn in two, and take two parts of different yarns and twist them up taut into _nettles_. the rest of the yarns are combed down with a knife. lay half the nettles down upon the scraped part, the rest back upon the rope, and pass three turns of twine taut round the part where the nettles separate, and hitch the twine, which is called the _warp_. lay the nettles backwards and forwards as before, passing the warp, each time. the ends may be whipped and snaked with twine, or the nettles hitched over the warp and hauled taut. the upper seizing must be snaked. if the upper part is too weak for pointing, put in a piece of stick. snaking a seizing, is done by taking the end under and over the outer turns of the seizing alternately, passing over the whole. there should be a marline-hitch at each turn. grafting.--unlay the ends of two ropes and put them together as for a short splice. make nettles of the strands as before. pass the warp and nettles belonging to the lower strands along the rope, as in pointing; then the nettles of the upper strands in the same manner. snake the seizing at each end. foxes are made by twisting together three or more rope-yarns by hand, and rubbing them hard with tarred canvass. _spanish foxes_ are made of one rope-yarn, by unlaying it and laying it up the other way. gaskets.--take three or four foxes, middle them, and plait them together into _sennit_. this is done by bringing the two outside foxes alternately over to the middle. the outside ones are laid with the right hand, and the remainder are held and steadied with the left. having plaited enough for an eye, bring all the parts together, and work them all into one piece, in the same manner. take out foxes at proper intervals. when finished, one end must be laid up, the other plaited, and the first hauled through. the name _sennit_ is generally given to rope yarns plaited in the same manner with these foxes. sennit made in this way must have an odd number of parts. french sennit is made with an even number, taken over and under every other time. to bend a buoy-rope. reeve the end through the eye in the other end, put it over one arm of the anchor, and haul taut. take a hitch over the other arm. or, take a clove-hitch over the crown, stopping the end to its own part, or to the shank. to pass a shear-lashing.--middle the lashing and take a good turn round both legs, at the cross. pass one end up and the other down, around and over the cross, until half of the lashing is expended. then ride both ends back again on their own parts and knot them in the middle. frap the first and riding turns together on each side with sennit. chapter viii. blocks and purchases. parts of a block. made and morticed blocks. bull's-eye. dead-eye. sister-block. snatch-block. tail-block. whip. gun-tackle. luff-tackle. whip-upon-whip. luff-upon-luff. watch or tail-tackle. runner-tackle. blocks are of two kinds, _made_ and _morticed_. a _made block_ consists of four parts,--the _shell_, or outside; the _sheave_, or wheel on which the rope turns; the _pin_, or axle on which the wheel turns; and the _strap_, either of rope or iron, which encircles the whole, and keeps it in its place. the sheave is generally strengthened by letting in a piece of iron or brass at the centre, called a _bush_. a morticed block is made of a single block of wood, morticed out to receive a sheave. all blocks are single, double, or three-fold, according to the number of sheaves in them. there are some blocks that have no sheaves; as follows: a _bull's-eye_, which is a wooden thimble without a sheave, having a hole through the centre and a groove round it; and a _dead-eye_, which is a solid block of wood made in a circular form, with a groove round it, and three holes bored through it, for the lanyards to reeve through. a sister-block is formed of one solid piece of wood, with two sheaves, one above the other, and between the sheaves a score for the middle seizing. these are oftener without sheaves than with. snatch-blocks are single blocks, with a notch cut in one cheek, just below the sheave, so as to receive the bight of a fall, without the trouble of reeving and unreeving the whole. they are generally iron-bound, and have a hook at one end. a tail-block is a single block, strapped with an eye-splice, and having a long end left, by which to make the block fast temporarily to the rigging. this tail is usually selvageed, or else the strands are opened and laid up into sennit, as for a gasket. a tackle is a purchase formed by reeving a rope through two or more blocks, for the purpose of hoisting. a whip is the smallest purchase, and is made by a rope rove through one single block. a gun-tackle purchase is a rope rove through two single blocks and made fast to the strap of the upper block. the parts of all tackles between the fasts and a sheave, are called the _standing parts_; the parts between sheaves are called _running parts_; and the part upon which you take hold in hoisting is called the _fall_. a whip-upon-whip is where the block of one whip is made fast to the fall of another. a luff-tackle purchase is a single and a double block; the end of the rope being fast to the upper part of the single block, and the fall coming from the double block. a luff-tackle upon the fall of another luff-tackle is called _luff-upon-luff_. a watch-tackle or tail-tackle is a luff-tackle purchase, with a hook in the end of the single block, and a tail to the upper end of the double block. one of these purchases, with a short fall, is kept on deck, at hand, in merchant vessels, and is used to clap upon standing and running rigging, and to get a strain upon ropes. a runner-tackle is a luff applied to a runner, which is a single rope rove through a single block, hooked to a thimble in the eye of a pennant. a single burton is composed of two single blocks, with a hook in the bight of the running part. reeve the end of your rope through the upper block, and make it fast to the strap of the fly-block. then make fast your hook to the bight of the rope, and reeve the other end through the fly-block for a fall. the hook is made fast by passing the bight of the rope through the eye of the hook and over the whole. chapter ix. making and taking in sail. to loose a sail. to set a course--topsail--topgallant sail--royal--skysail--jib--spanker--spencer. to take in a course--topsail--topgallant sail or royal--skysail--jib--spanker. to furl a royal--topgallant sail--topsail--course--jib. to stow a jib in cloth. to reef a topsail--course. to turn out reefs. to set a topgallant studdingsail. to take in do. to set a topmast studdingsail. to take in do. to set a lower studdingsail. to take in do. to loose a sail.--lay out to the yard-arms and cast off the gaskets, beginning at the outermost and coming in.[2] when the gaskets are cast off from both yard-arms, then let go the bunt gasket, (and jigger, if there be one,) and overhaul the buntlines and leechlines. in loosing a topsail in a gale of wind, it is better to cast off the quarter-gaskets, (except the one which confines the clew,) before those at the yard-arms. royals and topgallant sails generally have one long gasket to each yard-arm; in which case it is not necessary to go out upon the yard, but the gaskets, after being cast off, should be fastened to the tye by a bowline. [2] if only one yard-arm is loosed at a time, let the lee one be loosed first. to set a course.--loose the sail and overhaul the buntlines and leechlines. let go the clew-garnets and overhaul them, and haul down on the sheets and tacks. if the ship is close-hauled, ease off the lee brace, slack the weather lift and clew-garnet, and get the tack well down to the water-ways. if it is blowing fresh and the ship light-handed, take it to the windlass. when the tack is well down, sharpen the yard up again by the brace, top it well up by the lift, reeve and haul out the bowline, and haul the sheet aft. if the wind is quartering, the mainsail is carried with the weather clew hauled up and the sheet taken aft. with yards squared, the mainsail is never carried, but the foresail may be to advantage, especially if the swinging booms are out; in which case the heavy tack and sheet-blocks may be unhooked, and the _lazy sheets_ hooked on and rove through a single tail-block, made fast out on the boom. this serves to extend the clews, and is called a _pazaree_ to the foresail. to set a topsail.--loose the sail, and keep one hand in the top to overhaul the rigging. overhaul well the buntlines, clewlines, and reef-tackles, let go the topgallant sheets and topsail braces, and haul home on the sheets. merchant vessels usually hoist a little on the halyards, so as to clear the sail from the top, then belay them and get the lee sheet chock home; then haul home the weather sheet, shivering the sail by the braces to help it home, and hoist on the halyards until the leeches are well taut, taking a turn with the braces, if the wind is fresh, and slacking them as the yard goes up. after the sail is set, it is sometimes necessary to get the sheets closer home. slack the halyards, lee brace, and weather bowline, clap the watch-tackle upon the lee sheet first, and then the weather one, shivering the sail by the braces if necessary. overhaul the clewlines and reef-tackles, slack the topgallant sheets, and hoist the sail up, taut leech, by the halyards. to set a topgallant sail or royal.--haul home the lee sheet, having one hand aloft to overhaul the clewlines, then the weather sheet, and hoist up, taut leech, by the halyards. while hauling the sheets home, if on the wind, brace up a little to shake the sail, take a turn with the weather brace, and let go the lee one; if before the wind, let go both braces; and if the wind is quartering, the lee one. to set a flying skysail.--if bent in the manner described in this book, let go the brails and royal stay, and hoist on the halyards. to set a jib, flying-jib, or fore topmast staysail.--cast off the gasket, hoist on the halyards, and trim down the sheet. to set a spanker.--hoist on the topping-lifts, make fast the weather one, and overhaul the lee one. let go the brails, and haul out on the outhaul. be careful not to let the throat brail go before the head and foot. trim the boom by the sheets and guys, and the gaff by the vangs. to set a spencer.--take the sheet to the deck on the lee side of the stay, let go the brails, haul on the sheet, and trim the gaff by the vangs. to take in a course.--if the wind is light and there are hands enough, let go the tack, sheet, and bowline, and haul up on the clew-garnets, buntlines, and leechlines, being careful not to haul the buntlines taut until the clews are well up. if light-handed, or the wind fresh, let go the bowline and ease off the tack, (being careful to let the bowline go before the tack,) and haul up the weather clew. then ease off the sheet and haul up on the lee clew-garnet, and the buntlines and leechlines. to take in a topsail.--the usual mode of taking in a topsail when coming to anchor in light winds, is to lower away on the halyards and haul down on the clewlines and reef-tackles, (if the latter run in the way described in this book,) until the yard is down by the lifts, rounding in on the weather brace, and hauling taut to leeward, when the yard is square. then let go the sheets and haul up on the clewlines and buntlines. a better way is to start the sheets, clew about one third up, then let go the halyards and take the slack in. if the wind is fresh, and the yard braced up, lower away handsomely on the halyards, get the yard down by the clewlines and reef-tackles, rounding in on the weather brace, and steadying the yard by both braces. then let go the weather sheet and haul up to windward first. the weather clew being up, let go the lee sheet and haul up by the clewline and buntlines, keeping the clew in advance of the body of the sail. sometimes, if the weather brace cannot be well rounded in, as if a ship is weak-handed, the sail may be clewed up to leeward a little, first. in which case, ease off the lee sheet, and haul up on the clewline; ease off the lee brace and round the yard in; and when the lee clew is about half up, ease off the weather sheet and haul the weather clew chock up. haul the buntlines up after the weather clew, and steady the yard by the braces. there is danger in clewing up to leeward first that the sail may be shaken and jerked so as to split, before the weather clew is up; whereas, if clewed up to windward first, the lee clew will keep full, until the lee sheet is started. when coming to anchor, it is the best plan to haul the clews about half up before the halyards are let go. in taking in a close-reefed topsail in a gale of wind, the most general practice is to clew up to windward, keeping the sail full; then lower away the halyards, and ease off the lee sheet; clew the yard down, and haul up briskly on the lee clewline and the buntlines, bracing to the wind the moment the lee sheet is started. to take in a topgallant sail or royal.--if the wind is light, and from aft or quartering, let go the halyards and clew down, squaring the yard by the braces. then start the sheets and clew up, and haul up the buntlines. if the yard is braced up, the old style was to let go the halyards, clew down and round in on the weather brace; clewing up to windward first, then start the lee clew, and haul up the lee clewline and the buntlines. but the practice now is to clew up to leeward first, which prevents the slack of the sail getting too much over to leeward, or foul of the clewline block under the yard, as it is apt to, if the weather clew is hauled up first. if the wind is very fresh, and the vessel close-hauled, a good practice is to let go the lee sheet and halyards, and clew down, rounding in at the same time on the weather brace. then start the weather sheet, and haul the weather clew chock up. haul up the buntlines and steady the yard by the braces. to take in a skysail.--if bent in the way described in this book, which is believed to be the most convenient, let go the halyards, haul down on the brails, and haul taut the royal stay. to take in a jib.--let go the halyards, haul on the downhaul, easing off the sheet as the halyards are let go. to take in a spanker.--ease off the outhaul, and haul well up on the lee brails, taking in the slack of the weather ones. mind particularly the lee throat-brail. haul the boom amidships and steady it by the guys, lower the topping lifts, and square the gaff by the vangs. to furl a royal.--this sail is usually furled by one person, and is that upon which green hands are practised. for the benefit of beginners, i will give particular directions. when you have got aloft to the topgallant mast-head, see, in the first place, that the yard is well down by the lifts, and steadied by the braces; then see that both clews are hauled chock up to the blocks, and if they are not, call out to the officer of the deck, and have it done. then see your yard-arm gaskets clear. the best way is to cast them off from the tye, and lay them across, between the tye and the mast. this done, stretch out on the weather yard-arm, get hold of the weather leech, and bring it in to the slings taut along the yard. hold the clew up with one hand, and with the other haul all the sail through the clew, letting it fall in the bunt. bring the weather clew a little over abaft the yard, and put your knee upon it. then stretch out to leeward and bring in the lee leech in the same manner, hauling all the sail through the clew, and putting the clew upon the yard in the same way, and holding it there by your other knee. then prepare to make up your bunt. first get hold of the foot-rope and lay it on the yard and abaft; then take up the body of the sail, and lay it on the yard, seeing that it is all fairly through the clews. having got all the sail upon the yard, make a _skin_ of the upper part of the body of the sail, large enough to come well down abaft and cover the whole bunt when the sail is furled. lift the skin up, and put into the bunt the slack of the clews (not too taut,) the leech and foot-rope, and the body of the sail; being careful not to let it get forward under the yard or hang down abaft. then haul your bunt well upon the yard, smoothing the skin, and bringing it down well abaft, and make fast the bunt-gasket round the mast, and the jigger, if there be one, to the tye. the glut will always come in the middle of the bunt, if it is properly made up. now take your weather yard-arm gasket and pass it round the yard, three or four times, haul taut, and make it fast to the mast; then the lee one in the same manner. never make a long gasket fast to its own part round the yard, for it may work loose and slip out to the yard-arm. always pass a gasket _over_ the yard and down abaft, which will help to bring the sail upon the yard. a topgallant sail is furled in the same manner, except that it usually requires two men, in a large vessel; in which case, each man takes a yard-arm, and they make the bunt up together. if there are buntlines and a jigger, the bunt may be triced well up, by bending the jigger to the bight of a buntline, and having it hauled taut on deck. to furl a topsail or course.--the sail being hauled up, lay out on the yard, the two most experienced men standing in the slings, one on each side of the mast, to make the bunt up. the light hands lay out to the yard-arms, and take the leech up and bring it taut along the yard. in this way the clews are reached and handed to the men in the bunt, and the slack of the sail hauled through them and stowed away on and abaft the yard. the bunt being made up fairly on the yard against the mast, and the skin prepared, let it fall a little forward, and stow all the body of the sail, the clews, bolt-rope, and blocks, away in it; then, as many as can get hold, lend a hand to haul it well upon the yard. overhaul a buntline a little, bend the jigger to it, and trice up on deck. bring the skin down well abaft, see that the clews are not too taut, pass the bunt gasket, cast the jigger off, and make it fast slack to the tye. then pass the yard-arm gaskets, hauling the sail well upon the yard, and passing the turns over the yard, and down abaft. if the sail has long gaskets, make them fast to the tye; if short, pass them in turns close together, and make them fast to their own parts, jammed as well as possible. to furl a jib.--go out upon the weather side of the boom. see your gasket clear for passing. the handiest way usually is, to make it up on its end, take a hitch over the whole with the standing part, and let it hang. haul the sail well upon the boom, getting the clew, and having the sheet pennant hauled amidships. cast the hitch off the gasket, take it in your hand, and pass two or three turns, beginning at the head; haul them taut; and so on to the clew. pass the turns over and to windward. this will help to bring the sail upon the boom and to windward. make the end fast to the stay, to the withe, or to the boom inside the cap, in any way that shall keep it from slipping back, which it might do if made fast to its own part round the boom. if there is but one hand on the boom, the first turns may be hauled taut enough to keep the sail up for the time; then, after the gasket is fast, go out to the head, and haul each turn well taut, beating the sail down with the hand. be careful to confine the clew well. to stow a jib in cloth.--haul the jib down snugly, and get it fairly up on the boom. overhaul the after leech until you come to the first straight cloth. gather this cloth over the rest of the sail on the boom, stopping the outer end of the cloth with a rope-yarn round the jib stay. if the jib halyards are double, stop the block inside the sail. cover the sail well up with the cloth, stopping it at every two feet with rope-yarns round the sail and boom. if you are to lie in port for a long time, cast off the pennant, stow the clew on the boom, snugly under the cloth, which will be stopped as before with rope-yarns. to reef a topsail.--round in on the weather brace, ease off the halyards, and clew the yard down by the clewlines and reef-tackles. brace the yard in nearly to the wind, and haul taut both braces. haul out the reef-tackles, make fast, and haul taut the buntlines. before going upon the yard, see that it is well down by the lifts. let the best men go to the yard-arms, and the light hands remain in the slings. cast adrift the weather earing, pass it _over_ the yard-arm outside the lift, down abaft and under the yard, and _up_ through the reef-cringle. haul well out, and take a round-turn with the earing round the cringle. then pass several turns round the yard and through the cringle, hauling them well taut, passing the turns _over_ the yard, down abaft and under, and _up_ through the cringle.[3] having expended nearly all the earing, hitch the remainder round the two first parts, that go outside the lift, jamming them together and passing several turns round them both to expend the rope. the bare end may be hitched to these two parts or to the lift. the men on the yard light the sail out to windward by the reef-points, to help the man at the weather yard-arm in hauling out his earing. as soon as the weather earing is hauled out and made secure by a turn or two, the word is passed--"haul out to leeward," and the lee earing is hauled out till the band is taut along the yard, and made fast in the same manner. then the men on the yard tie the reef-points with square knots, being careful to take the after points clear of the topgallant sheets. [3] be careful to pass the turns clear of the topgallant sheets. in reefing, a good deal depends upon the way in which the yard is laid. if the yard is braced too much in, the sail catches flat aback and cannot be hauled out, besides the danger of knocking the men off the foot-ropes. the best way is to shiver the sail well till the yard is down, then brace it in with a slight full, make the braces fast, and luff up occasionally and shake the sail while the men are reefing. if you are going before the wind, you may, by putting your helm either way, and bringing the wind abeam, clew the yard down as the sail lifts, and keep her in this position, with the yard braced sharp up, until the sail is reefed; or, if you are not willing to keep off from your course, and the wind is very fresh, clew down and clew up, and reef as before directed. all the reefs are taken in the same way except the _close reef_. in close reefing, pass your earing _under_ the yard, up abaft and over, and _down_ through the cringle. pass all your turns in the same manner; and bring the reef-band well under the yard in knotting, so as to cover the other reefs. as soon as the men are off the yard, let go the reef-tackles, clewlines, buntlines, and topgallant sheets; man the halyards, let go the lee brace, slack off the weather one, and hoist away. when well up, trim the yard by the braces, and haul out the bowlines. a reefed sail should never be braced quite sharp up, and if there is a heavy sea and the vessel pitches badly, ease the braces a little, that the yard may play freely, and do not haul the leech too taut. to reef a course.--as a course generally has no reef-tackle, you must clew it up as for furling, according to the directions before given, except that the clews are not hauled chock up. lay out on the yard and haul out the earings, and knot the points as for the first reef of a topsail, seeing them clear of the topsail sheets. if a long course of bad weather is anticipated, as in doubling the southern capes, or crossing the atlantic in winter, reef-tackles are rove for the courses. if there are any studdingsail booms on the lower or topsail yards, they must be triced up before reefing. to turn out reefs.--for a topsail, haul taut the reef-tackles and buntlines, settle a little on the halyards, if necessary; lay aloft, and cast off all the reef-points, beginning at the bunt and laying out. be careful to cast all off before slacking up the earing; for, when there is more than one reef, a point may be easily left, if care is not taken. have one hand at each earing, cast off all the turns but enough to hold it, and when both earings are ready, ease off both together. pass the end of the earing through the cringle next above its own, and make it fast slack to its own part by a bowline knot. lay in off the yard, let go reef-tackles, clewlines, buntlines, and topgallant sheets; overhaul them in the top and hoist away, slacking the braces and trimming the yard. the reefs of a course are turned out a good deal in the same manner; slacking up the sheet and tack, if necessary, and, when the earings are cast off, let go clew-garnets, buntlines and leechlines, board the tack, and haul aft the sheet. to set a topgallant studdingsail.--this sail is always set from the top; the sail, together with the tack and halyards in two coils, being kept in the top. if there is but one hand aloft, take the end of the halyards aloft, _abaft_ everything, and reeve it _up_ through the block at the topgallant mast-head, and _down_ through the sheave-hole or block at the topgallant yard-arm, _abaft_ the sheet, and bring it into the top, forward of the rigging, and make it fast to the forward shroud. take the end of your tack out on the topsail yard, _under_ the brace, reeve it _up_ through the block at the end of the topgallant studdingsail boom, bring it in _over_ the brace, overhauling a plenty of it so as to let the boom go out, and hitch it to the topmast rigging while you rig your boom out. cast off the heel-lashing and rig your boom out to the mark, slue the boom with the block up and make fast round the yard. (the easiest way of passing the boom-lashing is to take it over the yard and put a bight up between the head-rope and yard; then take the end back over the yard and boom and through the bight, and haul taut. this may be done twice, if necessary, and then hitch it round all parts, between the boom and the yard.) the boom being rigged out and fast, take the end of your tack down into the top and hitch it to the forward shroud. then take the coil of the tack and throw the other end down on deck, outside of the rigging and backstays. (it is well, in throwing the coil down, to keep hold of the bight with one hand, for otherwise, if they should miss it on deck, you will have to rig in your boom.) throw down the hauling end of your halyards abaft and inside everything. now get your sail clear for sending out. lay the yard across the top, forward of the rigging, with the outer end out. bend your halyards to the yard by a fisherman's bend, about one third of the way out. take your tack under the yard and bend it by a sheet-bend to the outer clew, and pay down the sheet and downhaul through the lubber-hole. all being clear for hoisting, sway away on the halyards on deck, the men in the top guying the sail by the sheet and downhaul, the latter being hauled taut enough to keep the outer clew up to the inner yard-arm. (sometimes it is well to make up the downhaul as is done with the downhaul of the topmast studdingsail.) when the sail is above the brace, haul out on the tack, sway the yard chock up by the halyards, and trim the sheet down. make the end of the downhaul fast slack. a weather topgallant or topmast studdingsail should be set abaft the sail, and a lee one forward of the sail. therefore, in setting a lee topgallant studdingsail, it is well to send it out of the top with a turn in it, that is, with the inner yard-arm slued forward and out, so that when the tack and sheet are hauled upon, the inner yard-arm will swing forward of the topgallant sail.[4] [4] it will assist this operation to keep hold of the outer leech until the sail is clear of the top. small sized vessels have no downhaul to the topgallant studdingsails. this saves confusion, and is very well if the sail is small. to take in a topgallant studdingsail.--let go the tack and clew up the downhaul, dipping the yard abaft the leech of the topgallant sail, if it is forward. lower away handsomely on the halyards, hauling down on the sheet and downhaul. when the yard is below the topsail brace, lower roundly and haul into the top, forward of the rigging. if the sail is taken in temporarily, stand the yard up and down and becket it to the middle topmast shroud; make the sail up, hitch the bight of the tack and halyards to the forward shroud, and haul up the sheet and downhaul. if everything is to be stowed away, unreeve the tack and halyards, and coil them away separately in the top; also coil away the sheets and downhaul, and stop all the coils down by hitches passed through the slats of the top. rig the boom in and make it fast to the tye. sometimes the halyards are unrove from the yard-arm and rounded up to the span-block, with a knot in their end. to set a topmast studdingsail.--the topmast studdingsail halyards are generally kept coiled away in the top. take the end up, reeve it _up_ through the span-block at the cap, and _out_ through the block at the topsail yard-arm, and pay the end down to the forecastle, forward of the yard and outside the bowline. pay the hauling end down through the lubber-hole. reeve your lower halyards. these are usually kept coiled away in the top, with the pennant, which hooks to the cap of the lower mast. hook the pennant, reeve the halyards _up_ through the pennant block, _out_ through the block on the boom-end, and pay the end down to the forecastle. pay the hauling end down _forward_ of the top. (some vessels keep their top-mast studdingsail tacks coiled away at the yard-arm, and hitched down to the boom and yard. this is a clumsy practice, and saves no time or trouble. the best way is to unreeve them whenever the boom is to be rigged in, and coil them away in the bow of the long-boat, or elsewhere. there is no more trouble, and less liability to confusion, in reeving them afresh, than in coiling them away and clearing again on the yard-arms.) carry your tack outside the backstays and lower rigging, clear of everything, out upon the lower yard under the brace; reeve it _forward_ through the tack-block at the boom-end, first sluing the block up, and pay the end down forward of the yard. rig the boom out to the mark and lash it. get the studdingsail on the forecastle clear for setting. bend the halyards to the yard, about one half of the way out. hitch the end of the downhaul over the inner yard-arm by the eye in its end, reeve it through the lizard on the outer leech, and through the block at the outer clew abaft the sail. bend the tack to the outer clew, and take a turn with the sheet. clew the yard down by the downhaul, and make the downhaul up just clear of the block, by a catspaw doubled and the bight of the running part shoved through the bight of all the parts, so that hauling on it may clear it and let the yard go up. hoist on the halyards until the sail is above the lower yard, guying it by the sheet and downhaul, then haul out on the tack until the clew is chock out to the boom-end, hoist on the halyards, jerking the downhaul clear, and trim down the sheet. to take in a topmast studdingsail.--lower away handsomely on the halyards, clewing the yard down to the outer clew by the downhaul. slack up the tack, and lower away on the halyards, hauling down well on the sheet and downhaul, till the sail is in upon the forecastle. the sail may be made up on the forecastle, and the end of the tack and halyards made fast forward, if it is to be soon set again. if not, cast off all, unreeve your tack, hauling from aft, and coil it away. unreeve the halyards, or round them up to the block at the mast-head with a knot in their end. rig the boom in, and lash it to the slings. to set a lower studdingsail.--before rigging out the top-mast studdingsail boom, the lower halyards should always be rove, as before directed. reeve the inner halyards _out_ through a small single block under the slings of the lower yard, and through another about two thirds of the way out, and pay the end down upon the forecastle for bending. get the studdingsail clear, bend the outer halyards to the yard, and the inner halyards to the inner cringle at the head of the sail. reeve the outhaul through the block at the swinging-boom-end, and bend the forward end to the outer clew of the sail. hook the topping-lift and forward guy to the boom, and top up on it. haul on the forward guy, and ease off the after one, slacking away a little on the topping-lift, until the boom is trimmed by the lower yard; then make fast the guys and lift. haul well taut the fore lift and brace, and belay. take a turn with one sheet, hoist away on the outer halyards, and when about one third up, clear the downhaul, haul chock out on the outhaul, and hoist well up by the halyards, which will serve as a lift to the topmast studdingsail boom; and then set taut on the inner halyards and trim down the sheet. the practice now is, and it is found most convenient, to set the sail before rigging out the boom; then clap on the outhaul and forward guy, and trim the boom by the lower yard. to take in a lower studdingsail.--let go the outhaul, and haul on the clewline till the outer clew is up to the yard. then lower away the outer halyards, and haul in on the sheet and clewline. when the sail is in over the rail, lower away the inner halyards. if the booms are to be rigged in, cast off all the gear; making the bending end of the outhaul fast in-board, and unreeving the outer and inner halyards, or running the outer up to the pennant block, and the inner up to the yard block, with knots in their ends. ease off the forward guy with a turn, haul in on the after guy, topping well up by the lift, and get the boom alongside. rig in the topmast studdingsail boom before unreeving the outer halyards. it is a convenient practice, when the swinging boom is alongside, to hook the topping-lift to a becket or thimble at the turning in of the fore swifter, and the forward guy to a strap and thimble on the spritsail yard. in strong winds it is well to have a boom-brace-pennant fitted to the topmast studdingsail boom-end with a single block, making a whip purchase, the hauling part leading to the gangway, and belaying at the same pin with the tack; or else, the brace may lead to the gangway, and the tack be brought in through blocks on the yard, and lead down on deck, beside the mast. the former mode is more usual. the topmast studdingsail is sometimes made with a reef in it, to be carried with a single reefed topsail; in which case it is reefed on deck to the yard and sent out as before. chapter x. general principles of working a ship. action of the water upon the rudder. headway. sternway. action of the wind upon the sails. head-sails. after-sails. centre of gravity or rotation. turning a ship to or from the wind. a ship is acted upon principally by the rudder and sails. when the rudder is fore-and-aft, that is, on a line with the keel, the water runs by it, and it has no effect upon the ship's direction. when it is changed from a right line to one side or the other, the water strikes against it, and forces the stern in an opposite direction. for instance, if the helm is put to the starboard, the rudder is put off the line of the keel, to port. this sends the stern off to the starboard, and, of course, the ship turning on her centre of gravity, her head goes in an opposite direction, to port. if the helm is put to port, the reverse will follow, and the ship's head will turn off her course to starboard. therefore the helm is always put in the opposite direction from that in which the ship's head is to be moved. moving the rudder from a right line has the effect of deadening the ship's way more or less, according as it is put at a greater or less angle with the keel. a ship should therefore be so balanced by her sails that a slight change of her helm may answer the purpose. if a vessel is going astern, and the rudder is turned off from the line of the keel, the water, striking against the back of the rudder, pushes the stern off in the same direction in which the rudder is turned. for instance, if sternway is on her, and the helm is put to the starboard, the rudder turns to port, the water forces the stern in the same direction, and the ship's head goes off to the starboard. therefore, when sternway is on a vessel, put the helm in the same direction in which the head is to be turned. a current or tide running astern, that is, when the ship's head is toward it, will have the same effect on the rudder as if the ship were going ahead; and when it runs forward, it will be the same as though the ship were going astern. it will now be well to show how the sails act upon a ship, with reference to her centre of rotation. suppose a vessel to be rigged with three sails, one in the forward part, one at the centre, and the third at the after part, and her left or larboard side to be presented to the wind, which we will suppose to be abeam, or at right angles with the keel. if the head sail only were set, the effect would be that the wind would send the vessel a little ahead and off to the starboard on her centre of rotation, so as to bring her stern slowly round to the wind. if the after sail only were set, the vessel would shoot ahead a little, her stern would go off to the starboard and her head come up into the wind. if only the centre sail were set, the effect would be the same as if all three of the sails were set, and she would go ahead in a straight line. so far, we have supposed the sails to be set _full_; that is, with their tacks forward and their sheets aft. if they were all set _aback_, the vessel would go astern nearly, if the rudder were kept steady, in a straight line. if the head sail only is set and aback, she will go astern and round upon her axis, with her head from the wind, much quicker than if full. so, if the after sail alone were set and aback, she would go astern, and her head would come suddenly into the wind. these principles of the wind acting upon the sails, and the water upon the rudder, are the foundation of the whole science of working a ship. in large vessels the sails are numerous, but they may all be reduced to three classes, viz., head sails, or those which are forward of the centre of gravity or rotation, having a tendency to send the ship's head off from the wind; after sails, or those abaft the centre of rotation, and which send the stern off and the head toward the wind; and lastly, centre sails, which act equally on each side the centre of rotation, and do not turn the ship off her course one way or the other. these classes of sails, if set aback, tend to stop the headway and send the ship astern, and also to turn her off her course in the same direction as when set full, but with more rapidity. the further a sail is from the centre of rotation, the greater is its tendency to send the ship off from the line of her keel. accordingly, a jib is the strongest head sail, and a spanker the strongest after sail. the centre of rotation is not necessarily at the centre of the ship. on the contrary, as vessels are now built, it may not be much abaft that part of the deck to which the main tack is boarded. for the main breadth, or dead-flat, being there, the greatest cavity will also be there, and of course the principal weight of the cargo should centre there, as being the strongest part. therefore the centre of rotation will greatly depend upon proper stowage. if the ship is much by the stern, the centre of rotation will be carried aft, and if by the head, it will be carried forward. the cause of this is, that when loaded down by the stern, her after sails have but little effect to move her stern against the water, and a very slight action upon the forward sails will send her head off to leeward, as she is there light and high in the air. accordingly, to keep her in a straight line, the press of sail is required to be further aft, or, in other words, the centre of rotation is further aft. if a ship is loaded down by the head, the opposite results follow, and more head and less after sail is necessary. a ship should be so stowed, and have her sails so trimmed, that she may be balanced as much as possible, and not be obliged to carry her helm much off the line of her keel, which tends to deaden her way. if a ship is stowed in her best sailing trim, and it is found, when on a wind, that her head tends to windward, obliging her to carry a strong weather helm, it may be remedied by taking in some after sail, or adding head sail. so, if she carries a lee helm, that is, if her head tends to fly off from the wind, it is remedied by taking in head or adding after sail. sometimes a ship is made to carry a weather helm by having too much head sail set aloft. for, if she lies much over on a wind, the square sails forward have a tendency to press her downwards and raise her proportionally abaft, so that she meets great resistance from the water to leeward under her bows, while her stern, being light, is easily carried off; which, of course, requires her to carry a weather helm. the general rules, then, for turning a ship, are these: to bring her head to the wind,--put the helm to leeward, and bring the wind to act as much as possible on the after sails, and as little as possible on the head sails. this may be done without taking in any sail, by letting go the head sheets, so that those sails may lose their wind, and by pointing the head yards to the wind, so as to keep the head sails shaking. at the same time keep the after sails full, and flatten in the spanker sheet; or, if this is not sufficient, the after sails may be braced aback, which will send the stern off and the head to windward. but as this makes back sails of them, and tends to send the vessel astern, there should be either head or centre sails enough filled to counteract this and keep headway upon her. on the other hand, to turn the head off from the wind, put the helm to windward, shiver the after sails, and flatten in the head sheets. brace the head yards aback if necessary, being careful not to let her lose headway if it can be avoided. the vessel may be assisted very much in going off or coming to, by setting or taking in the jib and spanker; which, if the latter is fitted with brails, are easily handled. chapter xi. tacking, wearing, boxing, &c. tacking without fore-reaching. tacking against a heavy sea. hauling off all. to trim the yards. flattening in. missing stays. wearing--under courses--under a mainsail--under bare poles. box-hauling--short round. club-hauling. drifting in a tide-way. backing and filling in do. clubbing in do. tacking.--have the ship so suited with sails that she may steer herself as nearly as possible, and come to with a small helm. keep her a good full, so that she may have plenty of headway. _ready, about!_ send all hands to their stations. the chief mate and one, two, or more of the best men, according to the size of the vessel, on the forecastle, to work the head sheets and bowlines and the fore tack; two or more good men (one usually a petty officer, or an older and trusty seaman) to work the main tack and bowline. the second mate sees the lee fore and main braces clear and ready for letting go, and stands by to let go the lee main braces, which may all be belayed to one pin. put one hand to let go the weather cross-jack braces, and others to haul in to leeward; the cook works the fore sheet, and the steward the main; station one or more at the spanker sheet and guys; and the rest at the weather main braces. ease the helm down gradually; _helm's a-lee!_ and let go the jib sheet and fore sheets. as soon as the wind is parallel with the yards, blowing directly upon the leeches of the square sails, so that all is shaking, _raise tacks and sheets!_ and let go the fore and main tacks and main sheet, keeping the fore and main bowline fast. as soon as her head is within a point or a point and a half of the wind, _mainsail haul!_ let go the lee main and weather cross-jack braces, and swing the after yards round. while she is head to the wind, and the after sails are becalmed by the head sails, get the main tack down and sheet aft, and right your helm, using it afterwards as her coming to or falling off requires. as soon as she passes the direction of the wind, shift your jib sheets over the stays, and when the after sails take full, or when she brings the wind four points on the other bow, and you are sure of paying off sufficiently, _let go and haul!_ brace round the head yards briskly, down fore tack and aft the sheet, brace sharp up and haul your bowlines out, and trim down your head sheets. it is best to haul the mainsail just before you get the wind right ahead, for then the wind, striking the weather leeches of the after sails, forces them round almost without the braces, and you will have time to brace up and get your tack down and sheet aft, when she has payed off on the other side. if she falls off too rapidly while swinging your head yards, so as to bring the wind abeam or abaft, _'vast bracing!_ ease off head sheets and put your helm a-lee; and as she comes up, meet her and brace sharp up. if, on the other hand, (as sometimes happens with vessels which carry a strong weather helm,) she does not fall off after the after sails take, be careful not to haul your head yards until she is fully round; and if she should fly up into the wind, let go the main sheet, and, if necessary, brail up the spanker and shiver the cross-jack yards. in staying, be careful to right your helm before she loses headway. to tack without fore-reaching, as in a narrow channel, when you are afraid to keep headway. if she comes slowly up to windward, haul down the jib and get your spanker-boom well over to windward. as you raise tacks and sheets, let go the lee fore topsail brace, being careful to brace up again as soon as she takes aback. also, hoist the jib, and trim down, if necessary, as soon as she takes on the other side. tacking against a heavy head sea.--you are under short sail, there is a heavy head sea, and you doubt whether she will stay against it. haul down the fore topmast staysail, ease down the helm, and raise fore sheet. when within about a point of the wind's eye, let go main tack and sheet, lee braces and after bowlines, and _mainsail haul!_ if she loses her headway at this time, shift your helm. as soon as she brings the wind on the other bow, she will fall off rapidly by reason of her sternway, therefore shift your helm again to meet her, and _let go and haul!_ at once. brace about the head yards, but keep the weather braces in, to moderate her falling off. when she gets headway, right the helm, and as she comes up to the wind, brace up and haul aft. tacking by hauling off all.--this can be done only in a smooth sea, with a light working breeze, a smart vessel and strong crew. man all the braces. let her come up head to the wind, and fall off on the other tack, shifting the helm if she gathers sternway. when you get the wind about five points on the other bow, _haul off all!_ let go all the braces and bowlines and swing all the yards at once. right the helm, board tacks and haul aft sheets, brace up and haul out. to trim the yards when close-hauled.--in smooth water, with a light breeze, brace the lower yards sharp up, and trim the upper yards each a trifle in abaft the one below it. if you have a pretty stiff breeze, brace the topsail yard in about half a point more than the lower yard, and the topgallant yard half a point more than the topsail yard, and so on. if you have a strong breeze and a topping sea, and especially if reduced to short sail, brace in your lower yards a little, and the others proportionally. this will prevent the vessel going off bodily to leeward; and if she labors heavily, the play of the mast would otherwise carry away the braces and sheets, or spring the yards. missing stays.--if after getting head to the wind she comes to a stand and begins to fall off before you have hauled your main yard, flatten in your jib sheets, board fore tack, and haul aft fore sheet; also ease off spanker sheet, or brail up the spanker, if necessary. when she is full again, trim the jib and spanker sheets, and when she has recovered sufficient headway, try it again. if, after coming head to the wind, and after the after yards are swung, she loses headway and refuses to go round, or begins to fall off on the same tack on which she was before, and you have shifted the helm without effect, haul up the mainsail and spanker, square the after yards, shift your helm again a-lee, so as to assist her in falling off, and brace round the head yards so as to box her off. as she fills on her former tack, brace up the after yards, brace round the head yards, sharp up all, board tacks, haul out and haul aft. wearing.--haul up the mainsail and spanker, put the helm up, and, as she goes off, brace in the after yards. if there is a light breeze, the rule is to keep the mizzen topsail lifting, and the main topsail full. this will keep sufficient headway on her, and at the same time enable her to fall off. but if you have a good breeze and she goes off fast, keep both the main and mizzen topsails lifting. as she goes round, bringing the wind on her quarter and aft, follow the wind with your after yards, keeping the mizzen topsail lifting, and the main either lifting or full, as is best. after a vessel has fallen off much, the less headway she has the better, provided she has enough to give her steerage. when you have the wind aft, raise fore tack and sheet, square in the head yards, and haul down the jib. as she brings the wind on the other quarter, brace sharp up the after yards, haul out the spanker, and set the mainsail. as she comes to on the other tack, brace up the head yards, keeping the sails full, board fore tack and aft the sheet, hoist the jib, and meet her with the helm. to wear under courses.--square the cross-jack yards, ease off main bowline and tack, and haul up the weather clew of the mainsail. ease off the main sheet, and haul up the lee clew, and the buntlines and leechlines. square the main yards and put the helm a-weather. as she falls off, let go the fore bowline, ease off the fore sheet, and brace in the fore yard. when she gets before the wind, board the fore and main tacks on the other side, and haul aft the main sheet, but keep the weather braces in. as she comes to on the other side, ease the helm, trim down the fore sheet, brace up and haul out. to wear under a mainsail.--vessels lying-to under this sail generally wear by hoisting the fore topmast staysail, or some other head sail. if this cannot be done, brace the cross-jack yards to the wind, and, if necessary, send down the mizzen topmast and the cross-jack yard. brace the head yards full. take an opportunity when she has headway, and will fall off, to put the helm up. ease off the main sheet, and, as she falls off, brace in the main yard a little. when the wind is abaft the beam, raise the main tack. when she is dead before it, get the other main tack down as far as possible; and when she has the wind on the other quarter, ease the helm, haul aft the sheet, and brace up. to wear under bare poles.--some vessels, which are well down by the stern, will wear in this situation, by merely pointing the after yards to the wind, or sending down the mizzen topmast and the cross-jack yard, and filling the head yards; but vessels in good trim will not do this. to assist the vessel, veer a good scope of hawser out of the lee quarter, with a buoy, or something for a stop-water, attached to the end. as the ship sags off to leeward, the buoy will be to windward, and will tend to bring the stern round to the wind. when she is before it, haul the hawser aboard. box-hauling.--put the helm down, light up the head sheets and slack the lee braces, to deaden her way. as she comes to the wind, raise tacks and sheets, and haul up the mainsail and spanker. as soon as she comes head to the wind and loses her headway, square the after yards, brace the head yards sharp aback, and flatten in the head sheets. the helm, being put down to bring her up, will now pay her off, as she has sternway on. as she goes off, keep the after sails lifting, and square in the head yards. as soon as the sails on the foremast give her headway, shift the helm. when she gets the wind on the other quarter, haul down the jib, haul out the spanker, set the mainsail, and brace the after yards sharp up. as she comes to on the other tack, brace up the head yards, meet her with the helm, and set the jib. box-hauling short round; sometimes called _wearing short round._--haul up the mainsail and spanker, put the helm hard a-weather, square the after yards, brace the head yards sharp aback, and flatten in the head sheets. as she gathers sternway, shift the helm. after this, proceed as in box-hauling by the former method. the first mode is preferable when you wish to stop headway as soon as possible; as a vessel under good way will range ahead some distance after the sails are all thrown flat aback. few merchant vessels are strongly enough manned to perform these evolutions; but they are often of service, as they turn a vessel round quicker on her heel, and will stop her from fore-reaching when near in shore or when close aboard another vessel. club-hauling.--this method of going about is resorted to when on a lee shore, and the vessel can neither be tacked nor box-hauled. cock-bill your lee anchor, get a hawser on it for a spring, and lead it to the lee quarter; range your cable, and unshackle it abaft the windlass. _helm's a-lee!_ and _raise tacks and sheets!_ as for going in stays. the moment she loses headway, let go the anchor and _mainsail haul!_ as soon as the anchor brings her head to the wind, let the chain cable go, holding on to the spring; and when the after sails take full, cast off or cut the spring, and _let go and haul!_ drifting in a tide-way.--as a vessel is deeper aft than forward, her stern will always tend to drift faster than her head. if the current is setting out of a river or harbor, and the wind the opposite way, or only partly across the current, you may work out by tacking from shore to shore; or you may let her drift out, broadside to the current; or, keeping her head to the current by sufficient sail, you may let her drift out stern first; or, lastly, you may _club_ her down. if the wind is partly across the current, cast to windward. if you work down by tacking, and the wind is at all across the current, be careful of the lee shore, and stay in season, since, if you miss stays, you may not be able to save yourself by wearing or box-hauling, as you might on the weather shore. if the channel is very narrow, or there are many vessels at anchor, the safest way is to bring her head to the current, brace the yards full, and keep only sail enough to give her steerage, that you may sheer from side to side. if there is room enough, you will drift more rapidly by bringing her broadside to the current, keeping the topsails shaking, and counteract the force of the current upon the stern by having the spanker full and the helm a-lee. you can at any time shoot her ahead, back her astern, or bring her head to the current, by filling the head yards, taking in the spanker, and setting the jib; filling the after yards, taking in the jib, and setting the spanker; or by bracing all aback. backing and filling in a tide-way.--counter-brace your yards as in lying-to, and drift down broadside to the current. fill away and shoot ahead, or throw all aback and force her astern, as occasion may require. when you approach the shore on either side, fill away till she gets sufficient headway, and put her in stays or wear her round. clubbing in a tide-way.--drift down with your anchor under your foot, heaving in or paying out on your cable as you wish to increase or deaden her way. have a spring on your cable, so as to present a broadside to the current. this method is a troublesome and dangerous one, and rarely resorted to. an anchor will seldom drag clear, through the whole operation. chapter xii. gales of wind, lying-to, getting aback, by the lee, &c. lying-to.--choice of sails. scudding. heave-to after scudding. taken aback. chappelling. broaching-to. by the lee. lying-to.--the best single sail to lie-to under, is generally thought to be a close-reefed maintopsail. the fore or the main spencer (sails which are used very much now instead of main and mizzen staysails) may be used to advantage, according as a ship requires sail more before or abaft the centre of gravity. if a ship will bear more than one sail, it is thought best to separate the pressure. then set the fore and main spencers; or (if she carries staysails instead) the main and mizzen staysail; or, if she is easier under lofty sail, the fore and main topsails close-reefed. a close-reefed main topsail, with three lower storm staysails; or, with the two spencers, fore topmast staysail, and reefed spanker, is considered a good arrangement for lying-to. if the fore topmast staysail and balance-reefed spanker can be added to the two close-reefed topsails, she will keep some way, will go less to leeward, and can be easily wore round. close-reefed topsails are used much more now for lying-to than the courses. as ships are now built, with the centre of gravity farther forward, and the foremast stepped more aft, they will lie-to under head sail better than formerly. some vessels, which are well down by the stern, will lie-to under a reefed foresail, as this tends to press her down forward; whereas, if she had much after sail, she would have all the lateral resistance of the water aft, and would come up to the wind. in carrying most head or after sail, you must be determined by the trim of the vessel, her tendency to come to or go off, and as to whether the sail you use will act as a lifting or a burying sail. a topsail has an advantage over a spencer or lower staysail for lying-to, since it steadies the ship better, and counteracts the heavy weather roll, which a vessel will give under low and small fore-and-aft sails. scudding.--the most approved sail for scudding is the close-reefed maintopsail, with a reefed foresail. the course alone might get becalmed under the lee of a high sea, and the vessel, losing her way, would be overtaken by the sea from aft; whereas the topsail will always give her way enough and lift her. the foresail is of use in case she should be brought by the lee. many officers recommend that the fore topmast staysail, or fore storm staysail, should always be set in scudding, to pay her off if she should broach-to, and with the sheets hauled flat aft. it has been thought that with the wind quartering and a heavy sea, a vessel is more under command with a close-reefed foretopsail and maintopmast staysail. the foretopmast staysail may also be hoisted. if the ship flies off and gets by the lee, the foretopsail is soon braced about, and, with the maintopmast staysail sheet shifted to the other side, the headway is not lost. to heave-to after scudding.--secure everything about decks, and watch a smooth time. suppose her to be scudding under a close-reefed maintopsail and reefed foresail; haul up the foresail, put the helm down, brace up the after yards, and set the mizzen staysail. as she comes to, set the main staysail, meet her with the helm, brace up the head-yards, and set the fore or foretopmast staysail. if your vessel labors much, ease the lee braces and the halyards, that everything may work fairly aloft, and let her have a plenty of helm, to come to and fall off freely with the sea. the helmsman will often let the wheel fly off to leeward, taking care to meet her easily and in season. the sails should be so arranged as to require little of the rudder. taken aback.--it will frequently happen, when sailing close-hauled, especially in light winds, from a shift of wind, from its dying away, or from inattention, that the ship will come up into the wind, shaking the square sails forward. in this case, it will often be sufficient to put the helm hard up, flatten in the head sheets, or haul their bights to windward, and haul up the spanker. if this will not recover her, and she continues to come to, box her off. raise fore tack and sheet, haul up the spanker and mainsail, brace the head-yards aback, haul the jib sheets to windward, and haul out the lee bowlines. when the after sails fill, _let go and haul!_ this manoeuvre of boxing can only be performed in good weather and light winds, as it usually gives a vessel sternway. if the wind has got round upon the other bow, and it is too late for box-hauling, square the yards fore and aft, keeping your helm so as to pay her off under sternway; and, as the sails fill, keep the after yards shaking, and haul up the spanker and mainsail, squaring the head-yards, and shifting your helm as she gathers headway. chappelling.--this operation is performed when, instead of coming to, you are taken aback in light winds. put the helm up, if she has headway, haul up the mainsail and spanker, and square the after yards. shift the helm as she gathers sternway, and when the after sails fill, and she gathers headway, shift your helm again. when she brings the wind aft, brace up the after yards, get the main tack down and sheet aft, and haul out the spanker as soon as it will take. the head braces are not touched, but the yards remain braced as before. the former mode of wearing, by squaring the head-yards when the after sails are full, has great advantages over chappelling, as the vessel will go off faster when the wind is abeam and abaft, and will come to quicker when the wind gets on the other side. broaching-to.--this is when a vessel is scudding, and comes up into the wind and gets aback. for such an accident, the foretopmast staysail is set, which will act as an off-sail, so that by keeping the helm up, with the maintopsail (if set) braced into the wind, she will pay off again without getting sternway. if the close-reefed foretopsail is carried instead of the main, it can be easily filled. brought by the lee.--this is when a vessel is scudding with the wind quartering, and falls off so as to bring the wind on the other side, laying the sails aback. this is more likely to occur than broaching-to, especially in a heavy sea. suppose the vessel to be scudding under a close-reefed maintopsail and reefed foresail, with the wind on her larboard quarter. she falls off suddenly and brings the wind on the starboard quarter, laying all aback. put your helm hard a-starboard, raise fore tack and sheet, and fill the foresail, shivering the maintopsail. when she brings the wind aft again, meet her with the helm, and trim the yards for her course. chapter xiii. accidents. on beam-ends. losing a rudder. a squall. a man overboard. collision. rules for vessels passing one another. on beam-ends.--a vessel is usually thrown upon her beam-ends by a sudden squall taking her, when under a press of sail, and shifting the ballast. she must be righted, if possible, without cutting away the masts. for, beside sacrificing them, the object can seldom be accomplished in that way, if the ballast and cargo have shifted. carry a hawser from the lee quarter, with spars and other good stop-waters bent to it. as the ship drifts well to leeward, the hawser will bring her stern to the wind; but it may not cast her on the other side. if a spring can be got upon the hawser from the lee bow, and hauled upon, and the stern fast let go, this will bring the wind to act upon the flat part of the deck and pay her stern off, and assist the spring, when the sails may be trimmed to help her in righting. if she can be brought head to the wind, and the sails be taken aback, she may cast on the other tack. when there is anchoring ground, the practice is to let go the lee anchor, which may take the sails aback and cast her. then the ballast and cargo may be righted. if there is no anchoring ground, a vessel may still be kept head to the wind, by paying a chain cable out of the lee hawse-hole; or by bending a hawser to a large spar, which may be kept broadside-to by a span, to the centre of which the hawser is bent. the same operation may be applied to a vessel overset, and is preferable to wearing by a hawser. make fast the hawser forward to the lee bow, carry the other end aft to windward and bend it to the spar, and launch the spar overboard. by this means, or by letting go an anchor, though there be no bottom to be reached, a vessel may often be recovered. losing a rudder.--the first thing to be done on losing a rudder, is to bring the ship to the wind by bracing up the after yards. meet her with the head yards, as she comes to. take in sail forward and aft, and keep her hove-to by her sails. a vessel may be made to steer herself for a long time, by carefully trimming the yards and slacking up the jib sheets or the spanker sheet a little, as may be required. having got the ship by the wind, get up a hawser, middle it, and take a slack clove-hitch at the centre. get up a cable, reeve its end through this hitch, and pay the cable out over the taffrail. having payed out about fifty fathoms, jam the hitch and rack it well, so that it cannot slip; pay out on the cable until the hitch takes the water; then lash the cable to the centre of the taffrail; lash a spare spar under it across the stern, with a block well secured at each end, through which reeve the ends of the hawser, one on each quarter, and reeve them again through blocks at the sides, abreast of the wheel. by this, a ship may be steered until a temporary rudder can be constructed. a rudder may be fitted by taking a spare topmast, or other large spar, and cutting it flat in the form of a stern-post. bore holes at proper distances in that part which is to be the fore part of the preventer or additional stern-post; then take the thickest plank on board, and make it as near as possible into the form of a rudder; bore holes at proper distances in the fore part of it and in the after part of the preventer stern-post, to correspond with each other, and reeve rope grommets through those holes in the rudder and after part of the stern-post, for the rudder to play upon. through the preventer stern-post, reeve guys, and at the fore part of them fix tackles, and then put the machine overboard. when it is in a proper position, or in a line with the ship's stern-post, lash the upper part of the preventer post to the upper part of the ship's stern-post; then hook tackles at or near the main chains, and bowse taut on the guys to confine it to the lower part of the preventer stern-post. having holes bored through the preventer and proper stern-post, run an iron bolt through both, (taking care not to touch the rudder,) which will prevent the false stern-post from rising or falling. by the guys on the after part of the rudder and tackles affixed to them, the ship may be steered, taking care to bowse taut the tackles on the preventer stern-post, to keep it close to the proper stern-post. a squall.--if you see a squall approaching, take in the light sails, stand by to clew down, and keep her off a little, if necessary. if you are taken by one, unprepared, with all sail set and close-hauled, put the helm hard up, let go the spanker sheet and outhaul, and the main sheet. clew up royals and topgallant sails, haul down flying-jib, haul up the mainsail, and clew down the mizzen topsail. when you are before the wind, clew down the topsail yards, and haul out the reef-tackles. you may run before the squall until it moderates, or furl the light sails, bring by the wind, and reef. a man overboard.[5]--the moment the cry is heard, put the helm down and bring her up into the wind, whether she is on the wind or free, and deaden her headway. throw overboard instantly life buoys, or, if there are none at hand, take a grating, the carpenter's bench, or any pieces of plank or loose spars there may be about decks; and let two or three hands clear away a quarter boat. the best plan is, if the vessel was on the wind, to haul the mainsail up and brace aback the after yards and raise the head sheets; then, having her main yard aback, she will drift down directly toward the man. keep your head sails full to steady her, while the after ones stop her headway. [5] see totten's naval text book, letter xx. if you are sailing free, with studdingsails set, clew up the lower studdingsail, brace up the head yards, haul forward the fore tack, and keep the head yards full, while you luff up to back the after ones. lower away the boat as soon as it is safe, and, as the vessel will have turned nearly round, direct the boat with reference to her position when the accident happened and her progress since. collision.--if two vessels approach one another, both having a free wind, each keeps to the right. that is, the one with her starboard tacks aboard keeps on or luffs; and the other, if it is necessary to alter her course, keeps off. so, if two vessels approach one another close-hauled on different tacks, and it is doubtful which is to windward, the vessel on the starboard tack keeps on her course, and the other gives way and keeps off. that is, each goes to the right, and the vessel with her starboard tacks aboard has the preference. the only exception to this is, that if the vessel on the larboard tack is so much to windward that in case both persist the vessel on the starboard tack will strike her to leeward and abaft the beam; then the vessel on the starboard tack must give way, as she can do it more easily than the other. another rule is that if one vessel is going dead before the wind and the other going free on the starboard tack, the latter must luff and go under the stern of the former. chapter xiv. heaving-to by counter-bracing. speaking. sounding. heaving the log. counter-bracing.--this is done whenever, with a breeze, a vessel wishes to remain stationary, for the purpose of speaking another vessel, sounding, lowering a boat, or the like. if you do not wish to stop your way entirely, haul up the mainsail, square the main yards aback, keeping the fore and cross-jack yards full, and the foresail, spanker and jib set. if you wish to stop her way still more, back the cross-jack yards also, haul up the foresail, and put the helm a-lee. she will then fall off and come to, which you may regulate by the jib and spanker sheets; and she may be ranged a little ahead, or deadened, by filling or backing the cross-jack yards. you may, on the other hand, back the head yards and fill the after yards. the former method is called heaving-to with the maintopsail to the mast, and the latter, with the foretopsail to the mast. speaking.--when two vessels speak at sea, the one to windward heaves her maintopsail to the mast, and the one to leeward her fore. this is in order that the weather one may the more readily fill without falling off so as to run afoul of the other, and that the lee one may box her head off and keep clear of the ship to windward. the weather one either throws all aback and drops astern, or fills her after yards and shoots ahead. the lee one shivers her after yards and boxes off. if the weather ship comes too near the lee one, before the latter has time to wear, the weather ship squares her head yards, drops her mainsail, braces her cross-jack yards sharp aback, and puts her helm a-weather. this gives her sternway, and the after sails and helm keep her to the wind. if three vessels communicate at sea, the weather and middle ones back their main topsails, and the lee one her fore; then, in case of necessity, the weather one fills her after yards and shoots ahead, the middle one throws all aback and drops astern, and the lee one shivers her after sails and falls off. sounding.--the marks upon the lead-lines have been given previously, at page 17. to sound with the hand-lead, a man stands in the weather main channels with a breast-rope secured to the rigging, and throws the lead forward, while the vessel has headway on. if the depth corresponds with the marks upon the line, as if it is 5, 7, or 10 fathoms, he calls out, "by the _mark five_!" &c. if it is a depth the fathoms of which have no mark upon the line, as 6, 8, or 9, he calls out, "by the _deep six_!" &c. if he judges the depth to be a quarter or a half more than a particular fathom, as, for instance, 5, he calls out, "and a quarter," or, "and a half, five!" &c. if it is 5 and three quarters, he would say, "quarter less six!" and so on. to sound by the deep-sea-lead.--have the line coiled down in a tub or rack, clear for running, abreast of the main rigging. carry the end of the line forward on the weather side, outside of everything, to the cat-head or the spritsail yard-arm, and bend it to the lead, which must be armed with tallow. one man holds the lead for heaving, and the others range themselves along the side, at intervals, each with a coil of the line in his hand. an officer, generally the chief mate, should stand by to get the depth. all being ready, the word is given, "_stand by! heave!_" as soon as the man heaves the lead, he calls out, "_watch, ho! watch!_" and each man, as the last fake of the coil goes out of his hand, repeats, "_watch, ho! watch!_" the line then runs out until it brings up by the lead's being on bottom, or until there is enough out to show that there is no bottom to be reached. the officer notes the depth by the line, which is then snatched, and the men haul it aboard, and coil it away fair. if the lead has been on the bottom, the arming of tallow will bring up some of it; by which the character of the soundings may be ascertained. the soundings, however, cannot be taken until the vessel's way has been stopped or deadened. for this purpose, before heaving the lead, either luff up and keep all shaking, or brace aback the main or mizzen topsail, or both, according to your headway, keeping the head yards full. if you are going free with studdingsails set, you may clew up the lower and boom-end the topmast studdingsails, bring her up to the wind, and keep the sails lifting, without getting them aback. it has been laid down as a rule, that if the vessel sags much to leeward, as when under short sail in a gale of wind, pass the line from the weather side round the stern, clear of everything, and heave the lead from the lee side; otherwise she would leave the lead too far to windward for measurement, or for recovering it again. but in this mode there is great danger of the line getting caught on the bottom or at the rudder-heel. it must be very deep water if a vessel cannot be managed so as to get soundings to windward. heaving the log.--one man holds the log-reel, upon which the log-line is wound, another holds the glass, and the officer squares the chip; and, having coiled up a little of the stray line, he throws the chip overboard astern, or from the lee quarter. as he throws the chip, he calls out, "watch!" to which the man with the glass answers, "watch." as soon as the mark for the stray-line goes off the reel, he calls out, "turn!" and the man turns the glass, answering, "turn," or "done." the instant the sand has run out, he calls, "out!" or "stop!" and the officer stops the line and notes the marks. it is then wound up again on the reel. chapter xv. coming to anchor. getting ready for port. coming to anchor,--close-hauled--free. mooring. flying moor. clearing hawse. to anchor with a slip-rope. slipping a cable. coming-to at a slipped cable. getting ready for port.--get your anchors off the bows, and let them hang by the cat-stoppers and shank-painters. bend your cables and overhaul a few ranges forward of the windlass, according to the depth of the anchorage and the strength of the tide or wind, and range the remainder that you expect to use along the decks, abaft the windlass. have the boats ready for lowering, and a spare hawser, with some stout rope for kedging or warping, at hand, coiled on the hatches. coming to anchor.--if you have the wind free and all sail set, take in your studdingsails, make them up and stow them away, rig in the booms and coil away the gear, and have all ready in good season. you may then, as you draw in toward the anchorage, take in your royals and flying jib, furling the royals if you have time. the topgallant sails are next taken in, and the foresail hauled up. the topgallant sails may be furled or not, according to the strength of the wind and the number of hands. if you are before the wind, your mainsail will be hauled up, or, if the sheet is aft, haul up the lee clew-garnet. get your ship under her topsails, jib and spanker. when near the ground, clew up the fore and main topsails, put the helm down, haul down the jib and flatten in the spanker. if you have too much headway, back the mizzen topsail. cock-bill your anchor and stream the buoy. when she has lost her headway, let go the anchor. let hands stand by to give her chain, as she needs it. if you come into anchoring ground close-hauled, haul in the weather fore and main braces, and clew up. if the wind is light, you may square the fore and main yards before clewing up. this will deaden her way. if the wind is fresh, it would make it difficult to clew up the sails. haul down the jib, and come to by the spanker, or mizzen topsail and spanker. if the wind is light, she may need the mizzen topsail; if not, it may be taken in, and she may be brought to by the spanker. if she has too much headway or there is a tide setting her in, throw all aback. mooring.--a vessel is said to be moored when she rides with more than one anchor, in different directions. the common method of mooring is, when you have come to with one anchor, to pay out chain and let her drop astern until you have out double the scope you intend to ride by. then let go your other anchor. slack up the cable of the latter anchor, and heave in on that of the first, until you have the same scope to each anchor. you may also moor by lowering the anchor and lashing it to the stern of the long boat, and coiling away the full scope in the bottom of the boat. you may then pull off and pick out your own berth, and let go. if you wish to drop your second anchor in any other place than directly to leeward of the first, you may, without using your long boat, warp the vessel over the berth intended for your second anchor. you should always moor so that you may ride with an open hawse in the direction from which you are liable to the strongest winds. if you have chain cables, you may moor with both cables bent to a swivel just clear of the hawse hole, one chain coming in-board. in moderate weather, and where you are not in a strong tide-way, it will generally be sufficient to let go one anchor, since, if you have out a good scope of chain, you will ride by the bight of it, and it will require a very heavy blow to bring a strain upon the anchor. in mooring, you should always have a shackle near the hawse-hole, for clearing hawse. if it is just abaft the windlass, it will be convenient in case you wish to slip your cable. a flying moor--sometimes called a running moor.--have both anchors ready for letting go, with double the scope of chain you intend to ride by ranged for the weather anchor, and the riding scope of the lee chain. there are two ways of making a flying moor. one is to clew up everything and let go the first anchor while she has sufficient headway to run out the whole double range. when it is all out, or just before, luff sharp up, brace aback to stop her way, and let go the other anchor. then heave in on the first and light out on the second, until there is the same scope to each. this mode is almost impracticable in a merchant vessel, where there is but one deck, and where the chain may have to be paid out over a windlass, since the headway would in most cases be soon stopped. the other mode is, to lay all flat aback, and the moment the headway ceases, let go your first anchor, paying out chain as she drops astern, until double your riding scope is out. then let go your second anchor and heave in on the first. clearing hawse.--when a vessel is moored she may swing so as to get a _foul hawse_; that is, so as to bring one cable across the other. if one cable lies over the other, it is called _a cross_. when they make another cross, it is called an _elbow_. three crosses make a _round turn_. the turns may be kept out of a cable by tending the vessel when she swings, and casting her stern one side or the other, by the helm, jib and spanker. to clear hawse, trice the slack cable up by a line or a whip purchase and hook, below the turns. lash the two cables together just below the lowest turn. pass a line round the cable from outside, following each turn, and in through the hawse-hole of the slack cable, and bend it to the shackle. unshackle and bend a line to the end. rouse the cable out through the hawse-hole, slacking up on the end line, and tricing up if necessary. take out the turns by the first line passed in, and haul in again on the end line. shackle the chain again, heave taut, and cast off the lashings. to anchor with a slip-rope.--this is necessary when you are lying in an open road-stead, where you must stand out to sea upon a gale coming up, without taking time to get your anchor. you must ride at one anchor. having come to, take a hawser round from the quarter on the same side with your anchor, outside of everything, and bend its end to the cable just below the hawse-hole. have a buoy triced up forward, clear of everything and carry the buoy-rope in through the hawse-hole, and round the windlass, with three turns, (the first turn being _outside_ the others,) and bend it to the shackle which is to be cast off when the cable is slipped. have another buoy bent to the end of the hawser which is to be used for the slip-rope. to slip a cable.--when ready to slip, everything having been prepared as above, unshackle the chain abaft the windlass, and hoist the topsails, reefed, if necessary. stream the buoy for the end of the chain, and that at the end of the slip-rope aft. take good turns with the slip-rope round the timber-heads, at the quarter. hoist the fore topmast staysail and back the fore topsail, hauling in the braces on the same side with the cable, so that she may cast to the opposite side. fill the after yards, and let go the end of the cable. hold on to the slip-rope aft, until her head is fairly off; then let go, brace full the head yards, and set the spanker. coming-to at a slipped cable.--keep a lookout for your buoys. having found them, heave-to to windward of them, send a boat with a strong warp and bend it to the slip-rope buoy, take the other end to the capstan and walk the ship up to the buoy. take the slip-rope through the chock, forward, and heave on it until you get the chain, where the slip-rope was bent to it, under foot. make well fast the slip-rope, then fish the buoy at the end of the chain, haul up on that buoy-rope, and get the end of the chain. rouse it in through the hawse-hole and shackle it. heave taut, until the bend of the slip-rope is above the water, then take the other end round aft and make it fast at the quarter-port again. pass in the buoy-rope for the end of the chain, and you are all ready for slipping again. chapter xvi. getting under way. to unmoor. getting under way from a single anchor. to cat and fish. to get under way with a wind blowing directly out, and riding head to it;--with a rock or shoal close astern;--when riding head to wind and tide, and to stand out close-hauled;--wind-rode, with a weather tide;--tide-rode, casting to windward;--tide-rode, wearing round. unmoor.--pay out on your riding cable, heaving in the slack of the other. when the other is short, trip it, cat and fish, and heave in on your riding cable. instead of this method, the anchor which you are not riding by may be weighed, if it is a small one, by the long boat. send the long boat out over the anchor, take aboard the buoy-rope, carrying it over the roller in the boat's stern, or through the end of a davit, clap the watch-tackle to it, and weigh it out of the ground. this done, and the buoy-rope and tackle secured to the boat, heave in on the chain on board, which will bring the anchor alongside, the boat approaching at the same time. when under the bow, cast off the fasts to the boat, heave up the anchor, cat and fish. getting under way from a single anchor.--it is the duty of the chief mate to see all ready forward for getting under way; the rigging fair for making sail, the cat and fish-tackles rove, and the fish-davit at hand. heave short on your chain and pawl the windlass. loose all the sails, if the wind is light, and sheet home and hoist up topsails, topgallant sails, and royals. if there is a stiff breeze, set topsails alone, whole or reefed. you should always, if it will answer, cast on the opposite side from your anchor; that is, if you are riding by your starboard anchor, cast to port. brace your head yards aback and your after yards full, for the tack you mean to cast upon. the sails being set, man the windlass again, give her a sheer with the helm, and trip your anchor. the mate reports when it is away. as soon as it is away, hoist the jib. the fore topsail aback will pay her head off. put the helm for stern-board. when her head is off enough, fill away the head yards and haul out the spanker, shifting the helm for headway. trim the yards for your course, and make sail on her. if the wind is light and the sea smooth, you may cat and fish your anchor after you get under way; but it is best in a rough sea to keep the vessel hove-to until the anchor is catted and fished. to cat and fish an anchor.--when the anchor is lifted and brought under foot, pawl the windlass, keeping a good hold on the chain. overhaul down the cat-block and hook it to the ring of the anchor. stretch along the cat-fall and let all hands tally on. set taut on the cat-tackle and pay out a little chain. hoist away the anchor to the cat-head, and belay the fall. pass the cat-stopper through the ring of the anchor, through the chock, belay it to the cat-tail, and seize it to its own part. overhaul down the fish-tackle, hook the lower block to the pennant, and hook the fish-hook to the inner fluke of the anchor. rig out your fish-davit across the forecastle, and put the bight of the pennant into the sheave-hole. get a guy over it, near the outer end, to keep it down, and another at the inner end, to keep it out. get the shoe over the side, to fend off the bill of the anchor. hoist the fluke well up, pass the shank-painter under the inner arm and shank, bring it inboard, and belay and stop it to the timber-heads. rig in the davit, unreeve the cat-fall and fish-tackle. a vessel may sometimes be got under way to advantage with the jib and spanker; particularly if the wind is blowing directly out of the harbor. heave the anchor up at once. when it has broken ground, hoist the jib, and, as she pays off, haul out the spanker. keep her under this sail until the anchor is catted and fished, then make sail and stand out. to get under way, with a wind blowing directly out, and riding head to it.--suppose the ship to have her starboard anchor down. heave short and clear away the jib, and put the helm to port. heave again until the anchor is up to the bows. cat and fish. when the anchor is a-weigh, hoist the jib. let her pay off under the jib. when she gathers headway, shift the helm, and let fall the sails. when she gets before it, sheet home and hoist the topsails, set the foresail, and haul down the jib. make sail aloft. to get under way, riding head to the wind, with a rock or shoal close astern.--suppose you wish to cast the ship on the starboard tack. heave in a safe scope on the chain, and run out a kedge with a hawser from the starboard bow. cast off the yard-arm gaskets and mast-head the topsails, keeping the bunts fast. heave taut on the hawser, and brace the yards up for the starboard tack fore and aft, hauling the jib sheet to windward. heave up the anchor, taking in the slack of the hawser, cat it, pass the stopper, and have all ready for letting go. haul ahead on the hawser, and as soon as the kedge is short a-peak or comes home, sheet home the topsails, run up the jib, and put the helm a-starboard. as soon as the jib fills, run the kedge up and take it in. when the topsails take and she gathers headway, draw the jib, set the spanker, board fore and main tacks, haul aft sheets, and right the helm. if she falls off too rapidly when the topsails take, give her the spanker and mainsail, easing off the jib sheet. when she comes to, haul aft the jib sheet and board the fore tack. if, when the kedge is a-weigh, she falls off on the wrong side, let go the anchor. to get under way, riding head to wind and tide, and to stand out close-hauled.--suppose you wish to cast to port. heave short, keeping the helm a-starboard. set the topsails. brace up the after yards for the starboard tack, and back the head yards. man the windlass and heave up the anchor. when the anchor is a-weigh, hoist the jib. when she has payed off sufficiently, fill away the head yards, shift the helm for headway, set the spanker, and make sail. cat and fish, either before or after filling away. if you have no room to cast on either side, but have a vessel on each quarter, heave short, set the topsails, jib, and spanker, brace all the yards half up for the starboard tack, weigh the anchor, and put the helm to port. the tide acting on the rudder will sheer her head to starboard. when the sails take aback and give her sternway, the rudder and after sails will act against the head sails, and she will drift fairly down between the two vessels. keep her off or to, by the spanker and jib. when you are clear, cast to port; or, haul up the spanker, shiver the after yards, and let her go off before it. to get under way wind-rode, with a weather tide; that is, a tide setting to windward.--suppose you wish to cast to port. heave short, loose the sails, and set the topsails. square the after yards, and haul in the starboard head-braces. heave again, and, when you are a-weigh, put the helm to port and hoist the jib. when she has payed off enough, fill away the head yards and shift the helm for headway. to get under way, tide-rode, casting to windward.--suppose the wind to be a little on the starboard bow, and you wish to cast to starboard, standing out on the larboard tack. having hove short and set the topsails, brace up the after yards for the larboard tack, and brace the head yards aback. weigh the anchor, keeping your helm to port, and hauling the spanker boom well over to starboard. when she comes head to the wind, hoist the jib, with the sheet to port. shift the helm for sternway. as she falls off, draw the jib, fill the head yards, and shift the helm for headway. to get under way, tide-rode, wearing round.--suppose you have the wind on your starboard quarter, and are obliged to wear her round and stand out on the larboard tack. set the topsails, square the head yards, and shiver the after yards. when the anchor is a-weigh, put the helm hard a-starboard, and give her the foresail, if necessary. having headway, she will go round on her keel, and you may proceed as in wearing. if a vessel is in a confined situation, without room to cast by her sails or by the tide, she may be cast by a spring upon her cable, leading in at that which will be the weather quarter. the spring may be bent to the ring of the anchor before it is let go, or it may be seized to the cable just outside the hawse-hole. it will be remembered that when a vessel is riding head to the tide, the helm is to be put as though she had headway; and when the tide sets from astern, as though she had sternway. but you should be reminded that when you have the wind and tide both ahead, if the vessel, after you weigh your anchor, goes astern faster than the current, the helm must be used as for stern-board. dictionary of sea terms. aback. the situation of the sails when the wind presses their surfaces against the mast, and tends to force the vessel astern. abaft. toward the stern of a vessel. aboard. within a vessel. about. on the other tack. abreast. alongside of. side by side. accommodation. (see ladder.) a-cock-bill. the situation of the yards when they are topped up at an angle with the deck. the situation of an anchor when it hangs to the cathead by the ring only. adrift. broken from moorings or fasts. without fasts. afloat. resting on the surface of the water. afore. forward. the opposite of abaft. aft--after. near the stern. aground. touching the bottom. ahead. in the direction of the vessel's head. _wind ahead_ is from the direction toward which the vessel's head points. a-hull. the situation of a vessel when she lies with all her sails furled and her helm lashed a-lee. a-lee. the situation of the helm when it is put in the opposite direction from that in which the wind blows. all-aback. when all the sails are aback. all hands. the whole crew. all in the wind. when all the sails are shaking. aloft. above the deck. aloof. at a distance. amain. suddenly. at once. amidships. in the centre of the vessel; either with reference to her length or to her breadth. anchor. the machine by which, when dropped to the bottom, the vessel is held fast. anchor-watch. (see watch.) an-end. when a mast is perpendicular to the deck. a-peek. when the cable is hove taut so as to bring the vessel nearly over her anchor. the _yards_ are _a-peek_ when they are topped up by contrary lifts. apron. a piece of timber fixed behind the lower part of the stem, just above the fore end of the keel. a covering to the vent or lock of a cannon. arm. yard-arm. the extremity of a yard. also, the lower part of an anchor, crossing the shank and terminating in the flukes. arming. a piece of tallow put in the cavity and over the bottom of a lead-line. a-stern. in the direction of the stern. the opposite of ahead. a-taunt. (see taunt.) athwart. across. _athwart-ships._ across the line of the vessel's keel. _athwart-hawse._ across the direction of a vessel's head. across her cable. athwart-ships. across the length of a vessel. in opposition to fore-and-aft. a-trip. the situation of the anchor when it is raised clear of the ground. the same as a-weigh. avast, or 'vast. an order to stop; as, "avast heaving!" a-weather. the situation of the helm when it is put in the direction from which the wind blows. a-weigh. the same as a-trip. awning. a covering of canvass over a vessel's deck, or over a boat, to keep off sun or rain. back. _to back an anchor_, is to carry out a smaller one ahead of the one by which the vessel rides, to take off some of the strain. _to back a sail_, is to throw it aback. _to back and fill_, is alternately to back and fill the sails. backstays. stays running from a masthead to the vessel's side, slanting a little aft. (see stays.) bagpipe. _to bagpipe the mizzen_, is to lay it aback by bringing the sheet to the weather mizzen rigging. balance-reef. a reef in a spanker or fore-and-aft mainsail, which runs from the outer head-earing, diagonally, to the tack. it is the closest reef, and makes the sail triangular, or nearly so. bale. _to bale a boat_, is to throw water out of her. ballast. heavy material, as iron, lead, or stone, placed in the bottom of the hold, to keep a vessel from upsetting. _to freshen ballast_, is to shift it. coarse gravel is called _shingle ballast_. bank. a boat is _double banked_ when two oars, one opposite the other, are pulled by men seated on the same thwart. bar. a bank or shoal at the entrance of a harbor. _capstan-bars_ are heavy pieces of wood by which the capstan is hove round. bare-poles. the condition of a ship when she has no sail set. barge. a large double-banked boat, used by the commander of a vessel, in the navy. bark, or barque. (see plate 4.) a three-masted vessel, having her fore and main masts rigged like a ship's, and her mizzen mast like the main mast of a schooner, with no sail upon it but a spanker, and gaff topsail. barnacle. a shell-fish often found on a vessel's bottom. battens. thin strips of wood put around the hatches, to keep the tarpaulin down. also, put upon rigging to keep it from chafing. a large batten widened at the end, and put upon rigging, is called a _scotchman_. beacon. a post or buoy placed over a shoal or bank to warn vessels off. also as a signal-mark on land. beams. strong pieces of timber stretching across the vessel, to support the decks. _on the weather or lee beam_, is in a direction to windward or leeward, at right angles with the keel. _on beam-ends._ the situation of a vessel when turned over so that her beams are inclined toward the vertical. bear. an object _bears_ so and so, when it is in such a direction from the person looking. _to bear down_ upon a vessel, is to approach her from the windward. _to bear up_, is to put the helm up and keep a vessel off from her course, and move her to leeward. _to bear away_, is the same as to _bear up_; being applied to the vessel instead of to the tiller. _to bear-a-hand._ to make haste. bearing. the direction of an object from the person looking. the _bearings_ of a vessel, are the widest part of her below the plank-shear. that part of her hull which is on the water-line when she is at anchor and in her proper trim. beating. going toward the direction of the wind, by alternate tacks. becalm. to intercept the wind. a vessel or highland to windward is said to _becalm_ another. so one sail _becalms_ another. becket. a piece of rope placed so as to confine a spar or another rope. a handle made of rope, in the form of a circle, (as the handle of a chest,) is called a _becket_. bees. pieces of plank bolted to the outer end of the bowsprit, to reeve the foretopmast stays through. belay. to make a rope fast by turns round a pin or coil, without hitching or seizing it. bend. to make fast. _to bend a sail_, is to make it fast to the yard. _to bend a cable_, is to make it fast to the anchor. _a bend_, is a knot by which one rope is made fast to another. bends. (see plate 3.) the strongest part of a vessel's side, to which the beams, knees, and foot-hooks are bolted. the part between the water's edge and the bulwarks. beneaped. (see neaped.) bentick shrouds. formerly used, and extending from the futtock-staves to the opposite channels. berth. the place where a vessel lies. the place in which a man sleeps. between-decks. the space between any two decks of a ship. bibbs. pieces of timber bolted to the hounds of a mast, to support the trestle-trees. bight. the double part of a rope when it is folded; in contradistinction from the ends. any part of a rope may be called the bight, except the ends. also, a bend in the shore, making a small bay or inlet. bilge. that part of the floor of a ship upon which she would rest if aground; being the part near the keel which is more in a horizontal than a perpendicular line. _bilge-ways._ pieces of timber bolted together and placed under the bilge, in launching. _bilged._ when the bilge is broken in. _bilge water._ water which settles in the bilge. _bilge._ the largest circumference of a cask. bill. the point at the extremity of the fluke of an anchor. billet-head. (see head.) binnacle. a box near the helm, containing the compass. bitts. perpendicular pieces of timber going through the deck, placed to secure anything to. the cables are fastened to them, if there is no windlass. there are also _bitts_ to secure the windlass, and on each side of the heel of the bowsprit. bitter, or bitter-end. that part of the cable which is abaft the bitts. blackwall hitch. (see plate 5 and page 49.) blade. the flat part of an oar, which goes into the water. block. a piece of wood with sheaves, or wheels, in it, through which the running rigging passes, to add to the purchase. (see page 53.) bluff. a _bluff-bowed_ or _bluff-headed_ vessel is one which is full and square forward. board. the stretch a vessel makes upon one tack, when she is beating. _stern-board._ when a vessel goes stern foremost. _by the board._ said of masts, when they fall over the side. boat-hook. an iron hook with a long staff, held in the hand, by which a boat is kept fast to a wharf, or vessel. boatswain. (pronounced _bo-s'n_.) a warrant officer in the navy, who has charge of the rigging, and calls the crew to duty. bobstays. used to confine the bowsprit down to the stem or cutwater. bolsters. pieces of soft wood, covered with canvass, placed on the trestle-trees, for the eyes of the rigging to rest upon. bolts. long cylindrical bars of iron or copper, used to secure or unite the different parts of a vessel. bolt-rope. the rope which goes round a sail, and to which the canvass is sewed. bonnet. an additional piece of canvass attached to the foot of a jib, or a schooner's foresail, by lacings. taken off in bad weather. boom. a spar used to extend the foot of a fore-and-aft sail or studdingsail. _boom-irons._ iron rings on the yards, through which the studdingsail booms traverse. boot-topping. scraping off the grass, or other matter, which may be on a vessel's bottom, and daubing it over with tallow, or some mixture. bound. _wind-bound._ when a vessel is kept in port by a head wind. bow. the rounded part of a vessel, forward. bower. a working anchor, the cable of which is bent and reeved through the hawse-hole. _best bower_ is the larger of the two bowers. (see page 16.) bow-grace. a frame of old rope or junk, placed round the bows and sides of a vessel, to prevent the ice from injuring her. bowline. (pronounced _bo-lin_.) a rope leading forward from the leech of a square sail, to keep the leech well out when sailing close-hauled. a vessel is said to be _on a bowline_, or _on a taut bowline_, when she is close-hauled. _bowline-bridle._ the span on the leech of the sail to which the bowline is toggled. _bowline-knot._ (see plate 5 and page 49.) bowse. to pull upon a tackle. bowsprit. (pronounced _bo-sprit_.) a large and strong spar, standing from the bows of a vessel. (see plate 1.) box-hauling. wearing a vessel by backing the head sails. (see page 75.) box. _to box the compass_, is to repeat the thirty-two points of the compass in order. brace. a rope by which a yard is turned about. _to brace a yard_, is to turn it about horizontally. _to brace up_, is to lay the yard more fore-and-aft. _to brace in_, is to lay it nearer square. _to brace aback._ (see aback.) _to brace to_, is to brace the head yards a little aback, in tacking or wearing. brails. ropes by which the foot or lower corners of fore-and-aft sails are hauled up. brake. the handle of a ship's pump. break. _to break bulk_, is to begin to unload. _to break ground_, is to lift the anchor from the bottom. _to break shear_, is when a vessel, at anchor, in tending, is forced the wrong way by the wind or current, so that she does not lie so well for keeping herself clear of her anchor. breaker. a small cask containing water. breaming. cleaning a ship's bottom by burning. breast-fast. a rope used to confine a vessel sideways to a wharf, or to some other vessel. breast-hooks. knees placed in the forward part of a vessel, across the stem, to unite the bows on each side. (see plate 3.) breast-rope. a rope passed round a man in the chains, while sounding. breech. the outside angle of a knee-timber. the after end of a gun. breeching. a strong rope used to secure the breech of a gun to the ship's side. bridle. spans of rope attached to the leeches of square sails, to which the bowlines are made fast. _bridle-port._ the foremost port, used for stowing the anchors. brig. a square-rigged vessel, with two masts. an _hermaphrodite brig_ has a brig's foremast and a schooner's mainmast. (see plate 4.) broach-to. to fall off so much, when going free, as to bring the wind round on the other quarter and take the sails aback. broadside. the whole side of a vessel. broken-backed. the state of a vessel when she is so loosened as to droop at each end. bucklers. blocks of wood made to fit in the hawse-holes, or holes in the half-ports, when at sea. those in the hawse-holes are sometimes called _hawse-blocks_. bulge. (see bilge.) bulk. the whole cargo when stowed. _stowed in bulk_, is when goods are stowed loose, instead of being stowed in casks or bags. (see break bulk.) bulk head. temporary partitions of boards to separate different parts of a vessel. bull. a sailor's term for a small keg, holding a gallon or two. bull's eye. (see page 53.) a small piece of stout wood with a hole in the centre for a stay or rope to reeve through, without any sheave, and with a groove round it for the strap, which is usually of iron. also, a piece of thick glass inserted in the deck to let light below. bulwarks. the wood work round a vessel, above her deck, consisting of boards fastened to stanchions and timber-heads. bum-boats. boats which lie alongside a vessel in port with provisions and fruit to sell. bumpkin. pieces of timber projecting from the vessel, to board the fore tack to; and from each quarter, for the main brace-blocks. bunt. the middle of a sail. buntine. (pronounced _buntin_.) thin woollen stuff of which a ship's colors are made. buntlines. ropes used for hauling up the body of a sail. buoy. a floating cask, or piece of wood, attached by a rope to an anchor, to show its position. also, floated over a shoal, or other dangerous place as a beacon. _to stream a buoy_, is to drop it into the water before letting go the anchor. a buoy is said to _watch_, when it floats upon the surface of the water. burton. a tackle, rove in a particular manner. _a single spanish burton_ has three single blocks, or two single blocks and a hook in the bight of one of the running parts. _a double spanish burton_ has three double blocks. (see page 54.) butt. the end of a plank where it unites with the end of another. _scuttle-butt._ a cask with a hole cut in its bilge, and kept on deck to hold water for daily use. buttock. that part of the convexity of a vessel abaft, under the stern, contained between the counter above and the after part of the bilge below, and between the quarter on the side and the stern-post. (see plate 3.) by. _by the head._ said of a vessel when her head is lower in the water than her stern. if her stern is lower, she is _by the stern_. _by the lee._ (see lee. see run.) cabin. the after part of a vessel, in which the officers live. cable. a large, strong rope, made fast to the anchor, by which the vessel is secured. it is usually 120 fathoms in length. cable-tier. (see tier.) caboose. a house on deck, where the cooking is done. commonly called the _galley_. calk. (see caulk.) cambered. when the floor of a vessel is higher at the middle than towards the stem and stern. camel. a machine used for lifting vessels over a shoal or bar. camfering. taking off an angle or edge of a timber. can-hooks. slings with flat hooks at each end, used for hoisting barrels or light casks, the hooks being placed round the chimes, and the purchase hooked to the centre of the slings. small ones are usually wholly of iron. cant-pieces. pieces of timber fastened to the angles of fishes and side-trees, to supply any part that may prove rotten. cant-timbers. timbers at the two ends of a vessel, raised obliquely from the keel. _lower half cants._ those parts of frames situated forward and abaft the square frames, or the floor timbers which cross the keel. canvass. the cloth of which sails are made. no. 1 is the coarsest and strongest. cap. a thick, strong block of wood with two holes through it, one square and the other round, used to confine together the head of one mast and the lower part of the mast next above it. (see plate 1.) capsize. to overturn. capstan. a machine placed perpendicularly in the deck, and used for a strong purchase in heaving or hoisting. men-of-war weigh their anchors by capstans. merchant vessels use a windlass. (see bar.) careen. to heave a vessel down upon her side by purchases upon the masts. to lie over, when sailing on the wind. carlings. short and small pieces of timber running between the beams. carrick-bend. a kind of knot. (see plate 5 and page 50.) _carrick-bitts_ are the windlass bitts. carry-away. to break a spar, or part a rope. cast. to pay a vessel's head off, in getting under way, on the tack she is to sail upon. cat. the tackle used to hoist the anchor up to the cat-head. _cat-block_, the block of this tackle. cat-harpin. an iron leg used to confine the upper part of the rigging to the mast. cat-head. large timbers projecting from the vessel's side, to which the anchor is raised and secured. cat's-paw. a kind of hitch made in a rope. (see plate 5 and page 50.) a light current of air seen on the surface of the water during a calm. caulk. to fill the seams of a vessel with oakum. cavil. (see kevel.) ceiling. the inside planking of a vessel. chafe. to rub the surface of a rope or spar. _chafing-gear_ is the stuff put upon the rigging and spars to prevent their chafing. chains. (see plate 1.) strong links or plates of iron, the lower ends of which are bolted through the ship's side to the timbers. their upper ends are secured to the bottom of the dead-eyes in the channels. also, used familiarly for the channels, which see. the chain cable of a vessel is called familiarly her _chain_. _rudder-chains_ lead from the outer and upper end of the rudder to the quarters. they are hung slack. chain-plates. plates of iron bolted to the side of a ship, to which the chains and dead-eyes of the lower rigging are connected. channels. broad pieces of plank bolted edgewise to the outside of a vessel. used for spreading the lower rigging. (see chains.) chapelling. wearing a ship round, when taken aback, without bracing the head yards. (see page 80.) check. a term sometimes used for slacking off a little on a brace, and then belaying it. cheeks. the projections on each side of a mast, upon which the trestle-trees rest. the sides of the shell of a block. cheerly! quickly, with a will. chess-trees. pieces of oak, fitted to the sides of a vessel, abaft the fore chains, with a sheave in them, to board the main tack to. now out of use. chimes. the ends of the staves of a cask, where they come out beyond the head of the cask. chinse. to thrust oakum into seams with a small iron. chock. a wedge used to secure anything with, or for anything to rest upon. the long boat rests upon two large _chocks_, when it is stowed. _chock-a-block._ when the lower block of a tackle is run close up to the upper one, so that you can hoist no higher. this is also called hoisting up _two-blocks_. cistern. an apartment in the hold of a vessel, having a pipe leading out through the side, with a cock, by which water may be let into her. clamps. thick planks on the inside of vessels, to support the ends of beams. also, crooked plates of iron fore-locked upon the trunnions of cannon. any plate of iron made to turn, open, and shut so as to confine a spar or boom, as, a studdingsail boom, or a boat's mast. clasp-hook. (see clove-hook.) cleat. a piece of wood used in different parts of a vessel to belay ropes to. clew. the lower corner of square sails, and the after corner of a fore-and-aft sail. _to clew up_, is to haul up the clew of a sail. clew-garnet. a rope that hauls up the clew of a foresail or mainsail in a square-rigged vessel. clewline. a rope that hauls up the clew of a square sail. the clew-garnet is the clewline of a course. clinch. a half-hitch, stopped to its own part. close-hauled. applied to a vessel which is sailing with her yards braced up so as to get as much as possible to windward. the same as _on a taut bowline_, _full and by_, _on the wind_, &c. clove-hitch. two half-hitches round a spar or other rope. (see plate 5 and page 48.) clove-hook. an iron clasp, in two parts, moving upon the same pivot, and overlapping one another. used for bending chain sheets to the clews of sails. club-haul. to bring a vessel's head round on the other tack, by letting go the lee anchor and cutting or slipping the cable. (see page 76.) clubbing. drifting down a current with an anchor out. (see page 77.) coaking. uniting pieces of spar by means of tabular projections, formed by cutting away the solid of one piece into a hollow, so as to make a projection in the other, in such a manner that they may correctly fit, the butts preventing the pieces from drawing asunder. _coaks_ are fitted into the beams and knees of vessels to prevent their drawing. coal tar. tar made from bituminous coal. coamings. raised work round the hatches, to prevent water going down into the hold. coat. _mast-coat_ is a piece of canvass, tarred or painted, placed round a mast or bowsprit, where it enters the deck. cock-bill. to cock-bill a yard or anchor. (see a-cock-bill.) cock-pit. an apartment in a vessel of war, used by the surgeon during an action. codline. an eighteen thread line. coxswain. (pronounced _cox'n_.) the person who steers a boat and has charge of her. coil. to lay a rope up in a ring, with one turn or fake over another. _a coil_ is a quantity of rope laid up in that manner. collar. an eye in the end or bight of a shroud or stay, to go over the mast-head. come. _come home_, said of an anchor when it is broken from the ground and drags. _to come up_ a rope or tackle, is to slack it off. companion. a wooden covering over the staircase to a cabin. _companion-way_, the staircase to the cabin. _companion-ladder._ the ladder leading from the poop to the main deck. compass. the instrument which tells the course of a vessel. _compass-timbers_ are such as are curved or arched. concluding-line. a small line leading through the centre of the steps of a rope or jacob's ladder. conning, or cunning. directing the helmsman in steering a vessel. counter. (see plate 3.) that part of a vessel between the bottom of the stern and the wing-transom and buttock. _counter-timbers_ are short timbers put in to strengthen the counter. _to counter-brace_ yards, is to brace the head-yards one way and the after-yards another. courses. the common term for the sails that hang from a ship's lower yards. the foresail is called the _fore course_ and the mainsail the _main course_. cranes. pieces of iron or timber at the vessel's sides, used to stow boats or spars upon. a machine used at a wharf for hoisting. crank. the condition of a vessel when she is inclined to lean over a great deal and cannot bear much sail. this may be owing to her construction or to her stowage. creeper. an iron instrument, like a grapnell, with four claws, used for dragging the bottom of a harbor or river, to find anything lost. cringle. a short piece of rope with each end spliced into the bolt-rope of a sail, confining an iron ring or thimble. cross-bars. round bars of iron, bent at each end, used as levers to turn the shank of an anchor. cross-chocks. pieces of timber fayed across the dead-wood amidships, to make good the deficiency of the heels of the lower futtocks. cross-jack. (pronounced _croj-jack_.) the cross-jack yard is the lower yard on the mizzen mast. (see plate 1.) cross-pawls. pieces of timber that keep a vessel together while in her frames. cross-piece. a piece of timber connecting two bitts. cross-spales. pieces of timber placed across a vessel, and nailed to the frames, to keep the sides together until the knees are bolted. cross-trees. (see plate 1.) pieces of oak supported by the cheeks and trestle-trees, at the mast-heads, to sustain the tops on the lower mast, and to spread the topgallant rigging at the topmast-head. crow-foot. a number of small lines rove through the uvrou to suspend an awning by. crown of an anchor, is the place where the arms are joined to the shank. _to crown a knot_, is to pass the strands over and under each other above the knot. (see plate 5, page 46.) crutch. a knee or piece of knee-timber, placed inside of a vessel, to secure the heels of the cant-timbers abaft. also, the chock upon which the spanker-boom rests when the sail is not set. cuckold's neck. a knot by which a rope is secured to a spar, the two parts of the rope crossing each other, and seized together. cuddy. a cabin in the fore part of a boat. cuntline. the space between the bilges of two casks, stowed side by side. where one cask is set upon the cuntline between two others, they are stowed _bilge and cuntline_. cut-water. the foremost part of a vessel's prow, which projects forward of the bows. cutter. a small boat. also, a kind of sloop. dagger. a piece of timber crossing all the puppets of the bilge-ways to keep them together. _dagger-knees._ knees placed obliquely, to avoid a port. davits. pieces of timber or iron, with sheaves or blocks at their ends, projecting over a vessel's sides or stern, to hoist boats up to. also, a spar with a roller or sheave at its end, used for fishing the anchor, called a _fish-davit_. dead-eye. a circular block of wood, with three holes through it, for the lanyards of rigging to reeve through, without sheaves, and with a groove round it for an iron strap. (see page 59.) dead-flat. one of the bends, amidships. dead-lights. ports placed in the cabin windows in bad weather. dead reckoning. a reckoning kept by observing a vessel's courses and distances by the log, to ascertain her position. dead-rising, or rising-line. those parts of a vessel's floor, throughout her whole length, where the floor-timber is terminated upon the lower futtock. dead-water. the eddy under a vessel's counter. dead-wood. blocks of timber, laid upon each end of the keel, where the vessel narrows. deck. the planked floor of a vessel, resting upon her beams. deck-stopper. a stopper used for securing the cable forward of the windlass or capstan, while it is overhauled. (see stopper.) deep-sea-lead. (pronounced _dipsey_.) (see page 17.) the lead used in sounding at great depths. departure. the easting or westing made by a vessel. the bearing of an object on the coast from which a vessel commences her dead reckoning. derrick. a single spar, supported by stays and guys, to which a purchase is attached, used to unload vessels, and for hoisting. dog. a short iron bar, with a fang or teeth at one end, and a ring at the other. used for a purchase, the fang being placed against a beam or knee, and the block of a tackle hooked to the ring. dog-vane. a small vane, made of feathers or buntin, to show the direction of the wind. dog-watches. half watches of two hours each, from 4 to 6, and from 6 to 8, p.m. (see watch.) dolphin. a rope or strap round a mast to support the puddening, where the lower yards rest in the slings. also, a spar or buoy with a large ring in it, secured to an anchor, to which vessels may bend their cables. dolphin-striker. the martingale. (see plate i.) douse. to lower suddenly. dowelling. a method of coaking, by letting pieces into the solid, or uniting two pieces together by tenons. downhaul. a rope used to haul down jibs, staysails, and studdingsails. drabler. a piece of canvass laced to the bonnet of a sail, to give it more drop. drag. a machine with a bag net, used for dragging on the bottom for anything lost. draught. the depth of water which a vessel requires to float her. draw. a sail _draws_ when it is filled by the wind. _to draw a jib_, is to shift it over the stay to leeward, when it is aback. drifts. those pieces in the sheer-draught where the rails are cut off. drive. to scud before a gale, or to drift in a current. driver. a spanker. drop. the depth of a sail, from head to foot, amidships. drum-head. the top of the capstan. dub. to reduce the end of a timber. duck. a kind of cloth, lighter and finer than canvass; used for small sails. dunnage. loose wood or other matters, placed on the bottom of the hold, above the ballast, to stow cargo upon. earing. a rope attached to the cringle of a sail, by which it is bent or reefed. eiking. a piece of wood fitted to make good a deficiency in length. elbow. two crosses in a hawse. (see page 89.) escutcheon. the part of a vessel's stern where her name is written. even-keel. the situation of a vessel when she is so trimmed that she sits evenly upon the water, neither end being down more than the other. euvrou. a piece of wood, by which the legs of the crow-foot to an awning are extended. (see uvrou.) eye. the circular part of a shroud or stay, where it goes over a mast. _eye-bolt._ a long iron bar, having an eye at one end, driven through a vessel's deck or side into a timber or beam, with the eye remaining out, to hook a tackle to. if there is a ring through this eye, it is called a _ring-bolt_. _an eye-splice_ is a certain kind of splice made with the end of a rope. (see plate 5 and page 45.) _eyelet-hole._ a hole made in a sail for a cringle or roband to go through. _the eyes of a vessel._ a familiar phrase for the forward part. face-pieces. pieces of wood wrought on the fore part of the knee of the head. facing. letting one piece of timber into another with a rabbet. fag. a rope is _fagged_ when the end is untwisted. fair-leader. a strip of board or plank, with holes in it, for running rigging to lead through. also, a block or thimble used for the same purpose. fake. one of the circles or rings made in coiling a rope. fall. that part of a tackle to which the power is applied in hoisting. false keel. pieces of timber secured under the main keel of vessels. fancy-line. a line rove through a block at the jaws of a gaff, used as a downhaul. also, a line used for cross-hauling the lee topping-lift. fashion-pieces. the aftermost timbers, terminating the breadth and forming the shape of the stern. fast. a rope by which a vessel is secured to a wharf. there are _bow_ or _head_, _breast_, _quarter_, and _stern_ fasts. fathom. six feet. feather. _to feather an oar_ in rowing, is to turn the blade horizontally with the top aft as it comes out of the water. feather-edged. planks which have one side thicker than another. fenders. pieces of rope or wood hung over the side of a vessel or boat, to protect it from chafing. the fenders of a neat boat are usually made of canvass and stuffed. fid. a block of wood or iron, placed through the hole in the heel of a mast, and resting on the trestle-trees of the mast below. this supports the mast. also, a wooden pin, tapered, used in splicing large ropes, in opening eyes, &c. fiddle-block. a long shell, having one sheave over the other, and the lower smaller than the upper. fiddle-head. (see head.) fife-rail. the rail going round a mast. figure-head. a carved head or full-length figure, over the cut-water. fillings. pieces of timber used to make the curve fair for the mouldings, between the edges of the fish-front and the sides of the mast. filler. (see made mast.) finishing. carved ornaments of the quarter-galley, below the second counter, and above the upper lights. fish. to raise the flukes of an anchor upon the gunwale. also, to strengthen a spar when sprung or weakened, by putting in or fastening on another piece. _fish-front_, _fishes-sides_. (see made mast.) fish-davit. the davit used for fishing an anchor. fish-hook. a hook with a pennant, to the end of which the fish-tackle is hooked. fish-tackle. the tackle used for fishing an anchor. flare. when the vessel's sides go out from the perpendicular. in opposition to _falling-home_ or _tumbling-in_. flat. a sheet is said to be hauled _flat_, when it is hauled down close. _flat-aback_, when a sail is blown with its after surface against the mast. fleet. to come up a tackle and draw the blocks apart, for another pull, after they have been hauled _two-blocks_. _fleet ho!_ the order given at such times. also, to shift the position of a block or fall, so as to haul to more advantage. flemish coil. (see french-fake.) flemish-eye. a kind of eye-splice. (see plate 5 and page 45.) flemish-horse. an additional foot-rope at the ends of topsail yards. floor. the bottom of a vessel, on each side of the keelson. floor timbers. those timbers of a vessel which are placed across the keel. (see plate 3.) flowing sheet. when a vessel has the wind free, and the lee clews eased off. flukes. the broad triangular plates at the extremity of the arms of an anchor, terminating in a point called the _bill_. fly. that part of a flag which extends from the union to the extreme end. (see union.) foot. the lower end of a mast or sail. (see fore-foot.) foot-rope. the rope stretching along a yard, upon which men stand when reefing or furling, formerly called _horses_. foot-waling. the inside planks or lining of a vessel, over the floor-timbers. fore. used to distinguish the forward part of a vessel, or things in that direction; as, _fore mast_, _fore hatch_, in opposition to _aft_ or _after_. fore-and-aft. lengthwise with the vessel. in opposition to _athwart-ships_. (see sails.) forecastle. that part of the upper deck forward of the fore mast; or, as some say, forward of the after part of the fore channels. (see plate 1.) also, the forward part of the vessel, under the deck, where the sailors live, in merchant vessels. fore-foot. a piece of timber at the forward extremity of the keel, upon which the lower end of the stem rests. (see plate 3.) fore-ganger. a short piece of rope grafted on a harpoon, to which the line is bent. fore-lock. a flat piece of iron, driven through the end of a bolt, to prevent its drawing. fore mast. the forward mast of all vessels. (see plate 1.) forereach. to shoot ahead, especially when going in stays. fore-runner. a piece of rag, terminating the stray-line of the log-line. forge. _to forge ahead_, to shoot ahead; as, in coming to anchor, after the sails are furled. (see forereach.) formers. pieces of wood used for shaping cartridges or wads. fother, or fodder. to draw a sail, filled with oakum, under a vessel's bottom, in order to stop a leak. foul. the term for the opposite of clear. foul anchor. when the cable has a turn round the anchor. foul hawse. when the two cables are crossed or twisted, outside the stem. founder. a vessel _founders_, when she fills with water and sinks. fox. (see page 52.) made by twisting together two or more rope-yarns. _a spanish fox_ is made by untwisting a single yarn and laying it up the contrary way. frap. to pass ropes round a sail to keep it from blowing loose. also, to draw ropes round a vessel which is weakened, to keep her together. free. a vessel is going _free_, when she has a fair wind and her yards braced in. a vessel is said to be _free_, when the water has been pumped out of her. freshen. to relieve a rope, by moving its place; as, to _freshen the nip_ of a stay, is to shift it, so as to prevent its chafing through. _to freshen ballast_, is to alter its position. french-fake. to coil a rope with each fake outside of the other, beginning in the middle. if there are to be riding fakes, they begin outside and go in; and so on. this is called a _flemish coil_. full-and-by. sailing close-hauled on a wind. _full-and-by!_ the order given to the man at the helm to keep the sails full and at the same time close to the wind. furl. to roll a sail up snugly on a yard or boom, and secure it. futtock-plates. iron plates crossing the sides of the top-rim perpendicularly. the dead-eyes of the topmast rigging are fitted to their upper ends, and the futtock-shrouds to their lower ends. futtock-shrouds. short shrouds, leading from the lower ends of the futtock-plates to a bend round the lower mast, just below the top. futtock-staff. a short piece of wood or iron, seized across the upper part of the rigging, to which the catharpin legs are secured. futtock-timbers. (see plate 3.) those timbers between the floor and naval timbers, and the top-timbers. there are two--the _lower_, which is over the floor, and the _middle_, which is over the naval timber. the naval timber is sometimes called the _ground futtock_. gaff. a spar, to which the head of a fore-and-aft sail is bent. (see plate 1.) gaff-topsail. a light sail set over a gaff, the foot being spread by it. gage. the depth of water of a vessel. also, her position as to another vessel, as having the _weather_ or _lee gage_. galley. the place where the cooking is done. gallows-bitts. a strong frame raised amidships, to support spare spars, &c., in port. gammoning. (see plate 1.) the lashing by which the bowsprit is secured to the cut-water. gang-casks. small casks, used for bringing water on board in boats. gangway. (see plate 1.) that part of a vessel's side, amidships, where people pass in and out of the vessel. gantline. (see girtline.) garboard-streak. (see plate 3.) the range of planks next to the keel, on each side. garland. a large rope, strap or grommet, lashed to a spar when hoisting it inboard. garnet. a purchase on the main stay, for hoisting cargo. gaskets. ropes or pieces of plated stuff, used to secure a sail to the yard or boom when it is furled. they are called a _bunt_, _quarter_, or _yard-arm gasket_, according to their position on the yard. gimblet. to turn an anchor round by its stock. to turn anything round on its end. girt. the situation of a vessel when her cables are too taut. girtline. a rope rove through a single block aloft, making a whip purchase. commonly used to hoist rigging by, in fitting it. give way! an order to men in a boat to pull with more force, or to begin pulling. the same as, _lay out on your oars!_ or, _lay out!_ glut. a piece of canvass sewed into the centre of a sail near the head. it has an eyelet-hole in the middle for the bunt-jigger or becket to go through. gob-line, or gaub-line. a rope leading from the martingale inboard. the same as _back-rope_. goodgeon. (see gudgeon.) goose-neck. an iron ring fitted to the end of a yard or boom, for various purposes. goose-winged. the situation of a course when the buntlines and lee clew are hauled up, and the weather clew down. gores. the angles at one or both ends of such cloths as increase the breadth or depth of a sail. goring-cloths. pieces cut obliquely and put in to add to the breadth of a sail. grafting. (see page 52.) a manner of covering a rope by weaving together yarns. grains. an iron with four or more barbed points to it, used for striking small fish. grapnel. a small anchor with several claws, used to secure boats. grappling irons. crooked irons, used to seize and hold fast another vessel. grating. open lattice work of wood. used principally to cover hatches in good weather. greave. to clean a ship's bottom by burning. gripe. the outside timber of the fore-foot, under water, fastened to the lower stem-piece. (see plate 3.) a vessel _gripes_ when she tends to come up into the wind. gripes. bars of iron, with lanyards, rings and clews, by which a large boat is lashed to the ring-bolts of the deck. those for a quarter-boat are made of long strips of matting, going round her and set taut by a lanyard. grommet. (see plate 5 and page 46.) a ring formed of rope, by laying round a single strand. ground tackle. general term for anchors, cables, warps, springs, &c.; everything used in securing a vessel at anchor. ground-tier. the lowest tier of casks in a vessel's hold. guess-warp, or guess-rope. a rope fastened to a vessel or wharf, and used to tow a boat by; or to haul it out to the swinging-boom-end, when in port. gun-tackle purchase. a purchase made by two single blocks. (see page 54.) gunwale. (pronounced _gun-nel_.) the upper rail of a boat or vessel. guy. a rope attaching to anything to steady it, and bear it one way and another in hoisting. gybe. (pronounced _jibe_.) to shift over the boom of a fore-and-aft sail. hail. to speak or call to another vessel, or to men in a different part of a ship. halyards. ropes or tackles used for hoisting and lowering yards, gaffs, and sails. half-hitch. (see plate 5 and page 48.) hammock. a piece of canvass, hung at each end, in which seamen sleep. hand. to _hand_ a sail is to _furl_ it. _bear-a-hand_; make haste. _lend-a-hand_; assist. _hand-over-hand_; hauling rapidly on a rope, by putting one hand before the other alternately. hand-lead. (see page 17.) a small lead, used for sounding in rivers and harbors. handsomely. slowly, carefully. used for an order, as, "lower handsomely!" handspike. a long wooden bar, used for heaving at the windlass. handy billy. a watch-tackle. hanks. rings or hoops of wood, rope, or iron, round a stay, and seized to the luff of a fore-and-aft sail. harpings. the fore part of the wales, which encompass the bows of a vessel, and are fastened to the stem. (see plate 3.) harpoon. a spear used for striking whales and other fish. hatch, or hatchway. an opening in the deck to afford a passage up and down. the coverings over these openings are also called _hatches_. _hatch-bar_ is an iron bar going across the hatches to keep them down. haul. _haul her wind_, said of a vessel when she comes up close upon the wind. hawse. the situation of the cables before a vessel's stem, when moored. also, the distance upon the water a little in advance of the stem; as, a vessel sails _athwart the hawse_, or anchors _in the hawse_ of another. _open hawse._ when a vessel rides by two anchors, without any cross in her cables. hawse-hole. the hole in the bows through which the cable runs. hawse-pieces. timbers through which the hawse-holes are cut. hawse-block. a block of wood fitted into a hawse-hole at sea. hawser. a large rope used for various purposes, as warping, for a spring, &c. hawser-laid, or cable-laid rope, is rope laid with nine strands against the sun. (see plate 5 and page 43.) haze. a term for punishing a man by keeping him unnecessarily at work upon disagreeable or difficult duty. head. the work at the prow of a vessel. if it is a carved figure, it is called a _figure-head_; if simple carved work, bending over and out, a _billet-head_; and if bending in, like the head of a violin, a _fiddle-head_. also, the upper end of a mast, called a _mast-head_. (see by-the-head. see fast.) head-ledges. thwartship pieces that frame the hatchways. head-sails. a general name given to all sails that set forward of the fore-mast. heart. a block of wood in the shape of a heart, for stays to reeve through. heart-yarns. the centre yarns of a strand. heave short. to heave in on the cable until the vessel is nearly over her anchor. heave-to. to put a vessel in the position of lying-to. (see lie-to.) heave in stays. to go about in tacking. heaver. a short wooden bar, tapering at each end. used as a purchase. heel. the after part of the keel. also, the lower end of a mast or boom. also, the lower end of the stern-post. _to heel_, is to lie over on one side. heeling. the square part of the lower end of a mast, through which the fid-hole is made. helm. the machinery by which a vessel is steered, including the rudder, tiller, wheel, &c. applied more particularly, perhaps, to the tiller. helm-port. the hole in the counter through which the rudder-head passes. helm-port-transom. a piece of timber placed across the lower counter, inside, at the height of the helm-port, and bolted through every timber, for the security of that port. (see plate 3.) high and dry. the situation of a vessel when she is aground, above water mark. hitch. a peculiar manner of fastening ropes. (see plate 5 and page 48.) hog. a flat, rough broom, used for scrubbing the bottom of a vessel. hogged. the state of a vessel when, by any strain, she is made to droop at each end, bringing her centre up. hold. the interior of a vessel, where the cargo is stowed. hold water. to stop the progress of a boat by keeping the oar-blades in the water. holy-stone. a large stone, used for cleaning a ship's decks. home. the sheets of a sail are said to be _home_, when the clews are hauled chock out to the sheave-holes. an anchor _comes home_ when it is loosened from the ground and is hove in toward the vessel. hood. a covering for a companion hatch, skylight, &c. hood-ends, or hooding-ends, or whooden-ends. those ends of the planks which fit into the rabbets of the stem or stern-post. hook-and-butt. the scarfing, or laying the ends of timbers over each other. horns. the jaws of booms. also, the ends of cross-trees. horse. (see foot-rope.) hounds. those projections at the mast-head serving as shoulders for the top or trestle-trees to rest upon. house. to _house_ a mast, is to lower it about half its length, and secure it by lashing its heel to the mast below. (see page 37.) _to house a gun_, is to run it in clear of the port and secure it. housing, or house-line. (pronounced _houze-lin_.) a small cord made of three small yarns, and used for seizings. hull. the body of a vessel. (see a-hull.) in-and-out. a term sometimes used for the scantline of the timbers, the moulding way, and particularly for those bolts that are driven into the hanging and lodging knees, through the sides, which are called _in-and-out bolts_. inner-post. a piece brought on at the fore side of the main-post, and generally continued as high as the wing-transom, to seat the other transoms upon. irons. a ship is said to be _in irons_, when, in working, she will not cast one way or the other. jack. a common term for the _jack-cross-trees_. (see union.) jack-block. a block used in sending topgallant masts up and down. jack-cross-trees. (see plate 1.) iron cross-trees at the head of long topgallant masts. jack-staff. a short staff, raised at the bowsprit cap, upon which the union jack is hoisted. jack-stays. ropes stretched taut along a yard to bend the head of the sail to. also, long strips of wood or iron, used now for the same purpose. jack-screw. a purchase, used for stowing cotton. jacob's ladder. a ladder made of rope, with wooden steps. jaws. the inner ends of booms or gaffs, hollowed in. jeers. tackles for hoisting the lower yards. jewel-blocks. single blocks at the yard-arms, through which the studdingsail halyards lead. jib. (see plate 2.) a triangular sail set on a stay, forward. _flying-jib_ sets outside of the jib; and the _jib-o'-jib_ outside of that. jib-boom. (see plate 1.) the boom, rigged out beyond the bowsprit, to which the tack of the jib is lashed. jigger. a small tackle, used about decks or aloft. jolly-boat. a small boat, usually hoisted at the stern. junk. condemned rope, cut up and used for making mats, swabs, oakum, &c. jury-mast. a temporary mast, rigged at sea, in place of one lost. keckling. old rope wound round cables, to keep them from chafing. (see rounding.) kedge. a small anchor, with an iron stock, used for warping. _to kedge_, is to warp a vessel ahead by a kedge and hawser. keel. (see plate 3.) the lowest and principal timber of a vessel, running fore-and-aft its whole length, and supporting the whole frame. it is composed of several pieces, placed lengthwise, and scarfed and bolted together. (see false keel.) keel-haul. to haul a man under a vessel's bottom, by ropes at the yard-arms on each side. formerly practised as a punishment in ships of war. keelson. (see plate 3.) a timber placed over the keel on the floor-timbers, and running parallel with it. kentledge. pig-iron ballast, laid each side of the keelson. kevel, or cavil. a strong piece of wood, bolted to some timber or stanchion, used for belaying large ropes to. kevel-heads. timber-heads, used as kevels. kink. a twist in a rope. knees. (see plate 3.) crooked pieces of timber, having two arms, used to connect the beams of a vessel with her timbers. (see dagger.) _lodging-knees_, are placed horizontally, having one arm bolted to a beam, and the other across two of the timbers. _knee of the head_, is placed forward of the stem, and supports the figure-head. knight-heads, or bollard-timbers. the timbers next the stem on each side, and continued high enough to form a support for the bowsprit. (see plate 3.) knittles, or nettles. (see page 51.) the halves of two adjoining yarns in a rope, twisted up together, for pointing or grafting. also, small line used for seizings and for hammock-clews. knock-off! an order to leave off work. knot. a division on the log-line, answering to a mile of distance. (see page 17.) labor. a vessel is said to labor when she rolls or pitches heavily. lacing. rope used to lash a sail to a gaff, or a bonnet to a sail. also, a piece of compass or knee timber, fayed to the back of the figure-head and the knee of the head, and bolted to each. land-fall. the making land after being at sea. _a good land-fall_, is when a vessel makes the land as intended. land ho! the cry used when land is first seen. lanyards. ropes rove through dead-eyes for setting up rigging. also, a rope made fast to anything to secure it, or as a handle, is called a _lanyard_. larboard. the left side of a vessel, looking forward. larbowlines. the familiar term for the men in the larboard watch. large. a vessel is said to be going _large_, when she has the wind free. latchings. loops on the head rope of a bonnet, by which it is laced to the foot of the sail. launch. a large boat. the long-boat. launch ho! high enough! lay. to come or to go; as, _lay aloft!_ _lay forward!_ _lay aft!_ also, the direction in which the strands of a rope are twisted; as, from left to right, or from right to left. leach. (see leech.) leachline. a rope used for hauling up the leach of a sail. lead. a piece of lead, in the shape of a cone or pyramid, with a small hole at the base, and a line attached to the upper end, used for sounding. (see hand-lead, deep-sea-lead.) leading-wind. a fair wind. more particularly applied to a wind abeam or quartering. leak. a hole or breach in a vessel, at which the water comes in. ledges. small pieces of timber placed athwart-ships under the decks of a vessel, between the beams. lee. the side opposite to that from which the wind blows; as, if a vessel has the wind on her starboard side, that will be the _weather_, and the larboard will be the _lee_ side. _a lee shore_ is the shore upon which the wind is blowing. _under the lee_ of anything, is when you have that between you and the wind. _by the lee._ the situation of a vessel, going free, when she has fallen off so much as to bring the wind round her stern, and to take her sails aback on the other side. lee-board. a board fitted to the lee side of flat-bottomed boats, to prevent their drifting to leeward. lee-gage. (see gage.) leeway. what a vessel loses by drifting to leeward. when sailing close-hauled with all sail set, a vessel should make no leeway. if the topgallant sails are furled, it is customary to allow one point; under close-reefed topsails, two points; when under one close-reefed sail, four or five points. leech, or leach. the border or edge of a sail, at the sides. leefange. an iron bar, upon which the sheets of fore-and-aft sails traverse. also, a rope rove through the cringle of a sail which has a bonnet to it, for hauling in, so as to lace on the bonnet. not much used. leeward. (pronounced _lu-ard_.) the lee side. in a direction opposite to that from which the wind blows, which is called _windward_. the opposite of _lee_ is _weather_, and of _leeward_ is _windward_; the two first being adjectives. lie-to, is to stop the progress of a vessel at sea, either by counter-bracing the yards, or by reducing sail so that she will make little or no headway, but will merely come to and fall off by the counteraction of the sails and helm. life-lines. ropes carried along yards, booms, &c., or at any part of the vessel, for men to hold on by. lift. a rope or tackle, going from the yard-arms to the mast-head, to support and move the yard. also, a term applied to the sails when the wind strikes them on the leeches and raises them slightly. light. to move or lift anything along; as, to "_light_ out to windward!" that is, haul the sail over to windward. the _light sails_ are all above the topsails, also the studdingsails and flying jib. lighter. a large boat, used in loading and unloading vessels. limbers, or limber-holes. holes cut in the lower part of the floor-timbers, next the keelson, forming a passage for the water fore-and-aft. _limber-boards_ are placed over the limbers, and are movable. _limber-rope._ a rope rove fore-and-aft through the limbers, to clear them if necessary. _limber-streak._ the streak of foot-waling nearest the keelson. list. the inclination of a vessel to one side; as, a _list_ to port, or a _list_ to starboard. lizard. a piece of rope, sometimes with two legs, and one or more iron thimbles spliced into it. it is used for various purposes. one with two legs, and a thimble to each, is often made fast to the topsail tye, for the buntlines to reeve through. a single one is sometimes used on the swinging-boom topping-lift. locker. a chest or box, to stow anything away in. _chain-locker._ where the chain cables are kept. _boatswain's locker._ where tools and small stuff for working upon rigging are kept. log, or log-book. a journal kept by the chief officer, in which the situation of the vessel, winds, weather, courses, distances, and everything of importance that occurs, is noted down. _log._ a line with a piece of board, called the _log-chip_, attached to it, wound upon a reel, and used for ascertaining the ship's rate of sailing. (see page 17.) long-boat. the largest boat in a merchant vessel. when at sea, it is carried between the fore and main masts. longers. the longest casks, stowed next the keelson. long-timbers. timbers in the cant-bodies, reaching from the dead-wood to the head of the second futtock. loof. that part of a vessel where the planks begin to bend as they approach the stern. loom. that part of an oar which is within the row-lock. also, to appear above the surface of the water; to appear larger than nature, as in a fog. lubber's hole. a hole in the top, next the mast. luff. to put the helm so as to bring the ship up nearer to the wind. _spring-a-luff!_ _keep your luff!_ &c. orders to luff. also, the roundest part of a vessel's bow. also, the forward leech of fore-and-aft sails. luff-tackle. a purchase composed of a double and single block. (see page 54.) _luff-upon-luff._ a luff tackle applied to the fall of another. lugger. a small vessel carrying lug-sails. _lug-sail._ a sail used in boats and small vessels, bent to a yard which hangs obliquely to the mast. lurch. the sudden rolling of a vessel to one side. lying-to. (see lie-to.) made. a _made mast_ or _block_ is one composed of different pieces. a ship's lower mast is a made spar, her topmast is a whole spar. mall, or maul. (pronounced _mawl_.) a heavy iron hammer used in driving bolts. (see top-maul.) mallet. a small maul, made of wood; as, _caulking-mallet_; also, _serving-mallet_, used in putting service on a rope. manger. a coaming just within the hawse hole. not much in use. man-ropes. ropes used in going up and down a vessel's side. marl. to wind or twist a small line or rope round another. marline. (pronounced _mar-lin_.) small two-stranded stuff, used for marling. a finer kind of spunyarn. marling-hitch. a kind of hitch used in marling. marlingspike. an iron pin, sharpened at one end, and having a hole in the other for a lanyard. used both as a fid and a heaver. marry. to join ropes together by a worming over both. martingale. a short, perpendicular spar, under the bowsprit-end, used for guying down the head-stays. (see dolphin-striker.) mast. a spar set upright from the deck, to support rigging, yards and sails. masts are whole or _made_. mat. made of strands of old rope, and used to prevent chafing. mate. an officer under the master. maul. (see mall.) mend. _to mend service_, is to add more to it. meshes. the places between the lines of a netting. mess. any number of men who eat or lodge together. messenger. a rope used for heaving in a cable by the capstan. midships. the timbers at the broadest part of the vessel. (see amidships.) miss-stays. to fail of going about from one tack to another. (see page 74.) mizzen-mast. the aftermost mast of a ship. (see plate 1.) the spanker is sometimes called the _mizzen_. monkey block. a small single block strapped with a swivel. moon-sail. a small sail sometimes carried in light winds, above a sky sail. moor. to secure by two anchors. (see page 88.) mortice. a _morticed block_ is one made out of a whole block of wood with a hole cut in it for the sheave; in distinction from a _made block_. (see page 53.) moulds. the patterns by which the frames of a vessel are worked out. mouse. to put turns of rope yarn or spunyarn round the end of a hook and its standing part, when it is hooked to anything, so as to prevent its slipping out. mousing. a knot or puddening, made of yarns, and placed on the outside of a rope. muffle. oars are muffled by putting mats or canvass round their looms in the row-locks. munions. the pieces that separate the lights in the galleries. naval hoods, or hawse bolsters. plank above and below the hawse-holes. neap tides. low tides, coming at the middle of the moon's second and fourth quarters. (see spring tides.) neaped, or beneaped. the situation of a vessel when she is aground at the height of the spring tides. near. close to wind. "near!" the order to the helmsman when he is too near the wind. netting. network of rope or small lines. used for stowing away sails or hammocks. nettles. (see knittles.) ninepin block. a block in the form of a ninepin, used for a _fair-leader_ in the rail. nip. a short turn in a rope. nippers. a number of yarns marled together, used to secure a cable to the messenger. nock. the forward upper end of a sail that sets with a boom. nun-buoy. a buoy tapering at each end. nut. projections on each side of the shank of an anchor, to secure the stock to its place. oakum. stuff made by picking rope-yarns to pieces. used for caulking, and other purposes. oar. a long wooden instrument with a flat blade at one end, used for propelling boats. off-and-on. to stand on different tacks towards and from the land. offing. distance from the shore. orlop. the lower deck of a ship of the line; or that on which the cables are stowed. out-haul. a rope used for hauling out the clew of a boom sail. out-rigger. a spar rigged out to windward from the tops or cross-trees, to spread the breast-backstays. (see page 25.) overhaul. _to overhaul a tackle_, is to let go the fall and pull on the leading parts so as to separate the blocks. _to overhaul a rope_, is generally to pull a part through a block so as to make slack. _to overhaul rigging_, is to examine it. over-rake. said of heavy seas which come over a vessel's head when she is at anchor, head to the sea. painter. a rope attached to the bows of a boat, used for making her fast. palm. a piece of leather fitted over the hand, with an iron for the head of a needle to press against in sewing upon canvass. also, the fluke of an anchor. panch. (see paunch.) parbuckle. to hoist or lower a spar or cask by single ropes passed round it. parcel. (see page 44.) to wind tarred canvass, (called _parcelling_,) round a rope. parcelling. (see parcel.) parliament-heel. the situation of a vessel when she is careened. parral. the rope by which a yard is confined to a mast at its centre. part. to break a rope. partners. a frame-work of short timber fitted to the hole in a deck, to receive the heel of a mast or pump, &c. pazaree. a rope attached to the clew of the foresail and rove through a block on the swinging boom. used for guying the clews out when before the wind. paunch mat. a thick mat, placed at the slings of a yard or elsewhere. pawl. a short bar of iron, which prevents the capstan or windlass from turning back. _to pawl_, is to drop a pawl and secure the windlass or capstan. pay-off. when a vessel's head falls off from the wind. _to pay._ to cover over with tar or pitch. _to pay out._ to slack up on a cable and let it run out. peak. the upper outer corner of a gaff-sail. peak. (see a-peak.) a _stay-peak_ is when the cable and fore stay form a line. a _short stay-peak_ is when the cable is too much in to form this line. pendant, or pennant. a long narrow piece of bunting, carried at the mast-head. _broad pennant_, is a square piece, carried in the same way, in a commodore's vessel. _pennant._ a rope to which a purchase is hooked. a long strap fitted at one end to a yard or mast-head, with a hook or block at the other end, for a brace to reeve through, or to hook a tackle to. pillow. a block which supports the inner end of the bowsprit. pin. the axis on which a sheave turns. also, a short piece of wood or iron to belay ropes to. pink-stern. a high, narrow stern. pinnace. a boat, in size between the launch and a cutter. pintle. a metal bolt, used for hanging a rudder. pitch. a resin taken from pine, and used for filling up the seams of a vessel. planks. thick, strong boards, used for covering the sides and decks of vessels. plat. a braid of foxes. (see fox.) plate. (see chain-plate.) plug. a piece of wood, fitted into a hole in a vessel or boat, so as to let in or keep out water. point. to take the end of a rope and work it over with knittles. (see page 51. see reef-points.) pole. applied to the highest mast of a ship, usually painted; as, _skysail pole_. poop. a deck raised over the after part of the spar deck. a vessel is _pooped_ when the sea breaks over her stern. poppets. perpendicular pieces of timber fixed to the fore-and-aft part of the bilge-ways in launching. port. used instead of _larboard_. _to port the helm_, is to put it to the larboard. port, or port-hole. holes in the side of a vessel, to point cannon out of. (see bridle.) portoise. the gunwale. the yards are _a-portoise_ when they rest on the gunwale. port-sills. (see sills.) preventer. an additional rope or spar, used as a support. prick. a quantity of spunyarn or rope laid close up together. pricker. a small marlinspike, used in sail-making. it generally has a wooden handle. puddening. a quantity of yarns, matting or oakum, used to prevent chafing. pump-brake. the handle to the pump. purchase. a mechanical power which increases the force applied. _to purchase_, is to raise by a purchase. quarter. the part of a vessel's side between the after part of the main chains and the stern. the _quarter_ of a yard is between the slings and the yard-arm. the wind is said to be _quartering_, when it blows in a line between that of the keel and the beam and abaft the latter. quarter-block. a block fitted under the quarters of a yard on each side the slings, for the clewlines and sheets to reeve through. quarter-deck. that part of the upper deck abaft the main-mast. quarter-master. a petty officer in a man-of-war, who attends the helm and binnacle at sea, and watches for signals, &c., when in port. quick-work. that part of a vessel's side which is above the chain-wales and decks. so called in ship-building. quilting. a coating about a vessel, outside, formed of ropes woven together. quoin. a wooden wedge for the breech of a gun to rest upon. race. a strong, rippling tide. rack. to seize two ropes together, with cross-turns. also, a _fair-leader_ for running rigging. rack-block. a course of blocks made from one piece of wood, for fair-leaders. rake. the inclination of a mast from the perpendicular. ramline. a line used in mast-making to get a straight middle line on a spar. range of cable. a quantity of cable, more or less, placed in order for letting go the anchor or paying out. ratlines. (pronounced _rat-lins_.) lines running across the shrouds, horizontally, like the rounds of a ladder, and used to step upon in going aloft. rattle down rigging. to put ratlines upon rigging. it is still called rattling _down_, though they are now rattled _up_; beginning at the lowest. (see page 23.) razee. a vessel of war which has had one deck cut down. reef. to reduce a sail by taking in upon its head, if a square sail, and its foot, if a fore-and-aft sail. reef-band. a band of stout canvass sewed on the sail across, with points in it, and earings at each end for reefing. a _reef_ is all of the sail that is comprehended between the head of the sail and the first reef-band, or between two reef-bands. reef-tackle. a tackle used to haul the middle of each leech up toward the yard, so that the sail may be easily reefed. reeve. to pass the end of a rope through a block, or any aperture. relieving tackle. a tackle hooked to the tiller in a gale of wind, to steer by in case anything should happen to the wheel or tiller-ropes. render. to pass a rope through a place. a rope is said to _render_ or not, according as it goes freely through any place. rib-bands. long, narrow, flexible pieces of timber nailed to the outside of the ribs, so as to encompass the vessel lengthwise. ribs. a figurative term for a vessel's timbers. ride at anchor. to lie at anchor. also, to bend or bear down by main strength and weight; as, to _ride down_ the main tack. riders. interior timbers placed occasionally opposite the principal ones, to which they are bolted, reaching from the keelson to the beams of the lower deck. also, casks forming the second tier in a vessel's hold. rigging. the general term for all the ropes of a vessel. (see running, standing.) also, the common term for the shrouds with their ratlines; as, the _main rigging_, _mizzen rigging_, &c. right. to _right_ the helm, is to put it amidships. rim. the edge of a top. ring. the iron ring at the upper end of an anchor, to which the cable is bent. ring-bolt. an eye-bolt with a ring through the eye. (see eye-bolt.) ring-tail. a small sail, shaped like a jib, set abaft the spanker in light winds. roach. a curve in the foot of a square sail, by which the clews are brought below the middle of the foot. the _roach_ of a fore-and-aft sail is in its forward leech. road, or roadstead. an anchorage at some distance from the shore. robands. (see rope-bands.) rolling tackle. tackles used to steady the yards in a heavy sea. rombowline. condemned canvass, rope, &c. rope-bands, or robands. small pieces of two or three yarn spunyarn or marline, used to confine the head of the sail to the yard or gaff. rope-yarn. a thread of hemp, or other stuff, of which a rope is made. (see page 43.) rough-tree. an unfinished spar. round in. to haul in on a rope, especially a weather-brace. round up. to haul up on a tackle. rounding. a service of rope, hove round a spar or larger rope. rowlocks, or rollocks. places cut in the gunwale of a boat for the oar to rest in while pulling. royal. a light sail next above a topgallant sail. (see plate 2.) royal yard. the yard from which the royal is set. the fourth from the deck. (see plate 1.) rubber. a small instrument used to rub or flatten down the seams of a sail in sail-making. rudder. the machine by which a vessel or boat is steered. run. the after part of a vessel's bottom, which rises and narrows in approaching the stern-post. _by the run._ to let go _by the run_, is to let go altogether, instead of slacking off. rung-heads. the upper ends of the floor-timbers. runner. a rope used to increase the power of a tackle. it is rove through a single block which you wish to bring down, and a tackle is hooked to each end, or to one end, the other being made fast. running rigging. the ropes that reeve through blocks, and are pulled and hauled, such as braces, halyards, &c.; in opposition to the _standing rigging_, the ends of which are securely seized, such as stays, shrouds, &c. (see page 43.) saddles. pieces of wood hollowed out to fit on the yards to which they are nailed, having a hollow in the upper part for the boom to rest in. sag. to _sag to leeward_, is to drift off bodily to leeward. sails are of two kinds: _square sails_, which hang from yards, their foot lying across the line of the keel, as the courses, topsails, &c.; and _fore-and-aft sails_, which set upon gaffs, or on stays, their foot running with the line of the keel, as jib, spanker, &c. sail ho! the cry used when a sail is first discovered at sea. save-all. a small sail sometimes set under the foot of a lower studdingsail. (see water sail.) scantling. a term applied to any piece of timber, with regard to its breadth and thickness, when reduced to the standard size. scarf. to join two pieces of timber at their ends by shaving them down and placing them over-lapping. schooner. (see plate 4.) a small vessel with two masts and no tops. a _fore-and-aft schooner_ has only fore-and-aft sails. a _topsail schooner_ carries a square fore topsail, and frequently, also, topgallant sail and royal. there are some schooners with three masts. they also have no tops. a _main-topsail schooner_ is one that carries square topsails, fore and aft. score. a groove in a block or dead-eye. scotchman. a large batten placed over the turnings-in of rigging. (see batten.) scraper. a small, triangular iron instrument, with a handle fitted to its centre, and used for scraping decks and masts. scrowl. a piece of timber bolted to the knees of the head, in place of a figure-head. scud. to drive before a gale, with no sail, or only enough to keep the vessel ahead of the sea. also, low, thin clouds that fly swiftly before the wind. scull. a short oar. _to scull_, is to impel a boat by one oar at the stern. scuppers. holes cut in the water-ways for the water to run from the decks. scuttle. a hole cut in a vessel's deck, as, a hatchway. also, a hole cut in any part of a vessel. _to scuttle_, is to cut or bore holes in a vessel to make her sink. scuttle-butt. (see butt.) seams. the intervals between planks in a vessel's deck or side. seize. to fasten ropes together by turns of small stuff. seizings. (see page 51.) the fastenings of ropes that are seized together. selvagee. a skein of rope-yarns or spunyarn, marled together. used as a neat strap. (see page 50.) send. when a ship's head or stern pitches suddenly and violently into the trough of the sea. sennit, or sinnit. (see page 52.) a braid, formed by plaiting rope-yarns or spunyarn together. straw, plaited in the same way for hats, is called sennit. serve. (see page 44.) to wind small stuff, as rope-yarns, spunyarn, &c., round a rope, to keep it from chafing. it is wound and hove round taut by a serving-board or mallet. service, is the stuff so wound round. set. to _set up rigging_, is to tauten it by tackles. the seizings are then put on afresh. shackles. links in a chain cable which are fitted with a movable bolt so that the chain can be separated. shakes. the staves of hogsheads taken apart. shank. the main piece in an anchor, at one end of which the stock is made fast, and at the other the arms. shank-painter. a strong rope by which the lower part of the shank of an anchor is secured to the ship's side. sharp up. said of yards when braced as near fore-and-aft as possible. sheathing. a casing or covering on a vessel's bottom. shears. two or more spars, raised at angles and lashed together near their upper ends, used for taking in masts. (see page 52.) shear hulk. an old vessel fitted with shears, &c., and used for taking out and putting in the masts of other vessels. sheave. the wheel in a block upon which the rope works. _sheave-hole_, the place cut in a block for the ropes to reeve through. sheep-shank. a kind of hitch or bend, used to shorten a rope temporarily. (see plate 5 and page 50.) sheer, or sheer-strake. the line of plank on a vessel's side, running fore-and-aft under the gunwale. also, a vessel's position when riding by a single anchor. sheet. a rope used in setting a sail, to keep the clew down to its place. with square sails, the sheets run through each yard-arm. with boom sails, they haul the boom over one way and another. they keep down the inner clew of a studdingsail and the after clew of a jib. (see home.) sheet anchor. a vessel's largest anchor: not carried at the bow. shell. the case of a block. shingle. (see ballast.) ship. a vessel with three masts, with tops and yards to each. (see plate 4.) to enter on board a vessel. to fix anything in its place. shiver. to shake the wind out of a sail by bracing it so that the wind strikes upon the leech. shoe. a piece of wood used for the bill of an anchor to rest upon, to save the vessel's side. also, for the heels of shears, &c. shoe-block. a block with two sheaves, one above the other, the one horizontal and the other perpendicular. shore. a prop or stanchion, placed under a beam. to _shore_, to prop up. shrouds. a set of ropes reaching from the mast-heads to the vessel's sides, to support the masts. sills. pieces of timber put in horizontally between the frames to form and secure any opening; as, for ports. sister block. a long piece of wood with two sheaves in it, one above the other, with a score between them for a seizing, and a groove around the block, lengthwise. skids. pieces of timber placed up and down a vessel's side, to bear any articles off clear that are hoisted in. skin. the part of a sail which is outside and covers the rest when it is furled. also, familiarly, the sides of the hold; as, an article is said to be stowed _next the skin_. skysail. a light sail next above the royal. (see plate 2.) sky-scraper. a name given to a _skysail_ when it is triangular. slabline. a small line used to haul up the foot of a course. slack. the part of a rope or sail that hangs down loose. _slack in stays_, said of a vessel when she works slowly in tacking. sleepers. the knees that connect the transoms to the after timbers on the ship's quarter. sling. to set a cask, spar, gun, or other article, in ropes, so as to put on a tackle and hoist or lower it. slings. the ropes used for securing the centre of a yard to the mast. _yard-slings_ are now made of iron. also, a large rope fitted so as to go round any article which is to be hoisted or lowered. slip. to let a cable go and stand out to sea. (see page 90.) slip-rope. a rope bent to the cable just outside the hawse-hole, and brought in on the weather quarter, for slipping. (see page 90.) sloop. a small vessel with one mast. (see plate 4.) sloop of war. a vessel of any rig, mounting between 18 and 32 guns. slue. to turn anything round or over. small stuff. the term for spunyarn, marline, and the smallest kinds of rope, such as ratline-stuff, &c. snake. to pass small stuff across a seizing, with marling hitches at the outer turns. snatch-block. a single block, with an opening in its side below the sheave, or at the bottom, to receive the bight of a rope. snotter. a rope going over a yard-arm, with an eye, used to bend a tripping-line to in sending down topgallant and royal yards in vessels of war. snow. a kind of brig, formerly used. snub. to check a rope suddenly. snying. a term for a circular plank edgewise, to work in the bows of a vessel. so! an order to 'vast hauling upon anything when it has come to its right position. sole. a piece of timber fastened to the foot of the rudder, to make it level with the false keel. sound. to get the depth of water by a lead and line. (see page 85.) the pumps are _sounded_ by an iron _sounding rod_, marked with a scale of feet and inches. span. a rope with both ends made fast, for a purchase to be hooked to its bight. spanker. the after sail of a ship or bark. it is a fore-and-aft sail, setting with a boom and gaff. (see plate 2.) spar. the general term for all masts, yards, booms, gaffs, &c. spell. the common term for a portion of time given to any work. _to spell_, is to relieve another at his work. _spell ho!_ an exclamation used as an order or request to be relieved at work by another. spencer. a fore-and-aft sail, set with a gaff and no boom, and hoisting from a small mast called a _spencer-mast_, just abaft the fore and main masts. (see plates 2 and 4.) spill. to shake the wind out of a sail by bracing it so that the wind may strike its leech and shiver it. spilling line. a rope used for spilling a sail. rove in bad weather. spindle. an iron pin upon which the capstan moves. also, a piece of timber forming the diameter of a made mast. also, any long pin or bar upon which anything revolves. spirketing. the planks from the water-ways to the port-sills. splice. (see plate 5 and page 44.) to join two ropes together by interweaving their strands. spoon-drift. water swept from the tops of the waves by the violence of the wind in a tempest, and driven along before it, covering the surface of the sea. spray. an occasional sprinkling dashed from the top of a wave by the wind, or by its striking an object. spring. to crack or split a mast. _to spring a leak_, is to begin to leak. _to spring a luff_, is to force a vessel close to the wind, in sailing. spring-stay. a preventer-stay, to assist the regular one. (see stay.) spring tides. the highest and lowest course of tides, occurring every new and full moon. sprit. a small boom or gaff, used with some sails in small boats. the lower end rests in a becket or snotter by the foot of the mast, and the other end spreads and raises the outer upper corner of the sail, crossing it diagonally. a sail so rigged in a boat is called a _sprit-sail_. sprit-sail-yard. (see plate 1.) a yard lashed across the bowsprit or knight-heads, and used to spread the guys of the jib and flying jib-boom. there was formerly a sail bent to it called a _sprit-sail_. spunyarn. (see page 44.) a cord formed by twisting together two or three rope-yarns. spurling line. a line communicating between the tiller and tell-tale. spurs. pieces of timber fixed on the bilge-ways, their upper ends being bolted to the vessel's sides above the water. also, curved pieces of timber, serving as half beams, to support the decks where whole beams cannot be placed. spur-shoes. large pieces of timber that come abaft the pump-well. square. yards are _squared_ when they are horizontal and at right angles with the keel. squaring by the lifts makes them horizontal; and by the braces, makes them at right angles with the vessel's line. also, the proper term for the length of yards. a vessel has square yards when her yards are unusually long. a sail is said to be very square on the head when it is long on the head. _to square a yard_, in working ship, means to bring it in square by the braces. square-sail. a temporary sail, set at the fore-mast of a schooner or sloop when going before the wind. (see sail.) stabber. a pricker. staff. a pole or mast, used to hoist flags upon. stanchions. (see plate 3.) upright posts of wood or iron, placed so as to support the beams of a vessel. also, upright pieces of timber, placed at intervals along the sides of a vessel, to support the bulwarks and rail, and reaching down to the bends, by the side of the timbers, to which they are bolted. also, any fixed, upright support; as to an awning, or for the man-ropes. stand by! an order to be prepared. standard. an inverted knee, placed above the deck instead of beneath it; as, _bitt-standard_, &c. standing. the _standing part_ of a rope is that part which is fast, in opposition to the part that is hauled upon; or the main part, in opposition to the end. the _standing part_ of a tackle is that part which is made fast to the blocks and between that and the next sheave, in opposition to the hauling and leading parts. standing rigging. (see page 43.) that part of a vessel's rigging which is made fast and not hauled upon. (see running.) starboard. the right side of a vessel, looking forward. starbowlines. the familiar term for the men in the starboard watch. start. to _start a cask_, is to open it. stay. to tack a vessel, or put her about, so that the wind, from being on one side, is brought upon the other, round the vessel's head. (see tack, wear.) _to stay a mast_, is to incline it forward or aft, or to one side or the other, by the stays and backstays. thus, a mast is said to be _stayed_ too much forward or aft, or too much to port, &c. _stays._ large ropes, used to support masts, and leading from the head of some mast down to some other mast, or to some part of the vessel. those which lead forward are called _fore-and-aft stays_; and those which lead down to the vessel's sides, _backstays_. (see backstays.) _in stays_, or _hove in stays_, the situation of a vessel when she is _staying_, or going about from one tack to the other. staysail. a sail which hoists upon a stay. steady! an order to keep the helm as it is. steerage. that part of the between-decks which is just forward of the cabin. steeve. a bowsprit _steeves_ more or less, according as it is raised more or less from the horizontal. the _steeve_ is the angle it makes with the horizon. also, a long, heavy spar, with a place to fit a block at one end, and used in stowing certain kinds of cargo, which need be driven in close. stem. (see plate 3.) a piece of timber reaching from the forward end of the keel, to which it is scarfed, up to the bowsprit, and to which the two sides of the vessel are united. stemson. a piece of compass-timber, fixed on the after part of the apron inside. the lower end is scarfed into the keelson, and receives the scarf of the stem, through which it is bolted. step. a block of wood secured to the keel, into which the heel of the mast is placed. _to step a mast_, is to put it in its step. stern. (see plate 3.) the after end of a vessel. (see by the stern.) stern-board. the motion of a vessel when going stern foremost. stern-frame. the frame composed of the stern-post transom and the fashion-pieces. stern-post. (see plate 3.) the aftermost timber in a ship, reaching from the after end of the keel to the deck. the stem and stern-post are the two extremes of a vessel's frame. _inner stern-post._ a post on the inside, corresponding to the _stern-post_. stern-sheets. the after part of a boat, abaft the rowers, where the passengers sit. stiff. the quality of a vessel which enables it to carry a great deal of sail without lying over much on her side. the opposite to _crank_. stirrups. ropes with thimbles at their ends, through which the foot-ropes are rove, and by which they are kept up toward the yards. stock. a beam of wood, or a bar of iron, secured to the upper end of the shank of an anchor, at right angles with the arms. an iron stock usually goes with a key, and unships. stocks. the frame upon which a vessel is built. stools. small channels for the dead-eyes of the backstays. stopper. a stout rope with a knot at one end, and sometimes a hook at the other, used for various purposes about decks; as, making fast a cable, so as to overhaul. (see cat stopper, deck stopper.) stopper bolts. ring-bolts to which the deck stoppers are secured. stop. a fastening of small stuff. also, small projections on the outside of the cheeks of a lower mast, at the upper parts of the hounds. strand. (see page 43.) a number of rope-yarns twisted together. three, four or nine strands twisted together form a rope. a rope is _stranded_ when one of its strands is parted or broken by chafing or by a strain. a vessel is _stranded_ when she is driven on shore. strap. a piece of rope spliced round a block to keep its parts well together. some blocks have iron straps, in which case they are called _iron bound_. streak, or strake. a range of planks running fore and aft on a vessel's side. stream. the _stream anchor_ is one used for warping, &c., and sometimes as a lighter anchor to moor by, with a hawser. it is smaller than the _bowers_, and larger than the _kedges_. _to stream a buoy_, is to drop it into the water. _stretchers._ pieces of wood placed across a boat's bottom, inside, for the oarsmen to press their feet against, in rowing. also, cross pieces placed between a boat's sides to keep them apart when hoisted up and griped. strike. to lower a sail or colors. studdingsails. (see plate 2.) light sails set outside the square sails, on booms rigged out for that purpose. they are only carried with a fair wind and in moderate weather. sued, or sewed. the condition of a ship when she is high and dry on shore. if the water leaves her two feet, she sues, or is sued, two feet. supporters. the knee-timbers under the cat-heads. surf. the breaking of the sea upon the shore. surge. a large, swelling wave. to _surge_ a rope or cable, is to slack it up suddenly where it renders round a pin, or round the windlass or capstan. _surge ho!_ the notice given when a cable is to be _surged_. swab. a mop, formed of old rope, used for cleaning and drying decks. sweep. to drag the bottom for an anchor. also, large oars, used in small vessels to force them ahead. swift. to bring two shrouds or stays close together by ropes. swifter. the forward shroud to a lower-mast. also, ropes used to confine the capstan bars to their places when shipped. swig. a term used by sailors for the mode of hauling off upon the bight of a rope when its lower end is fast. swivel. a long link of iron, used in chain cables, made so as to turn upon an axis and keep the turns out of a chain. syphering. lapping the edges of planks over each other for a bulkhead. tabling. letting one beam-piece into another. (see scarfing.) also, the broad hem on the borders of sails, to which the bolt-rope is sewed. tack. to put a ship about, so that from having the wind on one side, you bring it round on the other by the way of her head. the opposite of _wearing_. a vessel is on the _starboard tack_, or has her _starboard tacks on board_, when she has the wind on her starboard side. the rope or tackle by which the weather clew of a course is hauled forward and down to the deck. the _tack_ of a fore-and-aft sail is the rope that keeps down the lower forward clew; and of a studdingsail, the lower outer clew. the tack of the lower studdingsail is called the _outhaul_. also, that part of a sail to which the tack is attached. tackle. (pronounced _tay-cle_.) a purchase, formed by a rope rove through one or more blocks. taffrail, or tafferel. the rail round a ship's stern. tail. a rope spliced into the end of a block and used for making it fast to rigging or spars. such a block is called a _tail-block_. a ship is said to _tail_ up or down stream, when at anchor, according as her stern swings up or down with the tide; in opposition to _heading_ one way or another, which is said of a vessel when under way. tail-tackle. a watch-tackle. (see page 54.) tail on! or tally on! an order given to take hold of a rope and pull. tank. an iron vessel placed in the hold to contain the vessel's water. tar. a liquid gum, taken from pine and fir trees, and used for caulking, and to put upon yarns in rope-making, and upon standing rigging, to protect it from the weather. tarpaulin. a piece of canvass, covered with tar, used for covering hatches, boats, &c. also, the name commonly given to a sailor's hat when made of tarred or painted cloth. taut. tight. taunt. high or tall. commonly applied to a vessel's masts. _all-a-taunt-o._ said of a vessel when she has all her light and tall masts and spars aloft. tell-tale. a compass hanging from the beams of the cabin, by which the heading of a vessel may be known at any time. also, an instrument connected with the barrel of the wheel, and traversing so that the officer may see the position of the tiller. tend. to watch a vessel at anchor at the turn of tides, and cast her by the helm, and some sail if necessary, so as to keep turns out of her cables. tenon. the heel of a mast, made to fit into the step. thick-and-thin block. a block having one sheave larger than the other. sometimes used for quarter-blocks. thimble. an iron ring, having its rim concave on the outside for a rope or strap to fit snugly round. thole-pins. pins in the gunwale of a boat, between which an oar rests when pulling, instead of a rowlock. throat. the inner end of a gaff, where it widens and hollows in to fit the mast. (see jaws.) also, the hollow part of a knee. the _throat_ brails, halyards, &c., are those that hoist or haul up the gaff or sail near the throat. also, the angle where the arm of an anchor is joined to the shank. thrum. to stick short strands of yarn through a mat or piece of canvass, to make a rough surface. thwarts. the seats going across a boat, upon which the oarsmen sit. thwartships. (see athwartships.) tide. to _tide up or down_ a river or harbor, is to work up or down with a fair tide and head wind or calm, coming to anchor when the tide turns. tide-rode. the situation of a vessel, at anchor, when she swings by the force of the tide. in opposition to _wind-rode_. tier. a range of casks. also, the range of the fakes of a cable or hawser. the _cable tier_ is the place in a hold or between decks where the cables are stowed. tiller. a bar of wood or iron, put into the head of the rudder, by which the rudder is moved. tiller-ropes. ropes leading from the tiller-head round the barrel of the wheel, by which a vessel is steered. timber. a general term for all large pieces of wood used in ship-building. also, more particularly, long pieces of wood in a curved form, bending outward, and running from the keel up, on each side, forming the _ribs_ of a vessel. the keel, stem, stern-posts and timbers form a vessel's outer frame. (see plate 3.) timber-heads. (see plate 3.) the ends of the timbers that come above the decks. used for belaying hawsers and large ropes. timenoguy. a rope carried taut between different parts of the vessel, to prevent the sheet or tack of a course from getting foul, in working ship. toggle. a pin placed through the bight or eye of a rope, block-strap, or bolt, to keep it in its place, or to put the bight or eye of another rope upon, and thus to secure them both together. tompion. a bung or plug placed in the mouth of a cannon. top. a platform, placed over the head of a lower mast, resting on the trestle-trees, to spread the rigging, and for the convenience of men aloft. (see plate 1.) to _top_ up a yard or boom, is to raise up one end of it by hoisting on the lift. top-block. a large iron-bound block, hooked into a bolt under the lower cap, and used for the top-rope to reeve through in sending up and down topmasts. top-light. a signal lantern carried in the top. top-lining. a lining on the after part of sails, to prevent them from chafing against the top-rim. topmast. (see plate 1.) the second mast above the deck. next above the lower mast. topgallant mast. (see plate 1.) the third mast above the deck. top-rope. the rope used for sending topmasts up and down. topsail. (see plate 2.) the second sail above the deck. topgallant sail. (see plate 2.) the third sail above the deck. topping-lift. (see plate 1.) a lift used for topping up the end of a boom. top timbers. the highest timbers on a vessel's side, being above the futtocks. (see plate 3.) toss. to throw an oar out of the rowlock, and raise it perpendicularly on its end, and lay it down in the boat, with its blade forward. touch. a sail is said to _touch_, when the wind strikes the leech so as to shake it a little. _luff and touch her!_ the order to bring the vessel up and see how near she will go to the wind. tow. to draw a vessel along by means of a rope. train-tackle. the tackle used for running guns in and out. transoms. (see plate 3.) pieces of timber going across the stern-post, to which they are bolted. transom-knees. knees bolted to the transoms and after timbers. traveller. an iron ring, fitted so as to slip up and down a rope. treenails, or trunnels. long wooden pins, used for nailing a plank to a timber. trend. the lower end of the shank of an anchor, being the same distance on the shank from the throat that the arm measures from the throat to the bill. trestle-trees. two strong pieces of timber, placed horizontally and fore-and-aft on opposite sides of a mast-head, to support the cross-trees and top, and for the fid of the mast above to rest upon. triatic stay. a rope secured at each end to the heads of the fore and main masts, with thimbles spliced into its bight, to hook the stay tackles to. trice. to haul up by means of a rope. trick. the time allotted to a man to stand at the helm. trim. the condition of a vessel, with reference to her cargo and ballast. a vessel is _trimmed_ by the head or by the stern. _in ballast trim_, is when she has only ballast on board. also, to arrange the sails by the braces with reference to the wind. trip. to raise an anchor clear of the bottom. tripping line. a line used for tripping a topgallant or royal yard in sending it down. truck. a circular piece of wood, placed at the head of the highest mast on a ship. it has small holes or sheaves in it for signal halyards to be rove through. also, the wheel of a gun-carriage. trunnions. the arms on each side of a cannon by which it rests upon the carriage, and on which, as an axis, it is elevated or depressed. truss. the rope by which the centre of a lower yard is kept in toward the mast. trysail. a fore-and-aft sail, set with a boom and gaff, and hoisting on a small mast abaft the lower mast, called a _trysail-mast_. this name is generally confined to the sail so carried at the mainmast of a full-rigged brig; those carried at the foremast and at the mainmast of a ship or bark being called _spencers_, and those that are at the mizzenmast of a ship or bark, _spankers_. tumbling home. said of a ship's sides when they fall in above the bends. the opposite of _wall-sided_. turn. passing a rope once or twice round a pin or kevel, to keep it fast. also, two crosses in a cable. _to turn in_ or _turn out_, nautical terms for going to rest in a berth or hammock, and getting up from them. _turn up!_ the order given to send the men up from between decks. tye. a rope connected with a yard, to the other end of which a tackle is attached for hoisting. unbend. to cast off or untie. (see bend.) union. the upper inner corner of an ensign. the rest of the flag is called the _fly_. the _union_ of the u.s. ensign is a blue field with white stars, and the _fly_ is composed of alternate white and red stripes. _union-down._ the situation of a flag when it is hoisted upside down, bringing the union down instead of up. used as a signal of distress. _union-jack._ a small flag, containing only the union, without the fly, usually hoisted at the bowsprit-cap. unmoor. to heave up one anchor so that the vessel may ride at a single anchor. (see _moor_.) unship. (see ship.) uvrou. (see euvrou.) vane. a fly worn at the mast-head, made of feathers or buntine, traversing on a spindle, to show the direction of the wind. (see dog vane.) vang. (see plate 1.) a rope leading from the peak of the gaff of a fore-and-aft sail to the rail on each side, and used for steadying the gaff. 'vast. (see avast.) veer. said of the wind when it changes. also, to slack a cable and let it run out. (see pay.) _to veer and haul_, is to haul and slack alternately on a rope, as in warping, until the vessel or boat gets headway. viol, or voyal. a larger messenger sometimes used in weighing an anchor by a capstan. also, the block through which the messenger passes. waist. that part of the upper deck between the quarter-deck and forecastle. _waisters._ green hands, or broken-down seamen, placed in the waist of a man-of-war. wake. the track or path a ship leaves behind her in the water. wales. strong planks in a vessel's sides, running her whole length fore and aft. wall. a knot put on the end of a rope. (see plate 5 and page 46.) wall-sided. a vessel is _wall-sided_ when her sides run up perpendicularly from the bends. in opposition to _tumbling-home_ or _flaring out_. ward-room. the room in a vessel of war in which the commissioned officers live. ware, or wear. to turn a vessel round, so that, from having the wind on one side, you bring it upon the other, carrying her stern round by the wind. in _tacking_, the same result is produced by carrying a vessel's head round by the wind. warp. to move a vessel from one place to another by means of a rope made fast to some fixed object, or to a kedge. a _warp_ is a rope used for warping. if the warp is bent to a kedge which is let go, and the vessel is hove ahead by the capstan or windlass, it would be called _kedging_. wash-boards. light pieces of board placed above the gunwale of a boat. watch. (see page 167.) a division of time on board ship. there are seven watches in a day, reckoning from 12 m. round through the 24 hours, five of them being of four hours each, and the two others, called _dog watches_, of two hours each, viz., from 4 to 6, and from 6 to 8, p.m. (see dog watch.) also, a certain portion of a ship's company, appointed to stand a given length of time. in the merchant service all hands are divided into two watches, larboard and starboard, with a mate to command each. a _buoy_ is said to _watch_ when it floats on the surface. watch-and-watch. the arrangement by which the watches are alternated every other four hours. in distinction from keeping all hands during one or more watches. (see page 167.) _anchor watch_, a small watch of one or two men, kept while in port. watch ho! watch! the cry of the man that heaves the deep-sea-lead. watch-tackle. (see page 54.) a small luff purchase with a short fall, the double block having a tail to it, and the single one a hook. used for various purposes about decks. water sail. a _save-all_, set under the swinging-boom. water-ways. long pieces of timber, running fore and aft on both sides, connecting the deck with the vessel's sides. the _scuppers_ are made through them to let the water off. (see plate 3.) wear. (see ware.) weather. in the direction from which the wind blows. (see windward, lee.) a ship carries a _weather helm_ when she tends to come up into the wind, requiring you to put the helm up. _weather gage._ a vessel has the _weather gage_ of another when she is to windward of her. a _weatherly ship_, is one that works well to windward, making but little leeway. weather-bitt. to take an additional turn with a cable round the windlass-end. weather roll. the roll which a ship makes to windward. weigh. to lift up; as, to weigh an anchor or a mast. wheel. the instrument by which a ship is steered; being a barrel, (round which the tiller-ropes go,) and a wheel with spokes. whip. (see page 54.) a purchase formed by a rope rove through a single block. _to whip_, is to hoist by a whip. also, to secure the end of a rope from fagging by a seizing of twine. _whip-upon-whip._ one whip applied to the fall of another. winch. a purchase formed by a horizontal spindle or shaft with a wheel or crank at the end. a small one with a wheel is used for making ropes or spunyarn. windlass. the machine used in merchant vessels to weigh the anchor by. wind-rode. the situation of a vessel at anchor when she swings and rides by the force of the wind, instead of the tide or current. (see tide-rode.) wing. that part of the hold or between-decks which is next the side. wingers. casks stowed in the wings of a vessel. wing-and-wing. the situation of a fore-and-aft vessel when she is going dead before the wind, with her foresail hauled over on one side and her mainsail on the other. withe, or wythe. an iron instrument fitted on the end of a boom or mast, with a ring to it, through which another boom or mast is rigged out and secured. woold. to wind a piece of rope round a spar, or other thing. work up. to draw the yarns from old rigging and make them into spunyarn, foxes, sennit, &c. also, a phrase for keeping a crew constantly at work upon needless matters, and in all weathers, and beyond their usual hours, for punishment. worm. (see page 44.) to fill up between the lays of a rope with small stuff wound round spirally. stuff so wound round is called _worming_. wring. to bend or strain a mast by setting the rigging up too taut. wring-bolts. bolts that secure the planks to the timbers. wring-staves. strong pieces of plank used with the wring-bolts. yacht. (pronounced _yot_.) a vessel of pleasure or state. yard. (see plate 1.) a long piece of timber, tapering slightly toward the ends, and hung by the centre to a mast, to spread the square sails upon. yard-arm. the extremities of a yard. yard-arm and yard-arm. the situation of two vessels, lying alongside one another, so near that their yard-arms cross or touch. yarn. (see rope-yarn.) yaw. the motion of a vessel when she goes off from her course. yeoman. a man employed in a vessel of war to take charge of a storeroom; as, boatswain's yeoman, the man that has charge of the stores, of rigging, &c. yoke. a piece of wood placed across the head of a boat's rudder, with a rope attached to each end, by which the boat is steered. part ii. chapter i. the master. beginning of the voyage. shipping the crew. outfit. provisions. watches. navigation. log-book. observations. working ship. day's work. discipline. in the third part of this work, it will be seen that the shipmaster is a person to whom, both by the general marine law of all commercial nations and by the special statutes of the united states, great powers are confided, and upon whom heavy responsibilities rest. the shipmaster will find there what are his legal rights, duties and remedies as to owner, ship and crew, and the various requirements as to the papers with which he is to furnish his ship, and the observances of revenue and other regulations. it is proposed to give here, rather more, perhaps, for the information of others than of the master himself, the ordinary and every-day duties of his office, and the customs which long usage has made almost as binding as laws. there is a great difference in different ports, and among the various owners, as to the part the master is to take in supplying and manning the vessel. in many cases, the owner puts on board all the stores for the ship's use and for the crew, and gives the master particular directions, sometimes in writing, as to the manner in which he is to dispense them. these directions are more or less liberal, according to the character of the owner; and, in some cases, the dispensing of the stores is left to the master's discretion. in other instances, the master makes out an inventory of all the stores he thinks it expedient to have put on board, and they are accordingly supplied by the owner's order. in the manner of shipping the crew, there is as great a difference as in that of providing the stores. usually, the whole thing is left to shipping-masters, who are paid so much a head for each of the crew, and are responsible for their appearance on board at the time of sailing. when this plan is adopted, neither the master nor owner, except by accident, knows anything of the crew before the vessel goes to sea. the shipping-master opens the articles at his office, procures the men, sees that they sign in due form, pays them their advance, takes care that they, or others in their place, are on board at the time of sailing, and sends in a bill for the whole to the owner. in other cases, the master selects his crew, and occasionally the owner does it, if he has been at sea himself and understands seamen; though a shipping-master is still employed, to see them on board, and for other purposes. in the ordinary course of short voyages, where crews are shipped frequently, and there is not much motive for making a selection, the procuring a crew may be left entirely to the agency of a faithful shipping-master; but upon long voyages, the comfort and success of which may depend much upon the character of a crew, the master or owner should interest himself to select able-bodied and respectable men, to explain to them the nature and length of the voyage they are going upon, what clothing they will want, and the work that will be required of them, and should see that they have proper and sufficient accommodations and provisions for their comfort. the master or owner should also, though this duty is often neglected, go to the forecastle and see that it is cleaned out, whitewashed, or painted, put in a proper habitable condition, and furnished with every reasonable convenience. it would seem best that the master should have something to do with the selection of the provisions for his men, as he will usually be more interested in securing their good-will and comfort than the owner would be. by the master or owner's thus interesting himself for the crew, a great deal of misunderstanding, complaint, and ill-will may be avoided, and the beginning, at least, of the voyage be made under good auspices. unless the master is also supercargo, his duties, before sailing, are mostly confined to looking after the outfit of the vessel, and seeing that she is in sea order. everything being in readiness, the customhouse and other regulations complied with, and the crew on board, the vessel is put under the charge of the pilot to be carried out clear of the land. while the pilot is on board, the master has little else to do than to see that everything is in order, and that the commands of the pilot are executed. as soon as the pilot leaves the ship, the entire control and responsibility is thrown upon the master. when the vessel is well clear of the land, and things are put into some order, it is usual for the master to call all hands aft, and say something to them about the voyage upon which they have entered. after this, the crew are divided into watches. the watches are the divisions of the crew into two equal portions. the periods of time occupied by each part of the crew, while on duty, are also called watches. there are two watches,--the larboard, commanded by the chief mate, and the starboard, by the second mate. the master himself stands no watch, but comes and goes at all times, as he chooses. the starboard is sometimes called the captain's watch, probably from the fact that in the early days of the service, when vessels were smaller, there was usually but one mate, and the master stood his own watch; and now, in vessels which have no second mate, the master keeps the starboard watch. in dividing into watches, the master usually allows the officers to choose the men, one by one, alternately; but sometimes makes the division himself, upon consulting with his officers. the men are divided as equally as possible, with reference to their qualities as able seamen, ordinary seamen, or boys, (as all green hands are called, whatever their age may be;) but if the number is unequal, the larboard watch has the odd one, since the chief mate does not go aloft and do other duty in his watch, as the second mate does in his. the cook always musters with the larboard watch, and the steward with the starboard. if there is a carpenter, and the larboard watch is the largest, he generally goes aloft with the starboard watch; otherwise, with the larboard. as soon as the division is made, if the day's work is over, one watch is set, and the other is sent below. among the numerous customs of the ocean, which can hardly be accounted for, it is one that on the first night of the outward passage the starboard watch should take the first four hours on deck, and on the first night of the homeward passage the larboard should do the same. the sailors explain this by the old phrase, that the master takes the ship out and the mate takes her home. the master takes the bearing and distance of the last point of departure upon the land, and from that point the ship's reckoning begins, and is regularly kept in the log-book. the chief mate keeps the log-book, but the master examines and corrects the reckoning every day. the master also attends to the chronometer, and takes all the observations, with the assistance of his officers, if necessary. every day, a few minutes before noon, if there is any prospect of being able to get the sun, the master comes upon deck with his quadrant or sextant, and the chief mate also usually takes his. the second mate does not, except upon a sunday, or when there is no work going forward. as soon as the sun crosses the meridian, eight bells are struck, and a new sea day begins. the reckoning is then corrected by the observation, under the master's superintendence. the master also takes the lunar observations, usually with the assistance of both his officers; in which case, the master takes the angle of the moon with the star or sun, the chief mate takes the altitude of the sun or star, and the second mate the altitude of the moon. in regulating the hours of duty and sleep, the meal times, the food, &c., the master has absolute power; yet the customs are very nearly the same in all vessels. the hour of breakfast is seven bells in the morning, (half after seven,) dinner at noon, and supper whenever the day's work is over. if the voyage is a long one, the crew are usually put upon an allowance of bread, beef, and water. the dispensing of the stores and regulating of the allowance lies, of course, with the master, though the duty of opening the casks, weighing, measuring, &c., falls upon the second mate. the chief mate enters in the log-book every barrel or cask of provisions that is broached. the steward takes charge of all the provisions for the use of the cabin, and keeps them in the pantry, over which he has the direct control. the average of allowance, in merchant vessels, is six pounds of bread a week, and three quarts of water, and one pound and a half of beef, or one and a quarter of pork, a day, to each man. the entire control of the navigation and working of the ship lies with the master. he gives the course and general directions to the officer of the watch, who enters upon a slate, at the end of the watch, the course made, and the number of knots, together with any other observations. the officer of the watch is at liberty to trim the yards, to make alterations in the upper sails, to take in and set royals, topgallant sails, &c.; but no important alteration can be made, as, for instance, reefing a topsail, without the special order of the master, who, in such cases, always comes upon deck and takes command in person. when on deck, the weather side of the quarter-deck belongs to him, and as soon as he appears, the officer of the watch will always leave it, and go over to leeward, or forward into the waist. if the alteration to be made is slight, the master usually tells the officer to take in or set such a sail, and leaves to him the particular ordering as to the braces, sheets, &c., and the seeing all things put in place. the principal manoeuvres of the vessel, as tacking, wearing, reefing topsails, getting under way, and coming to anchor, require all hands. in these cases, the master takes command and gives his orders in person, standing upon the quarter-deck. the chief mate superintends the forward part of the vessel, under the master, and the second mate assists in the waist. the master never goes aloft, nor does any work with his hands, unless for his own pleasure. if the officer of the watch thinks it necessary to reef the topsails, he calls the master, who, upon coming on deck, takes command, and, if he thinks proper, orders all hands to be called. the crew, officers and all, then take their stations, and await the orders of the master, who works the ship in person, giving all the commands, even the most minute, and looks out for trimming the yards and laying the ship for reefing. the chief mate commands upon the forecastle, under the master, and does not go aloft. the second mate goes aloft with the crew. in tacking and wearing, the master gives all the orders, as to trimming the yards, &c., though the chief mate is expected to look out for the head yards. so, in getting under way, and in coming to anchor, the master takes the entire personal control of everything, the officers acting under him in their several stations. in the ordinary day's work, however, which is carried on in a vessel, the state of things is somewhat different. this the master does not superintend personally; but gives general instructions to the chief mate, whose duty it is to see to their execution. to understand this distinction, the reader will bear in mind that there are two great divisions of duty and labor on shipboard. one, the _working and navigating of the vessel_: that is, the keeping and ascertaining the ship's position, and directing her course, the making and taking in sail, trimming the sails to the wind, and the various nautical manoeuvres and evolutions of a vessel. the other branch is, the work done upon the hull and rigging, to keep it in order, such as the making and fitting of new rigging, repairing of old, &c.; all which, together with making of small stuffs to be used on board, constitute the _day's work and jobs_ of the crew. as to the latter, the master usually converses with the chief mate upon the state of the vessel and rigging, and tells him, more or less particularly, what he wishes to have done. it then becomes the duty of this officer to see the thing accomplished. if, for instance, the master tells the chief mate to stay the topmasts more forward, the chief mate goes upon the forecastle, sets the men to work, one upon one thing and another upon another, sees that the stays and backstays are come up with, has tackles got upon the rigging, sights the mast, &c. if the master sees anything which he disapproves of, and has any preferences in the modes of doing the work, he should call the officer aft and speak to him; and if, instead of this, he were to go forward and give orders to the men, it would be considered an interference, and indeed an insult to the officer. so with any other work doing upon the ship or rigging, as rattling down, turning in and setting up rigging, bending and unbending sails, and all the knotting, splicing, serving, &c., and the making of small stuffs, which constitute the _day's work and jobs_ of a vessel. if the chief officer is a competent man, the master is not expected to trouble himself with the details of any of these things; and, indeed, if he were to do so to a great extent, it would probably lead to difficulty. where there are passengers, as in regular line of packet ships (or, as they are familiarly called, _liners_,) between new york and liverpool or havre, for instance, the master has even less to do with the day's work; since the navigation and working of the ship, with proper attention to his passengers, is as much as can reasonably be required of him. the master has the entire control of the cabin. the mates usually live in a state room by themselves, or, if they live in the cabin, they yet feel that the master is the head of the house, and are unwilling to interfere with his hours and occupations. the chief mate dines with the master, and the second mate looks out for the ship while they are below, and dines at the second table. in the _liners_, however, the mates usually dine together; the master looks out for the ship while they are at dinner, and dines with his passengers at a later hour. as the master stands no watch, he comes and goes as he pleases, and takes his own hours for rest. in fine weather, he is not necessarily much on deck, but should be ready at all times, especially in bad weather, to be up at a moment's notice. everything of importance that occurs, as the seeing a sail or land, or the like, must be immediately reported to the master. and in heaving-to for speaking, the master takes the entire charge of working the vessel, and speaks the other sail in person. as will be found in the third part of this book, the master has the entire control of the discipline of the ship, and no subordinate officer has authority to punish a seaman, or to use force, without the master's order, except in cases of necessity not admitting of delay. he has also the complete direction of the internal arrangements and economy of the vessel, and upon his character, and upon the course of conduct he pursues, depend in a great measure the character of the ship and the conduct of both officers and men. he has a power and influence, both direct and indirect, which may be the means of much good or much evil. if he is profane, passionate, tyrannical, indecent, or intemperate, more or less of the same qualities will spread themselves or break out among officers and men, which, perhaps would have been checked, if not in some degree removed, had the head of the ship been a man of high personal character. he may make his ship almost anything he chooses, and may render the lives and duties of his officers and men pleasant and profitable to them, or may introduce disagreements, discontent, tyranny, resistance, and, in fact, make the situation of all on board as uncomfortable as that in which any human beings can well be placed. every master of a vessel who will lay this to heart, and consider his great responsibility, may not only be a benefactor to the numbers whom the course of many years will bring under his command, but may render a service to the whole class, and do much to raise the character of the calling. chapter ii. the chief mate. care of rigging and ship's furniture. day's work. working ship. coming to anchor. getting under way. reefing. furling. duties in port. account of cargo. stowage. station. log-book. navigation. the chief mate, or, as he is familiarly called on board ship, _the mate_, is the active superintending officer. in the previous chapter, upon the duties of the master, it will be seen that, in all matters relating to the care of and work done upon the ship and rigging, the master gives general orders to the mate, who attends personally to their execution in detail. indeed, in the _day's work_ on board ship, the chief mate is the only officer who appears in command. the second mate works like a common seaman, and the men seldom know what is to be done until they receive their orders in detail from the chief mate. it is his duty to carry on the work, to find every man something to do, and to see that it is done. he appoints the second mate his work, as well as the common seamen theirs; and if the master is dissatisfied with anything, or wishes a change, he should speak to the chief mate, and let him make the change, and not interfere with the men individually. it is also the duty of this officer to examine all parts of the rigging, report anything of importance to the master and take his orders, or, if it be a small and common matter, he will have the repairs or changes made at his own pleasure, as a thing of course. he must also see that there is a supply of small stuffs for the work, and have them made up when necessary, and also that there are instruments ready for every kind of labor, or for any emergency. in bad weather, he must have spare rope, blocks, tackles, sennit, earings, &c., on hand; or rather, see that they are provided, the more immediate care of these things, when provided, belonging to the second mate. from this description of a chief mate's duty, it will be seen that he ought always to be not only a vigilant and active man, but also well acquainted with all kinds of seaman's work, and a good judge of rigging. in the working of the ship, when all hands are called and the master is on deck, the chief mate's place is on the forecastle, where, under the general direction of the master, who never need leave the quarter-deck, he commands the forward part of the vessel, and is the organ of communication with the men aloft. in getting under way and coming to anchor, it is his duty to attend to the ground tackle, and see everything ready forward. the master, for instance, tells him to have the ship ready for getting under way, and to heave short on the cable. he then goes forward, orders all hands to be called, sees everything secured about decks, tackles got up and boats hoisted in and lashed, fish and cat tackles, pennant, davit, &c., and spare hawsers and rope, in readiness, orders the men to the windlass, (the second mate taking a handspike with the rest,) and stationing himself between the knight-heads, looks out for the cable, ordering and encouraging the men. when the cable is hove short, he informs the master, and, at the word from him, orders the men aloft to loose the sails, and gives particular directions to them when aloft, as to the sails, gaskets, overhauling rigging, &c. the sails being loosed, he awaits the order from the master, which would be addressed to him rather than to the men, and has the windlass manned and the anchor hove up, giving notice to the master as soon as it is a-weigh. when the vessel is under way, the master begins to take more immediate control, ordering the yards to be braced and filled, sail to be set, and the like. the chief mate also sees to the catting and fishing of the anchors, to having the decks cleared up and everything secured. in coming to anchor, very nearly the same duty falls upon the chief officer. he must see the anchors and cables ready for letting go, the master ordering how much chain is to be overhauled. he must look out that the boats are ready for lowering, the rigging clear for letting go, hauling and clewing, and that spare hawsers, kedges, warps, &c., are at hand. if anything goes wrong forward, he alone is looked to for an explanation. as the vessel draws in toward her anchoring ground, the master gives all the orders as to trimming the yards and taking in sail; and at all times, when on deck, has the entire charge of the man at the helm, it being the mate's duty only to see that a good seaman is there, and that the helm is relieved. as to the sails, the master will, for instance, order--"clew up the fore and main topsails!" the chief mate then gives the particular orders as to lowering and letting go the halyards, clewing down and up, overhauling rigging, &c. if both topsails were taken in at once, the second mate would attend to the main, unless the master should choose to look out for it himself. all being ready for letting go, the master gives the order--"let go the anchor!" and the chief mate sees that it is done, has the chain payed out, reports how much is out, sees that the buoys _watch_, and the like. in furling the sails, the whole superintendence comes upon the mate, as the master would probably only tell him to have them furled. he has the rigging hauled taut, sends the men aloft, and, remaining on deck and forward, he gives his orders to them while on the yards, as to the manner of furling, and has the ropes hauled taut or let go on deck, as may be necessary. these instances may serve to show the distinctions between the duties of master and mate in the principal evolutions of a vessel. while in port, the chief mate has much more the control of the vessel than when at sea. as there is no navigating or working of the vessel to be done, the master has little to engage him, except transactions with merchants and others on shore, and the necessary general directions to the mate, as to the care of the ship. beside the work upon the ship and rigging while in port, the chief mate has the charge of receiving, discharging, stowing and breaking out the cargo. in this he has the entire control, under the general directions of the master. it is his duty to keep an account of all the cargo, as it goes in and comes out of the vessel, and, as he generally gives receipts, he is bound to great care and accuracy. when cargo is coming in and going out, the chief mate will stand in the gangway, to keep an account, and the second mate will be down in the hold with some of the crew, breaking out, or stowing. the stowage, however, should still be somewhat under the chief mate's directions. while the master is on shore, the chief mate is necessarily commander of the ship, for the time, and though the law will extend his power proportionably for cases of necessity, yet, except in instances which will not admit of delay, he must not attempt to exercise any unusual powers, but should refer everything to the master's decision. it will be seen, by the laws, that the mate has no right to punish a man during the master's absence, unless it be a case in which delay would lead to serious consequences. while in port, the chief mate stands no watch at night, but he should always be the first to be called in the morning, and should be up early and order the calling of all hands. in cleaning the ship, as washing down decks, &c., which is done the first thing in the morning, each mate, while at sea, takes charge of it in his watch, in turn, as one or the other has the morning watch; but in port, the second mate oversees the washing down of the decks, under the chief mate's general orders. while at sea, in tacking, wearing, reefing topsails, &c., and in every kind of "all hands work," when the master is on deck, the chief mate's place, as i have said, is forward. to give a further notion of the manner of dividing the command, i will describe the evolution of tacking ship. the master finds that the ship will not lay her course, and tells the chief mate to 'see all clear for stays,' or 'ready about.' upon this, the chief mate goes forward, sends all hands to their stations, and sees everything clear and ready on the forecastle. the master asks, "all ready forward?" and being answered, "ay, ay, sir!" motions the man at the helm to put the wheel down, and calls out, "helm's a-lee!" the mate, answering immediately, "helm's a-lee," to let the master know he is heard and understood, sees that the head sheets are let go. at "raise tacks and sheets!" from the master, the mate, and the men with him, let go the fore tack, while he looks after the overhauling of the other tack and sheet. he also sees to letting go the bowlines for "let go and haul," and to getting down the head sheets when the ship is about, and trims the head yards, calling out to the men at the braces the usual orders, "well the fore yard!" "topsail yard, a small pull!" "topgallant yard, well!" &c. the master usually trims the after yards. in reefing topsails, the chief mate should not go aloft, but should keep his place forward, and look out for the men on the yards. i am aware that it has been the custom in some classes of vessels, as in the new york liners, for the chief mate to take the weather earing of a course, especially if a topsail or the other course were reefing at the same time; yet this practice has never generally prevailed, and is now going out of date. i think i may say it is the opinion of all, masters, officers, and men, that it is better for the chief mate to remain on deck. there is always a good deal to be looked after, ropes to be let go or hauled, rigging to be cleared, and the like, beside the importance of having some one to oversee the men on the different yards; which the mate, standing at a little distance, can easily do. he is also the organ of communication between the yards and the deck, and can look after the reefing to more advantage than the master can upon the quarter-deck, where he must stay to watch the helm and sails. the chief mate is not required to work with his hands, like the second mate and the seamen. he will, of course, let go and belay ropes, and occasionally pull and haul with the men when working ship; but if there is much work to be done, his time and attention are sufficiently taken up with superintending and giving orders. as to his duties as a watch-officer, it will be necessary to repeat the explanations partly given in the chapter upon the master's duties. the crew are divided equally into two watches, the larboard and starboard; the larboard commanded by the chief mate, and the starboard by the second mate. these watches divide the day between them, being on and off duty every other four hours. this is the theory of the time, but in fact, in nearly all merchant vessels, all hands are kept on deck and at work throughout the afternoon, from one o'clock until sundown; and sometimes, if there is a great deal to be done, as immediately before making port, or after an accident, all hands may be kept throughout the day. this is, however, justly considered hard usage, if long continued, since it gives the men but little time for sleep, and none for reading, or taking care of their clothes. although all hands may be on deck and at work during a day or a half day, yet the division of time is still kept up. for instance, if it is the mate's watch from 8 a.m. to 12; although all hands should be up from 12 to 5 or 6, yet from 12 to 4 the starboard watch would be considered as 'the watch on deck,' and the larboard again after 4; and so on; and during those hours the wheel will always be taken by men belonging to the watch on deck, and if any particular duty is ordered to be done by 'the watch,' that watch which has a man at the helm, and which would have been the only one on deck had not all hands been kept, would do the duty. but though this division is kept up as to the crew and the helmsman, it is not so as to the officers; for when all hands are on deck, the chief mate is always the officer in command, to whichever watch the hour may properly belong. he accordingly looks out for the ship, takes in and makes sail, and trims the yards, when all hands are on deck at work, as much in the hours of one watch as in those of the other, and he generally calls upon the men of either watch indifferently to pull and haul. but if only the starboard watch is on deck, though the chief mate should be on deck also, yet he will not interfere with the duties of that watch, but would leave the command of the vessel, and the weather side of the quarter-deck, to the second mate. of course, whenever the master comes on deck, as i have said, in whosever watch it may be, or if all hands are up, he takes the weather side of the quarter-deck, and is considered as having charge of the ship; and the officer of the watch would then give no order with reference to the helm, trimming the yards, making sail, or the like, without a direction from the master. it will be necessary to make some explanations as to the stations of the chief and second mate. i have said that when all hands are called, the chief mate's place is the forecastle, and the second mate's amidships, or at the braces on the quarter-deck. this is only in working ship with all hands; that is, in tacking, wearing, reefing, coming to anchor, getting under way, &c. whenever the work is done, and the necessity for the officers' presence at these parts of the vessel ceases, they return to their proper places on the quarter-deck. in a man-of-war there is always a lieutenant of the watch on the weather side of the quarter-deck, whatever work may be going forward, except in the single case of all hands being called to work ship; but it is not so in the merchant service. when the ordinary day's work is going forward, the mates must be about the decks or aloft, like the petty officers of a man-of-war; and it is only while no work is going forward, as in bad weather, on sundays, or at night, that the officer of the watch keeps the quarter-deck. at these times he does so, and, if the master is not on deck, does not leave it, except for a short time, and for some necessary duty forward. it will be seen in the third part of this book, that the law looks upon the chief mate as standing in a different relation to the master from that of the second mate or the men. he is considered a confidential person, to whom the owners, shippers and insurers look, in some measure, for special duties and qualifications. the master, therefore, cannot remove him from office, except under very peculiar circumstances, and then must be able to prove a justifiable cause. one of these duties which the law throws upon him, is keeping the log-book. this is a very important trust, as the log-book is the depository of the evidence of everything that may occur during the voyage; and the position of the ship, the sail she was under, the wind, &c., at any one moment, may become matters of great consequence to all concerned. so it is with reference to anything that may occur between the master or officers and the crew. as to the manner of keeping the log, it is the custom for each officer at the end of his watch to enter upon the log-slate, which usually lies on the cabin table, the courses, distances, wind and weather during his watch, and anything worthy of note that may have occurred. once in twenty-four hours the mate copies from this slate into the log-book; the master, however, first seeing the slate, examining it, and making any corrections or observations he may choose. this practice of copying from the slate, which is first submitted to the master, has led, in too many instances, to the mate's becoming the mere clerk of the master, to enter on the log-book whatever the latter may dictate. this is wrong. it is very proper that the master should examine the slate, and suggest alterations as to the ship's reckoning, &c., if necessary, but it is important to all concerned, both to the owners, shippers and insurers, on shore, and the crew of the vessel, that the independence of the mate, as the journalist of the voyage, should be preserved. the master, from the power of his office, can at all times make the situation of a mate who has displeased him extremely disagreeable, and from this cause has great indirect influence over him; the law and the custom should therefore be strictly adhered to which rightly make the chief officer, in this respect, in a manner the umpire between the master and the crew, as well as between all on board and the parties interested on shore. the law also makes the chief mate the successor to the master, in case the latter should die, or be unable to perform the duties of his office; and this without any action on the part of the crew. it is always important, therefore, that, to the practical seamanship and activity necessary for the discharge of the proper duties of his office, the mate should add a sufficient knowledge of navigation to be able to carry the ship on her voyage in case anything should happen to the master. indeed, it has been doubted whether a vessel of the largest class, upon a long voyage, would be seaworthy with no navigator on board but the master. both the chief and second mates are always addressed by their surnames, with _mr._ prefixed, and are answered with the addition of _sir_. this is a requirement of ship's duty, and an intentional omission of it is an offence against the rules and understanding of the service. chapter iii. second and third mates. second mate.--navigation. station. watch duties. day's work. working ship. reefing. furling. duties aloft. care of ship's furniture. stores. duties in port. third mate.--working ship. day's work. duties aloft--in port. boating. stores. the duties of the second mate are, to command the starboard watch when the master is not on deck, and to lead the crew in their work. it is not necessary that he should be a navigator, or even be able to keep a journal, though he should know enough of navigation to keep the courses and distances during his watch, and to report them correctly on the slate. there are also many advantages in his being acquainted with navigation and able to keep the log, as, in case of the chief mate's meeting with any accident, or being removed from office. the second mate, however, does not, by law, necessarily succeed to the office of chief mate, as the chief mate does to that of master; but it lies with the master for the time being to appoint whom he chooses to the office of chief mate: yet, if the second mate is capable of performing the duties of the office, he would ordinarily be appointed, as a matter of course. when the starboard watch alone is on deck, and the master is below, the second mate has charge of the ship. when both watches are on deck, the chief mate is officer of the deck, to whichever watch the time may belong, according to the division of the hours. when the master is on deck, he commands, in one watch as well as in the other. but the second mate does not give up the charge of the vessel to the chief mate, if he should happen to be on deck during the starboard watch, unless all hands are up. while he has charge of the vessel in his watch, his duties are the common ones of a watch officer; that is, to have an eye to the helm, watch the weather, keep a general lookout round the horizon, see to the trimming of the yards and making and taking in of the light sails, give the master notice of anything important that occurs, heave the log and keep an account of the winds, courses, rate of sailing, &c., and enter the same on the slate at the end of the watch. in these things the chief mate has no right to interfere, when it is not his watch on deck. but in all matters connected with the day's work and jobs, the second mate acts under the chief mate in his own watch, as that department belongs peculiarly to the chief mate. in working days, when the crew are employed about the ship and rigging, it is usual for the chief mate to tell the second mate what to do in his watch, and sometimes he remains on deck a few minutes to see to the commencement of the work. and while day's work is going forward, during the time that the chief mate has a watch below, as the second mate is expected to do jobs like a common seaman, it is the custom for the master to be on deck a good deal in the starboard watch and look after the vessel. while work is going forward, the second mate is about decks and aloft; but at other times, as at night, or on sunday, or during bad weather, when day's work cannot be kept up, his place is on the quarter-deck; though still, he leaves it whenever anything is to be done forward or aloft which requires the presence of a whole watch, as, setting or taking in a lower or topmast studding-sail, or any of the heavy sails. when all hands are called to work ship, as in reefing, tacking, wearing, getting under way, coming to anchor, &c., the second mate's place is aft, at the fore and main braces and main and mizzen rigging; and generally, in all ship's duty, the chief mate and larboard watch belong forward, and the second mate and starboard watch aft. in tacking ship, the second mate looks out for the lee fore and main braces, sees them belayed to one pin and clear for letting go, lets go the main braces at "mainsail haul!" and the fore at "let go and haul!" he also steadies the weather braces as the yards come up. he then sees to getting down the main tack, hauling out the main and mizzen bowlines, hauling aft the main sheet, and, in short, has charge of all the duty to be done upon the quarterdeck and in the waist. in getting under way, the second mate takes a handspike at the windlass with the men, the place which custom has assigned him being the windlass-end. if anything is to be done with the braces while the men are heaving at the windlass, it is his duty to attend to it, as the chief mate must be looking out for the ground tackle. in reefing, the second mate goes aloft with the men, and takes his place at the weather earing. this is his proper duty, and he will never give it up, unless he is a youngster, and not strong enough or sufficiently experienced to lead the men on the yard. as soon as the order is given to clew down for reefing, and the halyards are let go, if there are hands enough to haul out the reef-tackles, he should go aloft, see that the yard is well down by the lifts, and then lay out to the weather yard-arm, and get his earing rove by the time the men are upon the yard. he then hauls it out and makes fast. if both topsails are reefed at once, he goes to the main; but if one sail is reefed at a time, he goes with the men from one to the other, taking the weather earing of each. he also goes aloft to reef a course, and takes the weather earing of that, in the same manner. he is not expected to go upon the mizzen topsail yard, as the mizzen topsail is a small sail, and can be reefed by a few men, or by the light hands. in furling sails, the second mate goes aloft to the topsails and courses, and takes the bunt, as that is the most important place in that duty. he is not expected to go upon the mizzen topsail yard for any service, and though in bad weather, and in case of necessity, he would do so, yet it would be out of the usual course. he might also, in heavy weather, assist in furling a large jib, or in taking the bonnet off; but he never furls a topgallantsail, royal, or flying jib. in short, the fore or main topsail and the courses are the only sails which the second mate is expected to handle, either in reefing or furling. and, as i said before, if the sails are reefed or furled by the watch, he leads the starboard watch on the main and maintopsail yards, and the best man in the larboard watch leads them at the fore. although the proper place for the second mate on a yard, is the bunt in furling, and the weather earing in reefing, and it is the custom to give him a chance at them at first, yet he cannot retain them by virtue of his office; and if he has not the necessary strength or skill for the stations, it is no breach of duty in a seaman to take them from him; on the contrary, he must always expect, in such a case, to give them up to a smarter man. if the second mate is a youngster, as is sometimes the case, being put forward early for the sake of promotion, or if he is not active and ambitious, he will not attempt to take the bunt or weather earing. in the ordinary day's work done on shipboard, the second mate works with his hands like a common seaman. indeed, he ought to be the best workman on board, and to be able to take upon himself the nicest and most difficult jobs, or to show the men how to do them. among the various pieces of work constantly going forward on the vessel and rigging, there are some that require more skill and are less disagreeable than others. the assignment of all the work belongs to the chief mate, and if the second mate is a good seaman, (by which sailors generally understand a good workman upon rigging,) he will have the best and most important of these allotted to him; as, for instance, fitting, turning in and setting up rigging, rattling down, and making the neater straps, coverings, graftings, pointings, &c.; but if he is not a good workman, he will have to employ himself upon the inferior jobs, such as are usually assigned to ordinary seamen and boys. whatever may be his capacity, however, he 'carries on the work,' when his watch alone is on deck, under directions previously received from the chief mate. it is a common saying among seamen that a man does not get his hands out of the tar bucket by becoming second mate. the meaning of this is, that as a great deal of tar is used in working upon rigging, and it is always put on by hand, the second mate is expected to put his hands to it as the others do. if the chief mate were to take hold upon a piece of work, and it should be necessary to put any tar on it, he might call some one to tar it for him, as all labor by hand is voluntary with him; but the second mate would be expected to do it for himself, as a part of his work. these matters, small in themselves, serve to show the different lights in which the duties of the officers are regarded by all sea-faring men. there are, however, some inferior services, such as slushing down masts, sweeping decks, &c., which the second mate takes no part in; and if he were ordered to do so, it would be considered as punishment, and might lead to a difficulty. in working ship, making and taking in sail, &c., the second mate pulls and hauls about decks with the rest of the men. indeed, in all the work he is expected to join in, he should be the first man to take hold, both leading the men and working himself. in one thing, however, he differs from the seamen; that is, he never takes the helm. neither master nor mates ever take the wheel, but it is left to the men, who steer the vessel under the direction of the master or officer of the deck. he is also not expected to go aloft to reeve and unreeve rigging, or rig in and out booms, when making or taking in sail, if there are men enough; but, as i have said, under ordinary circumstances, only goes aloft to reef or furl a topsail or course. in case, however, of any accident, as carrying away a mast or yard, or if any unusual work is going on aloft, as the sending up or down of topmasts or topsail yards, or getting rigging over the mast-head, sending down or bending a heavy sail in a gale of wind, or the like, then the second mate should be aloft to take charge of the work there, and to be the organ of communication between the men aloft and the chief mate, who should remain on deck, since he must superintend everything fore and aft, as well as a-low and aloft. sending up or down royal and topgallant yards, being light work and done by one or two hands, does not call the second mate aloft; but if the topgallant masts are to be sent down, or a jib-boom rigged in bad weather, or any other work going on aloft of unusual importance or difficulty, the second mate should be there with the men, leading them in the work, and communicating with, and receiving the orders from the deck. during his own watch, if the master is not on deck, the second mate commands the ship, gives his orders and sees to their execution, precisely as the chief mate does in his; but, at the same time, he is expected to lend a hand at every "all-hands rope." there is another important part of the duties of a second mate; which is, the care of the spare rigging, blocks, sails, and small stuffs, and of the instruments for working upon rigging, as, marlinspikes, heavers, serving-boards, &c. it is the duty of the chief mate, as superintendent of the work, to see that these are on board, and to provide a constant supply of such as are made at sea; but when provided, it is the second mate's duty to look after them, to see them properly stowed away, and to have them at hand whenever they are called for. if, for instance, the chief mate orders a man to do a piece of work with certain instruments and certain kinds of stuff, the man will go to the second mate for them, and he must supply him. if there is no sailmaker on board, the second mate must also attend to the stowing away of the spare sails, and whenever one is called for, it is his duty to go below and find it. so with blocks, spare rigging, strands of yarns, and any part of a vessel's furniture, which an accident or emergency, as well as the ordinary course of duty, may bring into play. so, also, with the stores. it is his duty to see to the stowing away of the water, bread, beef, pork, and all the provisions of the vessel; and whenever a new cask or barrel of water or provisions is to be opened, the second mate must do it. indeed, the crew should never be sent into the hold or steerage, or to any part where there is cargo or stores, without an officer. he also measures out the allowance to the men, at the rate ordered by the master. these latter duties, of getting out the stores and weighing or measuring the allowance, fall upon the third mate, if there is one, which is seldom the case in merchant vessels. while in port, when cargo is taking in or discharging, the second mate's place is in the hold; the chief mate standing at the gangway, to keep account, and to have a general supervision. if the vessel is lying at anchor, so that the cargo has to be brought on or off in boats, then the boating duty falls upon the second mate, who goes and comes in the boats, and looks after the landing and taking off of the goods. the chief mate seldom leaves the vessel when in port. the master is necessarily on shore a good deal, and the second mate must come and go in the boats, so that the chief mate is considered as the ship-keeper. so, if a warp or kedge is to be carried out, or a boat is lowered at sea, as in boarding another vessel, or when a man has fallen overboard, in all such cases the second mate should take charge of the boat. when in port, the second mate stands no anchor watch, but is expected to be on deck until eight o'clock, which is the hour at which the watch is usually set. if, however, the ship is short-handed, he would stand his watch; in which case it would probably be either the first or the morning watch. the second mate lives aft, sleeping in the cabin, if there are no passengers, or else in a state room in the steerage. he also eats in the cabin, but at a second table, taking charge of the vessel while the master and chief mate are at their meals. in packet ships the two mates generally eat together, by themselves, at an earlier hour than the master and passengers. third mate.--merchant vessels bound on long voyages, upon which there are many vicissitudes to be anticipated, sometimes carry a third mate; but this is unusual; so much so, that his duties have hardly become settled by custom. he does not command a watch, but belongs to the larboard watch, and assists the chief mate in his duties. he goes aloft with the larboard watch to reef and furl, as the second mate does with the starboard, and performs very nearly the same duties aloft and about decks. if he is a good seaman, he will take the earing and bunt on the head yards, as the second mate does on the after yards; and in the allotment of work he will be favored with the most important jobs, if a good workman, otherwise, he will be put upon the work of an ordinary seaman. he is not expected to handle the light sails. he stands no helm, lives aft, and will look out for the vessel at mealtimes, if the second mate dines with the master and chief mate. while in port, he will be in the hold or in the boats, as he may be needed, thus dividing the labor with the second mate. perhaps his place would more properly be in the boats, as that is considered more in the light of fatigue duty. he also relieves the second mate of the charge of the stores, and sees to the weighing and measuring of the allowances; and in his watch on deck, he relieves the chief mate of the inferior parts of his duty, such as washing decks in the morning, and looking after the boys in clearing up the decks at night. chapter iv. carpenter, cook, steward, &c. carpenter.--working ship. seaman's work. helm. duty aloft. work at his trade. station. berth and mess. standing watch. sailmaker.--seaman's work. work at trade. duty aloft. standing watch. berth and mess. station. steward.--duty in passenger-ships. care of cabin-table--passengers. in other vessels--master--mate. aloft. about decks. working ship. cook.--berth. standing watch. care of galley and furniture. working ship. duty aloft. carpenter.--almost every merchant vessel of a large class, or bound upon a long voyage, carries a carpenter. his duty is to work at his trade under the direction of the master, and to assist in all-hands work according to his ability. he is stationed with the larboard or starboard watch, as he may be needed, though, if there is no third mate, usually with the larboard. in working ship, if he is an able seaman, (as well as carpenter,) he will be put in some more important place, as looking after the main tack and bowlines, or working the forecastle with the mate; and if capable of leading his watch aloft, he would naturally take the bunt or an earing. he is not expected to handle the light sails, nor to go above the topsail yards, except upon the work of his trade. if he ships for an able seaman as well as carpenter, he must be capable of doing seaman's work upon the rigging and taking his turn at the wheel, if called upon; though he would not be required to do it except in bad weather, or in case the vessel should be short-handed. if he does not expressly ship for seaman as well as carpenter, no nautical skill can be required of him; but he must still, when all hands are called, or if ordered by the master, pull and haul about decks, and go aloft in the work usual on such occasions, as reefing and furling. but the inferior duties of the crew, as sweeping decks, slushing, tarring, &c., would not be put upon him, nor would he be required to do any strictly seaman's work, except taking a helm in case of necessity, or such work as all hands join in. the carpenter is not an officer, has no command, and cannot give an order even to the smallest boy; yet he is a privileged person. he lives in the steerage, with the steward, has charge of the ship's chest of tools, and in all things connected with his trade, is under the sole direction of the master. the chief mate has no authority over him, in his trade, unless it be in case of the master's absence or disability. in all things pertaining to the working of the vessel, however, and as far as he acts in the capacity of a seaman, he must obey the orders of the officers as implicitly as any of the crew would; though, perhaps, an order from the second mate would come somewhat in the form of a request. yet there is no doubt that he must obey the second mate in his proper place, as much as he would the master in his. although he lives in the steerage, he gets his food from the galley, from the same mess with the men in the forecastle, having no better or different fare in any respect; and he has no right on the quarterdeck, but must take his place on the forecastle with the common seamen. in many vessels, during fine weather, upon long voyages, the carpenter stands no watch, but "sleeps in" at night, is called at daylight, and works all day at his trade. but in this case, whenever all hands are called, he must come up with the rest. in bad weather, when he cannot well work at his trade, or if the vessel becomes short-handed, he is put in a watch, and does duty on deck, turning in and out with the rest. in many vessels, especially those bound on short voyages, the carpenter stands his watch, and, while on deck, works at his trade in the day-time, if the weather will permit, and at night, or in bad weather, does watch duty according to his ability. sailmaker.--some ships of the largest class carry a sailmaker, though usually the older seamen are sufficiently skilled in the trade to make and mend sails, and the master or chief mate should know how to cut them out. as to the sailmaker's duty on board, the same remarks will apply to him that were made upon the carpenter. if he ships for seaman as well as sailmaker, he must do an able seaman's duty, if called upon; and if he does not so ship, he will still be required to assist in all-hands work, such as working ship, taking in and making sail, &c., according to his ability; and in bad weather, or a case of necessity, he may be put with a watch and required to do ship's duty with the rest. in all-hands work he is mustered with either watch, according to circumstances, and the station allotted to him will depend upon his qualities as a seaman; and, as with the carpenter, if he is a good seaman, he would naturally have some more important post assigned to him. he is not expected to handle the light sails, nor to go above the topsail yards. nor would the inferior duties of the crew, such as tarring, slushing, and sweeping decks, be put upon him. in bad weather, or in case of necessity, he may be mustered in a watch, and must do duty as one of the crew, according to his ability. sometimes he stands no watch, and works at his trade all day, and at others he stands his watch, and when on deck in the day time, and during good weather, works at his trade, and at night, or in bad weather, does duty with the watch. he usually lives in the steerage with the carpenter, and always takes his food from the galley. he has no command, and when on deck, belongs on the forecastle with the rest of the crew. in the work of his trade, he is under the sole direction of the master, or of the chief mate in the master's absence; but in ship's work he is as strictly under the command of the mates, as a common seaman is. steward.--the duties of the steward are very different in packet ships, carrying a large number of passengers, from those which are required of him in other vessels. in the new york _liners_, for instance, he has waiters or under-stewards, who do most of the labor, he himself having the general superintendence of the department. it is his duty to see that the cabin and state-rooms are kept in order; to see to the laying and clearing of the tables; to take care of the dishes, and other furniture belonging to them; to provide the meals, under the master's direction, preparing the nicer dishes himself; to keep the general charge of the pantry and stores for the cabin; to look after the cook in his department; and, lastly, which is as important a part of his duty as any other, to attend to the comfort and convenience of the passengers. these duties, where there are many passengers, require all his time and attention, and he is not called upon for any ship's duty. in vessels which are not passenger-ships, he does the work which falls to the under-stewards of the large packets: cleans the cabin and state rooms, sets, tends and clears away the table, provides everything for the cook, and has charge of the pantry, where all the table furniture and the small stores are kept. he is also the body servant of the master. his relation to the chief mate is somewhat doubtful; but the general understanding is, that, although he waits upon him when at table and must obey him in all matters relating to the ship's work, yet he is not in any respect his servant. if the mate wishes any personal service done, he would ask it, or make some compensation. in these vessels, the steward must come on deck whenever all hands are called, and in working ship, pulls and hauls about decks with the men. the main sheet is called the steward's rope, and this he lets go and hauls aft in tacking and wearing. in reefing and furling, he is expected to go upon the lower and topsail yards, and especially the mizzen topsail yard of a ship. no seamanship is expected of him, and he stands no watch, sleeping in at night and turning out at daylight; yet he must do ship's duty according to his ability when all hands are called for working ship or for taking in or making sail. in these things he must obey the mates in the same way that a common seaman would, and is punishable for disobedience. the amount of ship's duty required of him depends, as i have said, upon the number of passengers. cook.--the cook almost always lives in the forecastle, though sometimes in the steerage with the steward. he stands no watch, sleeping in at night, and working at his business throughout the day. he spends his time mostly in the cook-house, which is called the 'galley,' where he cooks both for the cabin and forecastle. this, with keeping the galley, boilers, pans, kids, &c., clean and in order, occupies him during the day. he is called with all hands, and in tacking and wearing, works the fore sheet. he is also expected to pull and haul about decks in all-hands work, and is occasionally called from his galley to give a pull at a tackle or halyards. no seamanship can be required of him, but he is usually expected to go upon a lower or topsail yard in reefing or furling, and to assist according to his ability in working ship. in regular passenger-ships, however, as he is more exclusively employed in cooking, he is not required to do any duty about decks, except in a case of necessity or of common danger. in some other vessels, too, if strongly manned, neither the cook nor steward are sent upon the yards. yet it can, without doubt, be required of them, by the custom and understanding of the service, to go upon a lower or topsail yard to reef or furl. if there are on board armorers, coopers, or persons following any other trades, they take the same place and follow the same rules as to duty that govern the carpenter and sailmaker. in the merchant service, when 'all hands' are called, it literally calls every one on board but the passengers; excepting, as i have said, in the case of the cook and steward of strictly passenger-ships. those persons of whom any duty can be required, who do not stand a watch, but sleep in at night and work during the day, are called _idlers_. beside turning out with 'all hands,' the idlers are sometimes called up at night to help the watch on deck in any heavy or difficult duty, when it is not desirable to call the other watch, who may have had severe service. this is allowable, if practised only in cases of necessity, and not carried to an extreme. chapter v. able seamen. grades of sea-faring persons. able seamen. ordinary seamen. boys. shipping and rating. over-rating. requisites of an able seaman. hand, reef and steer. work upon rigging. sailmaking. day's work. working ship. reefing and furling. watch duty. coasters and small vessels. sea-faring persons before the mast are divided into three classes,--able seamen, ordinary seamen, and boys or green hands. and it may be remarked here that all green hands in the merchant service are termed _boys_, and rated as such, whatever may be their age or size. in the united states navy, an able seaman receives twelve dollars per month, an ordinary seaman ten, and the boys, or green hands, from four to eight, according to their strength and experience. in the merchant service, wages are about the same on long voyages; but on voyages to europe, the west indies, and the southern ports, they are considerably higher, and very fluctuating. still, the same proportion between the classes is preserved, an ordinary seaman getting about two dollars less than an able seaman, and the boys, from nothing up to two dollars less than ordinary seamen, according to circumstances. a full-grown man must ship for boy's wages upon his first voyage. it is not unusual to see a man receiving boy's wages and rated as a boy, who is older and larger than many of the able seamen. the crews are not rated by the officers after they get to sea, but, both in the merchant service and in the navy, each man rates himself when he ships. the shipping articles, in the merchant service, are prepared for so many of each class, and a man puts his name down and contracts for the wages and duty of a seaman, ordinary seaman, or boy, at his pleasure. notwithstanding this license, there are very few instances of its being abused; for every man knows that if he is found incompetent to perform the duty he contracts for, his wages can not only be reduced to the grade for which he is fitted, but that something additional will be deducted for the deception practised upon all concerned, and for the loss of service and the numerous difficulties incurred, in case the fraud is not discovered until the vessel has got to sea. but, still more than this, the rest of the crew consider it a fraud upon themselves; as they are thus deprived of a man of the class the vessel required, which makes her short-handed for the voyage, and increases the duty put upon themselves. if, for instance, the articles provide for six able seamen, the men expect as many, and if one of the six turns out not to be a seaman, and is put upon inferior work, the duties which would commonly be done by seamen will fall upon the five. the difficulty is felt still more in the watches; as, in the case i have supposed, there would be in one watch only two able seamen instead of three, and if the delinquent was not a capable helmsman, the increased duty at the wheel alone would be, of itself, a serious evil. the officers also feel at liberty to punish a man who has so imposed upon all hands, and accordingly every kind of inferior and disagreeable duty is put upon him; and, as he finds no sympathy from the crew, his situation on board is made very unpleasant. indeed, there is nothing a man can be guilty of, short of a felony, to which so little mercy is shown on board ship; for it is a deliberate act of deception, and one to which there is no temptation, except the gain of a few dollars. the common saying that to hand, reef and steer makes a sailor, is a mistake. it is true that no man is a sailor until he can do these things; yet to ship for an able seaman he must, in addition to these, be a good workman upon rigging. the rigging of a ship requires constant mending, covering and working upon in a multitude of ways; and whenever any of the ropes or yards are chafing or wearing upon it, it must be protected by 'chafing gear.' this chafing gear consists of worming, parcelling, serving, rounding, &c.; which requires a constant supply of small stuffs, such as foxes, sennit, spunyarn, marline, and the like, all which is made on board from condemned rigging and old junk. there is also a great deal of new rigging to be cut and fitted, on board, which requires neat knots, splices, seizings, coverings, and turnings in. it is also frequently necessary to set up the rigging in one part of the vessel or another; in which case it must be seized or turned in afresh. it is upon labor of this kind that the crew is employed in the 'day's work' and jobs which are constantly carried forward on board. a man's skill in this work is the chief test of his seamanship; a competent knowledge of steering, reefing, furling, and the like, being taken for granted, and being no more than is expected of an ordinary seaman. to put a marlinspike in a man's hand and set him to work upon a piece of rigging, is considered a fair trial of his qualities as an able seaman. there is, of course, a great deal of difference in the skill and neatness of the work of different men; but i believe i am safe in saying that no man will pass for an able seaman in a square-rigged vessel, who cannot make a long and short splice in a large rope, fit a block-strap, pass seizings to lower rigging, and make the ordinary knots, in a fair, workmanlike manner. this working upon rigging is the last thing to which a lad training up to the sea is put, and always supposes a competent acquaintance with all those kinds of work that are required of an ordinary seaman or boy. a seaman is generally expected to be able to sew upon a sail, and few men ship for seamen who cannot do it; yet, if he is competent in other respects, no fault can be found with an able seaman for want of skill in sailmaking. in allotting the jobs among the crew, reference is always had to a man's rate and capacity; and it is considered a decided imputation upon a man to put him upon inferior work. the most difficult jobs, and those requiring the neatest work, will be given to the older and more experienced among the seamen; and of this none will complain; but to single out an able seaman and keep him at turning the spunyarn winch, knotting yarns or picking oakum, while there are boys on board, and other properly seaman's work going forward at the same time, would be looked upon as punishment, unless it were temporarily, or from necessity, or while other seaman were employed in the same manner. also, in consideration of the superior grade of an able seaman, he is not required to sweep down the decks at night, slush the masts, &c., if there are boys on board and at hand. not that a seaman is not obliged to do these things. there is no question but that he is, just as much as to do any other ship's work; and if there are no boys on board or at hand at the time, or from any other cause it is reasonably required of him, no good seaman would object, and it would be a refusal of duty to do so, yet if an officer were deliberately, and without necessity for it, when there were boys about decks at the time, who could do the work as well, to order an able seaman to leave his work and sweep down the decks, or slush a mast, it would be considered as punishment. in working ship, the able seamen are stationed variously; though, for the most part, upon the forecastle, at the main tack or fore and main lower and topsail braces; the light hands being placed at the cross-jack and fore and main topgallant and royal braces. in taking in and making sail, and in all things connected with the working of a ship, there is no duty which may not be required of an able seaman; yet there are certain things requiring more skill or strength, to which he is always put, and others which are as invariably assigned to ordinary seamen and boys. in reefing, the men go out to the yard-arms, and the light hands stand in toward the slings; while in furling, the bunt and quarters belong to the able seamen, and the yard-arms to the boys. the light hands are expected to loose and furl the light sails, as royals, flying jib and mizzen topgallant sail, and the men seldom go above the cross-trees, except to work upon the rigging, or to send a mast or yard up or down. the fore and main topgallant sails, and sometimes the flying jib of large vessels, require one or more able seamen for furling, but are loosed by light hands. in short, as to everything connected with working ship, making and taking in sail, &c., one general rule may be laid down. a seaman is obliged to obey the order of the master or officer, asking no questions and making no objection, whether the duty to which he is ordered be that which properly belongs to an able seaman or not; yet as able seamen alone can do the more nice and difficult work, the light hands, in their turn, are expected to do that which requires less skill and strength. in the watch on deck at night, for instance, the able and ordinary seamen steer the ship, and are depended upon in case of any accident, or if heavy sails are to be taken in or set, or ropes to be knotted or spliced; and in consideration of this, if there is light work to be done, as coiling up rigging about decks, holding the log-reel, loosing or furling a light sail, or the like, the boys are expected to do it, and should properly be called upon by the officer, unless from some circumstance it should be necessary to call upon a man. yet, as i have said before, if ordered, the seaman must do the thing, under any circumstances, and a refusal would be a refusal of his duty. no man is entitled to the rate or wages of an able seaman, who is not a good helmsman. there is always a difference in a ship's company as to this duty, some men being more steady, careful, and expert helmsmen than others; and the best quality cannot be required of every able seaman; yet if, upon fair trial, in bad weather, a man is found incapable of steering the ship, under circumstances not extraordinary, he would be considered by all on board to have failed of his duty. it should be remembered, however, that there are times when the very best helmsman is hardly able to steer a ship, and if a vessel is out of trim or slow in her motions, no skill can keep her close to her course. an able seaman is also expected to do all the work necessary for reefing, furling, and setting sail, to be able to take a bunt or earing, to send yards and masts up and down, to rig in and out booms, to know how to reeve all the running rigging of a ship, and to steer, or pull an oar in a boat. the standard of seamanship, however, is not so high in coasting vessels and those of a smaller class bound upon short voyages, in which all the work that is necessary upon the vessel or rigging is usually done when in port by people hired from on shore. in such vessels many men ship for able seamen, and are considered, upon the whole, competent, if they are able-bodied, and can hand, reef, and steer, who perhaps would only have shipped for ordinary seamen in vessels bound upon long voyages. in all large class vessels, and in vessels of almost any class bound upon long voyages, the standard of seamanship is very nearly what i have before described. chapter vi. ordinary seamen. requisites. hand, reef, and steer. loose, furl, and set sails. reeve rigging. work upon rigging. watch duty. an ordinary seaman is one who, from not being of sufficient age and strength, or from want of sufficient experience, is not quite competent to perform all the duties of an able seaman, and accordingly receives a little less than full wages, and does not contract for the complete qualities of an able seaman. there is a large proportion of ordinary seamen in the navy. this is probably because the power of the officers is so great upon their long cruises to detect and punish any deficiency, and because, if a man can by any means be made to appear wanting in capacity for the duty he has shipped to perform, it will justify a great deal of hard usage. men, therefore, prefer rather to underrate than to run any risk of overrating themselves. an ordinary seaman is expected to hand, reef, and steer, under common circumstances, (which includes 'boxing the compass;') to be well acquainted with all the running and standing rigging of a ship; to be able to reeve all the studdingsail gear, and set a topgallant or royal studdingsail out of the top; to loose and furl a royal, and a small topgallant sail or flying jib; and perhaps, also, to send down or cross a royal yard. an ordinary seaman need not be a complete helmsman, and if an able seaman should be put in his place at the wheel in very bad weather, or when the ship steered with difficulty, it would be no imputation upon him, provided he could steer his trick creditably under ordinary circumstances. in reefing or furling the courses and topsails, an ordinary seaman would not take the bunt or an earing, if there were able seamen on the yard; and perhaps, in the largest sized vessels, it would not be expected of him to pass an earing, or make up the bunt of a fore or main topsail or course in bad weather, yet he should know how to do both, and should be able to take a bunt or earing on the mizzen topsail yard, and on any topsail or lower yard of a small vessel. it is commonly understood that an ordinary seaman need not be a workman upon rigging. yet there are probably few men capable of performing the duties of an ordinary seaman, as above detailed, who would not be somewhat acquainted with work upon rigging, and who could not do the simpler parts of it, such as, serving and splicing small ropes, passing a common seizing, or the like; and it is always expected that an ordinary seaman shall be able to make all the hitches, bends, and knots in common use: such as, two half-hitches, a rolling hitch, timber hitch, clove hitch, common bend, and bowline knot. he would also be thought deficient if he could not draw, knot, and ball up yarns, and make spunyarn, foxes, and common sennit. yet it is said that if he can steer his trick, and do his duty creditably in working ship and taking in and making sail, he is entitled to the rate and wages of an ordinary seaman, though he cannot handle a marlinspike or serving-board. the duty upon which an ordinary seaman is put, depends a good deal upon whether there are boys or green hands on board or not. if there are, he has a preference over them, as an able seaman has over him, in the light work; and since he stands his helm regularly and is occasionally set to work upon rigging with the men, he will be favored accordingly in the watch and in common duty about decks. yet the distinction between ordinary seamen and boys is not very carefully observed in the merchant service, and an ordinary seaman is frequently called upon for boy's duty, though there are boys on board and at hand. if an officer wished for some one to loose a royal, take a broom and sweep the decks, hold the log-reel, coil up a rope, or the like, he would probably first call upon a boy, if at hand; if not, upon an ordinary seaman; but upon either of them indifferently, before an able seaman. if there are no boys on board, the ordinary seamen do boy's duty; the only difference being, that if they take their trick at the wheel, and do other ordinary seaman's work, the able seamen are not so much preferred over them, as over mere boys and green hands. chapter vii. boys. requisites. wages. watch. day's work. working ship. helm. duties aloft and about decks. boy is the term, as i have said before, for all green hands, whatever may be their size or age; and also for boys, who, though they have been at sea before, are not large and strong enough for ordinary seamen. it is the common saying, that a boy does not ship to know anything. accordingly, if any person ships as a boy, and upon boy's wages, no fault can be found with him, though he should not know the name of a rope in the ship, or even the stem from the stern. in the navy, the boys are divided into three classes, according to their size and experience, and different duties are put upon them. in the merchant service, all except able and ordinary seamen are generally upon the same wages, though boys' wages vary in different voyages. sometimes they get nothing, being considered as apprentices; and from that they rise to three, five, and sometimes eight dollars per month. whatever boys' wages may be, a person who ships for them for that voyage, whether more or less, is rated as boy, and his duty is according to his rate. in the ordinary day's work, the boys are taught to draw and knot yarns, make spunyarn, foxes, sennit, &c., and are employed in passing a ball or otherwise assisting the able seamen in their jobs. slushing masts, sweeping and clearing up decks, holding the log-reel, coiling up rigging, and loosing and furling the light sails, are duties that are invariably put upon the boys or green hands. they stand their watches like the rest, are called with all hands, go aloft to reef and furl, and work whenever and wherever the men do, the only difference being in the kind of work upon which they are put. in reefing, the boys lay in toward the slings of the yard, and in furling, they go out to the yard-arms. they are sent aloft immediately, as soon as they get to sea, to accustom them to the motion of a vessel, and to moving about in the rigging and on the yards. loosing and furling the royals, setting topgallant studdingsails and reeving the gear, shaking out reefs, learning the names and uses of all the ropes, and to make the common hitches, bends, and knots, reeving all the studdingsail gear, and rigging in and out booms, and the like, is the knowledge first instilled into beginners. there is a good deal of difference in the manner in which boys are put forward in different vessels. sometimes, in large vessels, where there are plenty of men, the boys never take the wheel at all, and are seldom put upon any but the most simple and inferior duties. in others, they are allowed to take the wheel in light winds, and gradually, if they are of sufficient age and strength, become regular helmsmen. so, also, in their duties aloft; if they are favored, they may be kept at the royals and topgallant sails, and gradually come to the earing of a mizzen topsail. in work upon rigging, however, a green hand makes but little progress beyond ropeyarns and spunyarn, during his first voyage; since there are men enough to do the jobs, and he can be employed to more advantage in the inferior work, and in making and taking in light sails, steering in light winds, &c.; a competent knowledge of which duty is sufficient to enable him to ship for an ordinary seaman upon the next voyage. it is generally while in the grade of ordinary seaman that the use of the marlinspike is learned. whatever knowledge a boy may have acquired, or whatever may be his age or strength, so long as he is rated as a boy, (and the rates are not changed during a voyage unless a person changes his ship,) he must do the inferior duties of a boy. if decks are to be cleared up or swept, rigging to be coiled up, a man is to be helped in his job, or any duty to be done aloft or about decks which does not require the strength or skill of a seaman, a boy is always expected to start first and do it, though not called upon by name. chapter viii. miscellaneous. watches. calling the watch. bells. helm. answering. stations. food. sleep. watches.--a watch is a term both for a division of the crew, and for the period of time allotted to such division. the crew are divided into two watches, larboard and starboard; the larboard commanded by the chief mate, and the starboard by the second mate. these watches divide the time between them, being on and off duty, or, as it is termed, on deck and below, every other four hours. if, for instance, the chief mate with the larboard watch have the first night watch, from eight to twelve, at the end of the four hours the starboard watch is called, and the second mate takes the deck, while the larboard watch and the chief mate go below until four in the morning. at four they come on deck again, and remain until eight; having what is called the 'morning watch.' as they will have been on deck eight hours out of the twelve, while the starboard watch, who had the middle watch, from twelve to four, will only have been up four hours, they are entitled to the watch below from eight till twelve, which is called the 'forenoon watch below.' where this alternation of watches is kept up throughout the twenty-four hours, four hours up and four below it is called having "watch and watch." this is always given in bad weather, and when day's work cannot be carried on; but in most merchant vessels, it is the custom to keep all hands from one p.m. until sundown, or until four o'clock. in extreme cases, also, all hands are kept throughout the day; but the watch which has had eight hours on deck at night should always be allowed a forenoon watch below, if possible. the watch from four to eight, p.m., is divided into two half-watches of two hours each, called _dog-watches_. the object of this is to make an uneven number of watches, seven instead of six; otherwise the same watch would stand during the same hours for the whole voyage, and those who had two watches on deck the first night would have the same throughout the trip. but the uneven number shifts the watches. the dog-watches coming about sundown, or twilight, and between the end of a day's work and the setting of the night watch, are usually the time given for recreation,--for smoking, telling yarns, &c., on the forecastle; things which are not allowed during the day. calling the watch.--as soon as eight bells are struck, the officer of the watch gives orders to call the watch, and one of the crew goes to the scuttle, knocks three times, and calls out in a loud voice, "all the starboard (or larboard) watch, ahoy!" or, "all starbowlines, ahoy!" or something of the kind, and adds, "eight bells," or the hour; usually, also, a question, to know whether he is heard, as, "do you hear the news there, sleepers?" some one of the watch below must answer, "ay, ay!" to show that the call has been heard. the watch below is entitled to be called in a loud and audible voice, and in the usual manner; and unless called, they cannot be expected to come up. they must also turn out at once and come on deck as soon as they are called, in order that the other watch may go below, especially as they are never called until the hour has expired, and since some minutes are allowed for turning out, dressing, and getting on deck. the man whose turn it is to take the helm goes immediately aft, and ought to be the first on deck, as the two hours' duty at the helm at night is tedious, and entitles a man to be speedily relieved. it is considered a bad trait in a man to be slack in relieving the helm. the relieving the helm is also the sign that the watch is changed, and no man is permitted to go below until that has been done. it is a man's watch on deck so long as one of his watch is at the wheel. bells.--the time at sea is marked by bells. at noon, eight bells are struck, that is, eight strokes are made upon the bell; and from that time it is struck every half-hour throughout the twenty-four, beginning at one stroke and going as high as eight, adding one at each half-hour. for instance, twelve o'clock is eight bells, half past twelve is one bell, one o'clock is two bells, half past one three bells, and so on until four o'clock, which will be eight bells. the watch is then out, and for half past four you strike one bell again. a watch of four hours therefore runs out the bells. it will be observed, also, that even bells come at the full hours, and the odd bells at the half-hours. for instance, eight bells is always twelve, four, or eight o'clock; and seven bells always half past three, half past seven, or half past eleven. the bells are sounded by two strokes following one another quickly, and then a short interval; after which, two more; and so on. if it is an odd number, the odd one is struck alone, after the interval. this is to make the counting more sure and easy; and, by this means, you can, at least, tell whether it is an hour or a half-hour. helm. neither the master nor mates of a merchant vessel ever take the helm. the proper helmsmen are the able and ordinary seamen. sometimes the carpenter, sailmaker, &c., if they are seamen, are put at the helm; also the boys, in light winds, for practice. each watch steers the ship in its turn, and the watch on deck must supply the helmsman, even when all hands are called. each man stands at the helm two hours, which is called his _trick_. thus, there are two tricks in a watch. sometimes, in very cold weather, the tricks are reduced to one hour; and, if the ship steers badly, in a gale of wind, two men are sent to the wheel at once. in this case, the man who stands on the weather side of the wheel is the responsible helmsman, the man at the lee wheel merely assisting him by heaving the wheel when necessary. the men in the watch usually arrange their tricks among themselves, the officers being satisfied if there is always a man ready to take the wheel at the proper time. in steering, the helmsman stands on the weather side of a wheel and on the lee side of a tiller. but when steering by tiller-ropes with no hitch round the tiller-head, or with a tackle, as in a heavy gale and bad sea, when it is necessary to ease the helm a good deal, it is better to stand up to windward and steer by the parts of the tackle or tiller-ropes. in relieving the wheel, the man should come aft on the lee side of the quarter-deck, (as indeed he always should unless his duty lies to windward,) go to the wheel behind the helmsman and take hold of the spokes, so as to have the wheel in command when the other lets go. before letting go, the helmsman should give the course to the man that relieves him in an audible voice, and the new man should repeat it aloud just as it was given, so as to make it sure that he has heard correctly. this is especially necessary, since the points and half points are so much alike that a mistake might easily be made. it is the duty of the officer of the watch to be present when the wheel is relieved, in order to see that the course is correctly reported and understood; which is another reason why the course should be spoken by both in a loud tone. it is unseamanlike and reprehensible to answer, "ay, ay!" or, "i understand," or the like, instead of repeating the course. if a vessel is sailing close-hauled and does not lay her course, the order is, "full and by!" which means, by the wind, yet all full. if a vessel lays her course, the order then is her course, as n.w. by w., e. by s., and the like. when a man is at the wheel, he has nothing else to attend to but steering the ship, and no conversation should be allowed with him. if he wishes to be relieved during his trick, it should not be done without the permission of the officer, and the same form of giving and repeating the course should be gone through, though he is to be absent from the helm but a minute or two. if an order is given to the man at the wheel as to his steering, he should always repeat the order, distinctly, that the officer may be sure he is understood. for instance, if the order is a new course, or, "keep her off a point!" "luff a little!" "ease her!" "meet her!" or the like, the man should answer by repeating the course or the order, as, "luff a little, sir," "meet her, sir," &c., and should not answer, "ay, ay, sir!" or simply execute the order as he understands it. this practice of repeating every, even the most minute order at the wheel, is well understood among seamen, and a failure or refusal to do so is an offence sometimes leading to disagreeable results. if, when the watch is out and the other watch has been called, all hands are detained for any purpose, as, to reef a topsail, to set studdingsails, or the like, the helm should not be relieved until the work is done and the watch ready to go below. answering.--the rule has just been stated which requires a man at the wheel to answer by repeating distinctly the order given him. the same rule applies to some other parts of a seaman's duty, though to none so strictly, perhaps, as to that. in tacking, where the moment of letting go a rope or swinging a yard is very important, the order of the master is always repeated by the officer on the forecastle. this enables the master to know whether he is heard and understood, to repeat his order if it is not answered at once, and to correct any mistake, or obviate some of its consequences. the same may be said generally of every order to the proper or instant execution of which unusual importance is attached. if, for instance, a man is stationed by a rope to let it go upon an order given, if an order is addressed to him which he supposes to be for that purpose, he should answer, "let go, sir!" and usually adds, "all gone!" as soon as it is done. green hands should bear in mind that whenever an order is of a kind which ought to be repeated, it must be so, without reference to a man's distance from the officer who gives the order, but just as much if standing a few feet from him as if at the mast-head, since, upon the whole, the chance of misapprehension is not much less in one case than in the other. the common run of orders, however, are sufficiently answered by the usual reply of "ay, ay, sir!" which is the proper seaman's answer, where the repetition of the order is not necessary. but _some answer or other should always be made to an order_. this is a rule difficult to impress upon beginners, but the reasonableness of it is obvious, and it is well understood among all seafaring persons; and even though an officer should see that the man was executing his order, he still would require, and has a right to demand a reply. the rule is as strictly observed by the master and officers between themselves, as it is required by them of the men; for the reason is the same. it is almost unnecessary to say that the addition 'sir' is always to be used in speaking to the master or to either of the mates. the mates in their turn use it to the master. 'mr.' is always to be prefixed to the name of an officer, whether chief or second mate. in well-disciplined vessels, no conversation is allowed among the men when they are employed at their work; that is to say, it is not allowed in the presence of an officer or of the master; and although, when two or more men are together aloft, or by themselves on deck, a little low conversation might not be noticed, yet if it seemed to take off their attention, or to attract the attention of others, it would be considered a misdemeanor. in this respect the practice is different in different vessels. coasters, fishermen, or small vessels on short voyages, do not preserve the same rule; but no seaman who has been accustomed to first class ships will object to a strictness as to conversations and laughing, while at day's work, very nearly as great as is observed in a school. while the crew are below in the forecastle, great license is given them; and the severest officer will never interfere with the noise and sport of the forecastle, unless it is a serious inconvenience to those who are on deck. in working ship, when the men are at their stations, the same silence and decorum is observed. but during the dog-watches, and when the men are together on the forecastle at night, and no work is going forward, smoking, singing, telling yarns, &c., are allowed; and, in fact, a considerable degree of noise and _skylarking_ is permitted, unless it amounts to positive disorder and disturbance. it is a good rule to enforce, that whenever a man aloft wishes anything to be done on deck, he shall hail the officer of the deck, and not call out, as is often done, to any one whom he may see about decks, or generally to have a thing done by whoever may happen to hear him. by enforcing this rule the officer knows what is requested, and may order it and see that it is done as he thinks fit; whereas, otherwise, any one about decks, perhaps a green hand, may execute the order upon his own judgment and after his own manner. stations.--the proper place for the seamen when they are on deck and there is no work going forward, is on the forecastle. by this is understood so much of the upper deck as is forward of the after fore-shroud. the men do not leave this to go aft or aloft unless ship's duty requires it of them. in working ship, they are stationed variously, and go wherever there is work to be done. the same is the case in working upon rigging. but if a man goes aft to take the wheel, or for any other purpose which does not require him to go to windward, he will go on the lee side of the quarter-deck. food, sleep, &c.--the crew eat together in the forecastle, or on deck, if they choose, in fine weather. their food is cooked at the galley, and they are expected to go to the galley for it and take it below or upon the forecastle. the cook puts the eatables into wooden tubs called "kids," and of these there are more or less, according to the number of men. the tea or coffee is served out to each man in his tin pot, which he brings to the galley. there is no table, and no knives nor forks to the forecastle; but each man helps himself, and furnishes his own eating utensils. these are usually a tin pot and pan, with an iron spoon. the usual time for breakfast is seven bells, that is, half past seven o'clock in the morning. consequently, the watch below is called at seven bells, that they may get breakfast and be ready to take the deck at eight o'clock. sometimes all hands get breakfast together at seven bells; but in bad weather, or if watch and watch is given, it is usual for the watch below to breakfast at seven bells, and the watch on deck at eight bells, after they are relieved. the dinner hour is twelve o'clock, if all hands get dinner together. if dinner is got 'by the watch,' the watch below is called for dinner at seven bells (half past eleven,) and the other watch dine when they go below, at twelve. if all hands are kept in the afternoon, or if both watches get supper together, the usual hour is three bells, or half past five; but if supper is got by the watch, three bells is the time for one watch and four for the other. in bad weather, each watch takes its meals during the watch below, as, otherwise, the men would be liable to be called up from their meals at any moment. as to the time allowed for sleep; it may be said, generally, that a sailor's watch below is at his own disposal to do what he chooses in, except, of course, when all hands are called. the meal times, and time for washing, mending, reading, writing, &c., must all come out of the watch below; since, whether there is work going forward or not, a man is considered as belonging to the ship in his watch on deck. at night, however, especially if watch and watch is not given, it is the custom in most merchant vessels, in good weather, to allow the watch to take naps about the decks, provided one of them keeps a look-out, and the rest are so that they can be called instantly. this privilege is rather a thing winked at than expressly allowed, and if the man who has the look-out falls asleep, or if the rest are slow in mustering at a call, they are all obliged to keep awake. in bad weather, also, or if near land, or in the track of other vessels, this privilege should not be granted. the men in each watch usually arrange the helms and look-outs among themselves, so that a man need not have a helm and a look-out during the same watch. a man should never go below during his watch on deck, without permission; and if he merely steps down into the forecastle for an instant, as, to get his jacket, he should tell some one, who may speak to him at once, if the watch is called upon. part iii. laws relating to the practical duties of master and mariners. chapter i. the vessel. title. bill of sale. registry. enrolment. license. documents. certificate. passport. sea-letter. list of crew. bill of health. general clearance. clearing manifest. invoice. bill of lading. charter-party. log-book. manifest. list of passengers and crew. remaining sea-stores. medicine-chest. provisions. title.--the bill of sale is the proper evidence of title to all vessels. it is the instrument of transfer which is used in all maritime countries, which courts of law look to for proof of title, and which is in most cases absolutely required.[6] [6] 5 rob. ad. 155. 1 mason, 139; 2 do. 435; 4 do. 390. 16 mass. 336. 7 johns. 308. but see 8 pick. 89. 16 mass. 663. possession of the vessel should also accompany the bill of sale, whenever it is practicable. if the bill of sale is transferred while the vessel is at sea, possession should be taken immediately upon her arrival in port. the fact of the bill of sale being with one person and the actual possession of the vessel with another, after there has been an opportunity to transfer it, will raise a presumption of fraud, and make the parties liable to losses and difficulties in dealing with creditors, and such as purchase in good faith.[7] [7] 4 mass. 663. 4 mason, 183. 9 pick. 4. 6 mass. 422; 15 do. 477; 18 do. 389. registry, enrolment, and license.--the laws of the united states have given many privileges to vessels built, owned and commanded by our own citizens. such vessels are entitled to be registered, enrolled or licensed, according to circumstances, and are thereupon considered "vessels of the united states, entitled to the benefits and privileges appertaining to such ships." the only vessels entitled to a register are those built in the united states and owned wholly by citizens thereof; vessels captured in war by our citizens, and condemned as prizes; and vessels adjudged to be forfeited for breach of the laws of the united states, being wholly owned by such citizens. no owner is compelled to register his vessel, but unless registered (with the exception of those enrolled and licensed in the coasting and fishing trades) she is not entitled to the privileges and benefits of a "vessel of the united states," although she be built, owned and commanded by citizens thereof.[8] [8] act 1792, ch. 45, â§1. vessels employed wholly in the whale-fishery, owned by an incorporated company, may be registered, so long as they shall be wholly employed therein.[9] if not so owned and registered, they must be enrolled and licensed.[10] [9] act 1831, ch. 350, â§1. [10] 3 sumner, 342. 2 law rep. 146 contra. the name of every registered vessel, and the port to which she belongs, must be painted on her stern, on a black ground, in white letters, of not less than three inches in length. and if any registered vessel is found without her name and the name of her port so painted, the owners thereof forfeit fifty dollars.[11] [11] act 1792, ch. 45, â§3. in order to the obtaining of a register, oath must be made that the master is a citizen of the united states.[12] if the master of a registered vessel is changed, or if the vessel's name is altered, such fact must be endorsed upon the register at the custom-house, otherwise she will cease to be considered a vessel of the united states.[13] [12] do. â§4, â§12. [13] act 1792, ch. 45, â§23. if any certificate of registry is fraudulently or knowingly used for any ship or vessel not at the time entitled to it, such ship or vessel, with her tackle, apparel and furniture, shall be forfeited to the united states.[14] if an enrolled or licensed vessel is about to proceed on a foreign voyage, she must surrender her enrolment and license, and take out a register, or she, together with her cargo, will be liable to forfeiture.[15] in case of the loss of a register, the master may make oath to the fact, and obtain a new one. [14] do. â§27. [15] act 1793, ch. 52, â§8. all vessels engaged in the coasting and fishing trades, above twenty tons' burden, in order to be entitled to the privileges of vessels of the united states in those trades, must be enrolled and licensed; and if less than twenty tons, must be licensed.[16] the same qualifications and requisites in all respects are demanded in order to the enrolling and licensing of a vessel, which are required for registering.[17] the name must be painted on the stern in the same manner, under penalty of $20.[18] [16] do. â§1. [17] do. â§2. [18] do. â§11. if any vessel licensed for the fisheries engages in any other business not expressly allowed by the license, she is forfeited.[19] vessels, however, licensed for the mackerel trade are not forfeited in consequence of having been engaged in catching cod, or other fish; but they are not entitled to the bounty allowed to vessels in the cod fisheries.[20] the officers and at least three fourths of the crew of every fishing vessel must be american citizens, or they can recover none of the bounties.[21] [19] act 1793, ch. 52, â§32. [20] acts 1828, ch. 119, â§1, and 1836, ch. 55, â§1. [21] act 1817, ch. 204, â§3. documents.--every registered vessel should have a _certificate of registry_.[22] this is an abstract of the record of registry, showing the names and residences of the owners, the place where the vessel was built, with a particular description of the vessel. this document shows the national character of the vessel, and is important to prove neutrality in time of war between other powers. for the same reasons, an enrolled vessel should have a _certificate of enrolment_.[23] vessels bound to europe should have _passports_. a passport is a permission from the government for the vessel to go upon her voyage, and contains a description of the vessel, crew, &c., and the name of the master. vessels bound round cape horn or the cape of good hope should have _sea-letters_. these contain a description of the cargo, &c., and are written in four languages--english, french, dutch and spanish. the two latter documents are rendered necessary or expedient by reason of treaties with foreign powers. every vessel should have a _list of crew_. this specifies the name, age, place of birth and residence, &c., of each one of the ship's company; and is, of course, very useful when sailing among belligerents. the other documents are the _bill of health_, _general clearance_, _clearing manifest_, _invoice_ and _bill of lading_ for the cargo, _charter-party_, if one has been given, and the _log-book_. on entering at the custom-house, the papers required in addition to these are the _manifest_, _list of passengers_ and _crew_, and of _remaining sea-stores_. [22] act 1792, ch. 45. [23] act 1793, ch. 52. medicine-chest.--every vessel belonging to citizens of the united states, of the burden of one hundred and fifty tons or upwards, navigated by ten or more persons in the whole, and bound on a foreign voyage, must be provided with a medicine-chest, put up by some apothecary of known reputation, and accompanied by directions for using the same. this chest must be examined and refitted by the same or some other apothecary at least once in a year.[24] the same rule applies to vessels of seventy-five tons and upwards, navigated by six persons in the whole, and bound to the west indies.[25] [24] act 1790, ch. 56, â§8. [25] act 1805, ch. 88, â§1. national character of crew.--in order to be placed upon the most favorable footing as to duties, bounties, &c., it is necessary that the master, officers, and two thirds of the rest of the crew of vessels in the foreign trade, and officers and three fourths of the crew of fishing and coasting vessels, should be citizens, or "persons not the subjects of any foreign prince or state."[26] nevertheless, while foreigners are employed in our vessels, they are under the protection of our laws as "mariners and seamen of the united states."[27] [26] act 1817, ch. 204, â§3, 5, 6. [27] 3 sumner, 115. provisions.--every vessel of the united states bound on a voyage across the atlantic, shall, at the time of leaving the last port from which she sails, have on board, well secured under deck, at least sixty gallons of water, one hundred pounds of salted beef, and one hundred pounds of wholesome ship bread, for every person on board, (over and above any stores that the master or passengers may have put on board;) and in like proportions for shorter or longer voyages. if any vessel is not so provided, and the crew are put upon short allowance of bread, flesh or water, they can recover an additional day's wages for every day they are so allowanced.[28] [28] act 1790, ch. 56, â§9. passengers.--the same provision, with the addition of one gallon of vinegar, must be made for every passenger; and if, in default of these, the passengers are put on short allowance, each passenger can recover three dollars for every day he is so allowanced.[29] [29] act 1819, ch. 170, â§3. if any vessel takes on board a greater number of passengers than two for every five tons, custom-house measurement, the master forfeits $150 for every such passenger; and if the number by which they exceed two for every five tons shall amount to twenty, the vessel becomes forfeited.[30] [30] do. â§1, 2. chapter ii. the master's relation to vessel and cargo. revenue duties and obligations. list of crew. certificate. sea letter. passport. list of passengers. manifest. sea stores. unloading. post-office. report. citizenship. coasting license. power to sell and hypothecate. keeping and delivering cargo. deviation. collision. pilot. wages and advances. revenue duties and obligations.--the master of every vessel bound on a foreign voyage, before clearance, must give to the collector of the customs a list of the crew, specifying their names, places of birth and residence, and containing a description of their persons; whereupon he is entitled to a certified copy of the same from the collector. this copy he must deliver, under a penalty of $400, to the first boarding officer upon his arrival in the united states, and produce the persons named therein, unless the same have been discharged in a foreign country, with the consent of the consul or other commercial agent thereto certified in writing under his hand and official seal; or by showing that they have died or absconded, or been impressed into foreign service.[31] the duplicate list of the crew shall be a fair copy, in one uniform handwriting, without erasure or interlineation.[32] [31] act 1803, ch. 62, â§1. [32] act 1840, ch. 28, â§1. the owners must also obtain from the collector of the customs a certified copy of the shipping articles. this must be produced by the master before any consul or commercial agent who may demand it, and all erasures in it or writings in a different hand shall be deemed fraudulent, unless satisfactorily explained.[33] [33] do. the master of every vessel of the united states, on arriving at a foreign port, must deposit with the consul, or other commercial agent, his certificate of registry, sea letter, and passport (if he have one,) under a penalty of $500. the consul returns them to him, upon his obtaining a clearance.[34] [34] act 1803, ch. 62, â§2. upon arriving in the united states, the master must report to the collector a list of passengers, specifying their names, age, sex, occupation, the country of which they are citizens, and that in which they intend to reside. this is under a penalty of $500.[35] [35] act 1819, ch. 170, â§4. vessels arriving from foreign ports must unlade and deliver their cargoes between sunrise and sunset, unless by special permission of the collector of the port. in making out manifests of cargoes, the master must specify what articles are to be deemed _sea stores_, and declare the same upon oath. if the collector deems the amount excessive, he may charge them with a duty. if the cargo is found to exceed the manifest, the excess is forfeited to the government, and the master is liable to pay treble the amount.[36] [36] act 1799, ch. 128, â§45. if the master land any of the _sea stores_, without first obtaining a permit, such stores are forfeited, and the master becomes liable to pay treble the value of them.[37] [37] act 1799, ch. 128, â§45. the master subjects himself to a fine of $200 if the vessel departs on a foreign voyage without a _passport_. it is the duty of the master, coming from a foreign port, to have a _manifest_ of cargo and a copy of the same made out and ready for delivery to any officer of the customs who may board the vessel within four leagues of the coast.[38] unless this manifest is produced, no merchandise can be unloaded from the vessel. the manifest shall specify the port where the merchandise was received, the port to which it is consigned, the name, build and description of the vessel, with the name of the master and owner, the marks and numbers of each package of goods, with the name of the consignee; and also the names of the passengers with their baggage, and the account of all remaining sea stores.[39] [38] do. â§23. [39] act 1819, ch. 170, â§4. if any goods are unladed within four leagues of the coast, or within the limits of any district, without authority from the proper officer, except in case of accident or necessity--which must be strictly proved--such goods are forfeited, and the master and mate incur, respectively, a penalty of $1000 for each offence.[40] [40] act 1799, ch. 128, â§27. if the master refuses to exhibit his manifest and deliver a copy of the same to the boarding officer, or to inform him of the true destination of the vessel, he incurs a penalty of $500 for each offence.[41] [41] do. â§26. the master must deposit all his letters in the post-office before entering his cargo; and if he shall break bulk before depositing his letters, he forfeits $100 for each offence.[42] [42] act 1825, ch. 275, â§17. if any merchandise is imported into the united states not contained in the manifest, the master of the vessel forfeits a sum equal to the value of such merchandise; and if any of it belongs or is consigned to the master, or to any officer or seaman on board, it becomes forfeited; unless it shall be made to appear that the omission occurred by accident or mistake.[43] [43] act 1799, ch. 128, â§24. the master of a vessel arriving from a foreign port must report himself to the collector within twenty-four hours, and within forty-eight hours he must make a further and more particular report, in writing, under penalty of $100; and if he shall attempt to leave the port without entry he forfeits $400.[44] [44] do. â§30. if any articles reported in the manifest are not found on board, the master forfeits $500, unless it shall be made to appear that the same was caused by accident or mistake. the master of every vessel bound on a foreign voyage must deliver a manifest of cargo to the collector, and obtain a clearance, under penalty of $500.[45] [45] do. â§3. the master of every vessel enrolled and licensed in the coasting trade must be a citizen of the united states; and if the vessel trades to any other than an adjoining state, three fourths of the crew must be citizens. if the master of a coasting vessel is changed, such change must be reported to the collector of the port where the change is made.[46] [46] act 1793, ch. 52, â§12. the master of every coasting vessel must deliver up his license within three days after it expired, or, if the vessel was then at sea, within three days after her first arrival thereafter, under a penalty of $50. the master of a coasting vessel departing from one great district to another, must deliver to the collector duplicate manifests of all the cargo on board, under penalty of $50; and within forty-eight hours after his arrival at the port of delivery, and before breaking bulk, he must deliver to the collector the manifest certified to by the collector of the former port, under penalty of $100.[47] if the vessel shall at any time be found without a manifest on board, the master forfeits $20, and if he refuses to inform the officer of his last port of departure, he forfeits $100.[48] [47] do. â§17. [48] do. â§18. power to sell and hypothecate.--the master has, in certain cases, power to hypothecate the ship and cargo, and also to sell a part of the cargo; and in certain extreme cases a sale of the ship and cargo, made from necessity, and in the utmost good faith, will be upheld. his right to do any of these acts is confined to cases of necessity, in distant ports, where he cannot get the advice of the owner. the safest rule for the master is, to bear in mind that his duty is to _prosecute the voyage_, and that all his acts must be done for this purpose, and in good faith. if a necessity arises in a foreign port for the repairing or supplying of the ship, he must, in the first instance, make use of any property of the owner he may have under his control, other than cargo.[49] if, however, he has money of the owner in his hands, put on board for the purpose of procuring a cargo, he is not bound to apply this first; but must use his discretion, bearing in mind that all repairs have for their sole object the prosecution of the voyage, which might be defeated by making use of these funds.[50] his next recourse should be to the personal credit of the owner, by drawing bills, or otherwise.[51] [49] 3 mason, 255. [50] do. [51] 2 wash. c. c. 226. if these means fail, he is next to hypothecate (that is, pledge) the ship (bottomry,) or cargo (respondentia,) or freight, or sell part of the cargo, according to circumstances. if the owner of the ship is also owner of the cargo, the better opinion seems to be, that the master may take whichever of these means can be adopted with the least sacrifice of the owner's interest; though, probably, selling part of the cargo would in almost all cases be the least favorable course for all the purposes of the voyage.[52] if the owner of the ship is not owner of the cargo, the master should bear in mind that he is agent of the former, and has generally no further control over the cargo than for safe keeping and transportation.[53] he should, therefore, first exhaust the credit of the ship and freight by hypothecation; and if these means fail, he then becomes, by necessity, agent for the owners of the cargo for the purposes of the voyage, and may hypothecate the whole, or sell a part, according to circumstances. as to selling part, he should remember that his duty is to carry forward the objects of the voyage, and that selling a large part would probably impair these objects more than hypothecating the whole.[54] [52] 2 wash. c. c. 226. [53] do. [54] 3 mason, 255. 1 wash. c. c. 49; 2 do. 226. 3 rob. 240. in no case can any of the cargo be sold or hypothecated to repair or supply the ship, unless these repairs and supplies are to be for the benefit of the cargo. the strictest proof is always required that the repairs were in the first place necessary, and, in the next place, that they were for the benefit of the cargo, and not merely for the good of the ship-owner.[55] [55] 2 wash. 226. 3 rob. 240. a further question arises, whether the master has ever, and when, the right to sell the whole cargo and the ship itself. if it should be impossible to repair the ship and send her on the voyage by any of the means before mentioned, it then becomes the master's duty to forward the cargo to the port of destination by some other conveyance. if neither of these things can be done, then he becomes, from necessity, agent of the owner of the cargo, and must make the best disposition of it in his power. if the goods are perishable, the owner cannot be consulted within a reasonable time, and has no agent in the port, and something must be done with the cargo, and there is no one else to act--then the master must dispose of it in such a way as best to subserve the interest of its owner. he should take the advice of the commercial agent or other suitable persons, should also use his own judgment and act with good faith, and take care to preserve evidence that he has so done. if all these requisites are not complied with, he will incur the danger of having his acts set aside.[56] [56] 2 wash. c. c. 150. 3 rob. 240. the rule as to the sale of the ship is very nearly the same, except that it is, perhaps, still more strict. if all means for repairing the vessel and sending her on her voyage have failed, and a case of absolute necessity arises, the master may make a sale of her. as a prudent man, he should have the sale made, if possible, under the authority of the judicial tribunals of the place. even this will not, of itself, render the sale valid, but will go far toward sustaining it. he should consult the consul, or other suitable persons; should have a survey made; should take care to have the sale conducted publicly and with the best faith in all parties, and to preserve evidence of the same. although a person should buy in good faith, yet the sale will be set aside unless it can be shown that there was the strictest necessity for it. the master must not become a purchaser himself, and even if he afterwards buys of one who purchased at the sale, this transaction will be very narrowly watched, and he will be bound to show the very highest good faith in all parties.[57] [57] 5 mason, 465. 2 sumner, 206. edwards, 117. the strictness of these rules should not deter the master from acting, where the interest of all requires it, but will show him the risk that is run by acting otherwise than with prudence and entire honesty. he should remember, too, that, in taking command of a vessel, he not only covenants that he will act honestly and with the best of his judgment, but also holds himself out as having a reasonable degree of skill and prudence.[58] [58] 1 dallas, 184. as to the safe keeping, transportation, and delivery of the cargo, the master's duties and obligations are those of a common carrier upon land. he is bound to the strictest diligence in commencing and prosecuting the voyage, a high degree of care both of vessel and goods, and is held liable for all losses and injuries not occasioned by inevitable accident, or by the acts of public enemies. he is answerable also for unnecessary delays and deviations, and for the wrongful or negligent acts of all persons under his command. at the termination of the voyage, he must deliver the goods to the consignee or his agents. a landing upon the wharf is a sufficient delivery, if due notice be given to the parties who are to receive them. he is not, however, bound to deliver until the freight due is paid or secured to his satisfaction, as he has a lien upon the goods for his freight; but the consignee can require the goods to be taken from the hold, in order that he may examine them, before paying freight. in such case they should not go out of the possession of the master or his agents. deviation.--the master must not deviate from the course of the voyage. by a _deviation_ is meant, technically, any alteration of the risk insured against, without necessity or reasonable cause. it may be by departing from the regular and usual course of the voyage, or by any unusual and unnecessary delay. a deviation renders the insurance void, whether the loss of the vessel is caused by the deviation or not. it is not a deviation to make a port for repairs or supplies, if there be no unnecessary delay, nor to depart from the course of the voyage in order to succor persons in distress, to avoid an enemy, or the like. it is the master's duty, within twenty-four hours after arriving at his first port, to make a _protest_ in case of any accident or loss happening to vessel or cargo. the log-book also should be carefully kept, without interlineations or erasures. the master must also enter a protest in case any american seaman is impressed, and transmit a copy of the same to the secretary of state, under a penalty of $100.[59] [59] act 1796, ch. 36, â§5. collision.--a vessel having the wind free must make way for a vessel close-hauled. the general practice is, that when two vessels approach each other, both having a free or fair wind, the one with the starboard tacks aboard keeps on her course, or, if any change is made, she luffs, so as to pass to windward of the other; or, in other words, each vessel passes to the right. this rule should also govern vessels sailing on the wind and approaching each other, when it is doubtful which is to windward. but if the vessel on the larboard tack is so far to windward that if both persist in their course the other will strike her on the lee side, abaft the beam, or near the stern; in such case, the vessel on the starboard tack must give way, as she can do so with less loss of time and greater facility than the other. these rules are particularly intended to govern vessels approaching each other under circumstances that prevent their course and movements being readily discerned with accuracy, as at night or in a fog. at other times, circumstances may render it expedient to depart from them. a steamer is considered as always sailing with a fair wind, and is bound to do whatever would be required of a vessel going free.[60] [60] report of benjamin rich and others to district court of mass. pilot.--the master must take a pilot when within the usual limits of the pilot's employment.[61] if he neglects or refuses so to do, he becomes liable to the owners, freighters, and insurers. if no pilot is at hand, he must make signals, and wait a reasonable time. the master is to be justified in entering port without a pilot only by extreme necessity. after the pilot is on board, the master has no more control over the working of the ship until she is at anchor.[62] [61] 6 rob. 316. 7 t. r. 160. [62] 2 b. & ad. 380. 3 kent's com. 175 c. wages, advances, &c.--the master has no lien upon the ship for his wages.[63] he is supposed to look to the personal responsibility of the owner. he has a lien on freight for wages, and also for his advances and necessary expenses incurred for the benefit of the ship.[64] he can sue in admiralty _in personam_, but not _in rem_;--that is, he can sue the owner personally, but cannot hold the ship. it does not seem to be settled in the united states whether the master has a lien on the ship for advances made abroad for the benefit of the vessel.[65] in case of sickness, the master's right to be cured at the expense of the ship seems to be the same as that of the seamen.[66] [63] 3 mason, 91. 11 pet. r. 175. [64] ware, 149. but see 5 wend. 314. [65] 3 mason, 255. [66] 1 sumner, 151. chapter iii. the master's relation to passengers and officers. treatment of passengers. removal of officers. passengers.--the contract of passengers with the master is not for mere ship-room and personal existence on board, but for reasonable food, comforts, necessaries, and kindness. in respect to females, it extends still further, and includes an implied stipulation against obscenity, immodesty, and a wanton disregard of the feelings. an improper course of conduct in these particulars will be punished by the court, as much as a personal assault would be.[67] [67] 3 mason, 242. officers.--the master may remove either of his officers from duty for fraudulent or unfaithful conduct, for gross negligence and disobedience, or for palpable incapacity. but the causes of removal must be strong and evident;[68] and much more so in the case of the chief mate than of the second mate. any temporary appointments, made by the master, are held at his pleasure, and stand upon a different footing from those of persons who originally shipped in the character in question.[69] [68] 4 wash. 334. [69] gilpin, 83. when a man ships in a particular capacity, as carpenter, steward, or the like, he is not to be degraded for slight causes. he stipulates for fair and reasonable knowledge and due diligence, but not for extraordinary qualifications.[70] [70] 4 mason, 84. abbott shipp. 147 n. ware, 109. the right of the master to compel an officer, who has been removed, to do duty as a seaman before the mast, has never been completely established; but the better opinion would seem to be that he may do it in a case of necessity. merchant vessels have no supernumeraries, and if the master can show that the officer was unfit for the duties he had undertaken, and thus made it necessary to take some one from the forecastle to fill his place, and that, by this means, the ship had become short-handed, he may turn the officer forward, assuming the responsibility for the act, as well as the risk of justification. he would be required to show a much stronger cause for removing the chief mate than would be insisted upon in the case of a second mate; and probably this necessity for exacting seaman's duty would be held to extend no further than an arrival at the first port where other hands could be shipped. nothing but evident unfitness or gross and repeated misconduct will justify the master in turning a person forward who shipped in another capacity, as carpenter, cook, or steward. but in such cases, he undoubtedly may do so. still, when before the mast, he cannot require of them the duty of able seamen, unless they are such in fact. chapter iv. the master's relation to the crew. shipment. shipping papers. discharge. imprisonment. punishment. shipment.--the master of every vessel of the united states, bound on a foreign voyage, and of all coasting vessels of fifty tons burden, must make a contract in writing (shipping articles) with each seaman, specifying the voyage, terms of time, &c.; and in default thereof shall forfeit $20 for every case of omission, and shall be obliged to pay every such seaman the highest rate of wages that have been paid for such voyages at the port of shipment within three months previous to the commencement of the voyage.[71] and when the master ships a seaman in a foreign port, he must take the list of crew and the duplicate of the shipping articles to the consul or commercial agent, who shall make the proper entries thereupon; and then the bond originally given for the return of the men shall embrace each person so shipped. all shipments made contrary to this or any other act of congress shall be void, and the seaman may leave at any time, and claim the highest rate of wages paid for any man who shipped for the voyage, or the sum agreed to be given him at his shipment.[72] [71] act 1790, ch. 56, â§1. [72] act 1840, ch. 23, â§1. at the foot of every such contract there shall be a memorandum of writing of the day and hour on which such seaman shall render himself on board. if this memorandum is made and the seaman neglects to render himself on board at the time specified, he shall forfeit one day's pay for every hour he is so absent, provided the master or mate shall, on the same day, have made an entry of the name of such seaman in the log-book, specifying the time he was so absent. and if the seaman shall wholly neglect to render himself on board, or, after rendering, shall desert before sailing, so that the vessel goes to sea without him, he then forfeits the amount of his advance and a further sum equal thereto, both of which may be recovered from himself or his surety.[73] [73] act 1790, ch. 56, â§2. there is no obligation upon the master to make these memorandums and entries, other than that the forfeitures cannot be inflicted upon the seamen unless they have been made literally according to the form of the statute. if any seaman who has signed the articles shall desert during the voyage, the master may have him arrested and committed to jail until the vessel is ready to proceed, by applying to a justice of the peace and proving the contract, and the breach thereof by the seaman.[74] [74] do. â§7. every vessel bound on a foreign voyage shall have on board a duplicate list of the crew, and a true copy of the shipping-articles, certified by the collector of the port, containing the names of the crew, which shall be written in a uniform hand, without erasures or interlineations. this copy the master must produce to any consul or commercial agent of the united states who shall require it; and it shall be deemed to contain all the conditions of the contract. all erasures and interlineations shall be deemed fraudulent unless proved to be innocent and bonã¢ fide. every master who shall go upon a foreign voyage without these documents, or shall refuse to produce them when required, shall forfeit one hundred dollars for each offence, beside being liable in damages to any seaman who may have been injured thereby.[75] [75] act 1840, ch. 23, â§1. discharge.--if the master discharges any seaman in a foreign port, with his own consent, he shall pay to the consul three months' wages for every such seaman, in addition to the wages then due to him, two-thirds to go to the seaman upon his taking passage for the united states, and the remainder to be retained by the consul to make a fund for the relief of destitute seamen.[76] the master of every vessel bound to the united states shall, upon the request of the consul, take on board any seaman and transport him to the united states, on terms not exceeding ten dollars for each seaman, under penalty of one hundred dollars for every refusal. he is not, however, bound to receive more than two men to every hundred tons.[77] [76] act 1803, ch. 62, â§3. see also act 1840, ch. 23, â§5. [77] act 1803, ch. 62, â§4. the whole policy of the united states discourages the discharge of seamen in foreign ports. if the seaman is discharged against his consent, and without justifiable cause, he can recover his wages up to the time of the vessel's return, together with his own expenses. the certificate of the consul will not, of itself, prove the sufficiency of the cause of discharge. though the seaman shall have made himself liable to be discharged, yet if he repents and offers to return to duty, the master must receive him, unless he can show a sufficient cause of refusal.[78] if the master alleges, as a cause for discharging a seaman, that he was a dangerous man, it must be shown that the danger was such as would affect a man of ordinary firmness.[79] [78] ware, 65. 4 mason, 541, 84. [79] ware, 9. in addition to the master's liability to the seaman, he is criminally liable to the government for discharging a mariner without cause. the statute enacts that if the master shall, when abroad, force on shore or leave behind any officer or seaman without justifiable cause, he shall be fined not exceeding five hundred dollars, or imprisoned not exceeding six months, according to the aggravation of the offence.[80] [80] act 1825, ch. 276, â§10. notwithstanding these liabilities, the master may discharge a seaman for gross misconduct; yet the right is very strictly construed.[81] [81] abbott on shipp., 147, note. imprisonment.--the master has the right to imprison a seaman in a foreign port, in a case of urgent necessity, but the power has always been very closely watched by courts of law. "the practice of imprisoning seamen in foreign jails is one of doubtful legality, and is to be justified only by a strong case of necessity."[82] "the master is not authorized to punish a seaman by imprisonment in a foreign jail unless in cases of aggravated misconduct and insubordination."[83] if he does so punish him, he is not permitted to deduct his wages during the time of imprisonment, nor charge him with the expense of it.[84] if the imprisonment is without justifiable cause, the master is not excused by showing that it was ordered by the consul.[85] and, generally, the advice of a consul is no justification of an illegal act.[86] [82] gilpin, 31. ware, 19. [83] ware, 503. [84] ware, 9, 503. [85] ware, 367. [86] gilpin, 31. punishment.--the master may inflict moderate correction on a seaman for sufficient cause; but he must take care that it is not disproportionate to the offence. if he exceeds the bounds of moderation he is treated as a trespasser, and is liable in damages.[87] in respect to the mode of correction, it may be by personal chastisement, or by confinement on board ship, in irons, or otherwise.[88] but there must not be any cruelty or unnecessary severity exercised. the mode, instruments or extent of the punishment are not laid down by law. these must depend upon circumstances. in cases of urgent necessity, as of mutiny, weapons may be used which would be unlawful at other times; but even in these cases, they must be used with the caution which the law requires in other cases of self-defence and vindication of rightful authority.[89] [87] 1 peters' ad. 186, 172. 2 do. 420. 1 wash. 316. [88] 1 peters' ad. 186, 168. 15 mass. 365. [89] same cases. it is not necessary that the punishment should be inflicted to suppress the offence at the time of its commission. it may be inflicted for past offences, and to promote good discipline on board. but the reference to by-gone acts should be very clear and distinct, or they will be presumed to have been forgiven.[90] in many cases prudence may require a postponement of the proper punishment. the authority of the master, being in its nature parental, must be exercised with a due regard to the rights and interests of all parties. he has a large discretion, but is held to answer strictly for every abuse of it.[91] the law enjoins upon him a temperate demeanor and decent conduct towards seamen. he risks the consequences if he commences a dispute with illegal conduct and improper behavior.[92] in all his acts of correction, he must punish purely for reformation and discipline, and never to gratify personal feelings.[93] if a master generally permits or encourages disorderly behavior in his ship, he is less excusable for inflicting unusual punishment on account of misconduct arising out of that disorder.[94] if the case admits of delay, and the master does not make proper inquiry before punishing, he takes the consequences upon himself.[95] [90] 1 hagg. 271. [91] 15 mass. 365. 3 day, 294. [92] 4 wash. 340. [93] 1 pet. ad. 168, 173, note. [94] bee, 239. [95] 1 hagg. 271. this power over the liberty and person of a fellow man, being against common right, and intrusted to the master only from public policy, regarding the necessities of the service, is to be sparingly used, and a strict account will be required of its exercise. the master is responsible for any punishment inflicted on board the vessel, unless in his absence, or when he is prevented by force from interfering.[96] neither will absence always be an excuse. if he had reason to suppose that such a thing might be done, and did not take pains to be present and interfere, he will be liable. neither, (as is often supposed,) will the advice, or even the personal superintendence or orders of a consul, or any foreign authority, relieve the master of his personal responsibility.[97] he may ask advice, but he must act upon his own account, and is equally answerable for what he does himself, and what he permits to be done on board his vessel by others. the seaman is entitled to be dealt with by his own captain, under whom he shipped, and whom he may hold responsible at the end of the voyage; and this responsibility is not to be shaken off by calling in the aid of others. in case of an open mutiny, or of imminent danger to life and property, the master may make use of the local authorities; but then he is to remember that he can use them no further than for the purpose of quelling the mutiny, or of apprehending the felon. as soon as his authority is restored, the parental character is again thrown upon him, and all acts of punishment must be upon his own responsibility. he has no right to punish criminally. he has no judicial power. if a seaman has committed an offence further than against the internal order and economy of the ship, and which moderate correction is not sufficient to meet, the master must bring him home, (in confinement, if necessary,) or send him immediately by some other vessel, to be tried by the laws and by a jury of his country.[98] [96] 2 sumner, 1. ware, 219. [97] ware, 367. gilpin, 31. [98] 1 pet. ad. 168. the practice of subjecting american seamen to foreign authority, or to persons whom they cannot well hold answerable,--like that of foreign imprisonment,--is an odious one, and must be justified by an overpowering necessity. a recent statute[99] makes it the duty of consuls to exert themselves to reclaim deserters and discountenance insubordination, and authorizes them to employ the local authorities, where it can usefully be done, for those purposes. but this will unquestionably be restricted to the apprehension of the deserter, and the quelling of the revolt or mutiny; and as soon as these ends are attained, the sole responsibility of the master in dealing with the crew will re-attach. [99] act 1840, ch. 23, â§1. if the master is present while the mate, or any subordinate officer, inflicts punishment upon any of the crew, or if it is inflicted under such circumstances as would raise a presumption that the master was knowing of it, and he does not interfere, he will be held to have adopted it as his own act, and will be answerable accordingly.[100] [100] 2 sumner, 1. in addition to the master's liability to the seamen in damages for abuse of power, he is also liable, as a criminal, to fine and imprisonment. a recent statute enacts, that "if any master, or other officer, of an american vessel, shall, from malice, hatred, or revenge, and without justifiable cause, beat, wound, or imprison any one or more of the crew of such vessel, or withhold from them suitable food or nourishment, or inflict on them any cruel or unusual punishment, every such person so offending shall, on conviction thereof, be punished by fine not exceeding one thousand dollars, or by imprisonment not exceeding five years, or by both, according to the nature and aggravation of the offence."[101] it is held that the word 'crew,' in this statute, includes officers; and accordingly a master was punished for unjustifiably confining and otherwise mal-treating his chief mate.[102] [101] act 1835, ch. 313, â§3. [102] 3 sumner, 209. to constitute 'malice' in the above statute, it is not necessary to show malignity as it is commonly understood, or brutality; but the term, in law, requires no more than a 'wilful intention to do a wrongful act.' an offence is punishable under this act, even although no bad passions came into play, (as hatred, or revenge,) for the term 'malice,' in law, covers all cases of intentional wrong, in their mildest form.[103] [103] 2 sumner, 584. if a seaman desires to lay any complaint before a consul in a foreign port, the master must permit him to land for that purpose, or else inform the consul immediately of the fact, stating his reasons in writing for not allowing the man to land. if he refuses to do this, he forfeits one hundred dollars, and is liable to the seaman in damages.[104] [104] act 1840, ch. 23, â§1. chapter v. passengers. provisions. treatment. passage-money. deportment. services. in chapter i. of the third part, under the title "provisions," it will be seen that the vessel must have on board, well secured under deck, at least sixty gallons of water, one hundred pounds of salted beef, one hundred pounds of wholesome ship bread, and one gallon of vinegar for each passenger, on a voyage across the atlantic, and in like proportion for shorter or longer voyages. this, too, must be in addition to the private stores of the master or passengers.[105] [105] act 1819, ch. 170, â§3. the master is also forbidden to take on board more than two passengers for every five tons.[106] [106] do. â§1. the contract of passengers with the master is not for mere ship-room and personal existence on board, but for reasonable food, comforts, necessaries, and kindness. in respect to females it extends yet farther, and includes an implied stipulation against obscenity, immodesty, and a wanton disregard of the feelings. a course of conduct oppressive and malicious in these respects will be punished by the court, as well as a personal assault.[107] [107] 3 mason, 342. no passage-money is due to a ship upon an engagement to transport a passenger, before the arrival of the vessel at the port of destination. where the passenger has paid in advance, he can reclaim his money if the voyage is not performed. if a voyage is partially performed, no passage-money is due, unless the expenses of the passenger, or the means of proceeding to the place of destination, are paid or tendered to him; in which case, passage-money in proportion to the progress in the voyage is payable.[108] [108] 1 pet. ad. 126. a passenger must submit to the reasonable rules and usages of the ship. he has no right to interfere with its discipline and internal regulations. indeed, in a case of necessity, and for the order and safety of the ship, the master may restrain a passenger by force; but the cause must be urgent, and the manner reasonable and moderate. in case of danger and distress, it is the duty as well as the interest of the passenger to contribute his aid, according to his ability, and he is entitled to no compensation therefor. he is not, however, bound to remain on board in time of danger, but may leave the vessel if he can; much less is he required to take upon himself any responsibility as to the conduct of the ship. if, therefore, he performs any extraordinary services, he becomes entitled to salvage.[109] [109] 2 b. and p. 612. 1 pet. ad. 70. 2 hagg. 3. chapter vi. mates and subordinates. mates included in the 'crew.' removal. succession. log-book wages. sickness. punishment. subordinates. pilots. in all the statutes which entitle the 'crew,' or the 'seamen,' of a vessel to certain privileges as against the master or owner, these words, 'crew' and 'seamen,' are construed to include the mates; as, for instance, the statute requiring a certain amount of provisions to be on board; the statute requiring a medicine-chest, and that which punishes the master for illegal and cruel treatment of any of the crew. in all these cases the mates are entitled to the same privileges and protection with the seamen.[110] [110] 1 sumner, 151; 3 do. 209. 4 mason, 104. the _chief mate_ is usually put on board by the owner, and is a person who is looked to for extraordinary services and responsibility. accordingly, he cannot be removed by the master, unless for repeated and aggravated misconduct, or for palpable incapacity.[111] he acts in the stead of the master in case the latter dies, and whenever he is absent.[112] he is then entrusted with the care of the ship, and the government of the crew. if he is appointed to act as mate by the master during the voyage, he holds his office at the master's pleasure;[113] but if he originally shipped in that capacity, he cannot be removed without proof of gross and flagrant misconduct, or of evident unfitness. nor will one or two single instances of intemperance, disobedience or negligence, be sufficient; the misconduct must be repeated, and the habit apparently incorrigible.[114] [111] 1 pet. ad. 244. 4 wash. 338. [112] 4 mason, 541. 1 sumner, 151. [113] gilpin, 83. [114] 1 pet. ad. 244. 4 wash. 338. the second mate and other inferior officers do not stand upon so firm a footing as the chief mate; yet they cannot be removed by the master, unless for gross and repeated acts of disobedience, intemperance, dishonesty or negligence, or for palpable incapacity. in case of the death or absence of the master, the chief mate becomes master by operation of law, but the second mate does not necessarily become chief mate. it lies with the new master to appoint whom he pleases to act as chief mate; though, in most cases, it should be the second mate, unless good reason exists for the contrary course. the second mate cannot, however, be degraded by the new master for any other cause than would have justified the former in so doing. log-book.--it is the duty of the chief mate to keep the log-book of the ship. this should be neatly and carefully kept, and all interlineations and erasures should be avoided, as they always raise suspicion. the entries should be made as soon as possible after each event takes place, and nothing should be entered which the mate would not be willing to adhere to in a court of justice. (see page 145.) in chapter iii. of the third part, under the title, "master's relation to officers," page 188, will be found a discussion of the question, whether the master can compel an officer to do duty before the mast. in chapters viii., x., xi. and xii. of part iii., under the titles, "revolt," "forfeiture," "desertion," &c., will be found the laws upon those subjects relating to seamen. and it may be generally remarked, that all those laws apply as well to the officers as to the foremast men. an officer forfeits his wages by desertion, and is criminally liable for mutiny, revolt, &c., like a common seaman. as to the questions what constitutes a revolt, mutiny, &c., and when absence or leaving a vessel is excusable, and when it works a forfeiture, and as to when wages are due, i would refer the reader to those titles in chapters viii., x., xi. and xii. of part iii., above referred to. wages.--officers may sue in admiralty for their wages, and may arrest the ship, into whoseever hands it may have passed;[115] which is not the case with the master, who is supposed to look solely to the personal responsibility of the owners. [115] 1 pet. ad. 246. sickness.--the right of an officer to be cured at the ship's expense is the same as that of a seaman.[116] the law upon that subject will be found in chapter ix., title "sickness," page 207. [116] 1 sumner, 151. punishment.--the laws of the united states provide that if any master or officer shall unjustifiably beat, wound, or imprison any of the crew, or withhold from them suitable food and nourishment, or inflict upon them any cruel and unusual punishment, he shall be imprisoned not exceeding five years, and fined not exceeding $1000 for each offence.[117] the officers, as part of the 'crew,' are entitled to the protection of this statute, against the master's acts; and, on the other hand, they are liable under it for any abuse of a seaman.[118] [117] act 1835, ch. 313, â§3. [118] 4 mason, 104. 3 sumner, 209. the law as to the officer's right to punish a seaman has been clearly settled, and is very simple. the sole authority to punish, for correction and discipline, resides with the master.[119] an officer has no right to use force with a seaman, either by chastising or confining him, except in a single class of cases; that is, upon an emergency which admits of no delay, and where the use of force is necessary for the safety of life and property. if a seaman is about to do an act which may endanger life or property, and instant action is required, the officer may confine him, or use force necessary to prevent him. so, if the immediate execution of an order is important, and a seaman, by obstinacy or wilful negligence, prevents or impedes the act, the officer may use force necessary to secure the performance of the duty. in these cases there must be a pressing necessity which will not admit of delay; for if delay is practicable, the officer must report to the master, and leave the duty of correction with him. a mate can in no case punish a seaman for the general purposes of correction and discipline, and still less for personal disrespect to himself.[120] if the master is not on board, and cannot be called upon, the authority of the officer is somewhat enlarged; but, even in this case, so far as a delay is practicable, he must leave the seaman to be dealt with by the master when he returns. except in the cases and in the manner before mentioned, the officer is liable as a trespasser for any force used with a seaman. [119] 2 sumner, 584. [120] do. 1. 584. if the officer acts under the authority, express or implied, of the master, he will not be held liable, even though the punishment should be excessive and unjustifiable; for he is, in such cases, only the agent of the master, who is responsible for the act.[121] yet, if the punishment be so excessive as to show malice or wantonness on the part of the officer, or there be anything in his conduct to imply the same, he will be liable in some measure himself. [121] ware, 219. subordinates.--there are a number of men, usually, in merchant vessels, who are not in any respect officers, but who differ from the common seamen in that they ship in particular capacities, and to perform certain duties. these are the carpenter, steward, cook, &c. such persons are not to be degraded for slight causes, though the master unquestionably has the power to do so, upon sufficient grounds.[122] he may also require them to do duty, if necessary, before the mast. he may require them to take the place of persons who have been obliged to do their work,[123] but he cannot exact from them the duty of able seamen, unless they are such in fact. repeated acts of disobedience, intemperance, and gross negligence, and evident incapacity for the duties undertaken, are justifying causes of removal.[124] in all other respects this class of persons stands upon the same footing with common seamen. they have the same privileges, and are under the same obligations and penalties.[125] [122] 4 mason, 84. ware, 109. [123] ware, 109. [124] ware, 109. [125] 2 pet. ad. 268. pilots.--when a pilot, who is regularly appointed, is on board, he has the absolute control of the navigation of the vessel.[126] he is master for the time being, and is alone answerable for any damage occasioned by his own negligence or default.[127] [126] 1 johns. 305. [127] 1 pet. ad. 223. 1 mason, 508. a pilot may sue in admiralty for his wages.[128] [128] 1 mason, 508. a pilot cannot claim _salvage_ for any acts done within the limits of his duty, however useful and meritorious they may have been.[129] if towing is necessary, pilots are bound to perform it, having a claim for compensation for damages done to their boats, or for extra labor.[130] if extraordinary pilot service is performed, additional pilotage is the proper reward, and not salvage.[131] if, however, the acts done by the pilot are clearly without and beyond his duty as pilot, he may claim salvage.[132] [129] gilpin, 60. 10 peters r. 108. 2 hagg. 176. [130] 2 hagg. 176. [131] 2 hagg. 176. [132] 1 rob. 106. gilpin, 60. chapter vii. seamen. shipping contract. shipping contract--how formed--how signed. erasures and interlineations. unusual stipulations. by the law of the united states, in all foreign voyages, and in all coasting voyages to other than an adjoining state, there must be an agreement in writing, or in print, with every seaman on board the ship, (excepting only apprentices and servants of the master or owner,) declaring the voyage, and term or terms of time, for which such seaman is hired.[133] this contract is called the _shipping-articles_, and all the crew, including the master and officers, usually sign the same paper; it not being requisite that there should be a separate paper for each man. if there is not such a contract signed, each seaman could, by the old law, recover the highest rate of wages that had been given on similar voyages, at the port where he shipped, within three months next before the time of shipment.[134] by the law of 1840, he may, in such case, leave the vessel at any time, and demand the highest rate of wages given to any seaman during the voyage, or the rate agreed upon at the time of his shipment.[135] a seaman not signing the articles, is not bound by any of the regulations, nor subject to the penalties of the statutes;[136] but he is, notwithstanding, bound by the rules and liable to the forfeitures imposed by the general maritime law.[137] [133] act 1790, ch. 56, â§1. [134] act 1790, ch. 56, â§1. [135] act 1840, ch. 23, â§10. [136] act 1790, ch. 56, â§1. [137] 1 pet. ad. 212. these shipping-articles are legal evidence, and bind all parties whose names are annexed to them, both as to wages, the nature and length of the voyage, and the duties to be performed.[138] accordingly, seamen have certain rights secured to them with reference to these papers. in the first place, the master must obtain a copy of the articles, certified to by the collector of the port from which the vessel sails, to take with him upon the voyage. this must be a fair and true copy, without erasures or interlineations. if there are any such erasures or interlineations, they will be presumed to be fraudulent, and will be set aside, unless they are satisfactorily explained in a manner consistent with innocent purposes, and with the provisions of laws which guard the rights of mariners. these articles must be produced by the master before any consul or commercial agent to whom a seaman may have submitted a complaint.[139] [138] 3 mason, 161. act 1840, ch. 23, â§3. [139] act 1840, ch. 23, â§2, 19. every unusual clause introduced into the shipping-articles, or anything which tends to deprive a seaman of what he would be entitled to by the general law, will be suspiciously regarded by the courts; and if there is reason to suppose that any advantage has been taken of him, or if the contract bears unequally upon him, it will be set aside. in order to sustain such a clause, the master or owner must show two things: first, that the seaman's attention was directed toward it, and its operation and effect explained to him; and, secondly, that he received some additional compensation or privilege in consideration of the clause. unless the court is satisfied upon these two points, an unusual stipulation unfavorable to a seaman will be set aside.[140] for instance, seamen are entitled to have a medicine-chest on board, and in certain cases to be cured at the ship's expense; and the court set aside a clause in the shipping-articles in which it was stipulated that the seamen should bear all the expense, even though there were no medicine-chest on board.[141] another clause was set aside, in which the voyage was described as from baltimore to st. domingo and _elsewhere_, on the ground that seamen are entitled to have their voyage accurately described.[142] [140] 2 sumner, 443. 2 mason, 541. [141] 2 mason, 541. [142] 1 hall's law jour. 207. 2 gall. 477, 526. 2 dods. 504. gilp. 219. some clauses which are not such as to be set aside, will yet be construed in favor of seamen, if their interpretation is at all doubtful.[143] a clause providing that no wages should be paid if the vessel should be taken or lost, or detained more than thirty days, was set aside, seamen being entitled to wages up to the last port of delivery.[144] if the amount of wages merely be omitted in the articles, there seems to be some doubt as to the introduction of other evidence to show the rate agreed upon, and as to the seaman's being entitled by statute to the highest rate of wages current.[145] if a seaman ships for a general coasting and trading voyage to different ports in the united states, and the articles provide for no time or place at which the voyage shall end, the seaman may leave at any time, provided he does not do so under circumstances peculiarly inconvenient to the other party.[146] [143] 1 pet. ad. 186, 215. [144] 2 sumner, 443. [145] gilpin, 452. abb. on shipp. 434, note. act 1840, ch. 23, â§10. [146] ware, 437. if, however, the voyage is accurately described, and the wages specified, the seaman cannot be admitted to show that his contract was different from that contained in the articles.[147] [147] gilpin, 305. it is no violation of the contract if the vessel departs from the voyage described, by accident, necessity, or superior force.[148] [148] 2 hagg, 243. chapter viii. seamen--continued. rendering on board. refusal to proceed. desertion or absence during the voyage. discharge. rendering on board.--if, after having signed the articles, and after a time has been appointed for the seaman to render himself on board, he neglects to appear, and an entry to that effect is made in the log-book, he forfeits one day's pay for every hour of absence; and if the ship is obliged to proceed without him, he forfeits a sum equal to double his advance.[149] these forfeitures apply to the commencement of the voyage, and cannot be exacted unless a memorandum is made on the articles, and an entry in full in the log-book. a justice of the peace may, upon complaint of the master, issue a warrant to apprehend a deserting seaman, and commit him to jail until the vessel is ready to proceed upon her voyage. the master must, however, first show that the contract has been signed, and that the seaman departed without leave, and in violation of it.[150] [149] act 1790, ch. 56, â§2. [150] do. â§7. refusal to proceed.--if, after the voyage has begun, and before the vessel has left the land, the first officer and a majority of the crew shall agree that the vessel is unfit to proceed on the voyage, either from fault or deficiency in hull, spars, rigging, outfits, provisions, or crew, they may require the master to make the nearest or most convenient port, and have the matter inquired into by the district judge, or two justices of the peace, taking two or more of the complainants before the judge. thereupon the judge orders a survey, and decides whether the vessel is to proceed, or stop and be repaired and supplied; and both master and crew are bound by this decision. if the seamen and mate shall have made this complaint without reason, and from improper motives, they are liable to be charged with the expenses attending it.[151] [151] do. â§3. if, when the vessel is in a foreign port, the first or any other officer and a majority of the crew shall make complaint, in writing, to the consul, that the ship is unfit to proceed to sea, for any of the above reasons, the consul shall order an examination, in the same manner; and the decision of the consul shall bind all parties. if the consul shall decide that the vessel was sent to sea in an unsuitable condition, by neglect or design, the crew shall be entitled to their discharge and three months' additional pay; but not if it was done by accident or innocent mistake.[152] [152] act 1840, ch. 23, â§12--15. it is no justification for refusing to do duty and proceed upon the voyage, that a new master has been substituted in place of the one under whom the seaman originally shipped;[153] and if a blank is left for the name of the master, the seaman is supposed to ship under any who may be appointed.[154] the same rule applies to the substitution or appointment of any other officer of the ship during the voyage. [153] 1 mason, 443. bee, 48. 2 sum. 582. [154] 6 mass. 300. desertion or absence during the voyage.--if, during the voyage, the seaman absents himself without leave, for less than forty-eight hours, and an entry thereof is made in full in the log-book, he forfeits three days' pay for each day's absence. but if the absence exceeds forty-eight hours, he forfeits all his wages then due, and all his goods and chattels on board the vessel at the time, and is liable to the owner in damages for the expense of hiring another seaman.[155] if he deserts within the limits of the united states, he is liable to be arrested and committed to jail, until the vessel sails.[156] if he deserts or absents himself in a foreign port, the consul is empowered to make use of the authorities of the place to reclaim him. if, however, the consul is satisfied that the desertion was caused by unusual or cruel treatment, the seaman may be discharged, and shall receive three months' additional wages.[157] it is not a desertion for a seaman to leave his vessel for the purpose of procuring necessary food, which has been refused on board; nor is a seaman liable if the conduct of the master has been such as to make it dangerous for him to remain on board,[158] or if the shipping-articles have been fraudulently altered.[159] even in a clear case of desertion, if the party repents, and seeks to return to his duty within a reasonable time, he is entitled to be received on board again, unless his previous conduct had been such as would justify his discharge.[160] [155] act 1790, ch. 56, â§5. [156] act 1790, ch. 56, â§7. [157] act 1840, ch. 23, â§9. [158] 1 hagg. 63. [159] do. 182. [160] 1 sumner, 373. as to the effect of desertion upon wages, and what is desertion in such cases, see the subject, "wages affected by desertion," chapter xi. discharge.--by referring to chapter iv., "master's relation to crew," the seaman will find that, though the master has power to discharge a seaman for gross and repeated misconduct, yet that this right is closely watched, and any abuse of it is severely punished. he will also find there a statement of his own rights and privileges, with reference to a discharge. it has been seen that he may demand his discharge of the consul, if the vessel is not fit to proceed, and is not repaired, or if he has been cruelly and unjustifiably treated.[161] [161] act 1840, ch. 23, â§9, 14. if a vessel has been so much injured that it is doubtful whether she can be repaired, or the repairs cannot be made for a long time, during which it would be a great expense to the owners to support the seamen in a foreign country, it is held that the crew may be discharged, upon the owners' paying their passage home, and their wages up to the time of their arrival at the place of shipment.[162] [162] 2 dodson, 403. as to discharge at the end of the voyage, see "wages affected by desertion," chapter xi. chapter ix. seamen--continued. provisions. sickness. medicine-chest. hospital money. relief in foreign ports. protection. provisions.--for the benefit of seamen it has been enacted that every vessel bound on a voyage across the atlantic, shall have on board, well secured under deck, at least sixty gallons of water, one hundred pounds of wholesome ship bread, and one hundred pounds of salted flesh meat, over and above the stores of master or passengers, and the live stock. and if the crew of any vessel not so provided shall be put upon short allowance of water, flesh, or bread, such seaman shall recover from the master double wages for every day he was so allowanced.[163] the same rule applies to other voyages than those across the atlantic, and the amount of provisions stowed below must be in proportion to the length of the voyage, compared with one across the atlantic.[164] it also applies to seamen shipped in foreign ports, as well as to those shipped in the united states.[165] it has been thought that if the articles enumerated cannot be procured, the master may substitute other wholesome provisions; but it is doubtful whether even this will free him from the penalty; at least it will not unless he can show that it was impossible to procure them at the last port of departure.[166] [163] act 1790, ch. 56, â§9. [164] do. [165] 1 pet. ad. 223. [166] 1 pet. ad. 229, 223. bee, 80 abb. 135, note. ware, 454. besides this special enactment, a seaman may always recover damages of a master who unnecessarily and wantonly deprives him of sufficient food and nourishment.[167] if, however, the short allowance is caused by inevitable accident, without any fault of the master or owner, or is a matter of fair discretion in a case of common danger, the master is not liable. another law of the united states provides that if any master or other officer shall wilfully and without justifiable cause withhold suitable food and nourishment from a seaman, he shall be fined not exceeding $1000 and imprisoned not exceeding five years.[168] the master may at any time, at his discretion, put the crew upon an allowance of water and eatables; but if it is a short allowance, he must be able to give a justifying reason. [167] 2 pet. ad. 409. [168] act 1835, ch. 313, â§3. sickness. medicine-chest.--every vessel of one hundred and fifty tons or upwards, navigated by ten or more persons in all, and bound on a voyage beyond the united states, and every vessel of seventy-five tons or upwards, navigated by six or more persons in the whole, and bound from the united states to any port in the west indies, is required to have a chest of medicines, put up by an apothecary of known reputation, and accompanied by directions for administering the same. the chest must also be examined at least once a year, and supplied with fresh medicines.[169] [169] act 1790, ch. 56, â§8; 1805, ch. 88, â§1. in case of dispute, the owner must prove the sufficiency of the medicine-chest. it does not lie with the seaman to prove its insufficiency.[170] [170] 2 mason, 541. if a vessel has a suitable medicine-chest on board, it would seem that the ship is not to be charged with the medicines and medical advice which a seaman may need. but the ship is still liable for the expenses of his nursing, care, diet, and lodging.[171] accordingly, if a seaman is put on shore at a hospital or elsewhere, for his cure, the ship is chargeable with so much of the expense as is incurred for nursing, care, diet, and lodging; and unless the owner can specify the items of the charge, and show how much was for medical advice, and how much for other expenses, he must pay the whole.[172] the seaman is to be cured at the expense of the ship, of a sickness or injury sustained in the ship's service;[173] but if he contracts a disease by his own fault or vices, the ship is not chargeable.[174] a sick seaman is entitled to proper nursing, lodging, and diet. if these cannot be had, or are not furnished on board the vessel, he is entitled to be taken on shore to a hospital, or to some place where these can be obtained. it is often attempted to be shown that the seaman was put on shore at his own request. this is no defence. he is entitled to be put on shore if his disease requires it; and it is seldom that proper care can be taken of a seaman on board ship.[175] [171] 2 mason, 541. 1 sumner, 151. [172] 1 pet. ad. 256, note. [173] 1 sumner, 195. [174] gilpin, 435. 1 pet. ad. 142, 152. [175] 1 pet. ad. 256, note. if a seaman requires further medicines and medical advice than the chest and directions can give, and is not sent ashore, it would seem that the ship ought to bear the expense; but this point has never been decided.[176] if the medicine-chest can furnish all he needs, the ship is exempted.[177] [176] gilpin, 435. 1 pet. ad. 142, 152, 255. [177] 2 mason, 541. hospital money.--every seaman must pay twenty cents a month, out of his wages, for hospital money. this goes to the establishment and support of hospitals for sick and disabled seamen.[178] [178] act 1798, ch. 94, â§1. relief in foreign ports.--if a vessel is sold in a foreign port and her crew discharged, or if a seaman is discharged with his own consent, he can receive two months' extra wages of the consul, who must obtain it of the master.[179] this applies only to the voluntary sale of the vessel, and not when the sale is rendered necessary by shipwreck. if, however, after the disaster the vessel might have been repaired at a reasonable expense and in a reasonable time, but the owner chooses to sell, the two months' pay is due. to escape the payment, the owner must show that he was obliged to sell.[180] [179] act 1803, ch. 62, â§3. [180] ware, 485. gilpin, 198. it is also the duty of the consuls to provide subsistence and a passage to the united states for any american seamen found destitute within their districts. the seamen must, if able, do duty on board the vessel in which they are sent home, according to their several abilities.[181] [181] act 1803, ch. 62, â§4. the crew of every vessel shall have the fullest liberty to lay their complaints before the consul or commercial agent in any foreign port, and shall in no respect be restrained or hindered therein by the master or any officer, unless sufficient and valid objection exist against their landing. in which case, if any seaman desire to see the consul, the master must inform the consul of it forthwith; stating, in writing, the reason why the seaman is not permitted to land, and that the consul is desired to come on board. whereupon the consul must proceed on board and inquire into the causes of complaint.[182] [182] act 1840, ch. 23, â§1. protection.--every american seaman, upon applying to the collector of the port from which he departs, and producing proof of his citizenship, is entitled to a letter of protection. the collector may charge for this twenty-five cents.[183] [183] act 1796, ch. 36, â§4. chapter x. seamen--continued. punishment. revolt and mutiny. embezzlement. piracy. punishment.--as to the right of the master to punish a seaman by corporal chastisement, imprisonment on shore, confinement on board, &c., and the extent of that right, and the master's liability for exceeding it,--the seaman is referred to chapter iv., "the master's relation to the crew," title, "imprisonment" and "punishment." he will there see that the master possesses this right to a limited extent, and that he is strictly answerable for the abuse of it. disobedience of orders, combinations to refuse duty, dishonest conduct, personal insolence, and habitual negligence and backwardness, are all causes which justify punishment in a greater or less degree. the contract which a seaman makes with the master, is not like that of a man who engages in any service on shore. it is somewhat military in its nature.[184] the master has great responsibilities resting upon him, and is entitled to instant and implicit obedience. to ensure this, regular and somewhat strict discipline must be preserved. the master, also, cannot obtain assistance when at sea, as any one can who is in authority upon land. he must depend upon the habits of faithful and respectful discharge of duty which his crew have acquired, and if this fails, he may resort to force. he is answerable for the safety of the ship, and for the safe keeping and delivery of valuable cargoes, and in almost all cases he is the first person to whom the owner of the vessel and cargo will look for indemnity. considering this, the seamen will feel that it is not unreasonable that the master should have power to protect himself and all for whom he acts, even by force if necessary.[185] a good seaman, who is able and willing to do his duty faithfully and at all times, and treats his officers respectfully, will seldom be abused; and if he is, the master is liable to him personally in damages, and is also subject to be indicted by the government and tried as a criminal. a seaman should be warned against taking the law into his own hands. if the treatment he receives is unjustifiable, he should still submit to it, if possible, until the voyage is up, or until he arrives at some port where he can make complaint. if he is conscious that he is not to blame, and an assault is made upon him unjustifiably and with dangerous severity, he may defend himself; but he should not attempt to punish the offender, or to inflict anything in the way of retaliation.[186] [184] ware, 86. 3 wash. 515. [185] ware, 219. [186] do. 3 wash. 552. in chapter vi., title, "mates," the reader will see how far any inferior officer of a vessel may use force with a seaman. revolt and mutiny.--if any one or more of the crew of an american vessel shall by fraud or force, or by threats or intimidations, take the command of the vessel from the master or other commanding officer, or resist or prevent him in the free and lawful exercise of his authority, or transfer the command to any other person not lawfully entitled to it; every person so offending, and his aiders and abbettors, shall be deemed guilty of a revolt or mutiny and felony; and shall be punished by fine not exceeding $2000, and by imprisonment and confinement to hard labor not exceeding ten years, according to the nature and aggravation of the offence.[187] and if any seaman shall endeavor to commit a revolt or mutiny, or shall combine with others on board to make a revolt or mutiny, or shall solicit or incite any of the crew to disobey or resist the lawful orders of the master or other officer, or to refuse or neglect their proper duty on board, or shall assemble with others in a riotous or mutinous manner, or shall unlawfully confine the master or other commanding officer,--every person committing any one or more of these offences shall be imprisoned not exceeding five years, or fined not exceeding $1000, or both, according to the nature and aggravation of the offence.[188] [187] act 1835, ch. 313, â§1. [188] do. â§2. it will be seen that the first of these laws applies only to cases where seamen actually throw off all authority, deprive the master of his command, and assume the control themselves, which is to make a revolt. the last is designed to punish endeavors and combinations to make a revolt, which are not fully carried out. every little instance of disobedience, or insolent conduct, or even force used against the master or other officer, will not be held a revolt or an endeavor to make a revolt. there must be something showing an intention to subvert the lawful authority of the master.[189] it does not excuse seamen, however, from this offence, that they confined their refusal to one particular portion of their duty. if that duty was lawfully required of them, it is equally a subversion of authority as if they had refused all duty.[190] [189] 4 wash. 528. 1 pet. ad. 178. [190] 4 mason, 105. if the crew interfere by force or threats to prevent the infliction of punishment for a gross offence, it is an endeavor to commit a revolt.[191] [191] 1 sumner, 448. to constitute the offence of confining the master, it is not necessary that he should be forcibly secured in any particular place, or even that his body should be seized and held; any act which deprives him of his personal liberty in going about the ship, or prevents his doing his duty freely, (if done with that intention,[192]) is a confinement.[193] so is a threat of immediate bodily injury, if made in such a manner as would reasonably intimidate a man of ordinary firmness.[194] [192] 4 wash. 428. [193] 4 mason, 105. 4 wash. 548. 1 sumner, 448. 3 wash. 525. [194] pet. c. c. 213. in all these cases of revolt, mutiny, endeavors to commit the same, and confinement of the master, it is to be remembered that the acts are excusable if done from a sufficient justifying cause. the master may so conduct himself as to justify the officers and crew in placing restraints upon him, to prevent his committing acts which might endanger the lives of all the persons on board. but an excuse of this kind is received with great caution, and the crew should be well assured of the necessity of such a step, before taking it, since they run a great risk in so interfering.[195] [195] 4 mason, 105. 1 sumner, 448. pet. c. c. 118. embezzlement.--if any of the crew steal, or appropriate, or by gross negligence suffer to be stolen, any part of the cargo, or anything belonging to the ship, they are responsible for the value of everything stolen or appropriated. it is necessary that the fraud, connivance, or negligence of a seaman should be proved against him, before he can be charged with anything lost or stolen; and in no case is an innocent man bound to contribute towards a loss occasioned by the misconduct of another. if, however, it is clearly proved that the whole crew were concerned, but one offender is not known more than another, and the circumstances are such as to affect all the crew, each man is to contribute to the loss, unless he clears himself from the suspicion.[196] [196] 1 mason, 104. gilpin, 461. piracy.--if the master or crew of a vessel shall, upon the high seas, seize upon or rob the master or crew of another vessel; or if they shall run away with the vessel committed to their charge, or any goods to the amount of $50; or voluntarily yield them up to pirates; or if the crew shall prevent the master by violence from fighting in the defence of vessel or property; such conduct is piracy, and punishable with death.[197] [197] act 1790, ch. 36, â§8; 1820, ch. 113, â§3. it is also piracy, and punishable with death, to be engaged in any foreign country in kidnapping any negro or mulatto, or in decoying or receiving them on board a vessel with the intention of making them slaves.[198] [198] act 1820, ch. 113, â§4, 5. chapter xi. seamen's wages. affected by desertion or absence;--by misconduct;--by imprisonment;--by capture;--by loss of vessel and interruption of voyage. wages on an illegal voyage. wages affected by death or disability. wages affected by desertion or absence.--it has been seen that if a seaman, at the commencement of the voyage, neglects to render himself on board at the time appointed, and an entry thereof is made in the log-book, he forfeits one day's pay for every hour's absence; and if he shall wholly absent himself, so that the ship is obliged to go to sea without him, he forfeits his advance and as much more.[199] and if at any time during the voyage he absents himself without leave, and returns within forty-eight hours, he forfeits three days' pay for every day's absence; but if he is absent more than forty-eight hours, he forfeits all the wages then due him, and all his clothes and goods on board at the time.[200] these forfeitures cannot be exacted against the seaman unless there is an entry made in the log-book on the same day that he left, specifying the name of the seaman, and that he was absent without leave.[201] [199] act 1790, ch. 56, â§2. [200] do. â§4. [201] gilpin, 83, 140, 207. ware, 309. but independently of these regulations, and without the necessity of any entry, &c., a seaman forfeits his wages for deserting the vessel, or absenting himself wrongfully and without leave, by the general law of all commercial nations.[202] if, however, the seaman is absent without fault of his own,[203] or if he is obliged to desert by reason of cruel treatment, want of food, or the like, he does not forfeit his wages. but in such case, the seaman must prove that the treatment was such that he could not remain without imminent danger to his life, limbs, or health.[204] if the voyage for which he shipped has been abandoned, or there has been a gross and unnecessary deviation, he does not forfeit his wages for leaving the vessel; but then the change of voyage must have been actually determined upon and known to the seaman.[205] [202] ware, 309. [203] 1 mason, 45. bee, 134, 48. gilpin, 225. [204] 1 pet. ad. 186. gilpin, 225. 2 pet. ad. 420, 428. ware, 83, 91, 109. [205] gilpin, 150. 2 pet. ad. 415. even if the seaman shall have clearly deserted without justifiable cause, or absented himself more than forty-eight hours, yet, if he shall offer to return and do his duty, the master must receive him, unless his previous conduct would justify a discharge.[206] and if he is so received back, and does his duty faithfully for the rest of the voyage, the forfeiture is considered as remitted, and he is entitled to his wages for the whole voyage.[207] if, however, the owner has suffered any special damage from the wrongful absence of the seaman, as, if the vessel has been detained, or a man hired in his place, all such necessary expenses may be deducted from the wages.[208] [206] 1 sumner, 373. [207] 2 wash. 272. gilpin, 145. 1 sumner, 373. 1 pet. ad. 160. [208] gilpin, 145, 298, 98. a mere leaving of the vessel, though a wrongful absence, is not a desertion, unless it is done with the intention to desert.[209] a seaman is bound to load and unload cargo in the course of the voyage if required of him, and a refusal to do so is a refusal of duty.[210] if the voyage is at an end, according to the articles, and the vessel is safely moored at the port of discharge, the seamen are still bound to discharge the cargo if it is required of them. if they do not, their refusal or neglect does not, however, work a forfeiture of all their wages, but only makes them liable to a deduction, as compensation to the owner for any damage he may have suffered.[211] the custom in almost all sea-ports of the united states is, to discharge the crew, and not to require them to unload cargo at the end of the voyage. this custom is so strong that if the owner or master wishes to retain the crew, he must give them notice to that effect. unless the crew are distinctly told that they must remain and discharge cargo, they may leave the vessel as soon as she is safely moored, or made fast. if they are required to remain and discharge cargo, they make themselves liable to a deduction from their wages for a neglect or refusal, but do not forfeit them.[212] the seaman must bear in mind, however, that this is only when the voyage is at an end, and the ship is at the final port of discharge. if he refuses to load or unload at any port in the course of the voyage, and before it is up, according to the articles, he does so at the risk of forfeiting all his wages.[213] [209] 1 sumner, 373. ware, 309. [210] 1 pet. ad. 253. [211] 1 sumner, 373. gilpin, 208. ware, 454. 2 hagg. 40. [212] 1 sumner, 373. gilpin, 208. [213] 1 pct. ad. 253. the master and owners of a vessel are allowed ten days after the voyage is up, before a suit can be brought against them for the wages of the crew.[214] this is in order to give them time to settle all accounts and discover delinquencies. if the crew are retained to unload, then the ten days begin to run from the time the vessel is completely unloaded. but if the crew are not retained for this purpose, but are discharged and allowed to leave the vessel, then the ten days begin to run from the day they are discharged.[215] [214] act 1790, ch. 56, â§6. [215] 1 pet. ad. 165, 210. ware, 458. dunl. ad. pr. 99. wages affected by misconduct.--a seaman may forfeit his wages by gross misconduct; and if not forfeited, he may be liable to have a deduction made from them, for any damage caused to the owner by such misconduct. to create a forfeiture, his misbehavior must be gross and aggravated.[216] a single act of disobedience, or a single neglect of duty, will not deprive him of his wages.[217] a refusal to do duty in a moment of high excitement caused by punishment will not forfeit wages, unless followed by obstinate perseverance in such refusal.[218] where _drunkenness_ is habitual and gross, so as to create a general incapacity to perform duty, it is a ground of forfeiture of wages. but occasional acts of drunkenness, if the seaman in other respects performs his duty, will not deprive him of his wages.[219] in this, as in all cases of neglect, disobedience, or wilful misconduct, which do not create a forfeiture, a deduction may be made if the owner has suffered any loss.[220] [216] 4 mason, 84. bee, 148. [217] 4 mason, 84. [218] do. [219] 2 hagg. 2. 4 mason, 541. [220] 4 mason, 541. i sumner, 384. bee, 237. 2 hagg. 420. gilpin, 140. 1 pet. ad. 168. in one instance a forfeiture of one half of a seaman's wages was decreed, in consequence of his striking the master. he did not forfeit the whole, because he had been otherwise punished.[221] [221] bee. 184. if the seaman is imprisoned for misconduct, he does not forfeit the wages that accrued during his confinement, nor, what amounts to the same thing, is he bound to pay those of a person hired in his place during his imprisonment.[222] [222] gilpin, 83, 140, 33. ware, 9. if the crime of a seaman is against the laws of the united states, and too great for the master's authority to punish, he must be confined and brought home to trial. but this does not forfeit his wages, though any loss or damage to the owner may be deducted.[223] [223] 1 pet. ad. 168. in all cases of forfeiture of wages for misconduct, it is only the wages due at the time of the misconduct that are lost. the wages subsequently earned are not affected by any previous misbehavior.[224] [224] 4 mason, 84. if a seaman or officer is evidently incapable of doing the duty he shipped for, he may be put upon other duty, and a reasonable deduction may be made from his wages.[225] [225] ware, 109. wages affected by imprisonment.--if a seaman is imprisoned by a warrant from a judge or justice of the peace, within the limits of the united states, for desertion or refusal to render himself on board, he is liable to pay the cost of his commitment and support in jail, as well as the wages of any person hired in his place.[226] so, if a seaman is imprisoned in a foreign port by the authorities of the place for a breach of their laws, the costs and loss to the owner may be deducted from his wages; but not so if he is imprisoned at the request of the master.[227] the right of the master to imprison at all is a doubtful one, and dangerous of exercise; and if he does resort to it, he can never charge the expenses to the seamen, nor deduct their wages during imprisonment.[228] [226] gilpin, 223. [227] gilpin, 223. [228] ware, 18, 503, gilpin, 83, 233. wages affected by capture.--if a neutral ship is captured, it is the right and duty of the seamen to remain by the vessel until the case is finally settled.[229] if she is liberated, they are then entitled to their wages for the whole voyage; and if freight is decreed, they are entitled to their wages for as much of the voyage as freight is given.[230] and if at any future time the owners recover the vessel, or her value, upon appeal or by treaty, they are liable for wages.[231] in order to secure his wages in these cases, the seaman must remain by the vessel until her sale or condemnation, and the master cannot oblige him to take his discharge.[232] the condemnation or sale of the vessel puts an end to his contract. if he leaves before the condemnation or sale, with the master's consent, he does not lose his chance of recovering his wages.[233] even if the vessel is condemned, and the owner never recovers the vessel or its value, yet the seaman is entitled to his wages up to the last port of delivery, and for half the time she lay there.[234] [229] 2 sumner, 443. 1 pet. ad. 128. [230] 2 gall. 178. 2 sumner, 443. [231] 3 mason, 161. [232] 1 mason, 45. [233] 1 mason, 45. [234] 1 pet. ad. 203. wages affected by loss of vessel or interruption of voyage.--if a vessel meets with a disaster, it is the duty of the crew to remain by her so long as they can do it with safety, and to exert themselves to the utmost of their ability to save as much as possible of the vessel and cargo.[235] if they abandon the vessel unnecessarily, they forfeit all their wages; and if their leaving was necessary and justifiable, yet they lose their wages except up to the last port of delivery and for half the time the vessel was lying there, or for so long as she was engaged with the outward cargo.[236] this rule may seem hard, but its object is to secure the services of the crew in case of a disaster. if by their exertions any parts of the vessel or cargo are saved, they are entitled to wages, and an extra sum for salvage.[237] if the vessel is abandoned and nothing is saved, they lose their wages, except up to the last port of delivery and for half the time the vessel was lying there.[238] [235] ware, 49. 1 pet. 204. [236] pet. c. c. 182. 3 sumner, 286. [237] ware, 49. gilpin, 79. 2 mason, 319. i hagg. 227. [238] 2 mason, 329. 1 pet. ad. 204, 130; 2 do. 391. 11 mass. 545. the general rule is, that a seaman's wages are secure to him whenever the vessel has earned any freight, whatever may afterwards happen. and a vessel earns freight at every port where she delivers any cargo. for the benefit of seamen a vessel is held to earn freight whenever she goes to a port under a contract for freight, though she go in ballast.[239] a seaman also secures his wages wherever the ship might have earned freight but for the agreement or other act of the owner.[240] if a vessel is on a trading voyage from port to port, and is lost on the homeward passage, wages would probably be allowed for the outward passage, and for half the time she was engaged in trading with the old or new cargoes; the trading and going from port to port being considered the same as though she had been lying in port all the time, and discharging and receiving cargo. or else, wages would be given up to the last port at which she took in any return cargo, and for half the time she was lying there.[241] [239] 2 mason, 319. 1 pet. ad. 207. [240] 3 sumner, 286. 2 mason, 319. 2 hagg. 158. [241] pet. c. c. 182. 2 pet. ad. 390. these rules apply only to cases where the voyage is broken up by inevitable accidents, as by perils of the seas, capture, war or superior force. if the voyage is broken up by the fault of the seamen, they lose all their wages. if, on the other hand, the seamen are compelled to leave, or the voyage is broken up by the fault of the master or owner, as by cruel treatment, want of provisions, or the like, the crew would be justly entitled to wages for the whole voyage contracted for. if the vessel is sold, or the voyage altered or abandoned by the master or owner, not from inevitable necessity, but for their own interest and convenience, then the crew are entitled, by statute, to wages for all the time they were on board, and two months' extra pay.[242] and, by the general law, they would always receive some extra wages as a compensation for the loss of the voyage, and as a means of supporting themselves and procuring a passage home; or, perhaps, full wages for the voyage.[243] [242] act 1803, ch. 62, â§3. [243] 2 pet. ad. 264. bee, 48. 2 gall. 182. 3 johns. r. 518. wages on an illegal voyage.--a seaman has no remedy for his wages upon an illegal voyage; as, for instance, in the slave trade.[244] wages have, however, been allowed, where it was proved that the seaman was innocent of all knowledge of, or participation in, the illegal voyage.[245] [244] 9 wheat. 409. 6 rob. 207. 2 mason, 58. edw. 35. [245] 9 wheat. 409. wages affected by death or disability.--if a seaman dies during the voyage, wages are to be paid up to the time of his death.[246] a seaman is entitled to all his wages during sickness, and during any time he was disabled from performing duty. but if his sickness or disability is brought on by his own fault, as by vice or wilful misconduct, a deduction may be made for the loss of his services.[247] so, where the death of a seaman was caused by his own unjustifiable and wrongful acts, his wages were held forfeited.[248] if a seaman, at the time he ships, is laboring under a disease which incapacitates or is likely to incapacitate him during the voyage, and he conceals the same, no wages will be allowed him, or a deduction will be made from them, according to the nature of the case.[249] if, in consequence of sickness, a seaman is left at a foreign port, he is still entitled to wages for the whole voyage.[250] [246] bee, 254, 441. [247] 1 pet. ad. 142, 138. [248] do. 142. [249] 2 pet. ad. 263. [250] bee, 414. 2 gall. 46. 1 pet. ad. 117. chapter xii. seamen--concluded. recovery of wages. interest on wages. salvage. recovery of wages.--a seaman has a threefold remedy for his wages: first, against the master; secondly, against the owners; and, thirdly, against the ship itself and the freight earned.[251] he may pursue any one of these, or he may pursue them all at the same time in courts of admiralty. he has what is called a _lien_ upon the ship for his wages; that is, he has a right, at any time, to seize the vessel by a process of law, and retain it until his claim is paid, or otherwise decided upon by the court. this lien does not cease upon the sailing of the ship on another voyage; and the vessel may be taken notwithstanding there is a new master and different owners.[252] a seaman does not lose his lien upon the ship by lapse of time. he may take the ship whenever he finds her; though he must not allow a long time to elapse if he has had any opportunity of enforcing his claim, lest it should be considered a stale demand. in common law courts a suit cannot be brought for wages after six years have expired since they became due. this is not the case in courts of admiralty.[253] [251] bee, 254. 2 sumner, 443. 2 gall. 398. [252] 2 sumner, 443. 5 pet. r. 675. [253] 2 gall. 477. paine c. c. 180. 3 mason, 91. the lien of the seaman for wages takes precedence of every other lien or claim upon the vessel.[254] the seaman's wages must be first paid, even if they take up the whole value of the ship or freight. the wreck of a ship is bound for the wages, and the rule in admiralty is, that a seaman's claim on the ship is good so long as there is a plank of her left.[255] if, after capture and condemnation, the ship itself is not restored, but the owners are indemnified in money, the seaman's lien attaches to such proceeds.[256] [254] ware, 134, 41. [255] sumner, 50. 1 ware, 41. [256] 5 pet. r. 675. besides this lien upon the ship, the seaman has also a lien upon the freight earned, and upon the cargo.[257] he may also sue the owner or master, or both, personally. they are, however, answerable _personally_ only for the wages earned while the ship was in their own hands.[258] but a suit may be brought against the _ship_ after she has changed owners.[259] [257] ware, 134. 5 pet. r. 675. [258] 11 johns. 72. 6 mass. 300; 8 do. 483. [259] 5 pet. r. 675. 2 sumner, 443. a seaman does not lose his lien upon the vessel by taking an order upon the owner.[260] [260] ware, 185. after a vessel is abandoned to the underwriters, they become liable for the seamen's wages, from the time of the abandonment.[261] [261] 4 mason, 196. if, at the end of the voyage, the crew are discharged and not retained to unload, their wages are due immediately;[262] but they cannot sue in admiralty until ten days after the day of discharge.[263] if they are retained to unload, then the owner is allowed ten days from the time the cargo is fully discharged. if, however, the vessel is about to proceed to sea before the ten days will elapse, or before the cargo will be unloaded, the seaman may attach the vessel immediately.[264] if the owner retains his crew while the cargo is unloading, he must unload it within a reasonable time. fifteen working days has frequently been held a reasonable time for unloading, and the ten days have been allowed to run from that time.[265] [262] ware, 458. dunl. ad. pr. 99. 1 pet. ad 165, 210. [263] act 1790, ch. 56, â§6. [264] do. [265] 1 pet. ad. 165. abb. shipp. 456, n. the longest time allowed by law for unloading vessels is twenty days, if over 300 tons, and ten days, if under that tonnage. probably seamen would not be held bound to the vessel for a longer time than is thus allowed by law for unloading. interest on wages.--in suits for seamen's wages, interest is allowed from the time of the demand; and if no demand is proved, then from the time of the commencement of the suit.[266] [266] 2 gall. 45. salvage.--if a vessel is picked up at sea abandoned, or in distress, and any of the crew of the vessel which falls in with her go on board, and are the means of saving her, or of bringing her into port, they are entitled to salvage.[267] in this case, all the crew who are ready and willing to engage in the service are entitled to a share of the reward, although they may not have gone on board the wreck.[268] the reason is, that where all are ready to go, and a selection is made, there would be injustice and favoritism in allowing any one the privilege more than another. besides, those who remain have an extra duty to perform in consequence of the others having gone on board the wreck.[269] [267] ware, 477. 1 pet. ad. 306. [268] ware, 477. 2 pet. ad. 281. [269] 2 dodson, 132. crews are not ordinarily entitled to salvage for services performed on board their own vessel, whatever may have been their perils or hardships, or the gallantry of their services in saving ship and cargo;[270] for some degree of extra exertion to meet perils and accidents, is within the scope of a seaman's duty. in case of shipwreck, however, where, by the general law, wages are forfeited, the court will allow salvage, considering it as in the nature of wages due. in one instance salvage was refused to a part of a crew who rescued the ship from the rest who had mutinied; for this was held to be no more than their duty.[271] [270] 10 pet. r. 108. 1 hagg. 227. [271] 2 dods. 14. yet seamen may entitle themselves to salvage for services performed on board their own vessel, if clearly beyond the line of their regular duty; as, when the crew rise and rescue the vessel from the enemy after she has been taken.[272] so, where a ship was abandoned at sea, and one or two men voluntarily remained behind, and by great exertions brought her into port.[273] if an apprentice is a salvor, he, and not his master, is entitled to the salvage.[274] if one set of men go on board a wreck, but fall into distress and are relieved by others, they do not lose their claim for salvage, but each set of salvors shares according to the merit of its services. if the second set take advantage of the necessity and distress of the first salvors to impose terms upon them, as, that they shall give up all claim for salvage, such conditions will not be regarded by the court.[275] [272] 1 pet. ad. 306. [273] 2 cr. 240. 1 pet. ad. 48. [274] 2 cr. 240. 2 pet. ad. 282. [275] 1 sumner, 400. storm warriors: or, life-boat work on the goodwin sands. by the rev. john gilmore, m.a., rector of holy trinity, ramsgate; author of "the ramsgate life-boat," in macmillan's magazine. _fourth thousand._ london: macmillan and co. 1875. [_all rights reserved._] [illustration: life-boat] london: printed by william clowes and sons. stamford street and charing cross. to the most beloved memory of my late father, john gilmore, commander, r.n., and to the most beloved memory of my late eldest brother, robert graham gilmore, capt., r.n.r., two most brave, and skilful, and true, and loving-hearted sailors, who have passed in faith and peace to the haven that they humbly sought, i inscribe this work. j. g. preface. "o mamma, i do hope that we shall be wrecked on the goodwin sands, that we may be saved by the brave life-boat men!" "you horrid boy, hold your tongue, do," replied the mamma, who was anticipating, with some degree of nervousness, starting upon a voyage for australia in about three weeks' time, and could scarcely be expected to enter to the full into her young son's very practical enthusiasm. but within the last half hour the boy's shrill voice had been heard at the ramsgate pier-head, among the cheers that welcomed the life-boat back from a night of toil and triumph on the goodwin; and for the present, to be saved from a wreck by the life-boat men is to him one of the most delightful ideas on earth. after reading an article in 'macmillan's' of the life-boat men's doings, a brave english admiral, then commanding a fleet, wrote--"my heart warms to the gallant fellows; tell them so, and please give them the enclosed (a guinea each) from an english admiral without mentioning my name." a kentish squire, sending a donation of a guinea for each of the men wrote,--"to read the brave self-sacrificing doings of the ramsgate life-boat men, makes me proud of the men of my county." other gentlemen wrote, and ladies wrote, and by-and-by we heard from australia, america, south america, and also from other parts of the world came evidence, that english hearts, wherever they are, cannot but feel deeply as they read the simple narrative of such gallant deeds. "your life-boat stories have undoubtedly helped on the good life-boat cause," said mr. lewis. "the public have evinced considerable interest in those tales of life-boat work," said mr. macmillan; and so the idea grew that i must write a book about the life-boat work on the goodwin sands. a formidable idea this for a man with no "learned leisure," and quite unconscious of possessing any especial literary skill, or any especial literary ambition. certainly, i could have no difficulty in obtaining full and abundant particulars of the various adventures of the life-boat. it was gravely said to a friend of mine,--"it is really very wrong of mr. gilmore, as a family man, to risk his life in the life-boat." i have been able to get all particulars without risking my life, and without, which is not much less to the point, lumbering up the boat with a useless hand; moreover, i doubt whether i should have had very keen powers of observation, while cold and exhausted and breathless, and clinging for very life to the thwarts, with the seas rushing over me, and tearing at me, striving to wash me out of the boat; which would have been my condition and very soon the condition of any unseasoned landsman who went to share the strife which the experienced boatmen often find it hard enough to endure. i have managed better: i have had sometimes two, three, or four boatmen up to my house; and we have fought their battles over again; i questioning and cross-questioning, getting particulars from them, small as well as great. "what did you do next?" to one such question, i remember the answer was--"why then we handed the jar of rum round, for we were almost beaten to death."--"but with the seas running over the boat, and the boat full of water, it must have been salt-water grog very soon--how did you manage it?"--"well, sir, when there was a lull, a man just took a nip; then if there was a cry, 'look out! a sea!' he put the jar down between his legs, shoved his thumb in the hole, held on to the thwart with his other arm, then bent well over the jar and let the sea break on his back." thus getting them to recall incident after incident, i got the full details of each adventure; and when we arrived at the more stirring scenes, it was very exciting work indeed; the men could scarcely sit in their chairs--their muscles worked, faces flushed, and most graphically they told their tales, i, not one whit less excited, taking notes as rapidly as possible. truly i must live to be an old man before i forget the hours i have spent in my study with jarman, hogben, and reading, and r. goldsmith, and bill penny, and gorham, and solly, and some other of my brave boatmen friends, as they have told me their many experiences and toils and dangers in life-boat work. to jarman especially do i owe thanks for his many graphic narratives; he was coxswain of the boat for ten years, and during the time of most of the adventures related. one difficulty i have had to contend with has been the comparative sameness in the ordinary life-boat services. i could have had nine narratives in one especial fortnight, for nine times was the life-boat out during that time; but it has taken nearly ten years for me to find a sufficient number of narratives so varying in their chief incidents that the book should not of necessity be wearisome from repetition, and at the same time give a picture of the varied experiences and dangers of life-boat work. i must leave my readers to judge how far i have gained my object in the selection i have made. as the few life-boat stories i have already published have been used to some extent in public readings, penny readings, and on the like occasions, i have thought it well to make each story, as far as possible, complete in itself, although to effect this, some repetition of similar incidents has been unavoidable. i come of a sailor family--this will account to landsmen for my seeming acquaintance with nautical matters; i have never been to sea--this will explain to sailors the ignorance on such matters that they will not have much difficulty in detecting. "god help the poor fellows at sea!"--"god protect and bless the life-boat men!" (humble, honest, hardworking and most generous and brave-hearted men as i well know full many of them to be); "and god prosper the good life-boat institution, and advance its noble object!" that many a brave fellow may be spared to his family and home; many a good man be plucked from death to be yet the joy and support of loved ones; and many a man, unfitted to meet death, be snatched from its jaws to live to repent and to seek that peace which he had formerly disregarded. with such prayers i launch my book. and may god further it to his glory, by making it instrumental in gaining yet increased sympathy with the already much-loved life-boat cause; thus blessing it to be one of the humble instruments, among many, in helping to work out the results for which, in our sailor-loving land, so many are ever ready to hope, to work, to pray. one last word. the narratives related are, i firmly believe, as far as possible, strictly and literally true; i am positive the boatmen would not knowingly exaggerate in the least; and i have sought to tell the tales, incident by incident, what the men did, and what the men suffered, and what the men said--simply as they related each circumstance to me. contents. page chapter i. how the shipwrecked fared in days of old, and the growth of sympathy on their behalf 1 chapter ii. wreckers 13 chapter iii. the inventor of the life-boat 19 chapter iv. the growth of the life-boat movement 23 chapter v. the invention and launching of the prize life-boat 32 chapter vi. the ramsgate life-boat at work--storm warriors to the rescue 48 chapter vii. the rescue of the crew of the "samaritano," and the return 66 chapter viii. a night on the goodwin sands 82 chapter ix. the wreck abandoned, and the life-boat despaired of 94 chapter x. signals of distress--out in the storm 116 chapter xi. the emigrant ship 134 chapter xii. the rescue of the crew of the "demerara," and the emigrants' welcome at ramsgate 149 chapter xiii. the wreck of the "mary"--gales abroad 161 chapter xiv. the wreck of the "mary"--a struggle for dear life 171 chapter xv. deal beach 192 chapter xvi. the loss of the "linda," and the race to the rescue 203 chapter xvii. the rescue of the crew of the "amoor" 214 chapter xviii. the rescue of the crew of the "effort"--the dangers of hovelling 224 chapter xix. the hovellers, or salvors saved. the "princess alice" hovelling lugger 234 chapter xx. the saving of "la marguerite"--(a hovel) 254 chapter xxi. the wreck brought in 265 chapter xxii. the wreck of the "providentia" 275 chapter xxiii. hardly saved 287 chapter xxiv. saved at last--the fatal goodwin sands 298 chapter xxv. saved at last--we will not go home without them 310 chapter xxvi. saved at last--"victory or death" 320 chapter xxvii. of some of the life-boat men 333 chapter xxviii. conclusion--the life-boat institution 344 storm warriors. chapter i. how the shipwrecked fared in days of old, and the growth of sympathy on their behalf. a worthy quaker thus wrote:--"i expect to pass through this world but once; if, therefore, there can be any kindness i can show, or any good thing i can do to any fellow human being, let me do it now. let me not defer or neglect it, for i shall not pass this way again." before in fancy we man the life-boat, and rush out into the storm, and have the salt spray dashing over us, and the wind singing like suppressed thunder in our ears--before we watch the gallant storm warriors of the present day, in their life-and-death struggle, charging in through the raging seas to the rescue of the shipwrecked, let us look back and see how the unfortunate by shipwreck fared in the old time, and then take a hasty glance or two, watching the gradual growth, from age to age, of sympathy for the distressed; humanity becoming more pronounced, and more practical; the progressive adaptation of maritime law to the advancing tone of feeling; the gradual organization and development of that most noble society, "the national life-boat institution," which has for its sole object the lessening of the dangers of the sea, and the saving of the shipwrecked; and, lastly, the progress and final triumph of the labours of science, in the invention of a life-boat which is able successfully to defy the efforts of the most raging storms. the "good old days!" those who sing too emphatically the glories of the "good old days" must either be influenced by the enchantment distance lends to the view, or guided by the wholesome proverb, "let nothing, except that which is good, be spoken of the dead." human nature seems an inheritance unchanging in its properties, and it was in the old time much as it is now, capable of bringing forth fruit good or bad, in accordance with the training it received, or the associations by which it was surrounded. the old days were very far from being either very golden or very good, the strong arm was too often the strong law, and selfishness was far more likely to make the weak ones a prey for plunder, than was compassion to make them objects for assistance. there was a good deal of the ishmael curse about the old feudal days; the baron's hand was too ready to be against every man's, and every man's against his; to plunder and to pillage at all convenient opportunities, as well by sea as by land, seemed very much a leading institution. in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries piracy was almost openly recognized; a foreign ship with a rich cargo was too great a temptation for the free sailors of those rough-and-ready days, and there was in reality as much of the spirit of piracy in the rugged justice by which it was endeavoured to suppress the crimes, as in the crimes themselves. supposing an act of piracy to have been committed, restitution was first demanded from the nation, or maritime town, to which the pirate belonged; and if satisfaction was not obtained, then the aggrieved party was allowed to take out "letters of marque," and might sally forth to all intents a pirate, to plunder any ship sailing from the place to which the vessel which had first robbed him belonged. this system was acknowledged under the name of the "right of private reprisal;" and so, what with pirates licensed and unlicensed, ships seeking plunder without any discrimination, and ships seeking revenge without much, hallam might well write: "in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries, a rich vessel was never secure from attack, and neither restitution nor punishment of the criminals was to be obtained from governments, who sometimes feared the plunderer, and sometimes connived at the offence." to piracy was added the constant petty warfare and feuds that were carried on between maritime nations, and even between towns of the same nation. hallam quotes, "the cinque ports, and other trading towns of england, were in a constant state of hostility with their opposite neighbours during the reigns of edward i. and ii.; half the instruments of rymer might be quoted in proof of these conflicts, and of those with the mariners of norway and denmark." sometimes mutual envy produced frays between different english towns; thus in the year 1254 the winchilsea mariners attacked a yarmouth galley, and killed some of her men. the evil effects of this confusion of might with right, the anxiety occasioned by this constant warfare, and by these petty feuds, lingered longer on sea than on land; and kept the morals of the seafaring population of the coasts at the lowest ebb; and as one consequence, the plundering of vessels wrecked on the shores was in all parts of europe carried on with as ruthless a hand, as was piracy and privateering afloat. it may be somewhat interesting to consider the gradual progress of legislation with reference to this very terrible system and crime of wrecking; and while doing so, we shall receive further proof of how the rough mastery of the strong over the weak crept into the laws, and how full a development it had in such laws, as especially related to wrecks and wreckage. it is hard in the present day to conceive how, in the name of any government making claim to the administration of justice, such a law could have been passed as that which existed prior to henry i., which gave the king complete possession of all wrecked property: ownership on the part of the original possessor was supposed to have been lost by the action of the sea. whether the law originated in that strong instinct for the appropriation of unconsidered trifles, which is rather a snare to all governments, or whether it was found necessary to make the king the owner of wreckage, in order to lessen the temptation to cause vessels to be wrecked, and their crews murdered for the sake of pillage, no unfrequent occurrence in those days, however it was, the law existed, and the shipwrecked merchant might come struggling ashore upon a broken spar, and find the coast strewn with scattered but still valuable goods, so lately his, but now by law his no longer, any more than they belonged to the half dozen rude fishermen who stood watching the torn wreck, and dispersed cargo being wave-lifted high upon the beach. henry i., whose declining years were years of tender and deep sadness, on account of his own losses at sea, was somewhat more compassionate in his dealings with the unfortunate by shipwreck. he decreed that a wreck or wrecked goods should not be considered lost to the owner, or become the property of the crown, if any man escaped from the wreck with life to the shore. henry ii. made a feeble enlargement of this scant degree of mercy--he expanded this saving clause, so that if either man or beast came ashore alive, the wreck and goods should still be considered as belonging to the original possessors; but failing this, although the owner should be known beyond all possibility of doubt, all the saved property should belong to the king; so that in those old days, if a cat was supposed to have nine lives, it was quite sufficient to account for its being for so long a popular institution on board ship; for even a cat washing ashore, would become the owner's title-deeds to all of his property that the sea had spared. richard i. could be generous in things small as well as great; he could act nobly upon principle as well as upon impulse; it must have been, indeed, only natural to his open unselfish nature and high courage, to spurn the idea of robbing the robbed, of making the victim of the sea's destructive power the further victim of a king's greed; he was prepared to give his laws of chivalry a wide interpretation, and let them ordain succour for the distressed by the rage of waters, as well as for the distressed by the rage of men. and so when about to take part in the third crusade, king richard decreed, "for the love of god, and the health of his own soul, and the souls of his ancestors and successors, kings of england. "that all persons escaping alive from a wreck should retain their goods; that wreck or wreckage should only be considered the property of the king when neither an owner, nor the heirs of a late owner, could be found for it." for several centuries all european nations had for the foundation of their maritime laws, a certain code, called the code of oleron. there is the usual veil of historical uncertainty clouding the origin of these laws, for while some authorities declare that richard i. had nothing to do with them, others declare that they were completed and promulgated by richard, at the isle of oleron, as he was returning from one of his crusades, and that they had first and especial reference to the customs on the coasts of some of his continental domains. the laws of oleron contain thirty-seven articles, and make very terrible statements as to the system of wrecking, which in those days disgraced the then civilized nations of the earth, while they show also, that if sinners were then prepared to sin with a high hand, that the authorities were prepared with no less energy to inflict punishment for crime. some of the extracts from these laws are as utter darkness compared with light, when you read them beside extracts from the life-boat journals of the present day, suggesting as they do the customs of the people as regards wrecking, and the scant mercy that was shown to the shipwrecked. consider, for instance, the picture as given in the following extracts from the old laws of oleron:-"an accursed custom prevailing in some parts, inasmuch as a third or fourth part of the wrecks that come ashore belong to the lord of the manor, where the wrecks take place, and that pilots for profit from these lords, and from the wrecks, like faithless and treacherous villains, do purposely run the ships under their care upon the rocks." the code declares, that the lords, and all who assist in plundering the wreck shall be accursed, excommunicated, and punished as robbers. "that all false pilots shall suffer a most rigorous and merciless death, and be hung on high gibbets." "the wicked lords are to be tied to a post in the middle of their own houses, which shall be set on fire at all four corners, and burnt with all that shall be therein; the goods being first confiscated for the benefit of the persons injured; and the site of the houses shall be converted into places for the sale of hogs and swine." but if this threat of burning the said wicked lords, and the wholesale confiscation and destruction of their houses and properties, had not sufficient terrors to control such hardened sinners, and if they, or others, were prepared to add murder to robbery, then the laws enacted-"if people, more barbarous, cruel, and inhuman than mad dogs, murdered shipwrecked folk, they were to be plunged into the sea until half dead, and then drawn out and stoned to death." railway directors and others would scarcely like the enforcement of laws parallel to those which dealt with the carelessness of pilots; which provided, "that if negligence on the part of the pilot caused shipwreck, he was to make good out of his own means the losses sustained, and if his means were not sufficient, then he should lose his head;" it was meekly suggested; "that some care should be taken by the master and mariners," possibly as much for their own sakes as for the sake of the unfortunate pilot. "that they should be persuaded that the man had not the means to make good the loss, before they cut off his head." the preamble of an act of parliament is generally the summary of the arguments for the necessity of the bill. the preamble of a bill for the repression of crime, may be therefore taken as the expression of the national conviction, that such crimes exist at the time. if so, during the reign of george ii. human nature did not show itself to be one whit better than in earlier days, still were men equally capable of cruel selfishness and wrong, although civilization had done much to curb the outward expression of many of the former evils, and to control, to some extent, the open and virulent barbarities of still darker days. for we find that the old laws, and barbarous modes of punishment, were not sufficient to cope with the strongly developed tendencies for wrecking, which showed themselves, in various ways, to be existent, and in full activity. and therefore a new act was passed, which recited-"that notwithstanding the good and salutary laws now in being against plundering and destroying vessels in distress, and against taking away shipwrecked, lost, and stranded goods, that still many wicked enormities had been committed to the disgrace of the nation." therefore certain provisions were enacted, the bearing of which was as follows:-death was to be the punishment for the chief of these enormities, such as hanging out false lights for the purpose of bringing vessels into distress. death for those who killed, or prevented the escape of shipwrecked persons. death for stealing goods from a wreck, whether there be any living creature on board or not. acts of parliament in following years felt the impress of the more merciful spirit of legislation which began to prevail. the punishment of death for theft from a wreck was reduced to imprisonment; while penal servitude for life was made the penalty for a new development of crime, namely, that of wilfully scuttling, or setting on fire, or wrecking a ship for the purpose of defrauding or damaging insurance offices or owners. the existing merchant shipping act of 1854, and the amendments and additions to it, now form the code by which all maritime questions are arranged; and most of the barbarities, cruelties, and wrongs which, for so many ages, added to the perils of the sea, both as to life and property, are now sufficiently guarded against. but still a most subtle cruelty and fatal wrong is left almost altogether untouched, that of sending vessels to sea in an unseaworthy condition, as to hull, or spars, or sails, or rigging, or perhaps dangerously overladen; many a vessel only worthy of being utterly condemned, which no office would think for one moment of insuring, and that would scarcely pay for breaking up, is bought cheap, patched up, and sent, perhaps, to float up and down our coasts as a collier, a sort of dingy coffin, only waiting to be entombed by the first heavy gale and raging sea in which she is caught, and then to go quickly down to her grave, carrying with her her crew, unless they have taken warning in time, and found some chance of escaping, which they are not slow to take advantage of, knowing the nature of the craft they are in; but many a brave sailor finds no escape, and feels no hope, when once the heavy gale breaks on the crazy craft, and thus dies a victim to one of the treacherous, and permitted, and most fatal cruelties of our most christian and most enlightened age; but this state of things, we may well believe, will not be permitted to last much longer; the attention of the public has been thoroughly aroused to the subject, more especially by the zealous, energetic, and unselfish action of samuel plimsol, esq., m.p., who having the welfare of the poor sailor most thoroughly at heart, has attacked with every courage the still existing abuses, arising chiefly from the deficiencies in our maritime code, and all who have sympathy with the sailor must wish him success, and who has not? but it is hard work to develop legislative action, even from wide-spread national sympathy; but the work is commenced; and as one result of his action, a royal commission has been issued by her majesty. the following is a synopsis of the opening instructions of the commission:- victoria r. whereas--we have deemed it expedient for divers good causes and considerations that a commission should forthwith issue to make inquiry with regard to the alleged unseaworthiness of british registered ships; whether arising from overloading, deck-loading, defective construction, form, equipment, machinery, age or improper stowage; and also to inquire into the present system of marine insurance; of the alleged practice of undermanning ships; and also to suggest any amendments in the law which might remedy or lessen such evils as may be found to have arisen from the matters aforesaid, &c., &c. given at our court at st. james's the 29th day of march, 1873, in the thirty-sixth year of our reign. by our command, (signed) h. a. bruce. we may now therefore have great hopes, that there will be speedily some good result, from the spirited manner in which this question of sending unseaworthy vessels to sea has been brought before the public. note.--i have to thank a friend for notes, which he kindly gave me, of extracts which he made from books to which he had access in the british museum, referring to the ancient maritime laws upon wrecking. my friend has, since this chapter was first written, developed his notes into an article, which he published in a periodical; i have, nevertheless, not refrained from giving the account, which i think my readers may find interesting. j. g. chapter ii. wreckers. "o father! i see a gleaming light; o say what may it be?" but the father answered never a word- a frozen corpse was he. and ever the fitful gusts between a sound came from the land; it was the sound of the trampling surf on the rocks and the hard sea-sand. the breakers were right beneath her bows she drifted a dreary wreck, and a whooping billow swept the crew like icicles from her deck." _longfellow._ "perhaps some human kindness still may make amends for human ill." _barry cornwall._ as we have considered the growth of legislation upon the question of wrecking and wreckage, and contrasted the more civilized, but not perfect code, now existing, with the barbarous laws of days gone by, we may also, perhaps, well put in contrast the present character and action of our coast population, as a rule, with what they were in days more remote. imagine a homeward-bound vessel some two hundred and fifty years ago, clumsy in build, awkward in rig, little fitted for battling with the gales of our stormy coast, but yet manned with strong stouthearted men, who made their sturdy courage compensate for deficiency of other means; think of many perils overcome, a long weary voyage nearly ended, the crew rejoicing in thoughts of home, of home-love and home-rest, the headlands of dear old england, loved by her sons no less then, than now, lying a dark line upon the horizon, the night growing apace, the breeze freshening, ever freshening, adding each moment a hoarser swell to the deep murmurs of its swift-following blasts; the ship scudding on, breasting the seas with her bluff bows, rising and pitching with the running waves which cover her with foam! look on land! keen eyes have watched the signs of the coming storm, men more greedy than the foulest vulture, "more inhuman than mad dogs," have cast most cruel and wistful glances seaward! yes, their eyes light up with the very light of hell, as they see in the dim distance the white sail of a struggling ship making towards the land! and now try to imagine the scene, as the night falls, and the storm gathers, two or three ill-looking fellows drop in, say, to a low tavern standing in a by-lane that leads from the cliff to the beach, in some village on our south-western coast--soon muttered hints take form, and in low whispers the men talk over the chances of a wreck this wild night; they remember former gains, they talk over disappointments, when on similar nights of darkness, wildness, and storm, vessels discovered their danger too soon for them, and managed to weather the headlands of the bay. the plot takes form; with many a deep and muttered curse, the murderous decision is taken, that if a vessel can be trapped to destruction, it shall be. there is an old man of the party whose brow is furrowed with dread lines; he does not say much, but every now and then his eyes glare, and his features work as if convulsed; his comrades look at him, twice, and as a terrific squall shakes the house, a third time: silently he rises and leaves the inn; his mates now look away from him, as if quite unconscious as to what he is about; their stifled consciences cannot do much for them, but can give to each, just one faint half-realized sensation of shame. now in the pitch darkness of the night, with bowed head, and faltering steps, battling against the storm, the old man leads a white horse along the edge of the cliff, to the top of the horse's tail a lantern is tied, and the light sways with the movement of the horse, and in its movements seems not unlike the mast-head light of a vessel rocked by the motion of the sea. a whisper has gone through the village, of a chance of something happening during the night, and most of the men and many of the women are on the alert, lurking in the caves beneath the cliff, or sheltered behind jutting pieces of rock. the vessel makes in steadily for the land; the captain grows uneasy, and fears running into danger; he will put the vessel round, and try and battle his way out to sea. the look-out man reports a dim light ahead; what kind? and whither away? he can make out that it is a ship's light, for it is in motion. yes, she must be a vessel standing on in the same course as that which they are on. it is all safe then, the captain will stand in a little longer; when suddenly in the lull of the storm a hoarse murmur is heard, surely the sound of the sea beating upon rocks? yes! look, a white gleam upon the water! breakers ahead! breakers ahead! oh! a very knell of doom; the cry rings through the ship, down, down with helm, round her to; too late, too late! a crash, a shudder from stem to stern of the stout ship; the shriek of many voices in their agony, green seas sweeping over the vessel, and soon, broken timbers, bales of cargo, and lifeless bodies scattered along the beach, while the shattered remnant of the hull is torn still further to pieces with each insweep of the mighty seas, as they roll it to, and fro, among the rocks. fearful and crafty the smile that darkened the dark face of the willing murderer, who was leading the horse with the false light, as he heard the crash of the vessel, and the shrieks of the drowning crew, fearful the smiles that darkened the faces of the men and women waiting on the beach, as they came out from their places, ready to struggle and fight among themselves for any spoil that might come ashore; a homeward-bound ship from the indies--great good fortune, rich spoil--bale after bale is seized upon by the wreckers, and dragged high upon the beach out of the way of the surf--but see, a sailor clinging to a bit of broken mast, with his last conscious effort he gains a footing on the shore, staggers forward and falls. is he alive? not now! why did that fearful old woman kneel upon his chest, and cover his mouth with her cloak? dead men tell no tales! claim no property! have such things been possible? they have, and have been done; traditions of such dread tragedies still linger on the cornish coast, and it is a matter of history that all around our shores miscreants were to be found, who were ready to sacrifice to their blood-thirsty avarice those whom the rage of water had spared. yes, and still many sailors find their worst enemies ashore, and know no danger so great as that of falling into the hands of their fellow-men; but not now in the small harbours or fishing-villages of the coast--not now among the seafaring population of our shores, must wretches capable of such deeds be looked for, but among the degraded quarters of our large maritime towns--among the land-sharks, who haunt the docks, the crimp-houses, the dens of infamy, the low taverns--there jack may still be wrecked, and drugged, and robbed, and perhaps murdered. but even there darkness has not got it all its own way; for if there are many who are ready to ruin the reckless sailor, there are many others, thank god, who are ready to warn and aid him. seamen's churches, bethels, sailors' homes, sailors' missionaries, and all sorts of benevolent institutions, seek to struggle with, and overcome, the bad effect of the many evils to which the sailor on shore is exposed. and the sea-coasts where the storm warriors now gather tell a tale of hardihood, of courage, of endurance, and of skill, no less than the olden days could boast of. but now courage is glorified by mercy, and hardihood by sympathy, and endurance is sustained, and skill and enterprise are quickened into action by the noblest feelings, and readiness for self-sacrifice, which can move the heart of man. if our last pages have been gloomy in the picture they have given of what was frequently done not many generations ago, let us seek a contrast, which shall be as light to darkness, and compare with those scenes of old, a picture of that which happens month after month, and in the winter season week after week, and sometimes, almost day after day, on our own coasts in the present time. a homeward-bound ship is rushing along, skimming the green seas, seeming to rejoice in the pride of her beauty, strength, and speed; there is some fatal error or accident, and she comes suddenly to destruction. many men are anxiously on the look-out; they have been watching her closely from the shore, and eagerly preparing for action at the moment of the shipwreck, which for some time they have feared must happen. and now guns fire, and rockets flash, and the signals quickly given are quickly answered, and the storm warriors rush into action; they are not now the storm pirates as was the case too often of old, they are the storm warriors; their flashing lights tell of coming rescue, and do not lure to destruction; for as the gallant life-boat men rush into all danger, make every effort, battling with mad waves and boiling surf, they fight under the noble banner of mercy--their mission is to save. chapter iii. the inventor of the life-boat. "the most eloquent speaker, the most ingenious writer, and the most accomplished statesman cannot effect so much as the mere presence of the man who tempers his wisdom and his vigour with humanity." _lavater._ what dreams had lionel luken, coach-builder of london, in the year 1780, or thereabouts? the perils to machines, or coaches, in those days were many and varied; the roads were often rough, and dangerous enough to equal the pleasing variety and exciting accompaniments of a cross-country gallop; the bridges were very few, and the fords very many. did lionel luken lose coach, or customer, or both, in a rushing flood which overwhelmed some burdensome coach and unhappy travellers at one of these fords? and, thinking over the disaster sorrowfully, patiently, and profitably, as great minds and great hearts will think, did he conceive the idea of a coach warranted against sinking, with air-tight compartments? and then, expanding the idea, did the noble thought occur to him of building a boat that would not merely float in the rush of a flood, but that would defy the troubled waters of a raging sea? and was it thus, that lionel luken gained unto himself the immortal honour of being the first inventor of the life-boat? in whatever manner the idea presented itself to him, and however it was developed in the mind of the skilful and humane coach-builder, certain it is that it seized him very thoroughly, and that he, being one of the race of god's heroes, alike humane, brave, and earnest, was not content to let his happy, his blessed thought die barren of result, but made noble and persevering efforts to bring his invention to a successful issue. he had high courage, for his courage was inspired by the great hope that his boat might be the instrument of plucking many poor sailors from dread peril, carrying them through threatening seas, snatching them from the very jaws of death, and of restoring them to their loving ones in their loved homes. with this holy ambition, lionel luken laboured nobly, as, urged by a like ambition, many now labour nobly for the good life-boat cause. but the old days were not days of quick sympathy, or of ready enterprise, and luken, although supported, to a certain extent, by royalty, uselessly clamoured at official doors, and sought public patronage in vain. people seemed then to have no strong objection to other people being drowned, just as they had no strong prejudice against others suffering the tortures of miserable prisons, the worst asylums, or any of the many horrors which a more enlightened age has sought with some degree of success to lessen or remove. in the year 1785 luken took out a patent for a boat which, to a great extent, embodied almost all the more needful properties possessed by the present model life-boat; he at the same time published a pamphlet; "upon the invention, principle, and construction of insubmergible boats." he suggested that such boats should be protected by bands of cork round their gunwales, that they should be rendered buoyant by the use of air-cases, especially at the bow and stern, and that they should be ballasted by an iron keel. but even when the good man passed from theory to practice, and succeeded at bamborough in getting a boat converted into a life-boat on the above principles, and when this boat proved a success, and saved many lives, even then he could obtain no support from the authorities in carrying out his grand object. the story is told of a general who blamed a soldier for ducking at the sound of a cannon ball, saying that he had no business to be a soldier if he had the faintest objection to being shot. on the same principle, the first lord of the admiralty, in his stern rejections of luken's many efforts, may have considered that life-boats would interfere with a sailor's prerogative for being drowned; and drowned indeed many of the poor fellows were--swept to destruction in sight of land, for winds were cruel, and rocks were hard, and seas wild, and ships frail, while benevolence slept, and the cries of the drowning did not reach official ears, and luken's loud appeals on behalf of humanity were disregarded, and he, brave man, who had so long struggled, hoping against hope, became utterly disappointed that the movement, the importance of which he so realized, and for which he had so long laboured, did not become general. still he had the satisfaction of seeing his plan adopted in one or two places, in shields especially, as we shall show; and he had the great happiness of knowing that, time after time, lives were saved by the boats which were built after his model. he had done all that he could, and went on building coaches, not, we may presume, on life-boat principles; and he tried somewhat to content himself, as he looked forward with hope for a time of greater enlightenment and sympathy, when he trusted that the seed he sowed, almost with tears, would bring its harvest of sheaves, and full of this faith, the good man devised an inscription for the stone which should mark his resting-place in a quiet country churchyard, simply stating, "that he was the inventor of the first life-boat." honoured be the memory of lionel luken! chapter iv. the growth of the life-boat movement. "what is noble? 'tis the finer portion of our mind and heart, linked to something still diviner than mere language can impart; ever prompting--ever seeing some improvement yet to plan; to uplift our fellow-being, and, like man, to feel for man." _c. swain._ if the ear were only as powerful to enable the mind to realize things heard, as the eye is powerful in enabling the mind to realize things seen, many reforms would have been worked out promptly, instead of having to wait year after year, sometimes almost generation after generation, while the mind of the public has had its sympathies but slowly awakened by the constant statement of some evil, and the unceasing demand for its remedy. thus it was, that a terrible scene of disaster and death, of which many were the agonized eye-witnesses, did more to urge forward the life-boat cause than had been effected by the report of many similar tragedies, which but few lookers on had seen occur. it was in the year 1789, a tremendous gale of wind was raging at newcastle; thousands of the inhabitants were watching the wild sea as it foamed up at the entrance of the port, and they trembled as they saw vessel after vessel stagger on through the sweeping waves, running into the harbour for refuge. one ship, the _adventurer_, missed the entrance of the port, and was driven on to the rocks; the seas rushed over her deck, and flew half-way up the masts; the crew took refuge in the rigging, and the wreck was so near to the pier, that the horrified and terror-stricken people thronging there, could hear the cries for help, and even see the growing shade of the death agony upon the faces of the men, as they became more and more exhausted and faint from exposure to the heavy seas; and then they saw one after another of the seamen torn from his hold and perish miserably; and this within call of these thousands of spectators, who were full of grief and sympathy, but were unable even to attempt a rescue. brave men stood powerless, and as they were frantically appealed to, to try and save the drowning men, could only groan over the utter impossibility of rendering them any assistance! yes! the daring, hardy, skilful sailors, wept with the weeping women, as they stood overwhelmed with helpless horror watching the most heart-rending scene. strong boats were there, ready to be manned, boats that had successfully battled with many a rough sea, but they were _not life-boats_, and to go out into such a mad boil of raging waves in any other kind of boat than a life-boat, would have been certain death to all the crew, without affording the faintest possibility of help to the shipwrecked; and thus, without help, without hope, one after the other of the poor shipwrecked sailors, exhausted and faint, fell back into the wild waves and perished: the vessel was speedily torn to pieces, the crowd slowly and sorrowfully went home; soon the darkness of night shadowed the wild sea and the saddened town, but the day's work was not done--the tragedy was not without fruit, in more senses than one, "the blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church;" the sympathies of the people were now fully aroused; meetings were at once held at south shields--a committee was formed--and premiums were offered for the best life-boat. william wouldham, a painter, was one of the successful competitors; he presented a model embracing many excellent qualities; henry greathead, a boat-builder of south shields, stood next on the list. the various models presented were discussed--their more excellent qualities selected--and from the suggestions thus obtained, a model life-boat was planned, from which, as a type, greathead built a boat, which, either from the fact that he improved upon the model given to him, or because his name, as its builder, was chiefly associated with it, became known as greathead's life-boat, and he gained the honour of being its inventor--not but what the claims of wouldham were stoutly asserted; and we may believe by many accepted, for in the parish church of st. hilda, south shields, a tombstone erected to the memory of wouldham bears at its head a model of his life-boat, with the following inscription:- "heaven genius scientific gave, surpassing vulgar boast, yet he from soil so rich, no golden harvest reap'd, no wreath of laurel gleaned. none but the sailor's heart, nor that ingrate, of palm unfading this, till shipwrecks cease, or life-boats cease to save." within the next fifteen years, or so, greathead built about thirty life-boats, eight of which were sent to foreign countries. at last the life-boat cause was wakened into life, but into no vigorous existence; it did not actually die, but lingered on with here and there a spasm of vitality, as some local cause or stirring advocate excited a momentary interest in the question. life-boat stations were scattered at long intervals round the coast, and boats of various designs, some very good, were placed at a few of the more dangerous positions on our shores. the public was not altogether unprepared to move, but was waiting for the needed impulse. the whole cause, in spite of all its intrinsic merits and great claims upon humanity, waited for the _coming man_, and he was found in the person of sir william hillary, baronet, one of nature's real noblemen; his heart was great, as his arm was strong; his love for the sea was only equalled by his love for sailors; all that concerned their well-being excited his quick sympathy and active interest, and his feelings were, as a matter of course, very sincere, and very earnest for the life-boat cause. sir w. hillary lived at douglas, in the isle of man. his sympathy for the sailor proved its vitality by being active and practical: he established sailors' homes, and in many ways sought their improvement and benefit; and when the hour of danger came, when the storms raged and lives were in peril, sir william was the first, not only to encourage, but also to lead the boatmen to the rescue of the shipwrecked; he shrank from no danger, he shared all labour, and endured all hardship, and this to such an extent, that he was personally engaged in efforts by which more than three hundred lives were saved. the following are some of the occasions in which sir william's heroic efforts were blessed in their results to the saving of life:-in the year 1825 sir william, and the crews under him, rescued eighty-seven persons, sixty-two of these from the steamer _city of glasgow_; eleven from the _leopard_ brig; and nine from the _fancy_ sloop. in the year 1827 they saved seventeen lives. in 1830, four different crews were rescued, forty-three lives being saved; and in 1832 no fewer than fifty lives were saved from a passenger-ship. the nature of the perils sir william hillary so nobly encountered, and the toils he shared, may be well illustrated by an account of the rescue of the crew of the _st. george_. on the 29th of november, 1830, the mail steamer _st. george_ struck on st. mary's rock, not far from douglas. the captain had no boats to which he could trust in so violent a sea; he therefore cut away the mainmast, and endeavoured to construct a raft from its wreck, together with the spars which they had on board; but the seas proved too heavy for him to be able to do so, and he signalled his distress to the shore. sir william hillary and a crew of twelve men at once manned the life-boat, and proceeded in the direction of the wreck; they found the steamer hard upon the rock, and surrounded by such a raging boil of surf that any attempt to rescue the unfortunate passengers and crew seemed almost impossible; nevertheless they were not the men to leave their fellow-creatures to perish without making an effort for their safety, at whatever risk that effort must be made; they therefore let the boat rush before the gale into the heart of the surf; here she was completely at the mercy of the wild and broken waves--her rudder was torn off, oar after oar was broken, until scarcely half the number were left--some of the air-tight compartments were strained and filled with water, and rendered useless, and to add to the dismay of the crew, one of the tremendous seas which rushed over the boat washed sir william and three men overboard; it was only after the greatest difficulty that they were recovered, and, happily, without being much hurt; the life-boat was then hurled by the waves between the steamer and the rock, here the broken mainmast and other wreckage were being driven violently by the surf in all directions, so that the life-boat was in a very whirlpool of danger. the crew and passengers of the steamer thought, however, that they would be safer in the boat, in spite of the dread peril she was in, than on board the steamer, which was being torn and beaten to pieces, and they left the steamer for the boat; the boat had then more than sixty persons on board; and hour after hour her crew struggled in vain to get her out of the position of extreme danger, in which the force of the gale and the rush of the waves held them as in a vice; every moment was one of very great hardship to all on board the boat, as the surf continually flew over them in volumes, and the danger of being crushed by the wreckage, that was tossing and leaping in the contest of the mad sea that raged around them, was incessant. after nearly three hours of the hardest struggle, they managed to get the almost disabled boat a little clear from the rock and the wreck, but still they were unable to make any headway against the seas, or get beyond the circle of surf, when at length the sea, as if tired of sporting with its shattered prey, drove the boat so far beyond the range of the surf, that other boats were able to come to her assistance and all lives were saved. such was the nature of the perils and hardships that sir william hillary often readily and nobly encountered in his efforts to save life. when, therefore, urged by the cruel necessities of the case, he pleaded for the life-boat cause, and illustrated his pleading by his own personal experience, men began at last to listen to what he urged. he described not only that the dangers of the shipwrecked were fearfully increased from want of due means for their rescue, in the absence of boats properly constructed to contend against the peculiar danger arising from the raging seas and broken water which generally surrounded a wreck, but he showed also how, from the same cause, brave men too often rushed to their death. that in answer to the cry for rescue, men put to sea, urged by the generous impulses of sympathy and courage, went forth possessed of all the needed bravery, the strength, the skill, the determination to perish or to save: they did often perish, and did not save, because they needed the boats which could alone safely contend with the dangers that they had to encounter. two members of parliament, mr. thomas wilson and mr. george hibbert, were especially moved by such a tale, told by such a man, out of a brave, loving, full heart, and illustrated by such terrible experience, and they gave sir william their very hearty co-operation; and these three men became, in the year 1825, the founders of the "royal national institution for the preservation of life from shipwreck." sir w. hillary undertook the formation of a branch committee of the society for the isle of man, and so fully succeeded that, by the year 1829, each of the four harbours of the station possessed a life-boat. under the organization of this society, and with the aid of some fourteen smaller, and local associations, and notably with the assistance of "the shipwrecked fishermen and mariners' royal benevolent society," which was instituted in the year 1839, and provided seven life-boats on different parts of the coast, the life-boat cause went on, doing much noble work, but leaving very much more undone; and very much that was effected was not done in really the best way. thus the life-boat cause had prospered, the work was becoming organised; but still much was wanting; it needed some new and great stimulus--and in a few years the stimulus came. chapter v. the invention and launching of the prize life-boat. "in spite of rock and tempest's roar, in spite of false lights on the shore, sail on, nor fear to breast the sea, our hearts, our hopes are all with thee; our hearts, our hopes, our prayers, our tears, our faith triumphant o'er our fears, are all with thee--are all with thee!" _"the ship of state."--longfellow._ in the year 1848, the admiralty called for returns from the various coastguard stations which gird the coast, as to the condition of the life-boat service in their respective neighbourhoods; the results showed a state of things very far from satisfactory. it appeared that the number of life-boats was about one hundred, but out of these, only fifty-five were reported as being in good repair, and a great many of this number were declared to be of such heavy construction, that very much of their usefulness was sacrificed. twenty boats were reported as being only in fair repair, and twenty-one boats were declared to be bad and unserviceable. from many stations came the reports of great loss of life from want of a boat. from ballycotton, for instance, where a life-boat could be easily manned, and yet, sad to state, that within fifteen years no fewer than sixty-seven lives had been lost, no life-boat being there to effect a rescue. the evidence for the necessity for further effort was also afforded, by the long distances which existed between many of the life-boat stations. twenty-seven miles, thirty-three, forty-five, ninety-four, one hundred and forty-one, and one hundred and fifty-one miles being among such distances; thus in various places the coast was left absolutely unprotected for many miles together. equally sad, and similar to that given by sir w. hillary, was the evidence as to the faulty construction of many of the boats, inasmuch as although they were a decided improvement upon the ordinary boat, yet they too often proved incompetent to contend against the rush of seas and broken water to which they were exposed; from this cause the most painful tragedies frequently occurred, the loss of brave fellows who went out to save others from a dreadful death, and who through no lack of courage, of strength, or of skill, on their part, but from the faulty construction of the boat they were in, found one common grave with those whom they sought to rescue from the raging seas. thus one life-boat gained a most sad notoriety: on one occasion she drowned four of her crew; on another occasion twelve; and on a third, twenty men were drowned out of her. a second, so called, life-boat lost on one occasion two men, on a second three men, and on a third all her crew; when she was most properly condemned as too dangerous to be of use. a scarborough life-boat lost sixteen men. at dunbar, on the occasion of a man-of-war being wrecked, the life-boat in two trips saved forty-five men; on her third trip she upset, and nearly all who were in her were drowned; she was condemned, and for many years no life-boat at all was stationed there, although from time to time many lives were lost. thus we find that in the year 1850 life-boat work was no unknown work. life-boat societies had done much, and were doing much. life-boats had been stationed in various localities during the preceding half century, and there were at the date mentioned seventy-five life-boats in england, eight in scotland, and eight in ireland; but nearly one-half of these were, from one cause or another, more or less unserviceable; and many of the most exposed parts of the coast were still unprovided with life-boats. in that year, 1850, there were six hundred and eighty-one wrecks: the loss of life was about seven hundred and eighty-four, including a crew of eleven men, whose boat upset one stormy november night, they having put off to the assistance of a vessel in distress. it was evident that the life-boat system was not sufficiently developed or general, and there was, moreover, no universally approved model of a boat in which all boatmen might have confidence; this latter consideration was especially brought before the notice of the public by an accident which occurred to the newcastle life-boat, the sad particulars of which are given in the following extracts from a letter written december 14th, 1849, by the then treasurer of the life-boat "friend of the ports of newcastle-upon-tyne and south shields," mr. r. anderson. "the life-boats of the port of newcastle, stationed at the entrance of the tyne in north and south shields, have been for about sixty years instrumental in saving the crews of those vessels which have been unfortunately stranded at the entrance of the port. no correct account was kept of the exact number so rescued from danger previous to the year 1841, but since then four hundred and sixty-six persons have been brought ashore from sixty-two vessels. "on the morning of the fatal accident, the _betsy_, of littlehampton, laden with salt, was stranded on the hard sand; and the receding tide left her among heavy breakers, with a heavy ebb-tide running past her. "the life-boat was launched about 9 a.m., and being manned by twenty-four pilots, immediately proceeded to the vessel; and, having hailed her, and given instructions to the people on board to prepare two ropes ready to throw to them, they waited for a little time between the ship and the shore for the ropes to be got ready, then they again proceeded to the vessel, and succeeded in getting alongside; the rope from the after end of the vessel was received into the boat; the rope from the fore end had just been received and reeved in the ring at the stern, and a few fathoms hauled into the boat; and the shipwrecked men were preparing to descend, when a terrific knot of sea recoiling from the resistance it met at the vessel's bow, threw the bow of the boat up over end, and the bow-rope not holding, the boat was driven in that position, with all her crew thrown into the stern, astern of the vessel, into the rapid ebb-tide, which running into her, caused the boat to capsize, and all the men were washed into the sea; they were carried away by the tide. "the accident was seen from the shore, and immediately the second life-boat was launched from south shields, and, with seventeen pilots on board, proceeded with all possible despatch to the assistance of the crew of the former boat; they found and rescued three, one had succeeded in getting on board the brig, and thus only four out of the twenty-four were saved. "nor were the crew of the stranded vessel forgotten; the third life-boat from north shields was launched; and notwithstanding the appalling accident, a crew of seventeen brave fellows manned her instantly, and proceeded alongside the _betsy_, and brought all her crew, and the one pilot who succeeded in getting on board her, safely ashore. "the first life-boat which had turned end-over-end was washed ashore bottom up; her great want was the self-righting principle." urged by the necessities of the case, which became daily more apparent, the duke of northumberland, president of the national life-boat society, organized a plan by which the intellect and experience of the world at large should be encouraged to invent a life-boat, which should be on all points as perfect as possible. his grace offered a premium of one hundred guineas for the best model of a life-boat. the defects of the existing boats were pointed out as a guide to inventors, they being chiefly: "1. they do not upright themselves in the event of being upset. "2. that they are too heavy to be readily launched or transported along the coast in case of need. "3. that they do not free themselves from water fast enough. "4. that they are very expensive." a committee was formed to examine, and report upon the models. the offer of his grace, and the conditions of the competition, were published in october 1850, and no expense or pains were spared in making them known. the interest and excitement produced by the notice were deeply and widely felt; the challenge was accepted by great numbers of people--amateurs, to whom to invent a life-boat seemed a laudable and holy ambition, vied with the boat-builders who had thoughts of professional reputation to give a spur to their humanity--speedily in all parts of england, and in many other parts of the world, busy minds and skilful hands were at work. in due time models came teeming in upon the committee in almost overwhelming numbers. not content with asking for models of life-boats, the committee also asked for information upon certain defined points, the models sent in numbered no fewer than two hundred and eighty, while the answers to inquiries were sufficient to fill five folio volumes of manuscript. as for the models, every possible form and every possible principle seemed to find its illustration. there were boats designed upon the principle of pontoons, of catamarans, of rafts, steamers, paddle-box boats, north country cobles--every possible modification of the whaleboat, and of the ordinary boat; boats made of wood, of tin, of galvanized corrugated iron, boats with cork linings, with air-boxes, with water-ballast, with no ballast, tubular boats, boats a series of tubs, a series of boxes; to be propelled by oars, by sails, by paddle-wheels, by screws, to be worked by hand power, by steam power, by atmospheric air. the committee might well feel overwhelmed at such a perfect rush of ideas and designs thus suggested for their consideration; and as they began to go into details, they found it almost impossible to decide which model was best, where the elements of excellency were so varied and so numerous, especially as they found that so large a number of the boats presented such excellent combinations of different good qualities. the committee therefore deemed it necessary to organize a regular competitive examination, assigning marks to different necessary qualifications, that they might thus be able to arrange the boats presented in an order of merit, dependent upon their respective combination of good qualities. the following is the list of qualities that were required in the boats, with the number of marks apportioned to each. 1st quality. rowing boat in all weathers 20 2nd " sailing boat in all weathers 18 3rd " sea boat, i.e., stability, safety, buoyancy forward for launching through surf 10 4th " means of freeing boat from water readily 8 5th " extra buoyancy nature, amount, distribution, mode of application 7 6th " power of self-righting 9 7th " suitableness for beaching 4 8th " room for, and power of carrying passengers 6 9th " moderate weight for transport along shore 3 10th " protection from injury to bottom 3 11th " ballast, as iron 1, water 2, cork 3 6 12th " access to stem and stern 3 13th " tumbler heads for securing warps 2 14th " fenders, life-lines, &c. 1 with their mode of examination thus fully organized, the committee patiently and carefully set about their interesting task, and after much labour it was decided that the model presented by mr. james beeching, of great yarmouth, possessed the best combination of necessary qualifications, and to it was awarded eighty-six out of the one hundred marks; and the inventor had the gratification of receiving the following letters from the duke of northumberland, and from the chairman of the life-boat committee:- _alnwick castle,_ _13th august, 1851._ sir, it gives me much pleasure to send you a cheque for â£105, as the prize for the best model of a life-boat. and i must thank you for the assistance you have given me and the society for saving life from shipwreck by that model, which will enable us to establish a better life-boat on the coast than those at present in use. yours, &c., northumberland. _to mr. james beeching._ * * * * * _somerset house, london,_ _14th august, 1851._ sir, i have the gratification to acquaint you that the committee appointed to examine the life-boat models sent to somerset house, to compete for the premium offered by his grace the duke of northumberland for the best model of a life-boat, have awarded the prize to your model. i am therefore directed by his grace to transmit to you the enclosed cheque for â£105, and the report of the committee upon which the award was founded. yours, &c., j. washington, r.n., chairman of the committee. _to mr. james beeching._ a fine boat, called the _northumberland_, was speedily built by mr. beeching, and she immediately commenced a more memorable career than has ever fallen to the lot of any other boat--the stormy petrel of the sea--the pioneer of a work not more glorious than much which had been attempted, but which crowned almost every brave effort with abundant success, where science aided sympathy with all the fruits of her skill, so that the double cry of agony, where on the one hand there was lamentation for the shipwrecked and lost, and on the other a cry, if possible, even more piteous still, for those who perished in their efforts to save the shipwrecked--a cry that had been too often heard, was soon almost to cease from the land. the early passage in the history of the _northumberland_ seemed to suggest that hers was to be a holiday existence, her career commenced with a round of triumphant display and popularity. she visited various parts of the coast, and all her properties were displayed, creating everywhere confidence in her powers, and enthusiasm at the thought of the stimulus to be given to the great work of saving life from shipwreck, by the possession of such a noble and efficient boat. there was a great gathering at ramsgate to witness the first public trial the boat was to be put through; naval officers, elder brethren of the trinity house, scientific men of all services were interested deeply in the series of experiments to which she was to be subjected, for they all fully realized how the question of life or death to thousands, yea, in the course of time, to tens of thousands, was involved in the problem, as to whether any boat could be found competent to resist all the fury of a raging and broken sea. the _northumberland_ was manned, and first her stability was to be tested; all her crew stood and jumped upon one gunwale, but failed to upset her; her self-righting property was next to be tried; they brought her under a crane, and passing a rope from her mast round her bottom, gradually hauled her over, and she was bottom up; they let go the strain on the rope, and in five seconds she had righted herself, and in twenty seconds more she had emptied herself of water. again she was to be turned over, and this time fresh interest was to be excited in the experiment, as mr. samuel beeching, the son of the inventor and builder of the boat, determined to show his confidence in her powers by being in her when she was upset: slowly the strain is again put upon the rope under-running the boat, and she gradually turns over, mr. beeching clinging to the centre thwart the while; a moment's suspense, the boat is keel up, and the brave man out of sight--scarcely time for a pang of fear, when the boat comes round with a throb, and the man is seen standing on the thwart, cheering in answer to the cheers with which the success of the experiment and his re-appearance are greeted. now for a trial at sea, among the bright leaping waves, which seem full of playfulness and glee, as if ready to greet her merrily, and to whisper no word of the many deadly conflicts she must wage with them in coming days, ere she shall snatch the spoil of human life from their rage and strength. strong arms are at the oars, the good ash staves bend, and away she shoots through the waves, holding her own successfully as other boats race with her. her sailing powers must be tried, and a revenue-cutter accepts her challenge; both bowl along with a fresh breeze bellying their sails, and the life-boat behaves well and bravely, and proves also a success under sail. the breeze freshens, and there is a great bubble of leaping surf in the broken water in the angle of the pier; an ordinary boat would speedily be swamped there; but there the life-boat rides on the tumbling seas like a thing of life; every experiment increases the confidence that her crew and the lookers-on feel in the boat. seaward now for a sterner trial, and on the field where her numerous future contests are to be fought, and her numerous victories gained; out and away where the rolling seas break in upon the goodwin sands, and where they fret into surf as they are checked in their race, and make the sea white with the foam of their falling crests; away into the tumbling seas, running the gauntlet of the leaping waves; away, and away, she speeds round the north end of the sands, then steers for the north foreland, until all her crew are perfectly delighted with her powers, and return to describe the trip, and how she behaved, and the confidence they have in her, that they would not hesitate to go in her into any broken water whatever. great is the congratulation and gladness among the naval and scientific men who are watching the experiments, and many thank god, that at last the problem is solved--that a boat is found able to defy the broken surf and raging waves--a fit and safe instrument in the hands of the brave-hearted boatmen, who are ever ready to do and dare all that is possible, in their efforts to save life from shipwreck. the crew that went out in the boat made the following report:- to the harbour commissioners. "this is to certify that we have this day been to sea in the _northumberland_ prize life-boat, and have had every opportunity of proving her sailing qualities; she has also been through a great deal of broken water and heavy sea, and we consider her, in the true sense of the word, perfectly qualified to encounter any bad weather when occasion might require her services, and we should be quite willing to go in her to any vessel in distress at any time." the prize life-boat was purchased in december, 1851, for â£250, by the trinity board, for the use of the royal harbour at ramsgate, with the dread goodwin sands for her special cruising ground. the trial of the life-boat became an especial feature at the various regattas held round the coast. the interest in her became very general, and a great move was given to the life-boat cause. at teignmouth they determined that the trial should be of a very practical and somewhat sensational nature--a capsize out at sea! at eleven o'clock one stormy morning the signal was given to man the life-boat. in about one quarter of an hour she was making her way out to sea, and then her crew endeavoured to capsize her; they had tried in vain to do so in smooth water, would she defy their efforts in a rough tumble of sea and heavy weather? they set all her sails and manoeuvred in every way to upset her, but without effect, when, while she was heeling over almost on her broadside, with all her sails full, the crew, at a given signal, jumped on her lee-gunwale, and down on her broadside she went; her sails were let go, and she righted at once, only two of her crew were thrown out of her, and these, with their cork jackets on, were bobbing up and down quite happily among the waves; they were soon picked up, and the boat speedily on her way again, the men more pleased and confident than ever in her wonderful powers. but the national life boat institution was not quite contented with the prize life-boat; she had gained eighty-six marks out of the one hundred in the competition of models; she was near perfection, but still could be improved upon; and as the great aim of the society was to obtain a perfect boat, they would naturally not be content with anything less than this desired perfection, a boat that should satisfy the judges to the full in every particular, and thus merit the whole one hundred marks, instead of the eighty-six. mr. peake, the then assistant master-shipwright at the royal dockyard at woolwich, was appealed to. he made the matter his especial study. he took the prize-boat as his model, and combining with it some of the best qualities of the other boats, constructed a boat not differing much, or in any essential point, from the prize one, but yet sufficiently an improvement upon it to be pronounced as far as possible perfect on all points; and it was at once adopted by the national life boat institution as the standard model life-boat. the life-boat cause was now to know no further stay in its onward course, the committee was formed of thoroughly earnest and warm-hearted men--men full of practical knowledge and warm sympathy. moreover, the institution was blessed with as able and indefatigable a secretary as an institution ever rejoiced in, this in the person of mr. richard lewis, barrister-at-law; the appeal to the public for sympathy and assistance was general, and generally acknowledged. the society told of dangerous headlands, of treacherous sands and tides all round the coast, of shipwrecks frequent, and deaths often occurring for want of a life-boat, and of life-boats, faultless in construction, only waiting the time when the committee should have the means to place them where needed; the funds grew as the wants were realized, and the heart of the nation was warmed to the noble cause; the wreck-chart still showed a dismal circumference of casualties round the coast, marking dangerous points where many vessels had been lost; but the inner line of defence began also to show itself on the map, and the marks of the life-boat stations began year by year to confront more regularly the signs of places where danger and shipwreck were most frequent. but more of this, and the noble life-boat society, in the closing chapter of the book. it is time that we launched our life-boat for its real work. the waves are roaring on the goodwin, the life-boat is at her moorings in the harbour of ramsgate, the brave boatmen--storm warriors indeed--are on the watch, hour after hour through the stormy night walking the pier, and giving keen glances to where the goodwin sands are white with the churning seething waves that leap high, and plunge and foam amid the treacherous shoals and banks. look! a flash is seen; listen, in a few seconds, yes, there is the throb and boom of a distant gun, a rocket cleaves the darkness; and now the cry--man the life-boat! man the life-boat! seaward ho! seaward ho! but now in a boat efficient on all points, whose only career shall be to save, and not to add victim to victim, as she herself is overcome by the rage of the sea. chapter vi. the ramsgate life-boat at work.--storm warriors to the rescue. "ye mariners of england, that guard our native seas; whose flag has braved a thousand years the battle and the breeze! your glorious standard launch again to match another foe; and sweep through the deep, while the stormy winds do blow, while the battle rages loud and long and the stormy winds do blow." it was a sunday night, in the month of february, a few years ago, the anxious boatmen, who kept a diligent watch, shrugged their shoulders as they cast keen glances to windward, and declared that it was going to be a very dirty night. heavy masses of cloud skirted the horizon as the sun set; and as the night drew on, violent gusts of wind swept along, accompanied by snow-squalls. it was a dangerous time for vessels in the channel, and it proved fatal to one at least. before the light broke on monday morning, the margate lugger _eclipse_ put out to sea to cruise round the shoals and sands in the neighbourhood of margate, on the look out for the victims of any disasters that might have occurred during the night. the crew soon discovered that a vessel was ashore on the margate sands, and directly made for her. she proved to be the spanish brig _samaritano_ of one hundred and seventy tons, bound from antwerp to santander, and laden with a valuable and miscellaneous cargo. her crew consisted of the captain, modesto crispo, and eleven men; it was during a violent squall of wind and snow that the vessel was driven on the sands, at about half-past five in the morning; the crew attempted to get away from the vessel in the boats, but in vain, the oars were broken in the attempt, and the boats stove in. the lugger _eclipse_, as she was running for the brig, spoke a whitstable fishing-smack, and borrowed two of her men and her boat. they boarded the brig as the tide went down, and hoped to be able to get her off the sands at the next high water. for this purpose, six margate boatmen and the two whitstable men were left on board. but with the rising tide, the gale came on again in all its fury, and the boatmen had speedily to give up every hope of saving the vessel. they hoisted their boat on board to prevent her being swamped by the seas which were breaking heavily, and all hands began to feel that it was becoming a question, not of saving the vessel, but of saving their own lives. the sea rushed furiously over the wreck, lifting her, and then letting her fall with crushing violence upon the sands. her timbers did not long withstand this trial of their strength; a hole was quickly knocked in her side, she filled with water, and settled down upon the sand. the waves began now to break with great force over the deck; the lugger's boat was speedily knocked to pieces and swept overboard; the hatches were forced up, and some of the cargo which floated on the deck was at once washed away. the brig began to roll and labour fearfully, as wave after wave broke against her, with a force that shook her from stem to stern and threatened to throw her bodily upon her broadside; the men, fearing this, cut the weather-rigging of the main mast, and the mast soon broke off short with a great crash, and went over the side. all hands now took refuge in the fore-rigging; nineteen men had then no other hope between them and a terrible death than the few shrouds of the shaking mast. the wind beat against the poor fellows with hurricane force; each wave that broke against the vessel sprang up in columns of foam and drenched them to the skin; the air was full of spray and sleet, which froze upon them as it fell. the margate boatmen were there, but the margate lugger could not have lived five minutes in the sea that surrounded the vessel; the whitstable smack would have been wrecked at once, if she had attempted to get near the wreck, and thus the poor fellows, caught in a trap, had to be left by their comrades to their fate, their only chance of escape being the possibility of a life-boat coming to their rescue, and this before their frail support should yield to the rush of wind and sea. and resting in this hope they waited hour after hour, clinging to the shrouds of the tottering mast; but no help came, until one and all despaired of life. in the meanwhile, news of the wreck had spread like wildfire through margate. in spite of the gale, and the blinding snow squalls, many of the inhabitants struggled to the cliff, and with spy-glasses tried to penetrate the scud, or to gain in the breaks of the storm some glimpses of the wreck. as soon as the peril the crew of the brig were in was known, the smaller of the two margate life-boats was manned and made to the rescue. as she sailed out into the storm, the seas broke over her and filled her; this her gallant crew heeded little at first, for they had every confidence in her powers to ride safely through any storm, that her air-tight compartments would prevent her from sinking; but to the astonishment of the men they found that the boat was rapidly losing her buoyancy, and fast becoming unmanageable; indeed she was filling with water, which came up to the men's waists. the air-tight boxes had evidently filled; and they remembered, too late, that the valves, with which each box is provided to let out any water that may leak in, had been left unscrewed in the excitement of starting. their boat, with the air-tight compartments filled with water, virtually ceased to be a life-boat, and her crew had to struggle for their own safety. although then within a quarter of a mile of the brig, there was no help for it, they could make no farther way against the storm; the boat was unmanageable, and the only chance of life left to the boatmen themselves, was to run her ashore on the nearest part of the coast. it was doubtful whether they would be able to succeed even in this; and it was not until they had battled for four hours with the sea and gale, that they were able to get ashore in westgate bay. there the coastguard were ready to receive them, and did their best to revive the exhausted men. as soon as it was discovered at margate that the first life-boat was disabled, the large life-boat, the _friend of all nations_, was got ready with every speed, and with much trouble dragged round to the lee side of the pier, where it was launched. away she started, her brave crew doing all they could to battle with the gale, and force their way out to the wreck; but all their efforts were in vain; the tremendous wind was right against them; the sea completely overpowered them, and prevented their beating to windward; the tiller gave way, and after a hard struggle her crew had also to give up the attempt, and this life-boat in turn was driven ashore about one mile from the town. with both their life-boats wrecked, the margate men almost gave up all hopes of saving the crew of the vessel and the men that were left on board; but this should not be the case until every possible effort had been made; but it was with small hope for the shipwrecked, and with much apprehension for the boats themselves, that the people watched two luggers--the _nelson_ and the _lively_--undaunted by the fate of the life-boats, stagger out mid the sweeping seas to the rescue. the fate of one lugger, the _nelson_, was soon settled; a fearful squall of wind caught her before she had got many hundred yards clear of the pier; it swept her foremast out of her, and her crew had to make every possible effort to avoid being driven on the rocks, and there wrecked. the _lively_ was more fortunate; she beat her way out to sea, but found so heavy a surf breaking over the sands, that it was evidently impossible to cross them, or to get near the wreck. the margate people became full of despair, and many a bitter tear was shed for sympathy and for personal loss as they watched the wreck, and thought of the poor fellows perishing slowly before their eyes, apparently without any possibility of being saved. a rumour spread among the crowd that the lieutenant of the coastguard had sent an express off to ramsgate, for the ramsgate steamer and life-boat; but this scarcely afforded any hope, as it was thought impossible that the steamer and life-boat could make their way round the north foreland in the teeth of so tremendous a gale, or that, if they did so, it was supposed impossible that either the ship could hold together, or the crew live, exposed as they were in the rigging, during the time it would of necessity take the steamer and boat to get to them. we now change the scene to ramsgate. from an early hour on the monday morning, groups of boatmen assembled on the pier at ramsgate; they were occasionally joined by some of the more hardy among the townsmen, or by a stray visitor, attracted by the wild scene that the storm presented. the boatmen could faintly discern, in the intervals between the snow-squalls, a few vessels in the distance, running before the gale, and they were keenly on the watch for signals of distress, that they might hasten to the rescue. but no such signal was given. every now and then, as the wind boomed by, some landsmen suggested that it was the report of a gun from one, or other, of the three light-vessels, which guard the dangerous goodwin sands; but the boatmen shook their heads, and those who with spy-glasses kept a look-out in the direction of the light-vessels confirmed them in their disbelief. about nine o'clock, tidings came to ramsgate that a brig was ashore on the woolpack sands off margate. it was, of course, concluded that the two margate life-boats would go to the rescue; and although there was much anxiety and excitement as to the result of the attempt the margate boatmen would certainly make, no one had the least idea that the services of the ramsgate life-boat would be required. but shortly after twelve a coastguard man from margate hastened breathless to the pier, and to the harbour-master's office, saying, in answer to eager inquiries as he hurried on, that the two margate life-boats had been wrecked, and that the ramsgate boat was wanted. the harbour-master immediately gave orders, "man the life-boat." no sooner had the words passed from his lips than the boatmen, who had crowded round the door in anticipation of the order, rushed away to the boat. first come, first in; not a moment's hesitation, not a thought of further clothing; they will go as they are, rather than not go at all. the news rapidly spreads; each boatman as he heard it, hastily snatched up his bag of waterproof overalls, and south-wester cap, and rushed down to the boat; and for some time boatman after boatman was to be seen racing down the pier, hoping to find a place still vacant; if the race had been to save their lives, rather than to risk them, it would hardly have been more hotly contested. some of those who had won the race and were in the boat, were ill prepared with clothing for the hardships they would have to endure, for if they had not their waterproofs at hand they did not delay to get them, fearing that the crew might be made up before they got to the boat. but these men were supplied by the generosity of their disappointed friends, who had come down better prepared, but too late for the enterprise; the famous cork jackets were thrown into the boat and at once put on by the men. the powerful steam-tug, well named the _aid_, that belongs to the harbour, and has her steam up night and day ready for any emergency that may arise, speedily got her steam to full power, and with her brave and skilful master, daniel reading, in command, took the boat in tow, and together they made their way out of the harbour. james hogben, who, with reading, has been in many a wild scene of danger, was coxswain, and steered and commanded the life-boat. it was nearly low water at the time, but the force of the gale was such as to send a good deal of spray dashing over the pier; the snow fell in blinding squalls, and drifted and eddied in every protected nook and corner. it was hard work for the excited crowd of people, who had assembled to see the life-boat start, to battle their way through the drifts and against the wind, snow, and foam to the head of the pier; but there at last they gathered, and many a one felt his heart fail as the steamer and boat cleared the protection of the pier, and encountered the first rush of wind and sea outside. "she seemed to go out under water," said one old fellow; "i would not have gone out in her for the universe." and those who did not know the heroism and determination that such scenes call forth in the breasts of the boatmen, could not help wondering much at the eagerness which had been displayed to get a place in the boat--and this although the hardy fellows knew that the two margate life-boats had been wrecked in the attempt to get the short distance which separated the wreck from margate; while they would have to battle their way through the gale for ten or twelve miles before they could get even in sight of the vessel. it says nothing against the daring or skill of the margate boatmen, that they failed. in such a gale they could not get to windward against wind and tide, success therefore was almost impossible without the aid of steam; with a steam-boat to tow them into position for dashing in upon the sands, the margate boats would in all probability have succeeded; without such assistance the ramsgate boat would have certainly failed. as soon as the steamer and boat got clear of the ramsgate pier, they felt the full force of the storm, and it seemed almost doubtful whether they could make any progress against it. they slowly worked their way out of the full strength of the tide, as it swept round the head of the pier, and then began to move ahead a little more rapidly, and were soon ploughing their way through a perfect sea of foam. the steamer with its engines working full power, plunged heavily along; wave after wave broke over its bows, sent its spray flying over the funnel and mast, and deluged the deck with a tide of water, which, as it rushed aft, gave the men enough to do to hold on. the life-boat was towing astern with fifty fathom of five-inch hawser out, an enormously strong rope about the thickness of a man's wrist. her crew already experienced the dangers and discomforts, that they were ready to endure, perhaps, for many hours, and without a murmur, in order to save life. there was anxiety and fear, but the one thought of anxiety and fear was, as to whether they could possibly be in time to save the lives of the poor fellows, who must, for so many hours, have been clinging to a shattered wreck. it would be hard to give a description to enable one to realize the position of the men in the boat, as they were being towed along by the steamer. the use of a life-boat is, that it will float and live, where other boats would of necessity be swamped, upset, and founder; they are made for, and generally only used on, occasions of extreme danger and peril, for terrible storms and wild seas. the water flows into the boat, and over it, and it still floats: some huge wave will break over it, and for a moment bury it, but it rises in its buoyancy and shakes itself free; beaten down on its broadside by the waves and wind, it struggles hard, and soon rises again on an upright keel, and defies them to do their worst; and even if some mighty breaker should come rushing along, catch her in its curling arms, and bodily upset her, only for a few seconds would the triumph last, the boat would speedily right again, sitting like an ark of refuge in the boiling sea of foam, while her crew, upheld by their cork jackets, would be floating and struggling around her, until one after another would manage to regain her sides, and clamber in over her low gunwale at the waist, and shortly she would be speeding away again on her life errand. such were the qualities of the noble boat, which we are watching, while she is urging her way through the dismal seas, while a dozen poor fellows, some nine or ten miles off, are hanging to the shaking shrouds of a tottering mast, the waves that are breaking over them threatening every moment to be their tomb. away! away, then, brave boat! gallant crew! god grant you good progress! since the moment of clearing the pier, the waves that broke over the boat filled her time after time, and did everything but drown her. the men were up to their knees in water; they bent forward as much as they could, each with a firm hold upon the boat. the spray and waves rushed over them, and as they beat continuously upon their backs, although they could not penetrate their waterproof clothing, still they chilled them to the bone, for, as the spray fell, it froze, indeed so bitter was the cold that the men's mittens were frozen to their hands. after a tremendous struggle the steamer seemed to be making head against the storm; they were well clear of the pier and getting on gallantly. they made their way through the cud channel, and had passed between the black and white buoys, so well known to ramsgate visitors, when a fearful sea came heading towards them. it met and broke over the steamer, buried her in foam, and swept along. the life-boat rose to it, for a moment hung with her bows high in air, and then as she felt the strain of the tow-rope, plunged bodily into the wave, and was almost altogether under water; the men were nearly washed out of her, but at that moment the tow-rope broke, the wave threw the boat back with a jerk, and as the strain of the rope suddenly ceased, the boat fell across the seas which swept in rapid succession over her, and seemed completely at their mercy. oars out! oars out! was the cry, and the men, as soon as they could get breath, got them out, and began to make every effort to get the boat round again, head to wind, but in vain, the waves tossed the oars up, the wind caught the blades, and it was as much as the men could do to keep them in their hands. the gale was too heavy for them, and they drifted rapidly before wind and tide towards the brake shoal, which was directly under their lee, and over which the seas were rushing with great violence. but the steamer, which throughout was handled most admirably, both as regards skill and bravery, was put round as swiftly as possible, and very cleverly brought within a few yards to windward of the boat, as she lay athwart the sea. the men on board the steamer threw a hauling line on board the boat to which was attached a bran new hawser, and again took the boat in tow. the tide was still flowing, and as it rose, the wind came up in heavier and heavier gusts, bringing with it a blinding snow and sleet, which, with the spray, still freezing as it fell, swept over the boat, till the men looked, as one said at the time, like a body of ice. the men could not look to windward for the drifting snow and blinding seas which were continually rushing over them, they only knew that the strong steamer was plunging along, taking all as it came, for they felt the strain on the rope; thus they realized that each moment's suffering and peril brought them nearer to their poor perishing fellow-sailors; and not one heart failed, not one repented of winning the race to the life-boat. off broadstairs, they suddenly felt the way of the boat stop. the rope broken again, was the first thought of all; but on looking round as they were enabled to do, as the boat was no longer being dragged through the seas; they discovered to their utter dismay that the steamer had stopped; they thought that her machinery had broken down, and at once despaired of saving the lives of the shipwrecked, for with the wind as it was, it would be long hours before they could beat up against the gale, and get to the sands, on which they were told the wreck lay; a moment's suspense and they discovered, to their gladness, that the steamer had merely stopped to let out more cable, fearful that it might break again in the struggle that was before them, as they fought their way round the north foreland. another hour's hard struggle, and they reached the north foreland. there the sea was running tremendously high--the gale was still increasing; the snow, sleet, and spray, rushed by with hurricane speed. although it was only early in the afternoon, the air was so darkened by the storm that it seemed a dull twilight. the captain of the boat was steering; he peered out between his collar and cap, but looked in vain for the steamer. he knew that she was all right, for the rope kept taught; but many times, although she was only a hundred yards ahead, he could see nothing of her, still less able were the men on board the steamer to see the life-boat. often did they anxiously look astern, and watch for a break in the drift and scud to see that she was all right; for although there could be no doubt as to the strain upon the rope, she might be towing along bottom up, or have all her men washed out of her, for all they could tell. the master of the steamer watched the seas, which broke over the _aid_, making her stagger again, as they rushed towards the life-boat, and several times the fear that she was gone came over him. but steamer and life-boat still battled successfully against the storm. as soon as they were round the north foreland, the snow squall cleared and they sighted margate; all anxiously looked for the wreck, but nothing of her could they see. they saw a lugger riding just clear of the pier, with foremast gone, and anchor down to prevent her being driven ashore by the gale. they next sighted the margate life-boat driven ashore and abandoned in westgate bay, looking a complete wreck, the waves beating over her. a little beyond this they caught sight of the second life-boat, also washed ashore; and then they learnt to realize to the full the gallant efforts that had been made to save the shipwrecked, and the destruction that had been wrought as effort after effort had been overcome by the fury of the storm. but where was the wreck? had she been beaten to pieces, all lives lost, and were they too late? a heavy mass of cloud and snowstorm rolled on to windward of them in the direction of the sands off margate, and they could not make out any signs of the wreck there. there was just a chance that it was the woolpack sand that she was on. they thought it the more likely, as the first intelligence of the wreck that came to ramsgate declared that such was the case; and accordingly they determined to make for the woolpack sand, which was about three miles farther on; they had scarcely decided upon this, when, providentially, there was a break in the drift of the snow to windward, and they suddenly caught sight of the wreck. but for this sudden clearance in the storm they would, as we have said, have proceeded farther on, and some hours must have passed before they could have found out their mistake and got back again, and by that time every soul of the poor shipwrecked crew must have perished. the master of the steamer made out the flag of distress flying in the rigging of the vessel, the ensign union downwards; she, doubtlessly, was the wreck of which they were in search. but still it was a question how they could get to her, for she was on the other side of the sand. to tow the boat round the sand would take a long time in the face of such a gale; and for the boat to make across the sand seemed almost impossible, so tremendous was the sea that was running over it. nevertheless there was no hesitation on the part of the life-boat crew. it seemed a forlorn hope, a very rushing upon destruction, to attempt to force the boat under canvas through such a surf and sea; but they looked at the tottering wreck; they felt how any moment might be the last to the poor fellows clinging to her, and they could not bear to think of the delay that would be occasioned by their going round the sands. without hesitation, therefore, they cast off the tow-rope, and were about setting sail, when they found that the tide was running so furiously that they must be towed at least three miles to the eastward before they would be sufficiently far to windward to make certain of fetching the wreck. it was a hard struggle to get the tow-rope on board again, tossed about as they were by the tumbling seas, and a bitter disappointment to all, that an hour, or more, of their precious time must be consumed before they could possibly get to the rescue of their endangered brother seamen; but there was no help for it, and away again they went in tow of the steamer. the snow-squall came on again, and they lost sight of the wreck, but all kept an anxious look-out, and now and then, in a break in the squall, they could catch a glimpse of her. they could see that she was almost buried in the waves which broke over her in great clouds of foam, and again many and weary were the doubts and speculations, as to whether any on board of her could still be alive. for twenty minutes or so they battled steadily on against wind and tide. the gale, which had been increasing since the morning, came on heavier than ever, and roared like thunder over head; the sea was running so furiously and meeting the life-boat with such tremendous force that the men had to cling on their hardest not to be washed out of her, and at last the new tow-rope could no longer resist the increasing strain, and suddenly parted with a tremendous jerk; there was no thought of picking up the cable again--they could stand no further delay, and one and all of her crew rejoiced to hear the captain of the life-boat give orders to set sail. chapter vii. the rescue of the crew of the "samaritano," and the return. now set the teeth, and stretch the nostril wide; hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit to his full height! on, on, you noble english, whose blood is set from fathers of war-proof! fathers that, like so many alexanders, have, in these parts, from morn till even fought. "king henry v."--_shakespeare._ harder still the gale, and the rush of the sea and the blinding snow. the storm was at its height. as the life-boat headed for the sands, a darkness, as of night, seemed to settle down upon the men; they could scarcely see each other; but on through the raging sea and blinding storm they drove the gallant boat. as they approached the shallow water, the high part of the sand, where the heaviest waves were breaking, they could see spreading itself before them, standing out in the gloom, a white, gleaming, barrier wall of foam; for there as the rushing waves broke, they clashed together in their recoil, and mounted up in columns of foam, their heavier volume falling, and their crests caught by the wind and carried away in white streaming clouds of spray, while the fearful roar of the beat of the waves could be heard above the gale. but still straight for the breakers the men made. no faltering, no hesitation, brows knit, teeth clenched, hands ready, and hearts firm, and into it with a cheer. the boat, although under the smallest sail she could carry--a double reefed fore-sail and mizen--was driven on by the hurricane force of the wind, on through the outer range of breakers she plunged, and then came indeed a struggle for life. the waves no longer rolled on in foaming ranks, but leapt, and clashed, and battled together in a raging boil of sea. they broke over the boat, the surf poured in first on one side of the boat, and then on the other, as she rolled to starboard and port, wildly tossed from side to side. some waves rushed bodily over the boat, threatening to sweep every man out of her. look out, my men! hold on! hold on! was the cry. when they saw some huge breaker heading towards them like an advancing wall, then the men threw themselves breast down on the thwart, curled their legs under it, clasped it with all their force with both arms, held their breath hard, and clung on for very life against the tear and wrestle of the wave, while the rush of water poured over their backs and heads, and buried them in its flood. down, down, beneath the weight of the water, the men and boat sank; but only for a moment; the splendid boat rose in her buoyancy, and freed herself of the seas, which for a moment had overcome her and buried her, and her crew breathed again; and a struggling cry of triumph rises from them. well done, old boat! well done! all right! all right! yes, all hands here, no one washed out of her; and with a quick glance of mutual congratulation they look at each other, and rejoice that all are safe, scarce time for a word. "now she goes through it, now she's forging ahead! keep a tight hold, my boys!" a moment's lull, as she glided on the crest of some huge wave, or only smaller ones tried their strength against her; then again the monster fellows came heading on, again the warning cry was given; look out! hold on! hold on! and the men crouched, and clung, and struggled for their lives, while the wild waves rushed over the boat. thus until they got clear of the sands the fearful struggle was again and again repeated; but at last it was for a time over, they had burst through the belt of raging surf and got again into deep water. they had then only the huge rolling waves and less broken tumble of sea to contend with; this, in such a furious gale of wind, was bad enough, and almost more than any other kind of boat could have endured, but little in comparison to what they had just gone through, and escaped from. the boat was now put before the wind, and every man in her was on the look-out for the wreck. for a time it remained so thick that there was no possibility of finding her, when again a second time a sudden break in the storm revealed her: she was about half a mile to leeward. they shifted the foresail with great difficulty, and again made in for the sands towards the vessel. the appearance of the wreck as they approached her made even the stoutest among them shudder. she had settled down by the stern in the sands, the uplifted bow being the only part of the hull that was to be seen; the sea was making a clear breach over her. the mainmast was gone, her foresail, and foretopsail were blown adrift, and great columns of foam were mounting up, flying over her foremast and bow. they saw a margate lugger lying at anchor just clear of the sands, and made close to her. as they shot by they could just make out, mid the roar of the storm, a loud hail, eight of our men on board! and on they flew, and in a few minutes were in a sea that would instantly have swamped the lugger, noble and powerful boat though she was. approaching the wreck, it was with terrible anxiety they strained their sight, trying to discover if there were still any men left in the tangled mass of rigging, over which the sea was breaking so furiously. by degrees they made them out. "i see a man's head, look! one is waving his arm."--"i make out two! three! why the rigging is full of the poor fellows;" and with a cheer of triumph, at being yet in time, the life-boat crew settled to their work. the wreck of the mainmast, and the tremendous wash of sea over the vessel, prevented their going to the lee of the wreck. this increased their danger tenfold, as the result proved. when about forty yards from the wreck, they lowered their sails, and cast the anchor over the side. the moment for which the boat had so gallantly battled for four hours, and the shipwrecked had waited almost in despair for eight hours, had at last arrived. no cheering! no shouting in the boat now, no whisper beyond the necessary orders; the risk and suspense are too terrible! yard by yard, the cable is cautiously payed out, and the great rolling seas are allowed to carry the boat, little by little, nearer to the vessel. the waves break over the boat, for a moment bury it, and then as the sea rushes on, and breaks upon the wreck, the spray, flying up, hides the men lashed to the rigging from the boatman's sight. they hoist up a corner of the sail to let the boat sheer in; all are ready; a huge wave lifts them. pay out the cable! sharp, men! sharp! the coxswain shouts; belay all! the cable was let go a few yards by the run, and the boat is alongside the wreck. with a cry, three men jump into the boat and are saved! all hands to the cable! haul in hand over hand, for your lives, men, quick, the coxswain cries; for he sees a tremendous wave rushing in swiftly upon them. they haul in the cable, draw the boat a little from the wreck, the wave passes and breaks over the vessel; if the life-boat had been alongside she would have been dashed against the wreck, and perhaps capsized, or washed over, and utterly destroyed. again the men watch the waves, and as they see a few smaller ones approaching, let the cable run again, and get alongside; this time they are able to remain a little longer by the vessel; and one after another, thirteen of the shipwrecked men unlash themselves from the rigging and jump into the boat, when again they draw away from the vessel in all haste, and avoid threatened destruction. "are they all saved?" no! three of the vessel's crew, spaniards, are still left in the rigging; they seem almost dead, and scarcely able to unlash themselves, and crawl down the shrouds and await the return of the boat. again the boat is alongside, and this time the peril is greater than ever. they must place the boat close to the vessel, for the men are too weak to make any spring to reach her; they must remain alongside for a longer time, for two life-boatmen must get on to the wreck and lift the men on board; but, as before, they go coolly, quietly, and determinedly to work; the cable is veered out, the sail manoeuvred to make the boat sheer, and again she is alongside; the men are seized by their arms and clothing, and dragged into the boat. the last one left is the cabin-boy; he seems entangled in the rigging. the poor little fellow had a canvas bag of trinkets and things, he was taking as presents to the loved ones at home, and all through the howling storm, the rush and beat of the waves, as he held on exhausted and half dead to the shrouds, he still thought of those loved friends, and clung to the canvas bag. god only knows whether the loved ones at home were thinking of, and praying for him, and whether it was in answer to their prayers and those of many others that the life-boat then rode alongside that wreck, an ark of safety mid the raging seas. they shout, the boy lingers still, his half-dead hands cannot free the bag from the entangled rigging. a moment and all are lost; a boatman makes a spring, seizes the lad with a strong grasp, and tears him down from the rigging into the boat--too late, too late; they cannot get away from the vessel; a tremendous wave rushes on: hold hard all, hold anchor! hold cable! give but a yard, and all are lost! the boat lifts, is washed into the fore-rigging, the sea passes, and she settles down again upon an even keel! thank god! if one stray rope of all the torn and tangled rigging of the vessel had caught the boat's rigging, or one of her spars--if the boat's keel or cork fenders had caught in the shattered gunwale, she would have turned over, and every man in her been shaken into the sea to speedy and certain death. thank god, it is not so, and once more they are safe. the boat is very crowded; she has her own crew of thirteen on board, six of the margate boatmen and two whitstable fishermen, who were left on the vessel, the captain, mate, eight seamen and the boy; thus, thirty-two souls in all form her precious freight. the life-boatmen at once, without a second's delay, haul in the cable as fast as possible, and draw up to the anchor to get clear of the wreck, for they must get some distance away before they dare let go their cable, or with the wind and seas setting directly towards the vessel they would be driven upon her, unless they had plenty of room to sail by her. an anxious time it is, as they draw up to the anchor; at last they are pretty clear, and hoist the sail to draw still farther away before they let go. there is no thought of getting the anchor up in such a gale and sea. "she draws away," cries the captain of the boat, "pay out the cable; stand by to cut it; pass the hatchet forward; cut the cable, quick, my men, quick." there is a moment's delay, a delay by which indeed all their lives are saved; a few strong blows with the hatchet, and the cable would have been parted. a boatman takes out his knife, and begins gashing away at the hawser. already one strand out of the three, which form the strong rope, is severed; when a fearful gust of wind sweeps by, the boat heels over almost on her side--a crash is heard, and the mast and sail are blown clean out of the boat. never was a moment of greater peril. away in the rush of the wave the boat is carried straight for the wreck; the cable is payed out and is slack; they haul it in as fast as they can, but on they are carried swiftly, apparently to certain destruction. let them hit the wreck full, and the next wave must throw the boat bodily upon it, and all her crew will be swept at once into the sea; let them but touch the wreck, and the risk is fearful; on they are carried, the stem of the boat just grazes the bow of the vessel, they must be capsized by the bowsprit and entangled in the wreckage; some of the crew are ready for a spring into the bowsprit to prolong their lives a few minutes, the others are all steadily, eagerly, quietly, hauling in upon the cable might and main, as the only chance of safety to the boat and crew; one moment more and all are gone, one more haul upon the cable, a fathom or so comes in by the run, and at that moment it mercifully taughtens and holds; all may yet be safe, another yard or two and the boat would have been dashed to pieces. they again haul in the cable, and draw the boat away as rapidly as they can from the wreck, but they do it with a terrible dread, for they remember the cut strand of the rope. will the remaining two strands hold? the strain is fearful, each time that the boat lifts to a wave, the cable tightens and jerks, and they think it breaking; but it still holds, and a thrill of joy passes through the heart of all, as they hear that the cut part of the rope is safely in the boat. but the danger is not even yet over: all this time the mast and sail have been dragging over the side of the boat; it is with great difficulty that they get them on board. the mast had been broken short off about three feet from the heel. they chop a new heel to it, and rig it up as speedily as they can, but it takes long to do so; for the boat is lying in the trough of the sea, and the waves are constantly breaking over her; moreover, she is so crowded that the men can scarcely move, and the gale is blowing as hard as ever. for the poor spaniards, as they cling to each other, the terrors of death seem scarcely passed away; they know nothing of the properties of the life-boat, and cannot believe that it will live long in such a sea. as the waves beat over the boat and fill it, they imagine that she will founder, and each time that the great rolling seas launch themselves at her they cling to each other, expecting that she will capsize; besides, the poor fellows' nerves are not in a very good state; for eight hours they have been in great danger, for a large portion of that time in momentary expectation of death, during the four hours they were lashed to the rigging of the wreck, with the life nearly beaten and frozen out of them by the constant rush of sea and of spray, and by the bitter wind. one of the spaniards seeing a life-belt lying down, which one of the crew had thrown off in the hurry of his work, sits upon it by way of making himself doubly safe. but the work goes on. at last the mast is fitted and raised. no unnecessary word is spoken all this time, for the life and death struggle is not yet over; nor, indeed, can it be before they are well away from the neighbourhood of the wreck. now, as they hoist the sail, the boat gradually draws away; the cable is again payed out little by little; as soon as they are well clear of the vessel they cut it, and away they sail. the terrible suspense is over when each moment was a moment of fearful risk. it had lasted from the time when they let go the anchor to the time when they got clear of the vessel--about one hour. the men could now breathe freely, their faces brighten, and from one and all there arises spontaneously a pealing cheer. they are no longer face to face with death, and thankfully and joyfully they sail away from the sands, the breakers, and the wreck. the gale was still at its height, but the peril they were in then seemed nothing to what they had gone through, and had happily left behind. in the great reaction of feeling, the freezing cold and sleet, the driving wind, and foam, and sea, were all forgotten; and they felt as light-hearted as if they were out on a pleasant summer's cruize. they could at last look round and see who they had in the boat, speak hearty words of congratulation to the margate and whitstable men, some of whom they knew, and strive by a good deal of broken english, and slaps on the back, and shaking of hands, to cheer up the spanish sailors, and to let them know how glad they are to have saved them. they then proceeded in search of the steamer, which, after casting the life-boat adrift, made for shelter to the back of the hook sand, not far from the reculvers, and there waited, her crew anxiously on the look-out for the return of the life-boat. as they were making for the steamer, the lugger _eclipse_ came in chase to hear whether they had succeeded in saving all hands, and especially, whether all the men of her crew were saved. they welcomed the glad tidings with three cheers for the life-boat crew, and made in for the land. soon after, the whitstable smack made towards them upon a similar errand, and her crew were equally rejoiced to hear that their ship-mates with all hands were safe. it was too rough, a great deal, for the men to be taken on board the smack; and so she, after speaking them, tacked in for the land. the night was coming on apace; it was not until they had run three or four miles that they sighted the steamer; and when they got alongside her it was a difficult matter to get the saved crew on board. the sea was raging, and the gale blowing as much as ever, and the steamer rolled and pitched heavily; the poor shipwrecked fellows were too exhausted to spring for the steamer as the opportunities occurred, and had to be almost lifted on board, one poor fellow being hauled on board by a rope. again the boat was taken in tow, almost all her crew remaining in her, and they commenced their return home. the night was very dark and clear; the sea and gale had lost none of their force; and until the steamer and boat had got well round the north foreland, the struggle to get back was just as great as it had been to get there. once round the foreland the wind was well on the quarter, and they made easier way; light after light opened to them; kingsgate and broadstairs were passed, and at last the ramsgate pier-head light shone out with its bright welcome, and the men began to feel that their work was nearly over. a telegram had been sent from margate in the afternoon, stating that the ramsgate life-boat had been seen to save the crew; but nothing more had been heard. the boatmen had calculated the time when they thought the steamer and life-boat might both be back; and the fearful violence of the storm suggested some sad occasion for the delay. as hour after hour grew on, the anxiety increased; real alarm was beginning to be felt by all, and a keen watch was kept for the first appearance of the steamer and boat round the edge of the cliff. as the tide went down, and the sea broke less heavily over the pier, the men could venture farther along it, until, by the time of the boat's return, they were enabled to assemble at the end of the pier, and there a large and anxious crowd gathered. the anxiety of all was increased by the suggestions and speculations of disasters, which always present themselves at a time of suspense and apprehension; and so, when the steamer was announced with the life-boat in tow, the reaction was great, and the watchers shouted for very joy. and as the "storm warriors" entered the harbour waving the strong right arms that had worked so well, and shouted, "all saved!" "all saved!" and the flags of triumph were seen flying out in the gale. cheer after cheer broke from the crowd as they welcomed home from the dread battle-field those who had fought and conquered, and now bore with them as trophies of their victory, nineteen men; fellow-sailors, whose lives had been saved from a terrible and certain death. and many cheered again as they thought of the number who would have had life-long cause to mourn, if these poor fellows had perished. parents, wives, children--what a group they would seem if they could be pictured watching the saved ones return; what words, and looks, and tears of thanks where feelings are too deep for words, for the storm warriors, and for the life-boat cause, and for the generous english people who placed such boats at the disposal of such brave hearts and strong hands--of men ready to dare all and to do all that men can do to rescue the perishing from death. think only of the group that may possibly welcome back the little pale, exhausted cabin-boy, their hearts as warm as his, their love as deep as his--as his, which made that little canvas bag full of simple presents so dear to him that he held to it through all the many hours of the storm; that made it his first thought when the wild seas rushed over the vessel, and the crew had to take to the rigging; love that made him, when grown men thought only of their own lives, rush to his chest and seize his treasure, and all through the wild gale cling to it; cling to it still, though the winds in their bitter cold froze him through and through, and the seas beat over him hour after hour. think of the faces that may have seemed to peer at him out of the darkness of the storm. a loving-hearted father ready to thank him for the tobacco-box; a mother for that wonderful brooch; a little dark-eyed brother for the knife with four blades, and a little sister for the little very blue-eyed doll with such rosy cheeks. no, he could not let the bag go, and so it nearly cost him his life, and by the delay his clinging to it caused, nearly cost all the brave men their lives also; but the good god would not let so much simple love work so much disaster, and the loving ones shall see him again, and perhaps he will stand, and perhaps each of his fellow-sailors will stand, in the centre of some tearful group, who again and again will weep, and thank god, as they are told of the wreck, and the hours of peril, and the waiting for death, and the hopeless despair, and the strange wonderful boat that came in through the storm; and how they were saved, when they never thought to see home again. and often shall the brave boatmen be blessed and thanked by grateful hearts, and the life-boat cause not forgotten. i repeat the picture that we may learn to think much of the sailor's arrival home, as well of his being saved from the wreck, and thus learn to appreciate the more the value and the mercy of life-boat work. but to return. the spanish sailors had, by the time they reached the harbour, somewhat recovered under the care of the life-boat crew, and were further well cared for, and supplied with clothes by the care of the spanish consul. and the hardy english boatmen did not take long to recover from their exposure and fatigues, fearful as they had been. the spanish captain, in speaking of the rescue, was almost overcome by his feelings of gratitude and wonder. he had quite made up his mind for death; he felt that the wreck could not by any possibility hold together much longer; every moment he expected a final crash; and all his experience taught him that it was impossible for any boat to come to their rescue in such a fearful sea. his experience of the life-boat was new, and not easily to be forgotten. he had a painting made of the rescue to take with him and show to the spanish government. it is pleasing to be able to wind up this story with stating, that the english board of control acknowledged the bravery and exertions of the men engaged in the rescue, by presenting to each of them 2_l._ and a medal, and that the spanish government also gratefully acknowledged the heroic exertions of the men, by granting to each a medal and 3_l._ chapter viii. a night on the goodwin sands. "god help the poor fellows at sea!" far away inland, when tempests blow wild through the dark'ning night, we list to the roar of the winds as they go on their hurricane steeds to the fight; for the hosts of the storm-king are gathering fast where the white-crested waters flee, and our heart breathes this prayer, as he rushes past, on the wings of the northern howling blast,- "god help the poor fellows at sea!" _c. t._ "god have mercy upon the poor fellows at sea!" household words these, in english homes, however far inland the homes may be; and although near these homes the sea may have no better representative than a sedge choked river, or canal, along which slow barges urge a lazy way. for when the storm-wrack darkens the sky, and gales are abroad, seaward fly the sympathies of english hearts, and the prayer is uttered, and in many cases, in this sea-loving island of ours, with very special reference to some loved and absent sailor. it is those, however, who live near the sea-shore, and watch the warfare going on in all its terrible reality, that learn the more truly to realize the fearful nature of the struggles for life that go on round our coasts; and who learn as the wild gales rave to find an answer to the murmurings of the fierce blast, in the prayer, "god have mercy upon the poor fellows at sea;" and this especially as they welcome ashore, as wrested from death, some rescued sailor, or mourn over those who have found a sudden grave almost within call of land. it is a pretty picture enough from ramsgate pier, when fifty or a hundred sail are in sight within two or three miles of land, and the day is sunny, and the sea bright, and a good wholesome breeze is bowling along; but anxious withal, when the clouds are gathering, and the fleet of vessels are seeking to make the best of their way to find shelter in the downs: and a south-westerly gale moans up, and the last of the fleet are caught by it, and have to anchor in exposed places, and you watch them riding heavily, making bad weather, the seas every now and then flying over them. it is winter time, and the weather stormy; day after day brings into the harbour fresh evidences of the deadly contest that rages out at sea--vessels towed in disabled, with bulwarks washed away, masts over the side, bows stove in, or leaky, having been in collision, touched the ground or been struck by a sea; who at such times can withhold their interest or sympathy? the veriest landsmen grow excited, and make daily pilgrimages to the pier, to see how the vessels under repairs are getting on, or what new disasters have occurred. but it is at night-time especially that your thoughts take a more solemn and anxious turn. as you settle down by the fireside for a quiet evening, you remember the ugly appearance the sky had some two or three hours before, when you stood watching the scene from the end of the pier. you felt that mischief was brewing, as the gusts of wind swept by with increasing force, and you looked out upon a troubled sea that every minute seemed to grow more white and raging. the downs anchorage was full of shipping; a few vessels had parted their cables, and had to run for it, while the luggers, heavily laden with chains and anchors, staggered out of the harbour to supply them: other ships made for the harbour; you almost shuddered as you looked down upon them from the pier, and saw them in the grasp of the sea, rolling and plunging, with the waves surging over their bows. another minute's battle with the tide, you heard the orders shouted out, you saw the men rushing to obey them--the pilot steady at the wheel, and you could scarce forbear a cheer as ship after ship shot by the pier-head and found refuge in the harbour. altogether it was a wild exciting scene, and you cannot shake off the effect--the wind rushes and moans by, a minute before it was raging over the sea. the muffled roaring sound that is heard, is that of the waves breaking at the foot of the cliff. from the windows can be seen, gleaming out in the darkness, the bright lights of the goodwin light-ships, which guard those fatal sands--sands so fatal, that when the graves give up their dead, few churchyards will render such an account as theirs, not only as to the number of the dead, but also that the sands are a battle-field which entombs the brave and strong, who go down quick to their grave, quick from the full tide of life and strength, from the eager stern deadly contest in which, to the last, all their strong energies were fully engaged. men who, a few hours before, were reckless and merry, anticipating no danger and ready to laugh at the thought of death; who, if homeward bound, were full of joy as they seemed almost to stand upon the threshold of their homes; or by whom, if outward bound, the kisses of their wives, which seemed still to linger on their cheeks, and the soft clasping arms of their little ones, which seemed still to hang about their necks, were only to be forgotten in the few hours of terrible life struggle with the storm, and then again to be keenly remembered in the last gasping moment, ere the goodwin sands should find them a grave almost within the shadow of their homes. there is a sudden report; surely the firing of a gun, a wreck, a vessel on the sands--watch, yes, there! a rocket streams up from one of the light-vessels, and the gun and the rocket five minutes after, form the signal that calls to the life-boat for assistance. the breakers on the sands could be clearly seen from the shore during the day, as they rose and fell like fitful volumes of white eddying smoke, breaking up the clear line of the horizon, and tracing the sands in broken broad leaping outlines of foam. yes! and now, amid those terrible breakers, somewhere out in the darkness, within five or six miles, near that bright light, there are twenty, thirty, fifty, you know not how many, of your fellow-creatures, struggling for their lives. ah! listen to the storm blast, with what dread force it rushes by, what a dirge it seems to moan; and well it may, for if the gale lasts only a few hours, and there is no rescue, the morning may be bright and fair and calm, and the sea as smooth as a lake, but nothing of either ship or crew shall any more be seen. but, thank god! there will be a rescue! you know that already brave hearts have determined to attempt it; that strong ready hands are already at work in cool, quick, preparation; that, almost before you could urge your way against the tempest down to the head of the pier, the steamer and life-boat will have fought their way out against the storm and darkness upon their errand of mercy. "god have mercy upon the poor fellows at sea; upon the shipwrecked in their dismal peril; upon the brave storm warriors speeding out in danger and hardship!" this is the prayer that indeed often finds utterance, when the sleeper is awakened in the dark hours of the night by the howling of the wind or the boom of the signal gun. and at ramsgate the prayer may be uttered fervently indeed by those, who, when they hear the signal of distress, know that the endangered vessel is experiencing all the dread dangers of the goodwin sands, for the vessels wrecked upon them have indeed, if the weather is bad, but a poor prospect of ever sailing the broad seas again. the goodwin is a quick-sand, and it is this, as well as the tremendous sea that beats upon it in heavy weather, that makes it so terribly fatal to vessels that get stranded on it. at low tide a portion of the sand is dry, and hard, and firm, and can be walked on for a distance of about four or five miles; but as the water again flows over any part of it, that part becomes, as the sailors say, "all alive," soft and quick, and ready to suck in anything that lodges upon it. suppose a vessel to run on with a falling tide, where the sand shelves, or is steep, the water leaves the bow and the sand there gets hard; the water still flows under the stern, and the sand there remains soft a longer time; down the stern sinks lower and lower; the vessel soon breaks her back, or works herself deeper and deeper by the stern; as the water rises she fills and works and still sinks deeper in the sand every roll she gives, until at high tide she is, perhaps, completely buried, or only her topmasts are seen above water. other vessels, if the sea is heavy, begin to beat heavily, and soon break up. lifted up on the swell of a huge wave, as it breaks and flies away in surf and foam, the vessel thumps down with all its weight upon the sands, the timbers give and strain, the seams open; she soon ceases, as she fills with water, to rise upon the wave; great gaps are torn from the bulwarks; the decks burst open with the air seeking to escape from the hold, and as the sea rushes over the vessel, each roll she gives wrenches her more and more; the masts fall over the side; her cargo floats and washes away, and speedily, even in a few hours, she is in a torn and shattered condition, completely wrecked and destroyed. the broken hull is full of water and lurches heavily to and fro with each wave, rolls and slightly lifts and works, until it has made a deep bed in the sands in which it is soon completely buried--so that many vessels have run upon the sands in the early night, and scarcely a vestige of them been seen in the morning. by way of illustration, let me tell what happened one dark stormy night some few years back. the harbour steam-tug _aid_ and the life-boat had started from ramsgate early in the day, to try and get to the _northern belle_, a fine american barque, which was ashore not far from kingsgate; but the force of the gale and tide was so tremendous, that they could not make way against it, and were driven back to ramsgate--there to wait until the tide turned, or the wind moderated. about two in the morning, while they were making ready for another attempt to reach the _northern belle_, rockets were fired from one of the goodwin light-vessels, showing that some vessel was in distress on the sands. they hastened at once to afford assistance, and got to the edge of the sands shortly after three in the morning. up and down they cruised, but could see no signs of any vessel. they waited until it was daylight, and then saw the upper portion of the lower mast of a steamer standing out of the water. they made towards it, but found no one was left, and no signs of any wreck floating about to which a human being could cling. they concluded, that almost immediately upon striking, the vessel must have broken up, sunk, and been buried in the quick-sand. poor fellows! poor fellows! a sharp, sudden death: would that the vessel had held together a little longer. away, then, now for the _northern belle_. they had not made much way ahead when the captain of the _aid_ sees a large life-buoy floating near. "ease her," he cries, and the way of the steamer slackens. "god knows but what that life-buoy may be of use to some of us." the helmsman steers for it; a sailor makes a hasty dart at it with a boat-hook, misses it, and starts back appalled from a vision of staring eyes, and matted hair, and wildly tossed arms. they shout to the life-boat crew, and they in turn steer for the buoy; the bowman grasps at it, catches it, but cannot lift it, his cry of horror startles the whole crew, and some spring to his help; they lift the buoy and bring to the surface three dead bodies that are tied to it by ropes round their waists. slowly and carefully, one by one, the crew lift them on board, and lay them out under the sail. the _violet_, passenger steamer, had left ostend about eleven the previous night; at two in the morning she struck on the goodwin sands; a little after three there was no one left on board to answer the signals of the steam-boat that had come to their rescue, and show their position; at seven there was nothing to be seen of the steamer, crew, or passengers, but a portion of one mast, the life-buoy, and the three pale corpses sleeping their long last sleep under the life-boat sail. such are the goodwin sands. it was a storm-ridden november day, the weather was very threatening throughout; it was blowing hard, with occasional squalls from the east-north-east, and a heavy sea running. at high tide the sea broke over the east pier. as the waves beat upon it and dashed over in clouds of foam, the pier looked from the east cliff like a heavy battery of guns in full play. the boatmen had been on the look-out all day, but there had been no signs of their services being required; still, they hung about the pier until long after dark. at last they were straggling home, leaving only those on the pier who had determined to watch during the night, when suddenly some thought that they saw a flash of light. a few seconds of doubt, and the report of the gun decided the matter. at once there was a rush for the life-boat. she was moored in the stream about thirty yards from the pier. in a few minutes they had unmoored her, and got her alongside; her crew was already more than made up; some had put off to her in small boats, others had sprung into her when she came within a few feet of the pier. she was over-manned, and the two last in had to turn out. in the meantime, a rocket had been fired from the light-vessel. many had been on the look-out for it, to decide beyond all doubt, which of the three light-vessels had fired the gun. it proved to have been the north sands head vessel that had signalled. the cork jackets were thrown into the boat, the oars and ropes overhauled, all things seen to be right, and the men in their places and ready for their start in a comparatively few minutes. the crew of the steam-tug _aid_ had not been less active. immediately upon the first signal, her shrill steam-whistle resounded through the harbour, calling on board those of her crew who were on shore, and her steam, which is always up, was rapidly got to full power, and in less than half an hour from the time of the firing of the first gun she was gallantly steaming out of the harbour with the life-boat in tow. as she went out a rocket streamed up from the pier head. it was the answer to the signal of the light vessel, and told that assistance was on the way. off they went, ploughing their way through a heavy cross sea, which frequently swept completely over the boat. the tide was running strongly, and the wind right ahead; it was hard work breasting both sea and wind in the face of such a gale; but they bravely persevered, and gradually made head-way. they steered right for the goodwin, and having approached it, as near as they dare take the steamer, they worked their way through a heavy sea along the edge of the sands, on the look-out for the vessel in distress. at last they make her out, and, as they approach, find two broadstairs luggers riding at anchor outside the sands. the broadstairs men had heard the signal, and the wind and tide being in their favour, they soon ran down to the neighbourhood of the wreck. on making to the vessel, the ramsgate men find her to be a fine-looking brig, almost high and dry upon the sands. her masts and rigging are all right; the moon, which has broken through the clouds, shines upon her clean new copper; and, so far, she seems to have received but little damage. a grand thing for all hands, for owners, underwriters, crew and boatmen, the men think, if they can only get her safely off when the tide rises, and bring her into harbour; a fine vessel and perhaps valuable cargo saved, and a pretty bit of salvage, which will be well earned and nobody should grudge, for the boatmen have to live, as well as to save life. efforts have already been made for the vessel's relief. the _dreadnought_ lugger had brought with her a small twenty-five feet life-boat. the _little dreadnought_, and this boat with five hands, had succeeded in getting alongside the brig. the steamer slips the hawser of the ramsgate boat, and anchors almost abreast of the vessel, with sixty fathom of chain out. there is a heavy rolling sea, but much less than there has been, as the tide has fallen considerably. the life-boat makes in for the brig, carries on through the surf and breakers, and when within forty fathoms of the vessel, lowers the sail, throws the anchor overboard, and veers alongside. the captain and some of the men remain in the boat, to fend her off from the sides of the vessel, for although it is shallow water, the tide is running over the sands like a sluice, and it requires great care to prevent the boat getting her side stove in. the rest of her crew climb on board the brig. her captain had, until then, hoped to get his vessel off, as the tide rose, without assistance, and had refused the aid of the broadstairs men; but now he realizes the danger that his vessel is in, and very gladly accepts the assistance that is offered. one of his crew speaks a little english, and through him the captain employs the crew of the life-boat and the broadstairs men, to get his ship off the sands. chapter ix. the wreck abandoned, and the life-boat despaired of. "alone upon the leaping billows, lo! what fearful image works its way? a ship! shapeless and wild ... her sails dishevell'd, and her massy form disfigured, yet tremendously sublime: prowless and helmless through the waves she rocks, and writhes, as if in agony! like her, who to the last, amid o'erwhelming foes, sinks with a bloody struggle into death,- the vessel combats with the battling waves, then fiercely dives below! the thunders roll her requiem, and whirlwinds howl for joy!" _crabbe._ the boatmen, as soon as they get on board the brig, find that she is in a very perilous position, but have hopes of getting her off. at all events they will try very hard for it. she is a fine new and strongly-built portuguese brig, belonging to lisbon, and bound from newcastle to rio, with coals and iron. her crew consists of the captain, the mate, ten men, and a boy. she is head on to the sand, but the sand does not shelve much, and her keel is pretty even. the wind is still blowing very strongly and right astern. the tide is on the turn, and will flow quickly: there is no time to be lost; the first effort must be to prevent the brig driving further on the sand. with this object in view the boatmen get an anchor out astern as quickly as possible; they rig out tackles on the foreyard, and hoist the bower anchor on deck; they then slew the yard round, and get the anchor as far aft as they can; then shift the tackles to the main yard, and lift the anchor well to the stern; shackle the chain cable on, get it all clear for running out, try the pumps to see that they work; and then wait until the tide makes sufficiently to enable the steamer, which draws six feet of water, to get a little nearer. they hope that the steamer will be able to back close enough to them, to get a rope on board fastened to the flukes of the brig's anchor, and to drag the anchor out, and drop it about one hundred fathoms astern of the vessel. all hands will then go to the windlass, keep a strain upon the cable, and each time the vessel lifts, heave with a will--the steamer, with a hundred and twenty fathoms of nine-inch cable out, towing hard all the time. by these means they expect to be able, gradually, to work the vessel off the sands. but they soon lose all hope of doing this; it is about one o'clock in the morning; the moon has gone down; heavy showers of rain fall; it is pitch dark and very squally; the gale is evidently freshening again; a heavy swell comes up before the wind, and as the tide flows under the brig she begins to work very much, for now the heavy waves roll in over the sand, and she lifts, and falls with shocks that make the masts tremble and the decks gape open. the boatmen begin to fear the worst. the life-boat is alongside, with seven hands in her; she is afloat in the basin that the brig has worked in the sands, and it takes all the efforts of the men on board to prevent her getting under the side of the vessel and being crushed. the wind increases as the tide flows, and the brig works with great violence, now, as she rolls and careens over upon her bilge, she threatens to fall upon, and destroy the life-boat the captain of the boat hails the men on the brig to come on board the boat, and get away from the side of the vessel as fast as they can. the boatmen try to explain the danger to the portuguese, but they cannot understand. hail, after hail, comes from the boat, for every moment increases the peril, but the portuguese captain still refuses to leave his vessel. any moment may be too late; the boatmen are almost ready to try and force the portuguese over the side, but they cannot persuade them to stir; and as they will not desert them, they also wait on; wait on while the ship rolls, and works, and groans, while the seas fly over her, and at any moment she may break up. suddenly a loud sharp crack, like a crashing of thunder, peals through the ship. the boatmen jump on the gunwale, ready to spring for the life-boat, for she may be breaking in half; no, but one of her large timbers has snapt like a pipe-stem, and others will soon follow. the portuguese sailors make a rush to get what things they can on deck; altogether they fill eight sea-chests with their clothes. these are quickly lowered into the life-boat. her captain does not like having her hampered with so much baggage, but cannot refuse the poor fellows, at least, a chance of saving their kit. the surf flies over the brig, and boils up all around her. the life-boat is deluged with spray, and her lights are washed out; the vessel still lifts and thumps and rolls with the force of the sea. time after time the snapping and rending of her breaking timbers are heard; at each heave she wrenches and cracks and groans in all directions--she is breaking up fast. make haste, make haste! for your lives be as quick as you can! the chests are all lowered, the boy is handed into the boat, the portuguese sailors follow, the boatmen spring after them, and the brig is abandoned. we have said that it was about one o'clock in the morning when the squalls came on again, with heavy rain and thick darkness. the steamer had remained at anchor, waiting for the tide to rise, when, with the water deeper, she would be able to get nearer the brig. but as the gale freshens there is a dangerous broken sea where she is riding, and she begins to pitch very heavily. she paddles gently ahead to ease her cable, but it is soon evident to the men on board her, that if they are to get their anchor at all they must make haste about it. they heave it up, and lay to for the life-boat. the sea increases so rapidly that the _dreadnought_ lugger is almost swamped, and has to cut her cable without attempting to save her anchor, and to make with all speed before the gale for ramsgate. the _petrel_ lugger springs her mast, which is fished with great difficulty, and she, too, makes the best of her way to the harbour. the wind continues to increase, the gale is again at its height, and a fearful sea running. wave after wave breaks over the steamer's decks, but she is an excellent boat, strongly built and powerful; and her captain and crew are well used to rough work. head to wind and steaming half power, she holds her own against the wind, and keeps, as far as her crew can judge, in the neighbourhood of the wreck and of the life-boat. as time passes, and the crew of the steamer can see nothing of the boat, they get anxious. the wreck must have been abandoned long before this; has the boat been unable to get away from her? is the boat swamped or stove? and are all lost? they signalize again and again, but in vain; they can obtain no answer. they cruize up and down as near the edge of the sands as they dare, hoping to fall in with the boat. now they make in one direction, and now in another, as in their eagerness and apprehension the roar of the storm shapes itself into cries of distress, or as a darker shadow on the sea leads them into the hope that at last they have found the lost boat. all hands keep steadfastly on the look-out, and get greatly excited; the storm becomes truly terrible; but they forget their own peril and hardships in their great anxiety for the safety of the crew of the life-boat, and of the poor fellows who were on the wreck. their anxiety becomes insupportable, heightened as it is by the horrors of the night. through the thick darkness, the bright light of the goodwin light-vessel shines out like a star. with a faint hope the crew of the steamer wrestle their way through the storm and speak the light-vessel. "have you seen anything of the life-boat?" the captain of the steamer shouts out. "nothing! nothing!" is the answer. it seems to confirm all their fears, and they hasten back again to their old cruising ground--they will not lessen their exertions, or lose any chance of rendering assistance to their comrades. it is still pitch-dark, and the storm rages on--the hours creep by, o how slowly! how they long for the light! all hands still on the watch! and as the first grey light of dawning comes, it is with straining eye-balls they seek to penetrate the twilight, and find some signs of their lost comrades. it is almost broad daylight before they can even find out the place where the wreck was lying. with all speed, but little hope, they make for it; and then indeed their great dread seems realized. the brig is completely broken up, literally torn to pieces. they can see great masses of timber, and tangled rigging, but no signs of life. nearer and nearer they go and wait for the broad daylight; but still nothing is to be seen, but shattered pieces of wreck, moored fast by the matted rigging to the buried remains of the hull, and tossing and heaving in the surf. some of the men fancy they can see fragments of the life-boat heaving about with the other wreckage, but whether it is so or not, the end seems the same, and after one last careful but fruitless look around, to see whether there are any signs of the life-boat elsewhere on the sands, sadly they turn the steamer's head away from the dreary fatal goodwin, and make for the harbour. they grieve for brave comrades tried in many scenes of danger, and think with faint hearts of the melancholy report they have to give, and it is but little consolation to them in the face of so great a loss, to remember that they, at all events, have done all in their power, and that they have nothing to reproach themselves with. to return to the life-boat men; all hands have deserted the brig, and there are now in the life-boat thirteen portuguese sailors, five broadstairs boatmen, and her ordinary crew, consisting of thirteen ramsgate boatmen, altogether thirty-one souls. the small _dreadnought_ life-boat has been swung against the brig by the force of the tide, and is so damaged that no one dares venture in her. the tide is rising fast, the gale blowing as hard as ever, the surf running very high and breaking over the vessel, so that one constant torrent of spray and foam is falling with no light weight, or small volume, upon the life-boat which is under the lee of the brig, and the men have no protection from the falling sheets of spray. the vessel is rolling heavily, she has worked a bed in the sands, which the run of tide has somewhat enlarged, and in this she half floats, rolling from side to side with fearful rapidity and violence. the life-boat is afloat within the circle of the bed; the brig threatens to roll over her. "shove and haul off, quick! shove and haul off," are the orders. some with oars, pushing against the brig, others hauling might and main upon the brig's hawser, they manage to pull the boat two or three yards up towards the boat's anchor, and to get her a little farther off from the side of the brig. now she grounds heavily upon the edge of the basin that has been worked in the sand by the brig. "strain every muscle, men; now, or never! now, or never! for your lives pull!" and pull and strain they did. no! not one inch will the life-boat stir; she falls over on her side, the surf and seas sweep over her, the men cling to the thwarts and gunwale; all but her own crew give up all thoughts of hope; but they know the capabilities of the boat and do not lose heart--crash! the brig heaves, and crushes down upon her bilge; again and again she half lifts upon an even keel and rolls, and lurches from side to side; each time that she falls to leeward, she comes more and more over and nearer to the boat. this is the danger that may well make the stoutest heart quail. the boat is aground--helplessly aground; her crew can see through the darkness of the night the yards and masts of the brig swaying over their heads; now tossing high in the air as the brig rights, and now falling nearer and nearer to them, sweeping down over their heads, swaying and rending in the air, the blocks, and ropes, and torn fragments of sails, flying wildly in all directions. let but one of the swaying yards but hit the boat, she must be crushed and all lost. the men crouch down closer and closer, clinging to the thwarts as the brig falls to them; casting dread glances at the approaching yards; all right once more; another pull at the cable--hard, men, hard; over again comes the brig; stick to it, men, stick to it, my men; crushed or drowned it will be soon over if we cannot move the boat; another pull, all together; again, and again, they make desperate efforts to stir the boat, but she will not move one inch; they must wait, and if needs be, wait their doom; and as they wait the danger each moment increases. it is a fearful time of suspense, this waiting aground on the dread goodwin, in the darkness and wildness of the storm, half dead with cold and the ceaseless rush of surf over them, and watching in the shadowy darkness the swaying masts of the rolling brig, swinging nearer and nearer, and how will this question of life and death be decided? which will happen first? will the tide flow sufficiently to float them, or will the brig crush them with her masts and yards before they can get beyond her reach. the men can do nothing more in the dark wild night and terrible danger; each minute seems an hour; they almost forget to try and protect themselves from the wind and spray, and they watch the brig as if spellbound, as she rolls nearer and nearer; each moment the position gets more desperate. any one hit? as the flying blocks hanging from the yard-arms rattle over the heads of the men in the boat. no! but a few feet nearer and we should all have been crushed--a turn or two more and we shall be finished. there is a stir among the men; the moment seems come; they prepare for the last struggle. some are getting ready to spring for the flying rigging of the brig, as it sways over their heads, hoping thus to get on board the wreck if the life-boat is crushed up. "stick to the boat, men! stick to the boat, men, it's our only chance," the coxswain cries out, "the brig must soon go to pieces, while we may yet get clear; stick to the boat!" and the brig, which had quivered while lying on her side as if coming bodily over, while the dark yards hovered over the crouching men, lifted again, and once more the men breathe with a sigh of relief; for that time they quite expected the boat to be crushed and pinned where she lay. at this moment the boat trembles beneath them, lifts a little on the swell of the tide that is beginning to reach her, and grounds again. it is like a word of life to the men, and instantly all are on the alert, they get all their strength on the hawser, and as the boat lifts again, and comes a little more on an even keel, they draw her a yard or two nearer to her anchor, but not any farther from the brig, and over again the brig slowly rolls; again and again they make desperate efforts to get beyond the reach of her dark side, and swinging yards and masts, but it is long before they can do so: at last they succeed as the water flows still more, and now they ride to their anchor a few yards beyond the reach of the brig, which they watch break up, and listen to the groaning and rending of her timbers, and the flapping of her torn sail and tangled rigging. both the wind and tide are setting with all their force right upon the sands, and the captain of the boat sees what is before them; where they are now at anchor will soon be one wild rage of broken sea. to get away from the sand in the face of the fierce gale and tide is impossible; and so there is no alternative, they must beat right across the sands, and this in the wild fearful gale, and terrible sea, and pitch dark night, and what the danger of this is, only those who know the goodwin sands, and the dread seas that sweep over them, can at all imagine. they ride at anchor for some time, waiting for the tide to rise sufficiently for them to get over the sands. they see the lights of the steamer shining in the distance, outside the broken and shallow water; but there is no hope of assistance from her: their lanterns are washed out, they cannot signalize; and if they could, the steamer could not approach them. the sea is breaking furiously over them. time after time the boat fills as the broken waves wash clean over her, but instantly she empties herself again, and rises to her water-line. the gale sweeps by more fiercely than ever. the men are nearly washed out of the boat, and worse still, the anchor begins to drag. the tide has made a little, and they are being driven each moment nearer to the wreck; there may be water enough to take them clear; at all events, there is no help for it, they must risk it. "hoist the foresail; stand by to cut the cable. all clear."--"ay, ay!"--"away then." and the boat quickly heads round, and then, under the power of the gale and tide, leaps forward, flies along; but only for a few yards, when, with a tremendous jerk, she grounds upon the sands. the crew look up, and their hearts almost fail them, as they find that they are again within reach of the brig. her top-gallant masts are swaying about, her yards swing within a few feet of them, her sails which have blown loose and are in ribbons, beat and flap like thunder over their heads. their position seems worse than ever; but they are not this time kept long in suspense. a huge breaker comes foaming along; its white crest gleams out in the darkness high above them, a moment's warning, it breaks over them and swamps them, but all are clinging might and main to the boat. another breaker comes streaming along; it swamps them again in passing, but now the volume of the wave seizes the boat, up it seems to swing it in its mighty arms, and to bodily hurl it forward; and then the boat crashes down on the sands as the wave breaks, and grounds them with a shock that would have torn every man out of her, if they had not been holding on. but one great peril is passed; the mighty swing of the huge waves has carried them yards forward, and they are clear of the wreck; but at that moment they are threatened with another danger almost as terrible. the small _dreadnought_ life-boat has been in tow all this time; it has not been wise to have her in tow, but she belongs to the broadstairs boatmen, and neither they nor the ramsgate boatmen like to abandon her. as the ramsgate boat now grounds, the smaller boat comes bow on to her, sweeps round, and gets under her side; the two boats roll and crash together; each roll the larger one gives, each lift of the sea, she comes heavily down on the other boat; the crash and crack of timbers are heard; which boat is it that is breaking up? both, if this continues, must be very speedily destroyed. some of the men get out the oars and boat-hooks, and push for their very lives, thrusting and striving their utmost to free the _dreadnought_, which is so dangerously thumping and crashing under the quarter of the larger boat. it is a terrible struggle in that boiling sea, with the surf breaking over them. but all their efforts seem in vain, the boats still crash and roll together; one of them is breaking up fast. "oars in," shouts the coxswain; "over the side half-a-dozen of you--take your feet to her;" and some of the brave fellows spring over, clinging to the rail of the deck of the high air-boxes that are at the bow and stern of the ramsgate life-boat. again and again, all together, a fierce struggle, but without success; a big wave comes rolling on, it washes over them, but as the larger boat lifts, the men blindly thrust out with their feet, and the _dreadnought_ is pushed clear. the men scramble, or are dragged back into the ramsgate boat; the tow-rope is cut, and the _dreadnought_, almost a wreck, is swept away by the tide, and is lost in the darkness, while, most mercifully, the ramsgate boat still remains uninjured. a third time they are providentially saved from what seemed almost like certain death; and yet they have only commenced the beginning of their troubles, for is there not before them the long range of sands, with the broken fierce waves and raging surf, and many a fragment of wreck, like sunken rocks studded here and there, upon any one of which, if they strike, it must be death to them all? the boat is still aground upon the ridge of sand. she lifts, and is swept round, and grounds again broadside to the sea, which makes a clean breach over her. the portuguese are all clinging together under the lee of the foresail, and there is no getting them to move. the crew are holding on where they can; sometimes buried in the water, often with only their heads out. the captain is standing up in the stern, holding on by the mizen-mast; sometimes he can see nothing of the men as the surf sweeps over them. he orders the chests to be thrown overboard, but most of them are already washed away; the rest are unlashed from their fastenings, and lifted as the men can get at them, and the next wave carries them away. heavy masses of cloud darken the sky; the rain falls in torrents; it is bitterly cold; the men can do nothing but hold on; the tide rises gradually; suddenly the boat lifts again; it is caught by the driving sea, and is flung forward. there is no keeping her straight, the water is too broken; her stern frees itself before the bow, and round she swings; her bow lifts a little; onward she goes a few yards, and grounds again by the stern; round sweeps the bow, and with another jerk she comes broadside on the sands again, lurching over on her side, with the terrible surf making a clean sweep over the waist. it is a struggle for the men to get their breath, the spray beats over them in such clouds. this happens time after time. the captain calls the men aft, that the boat may be lightened in the bow, and thus be more likely to keep straight. most of the boatmen come to the stern, but the portuguese will not move, and even some of the boatmen are so exhausted with the violent exertions they have made, and by the beating of the waves, that they are almost unconscious, and only able to cling to the gunwale and thwarts of the boat with an iron, nervous grasp, and are thus just able to save themselves from being washed out of her. as the coxswain notices their exhausted state, he expects each time as the big waves wash over them to see some of them leave go their hold and be carried away; and although he makes as light of it as he can, and tries to cheer them up, he himself has very small hope of ever seeing land again. the sands on the sea shore, if there has been any surf, appear at low tide uneven with the ridges or ripples the waves have left on them. on the goodwins, where the force of the sea is in every way multiplied, and the waves break and the tide rushes with tenfold power, the little sand ripples of the smoother shore become ridges of two or three feet high. it is on these ridges that the life-boat so continually grounds. as the tide rises she is swept from one to the other by the long sweeping waves; she is swung round and round in the swirl of the cross-seas and rapid tide, thumping and jerking heavily each time that she strands. all this is in the midst of darkness, of bitter cold, and of a raging wind, surf, and sea, until the hardship and peril are almost too much to be borne, and some of the men feel dying in the boat. one old boatman afterwards thus described his feelings. "well, sir, perhaps my friends were right when they said i hadn't ought to have gone out--that i was too old for that sort of work"--he was then about sixty years of age--"but, you see, when there is life to be saved, it makes one feel young again; and i've always felt i have had a call to save life when i could; and i wasn't going to hang back then; and i stood it better than some of them after all. i did my work on board the brig, and when she was so near falling over us, and when the _dreadnought_ life-boat seemed knocking our bottom out, i got on as well as any of them; but when we got to beating, and grubbing over the sands, swinging round and round, and grounding every few yards with a jerk that bruised us sadly, and almost tore our arms out from the sockets--no sooner washed off one ridge, and beginning to hope that the boat was clear, than she thumped upon another harder than ever, and all the time the wash of the surf nearly carrying us out of the boat--it was truly almost too much for any man to stand. there was a young fellow holding on next to me; i saw his head begin to drop, and that he was getting faint, and going to give over; and when the boat filled with water, and the waves went over his head, he scarcely cared to struggle free. i tried to cheer him a bit, and keep his spirits up. he just clung to the thwart like a drowning man. poor fellow, he never did a day's work after that night, and died in a few months. "well, i couldn't do anything with him, and i thought that it didn't matter much, for i felt it must soon all be over; that it couldn't be long before the boat would be knocked to pieces. so i took my life-belt off, that i might have it over all the quicker; for i knew that there would be no chance whatever of life if the boat once went, and i would have it over all the quicker, for i didn't want to be beating about those sands alive or dead longer than i could help; the sooner i went to the bottom, the better, i thought. when once all hope of life was over--and that time seemed close upon us every moment--some of us kept shouting, just cheering ourselves and one another up, as well as we could; but i had to give that up, and i remember hearing the captain crying out, 'we will see ramsgate yet again, my men, if we steer clear of old wrecks,' and then i heard the portuguese lad crying, and i remember that i began to think that it was a terrible dream, and pinched myself to see if i was really awake; and i began to feel very strange and insensible. i didn't feel afraid of death, for, you see, i hadn't left it to such times as that to prepare to meet my god. and if ever i spent hours in prayer, be sure i spent them in prayer that night. and i just seemed going off in a kind of dead faint, and felt very dream-like, and as if i couldn't hold on any longer; and as i felt this i thought, in a feeble sort of way, of my friends ashore, and bid them good-bye like, for i knew that i should be soon washed out of the boat, when i looked up, and the surf was curling up both sides of the boat, and i was going to throw myself down on the thwart, that the seas might beat upon my back, and i should never have lifted it up again, when i saw a bright star. the clouds had broken a little, and there was that blessed beautiful star shining out. yes, truly it was a blessed beautiful star to me; as it caught my eye it seemed, in my weak state, to lay a strange hold upon me; to gather all my attention, and to call me back to life again. and i began to have a little thought about seeing my home again, and that i wasn't going to be called away just yet. and i straightened myself up a little, and laid a firmer hold upon the boat, and lifted my head to look for the star after each time the seas beat over us, and i kept my eye upon it whenever i could; and i cannot explain how it was, but looking for and watching that star kept me up, and when i got ashore, i seemed at first not much worse than the best of them. but for seven whole days after that i lost my speech, and lay like a log upon my bed; and i was ill a long time--indeed, have never been right since, and i suppose at my age i never shall get over it. but what is more, i believe something of the same sort may be said of most of those that were in the boat that night. one poor young fellow is dead, another has been subject to fits ever since, and not any of us quite the men we were before, and no wonder when you think what we passed through. "i cannot describe it, and you cannot, neither can any one else; but when you say you've beat and thumped over those sands, almost yard by yard, in a fearful storm on a winter's night, and live to tell the tale, why it seems to me about the next thing to saying that you've been dead, and brought to life again." the coxswain of the life-boat, brave isaac jarman, was chosen for that position for his fortitude, skill, and daring, and well did he sustain his character that night, never for one moment losing his presence of mind, and doing his utmost to cheer the men up. the crew consisted of hardy, daring fellows, ready to face any danger, to go out in any storm, and to do battle with the wildest seas; but the horrors of that night were almost too much for the most iron nerves. the fierce freezing wind, the almost pitch darkness, the terrible surf, and beating waves, and the men unable to do anything for their safety; the boat driven, almost hurled, by the force of the waves from sand ridge to sand ridge, and apparently breaking up beneath them each time she lifted on the surf and crushed down again upon the sands, besides the danger of her getting foul of any old wrecks--how all this was lived through seemed miraculous. time after time there was a cry of "now she breaks up! she can't stand this! all over at last!" another such thump, and she is done for, and then the boat would writhe, almost on her beam ends, while the waves beat over, until she was again lifted and thrown forward to crash down and ground again; and all this lasted for about two hours, as almost yard by yard they beat from ridge to ridge over the sands. suddenly the swinging and beating of the boat cease; she is in a very heavy sea, but she answers her helm and keeps her head straight. at last they have got over the sands and into deep water; the danger is passed, and they are saved. with new hopes comes new life. some can scarcely realize their comparative safety, and still keep their firm hold upon the boat, expecting each second another terrible lurch and jerk upon the sands, and the heavy rush and wash of the seas. no: that is all over, and the boat, in spite of her tremendous knocking about, is sound, and sails buoyantly and well. the crew quickly get further sail upon her, and she makes way before the gale to the westward. the portuguese sailors lift their heads. they have been clinging together and to the boat, crouching down under the lee of the foresail during the time of beating over the sands; they notice the stir among the boatmen, and that the terrible jerking and thumping of the boat and the rush of sea over her have ceased; and they also learn that the worst is passed, and that the danger is at an end. long since did they despair of life; and their surprise and joy now know no bounds. bravely on goes the life-boat, making for the westward. the portuguese are very busy in earnest consultation. the poor fellows have lost their kit, and only possess the things they have on, and a few pounds that they have with them. soon it becomes evident what the consultation has been about. "coxswain!" one of the boatmen cries out, "they want to give us all their money!" "yes! yes!" said the interpreter, in broken english, "you have saved our lives! thank you! thank you! but all we have is yours; it is not much, but you take it between you;" and he held out the money. it was about 17_l._ "i, for one, won't touch any of it," said the coxswain of the boat. "nor i!" "nor i!" others added; "put your money up." the brave fellows will not take a farthing from brother sailors, whom they know to be poor, much like themselves; and in a few words they make them understand this, and how glad they are to have saved them. the life-boat makes good way, and soon runs across the sands through the trinity swatch way, and, without further adventure, she reaches the harbour about five o'clock in the morning. the crew of the brig are placed under the care of the portuguese consul, and the boatmen go to their homes, to feel for many a long day the effects of the fatigues and perils of that terrible night. during all this time the steamer has been cruising up and down the edge of the sands, vainly searching for any trace of the life-boat; and soon after daylight she made, as has been already described, for the harbour. her captain and crew are half broken-hearted, and scarcely know how they shall be able to tell the tale of the terrible calamity that seems so certainly to have happened. suddenly, as the mouth of the harbour opens to them, they see the life-boat. they stare with amazement, and can scarcely believe their eyes. "astonished," said the captain of the steamer, describing his feelings, "that i was; never so much so in my life, as when i stood looking at that boat. i could have shouted and cried for very wonder and joy; you might have knocked me down with a straw." thus the captain of the steamer described his feelings. it was the same with all the crew; and as the steamer shot round the pier and heard that all were saved, and the life-boatmen all right, the good news seemed to more than repay them for the dangers and anxieties of the night. thus did the crew of the gallant life-boat and of the steamer help to earn that night the noble reputation that belongs to our boatmen and sailors at large--testimony to which was given, on one occasion, by a foreign captain, who said, "ah! we may always know whether it is upon the english coast that we are wrecked, by the efforts that are made for our rescue." chapter x. signals of distress--out in the storm. "and the coming wind did roar more loud, and the sails did sigh like sedge; and the rain poured down from one black cloud, the moon was at its edge. the thick black cloud was cleft, and still the moon was at its side; like water shot from some high crag, the lightning fell with never a jag, a river steep and wide." _coleridge._ wild weather on land! wild weather at sea! fear and trembling, and earnest prayers, in many a quiet home, for loved ones at sea, who must be within reach of the gale that hurries so fiercely by. how impressive it is to lie awake listening to the storm--to hear the rush of the wind, now moaning in the chimney, now thundering at the windows against which the rain beats and hurtles; to fancy or to feel that the house trembles shaken in the rude power of the blast, or, if near the sea-shore, to hear the waves breaking on the beach, a half-suppressed tumultuous uproar, like the faintly heard riot of a distant angry mob. to get farther to sea in one's thoughts, and to picture a noble ship with close-reefed topsails running before the gale, or beating away from the dread neighbourhood of dangerous sands or coast, while the pilot, anxious and watchful, and the crew, eager and alert, peer through the darkness to catch the welcome guidance of some bright warning light, or are on the watch to detect the fainter light of some ship that is steering her course perilously near; the passengers all the time wistful and anxious, asking many questions, and receiving cheering answers, but given with that unreality of tone that makes the hearer fear the sound, more than he can believe the sense; or to imagine a vessel at anchor, the cables swinging out at their full length, the sails all closely furled, but the gale beating against the hull, and masts, and yards, with a power that threatens to sweep the ship and her living freight to a speedy destruction; to picture the ship lifting, and pitching, and surging, in a cloud of spray, the hungry waves leaping at it, as if to devour it before its time, the anchors yielding foot by foot, or the cable giving, and the hungry sands waiting in a terrible rage of foam and sea under the lee. in the morning to look from tall cliffs upon a golden beach, upon the fretting surf that lines it, upon the sea bright with sunshine, smooth browed, but like a great giant rolling his huge limbs in uneasy sleep; quick with great billows rising and falling in restless heavy long lines of waves. then to look at the distant goodwin sands, and to watch the white leaping surf, fangs in the jaws of death, still gnashing and mumbling after their midnight meal, in which they ravened perhaps on a goodly ship, and mangled many brave sailors, and weeping women and trembling wondering children; unless their victims were snatched from their grasp by the brave storm warriors who rush into their midst in the very fiercest of their strife, and wrestle with them for their prey. such pictures are often suggested by the midnight gale, and such after-scenes are witnessed in the morning's calm at ramsgate, as at many another spot on the bold coast of our sea-girt island home, where each howling wind that rushes on breathes the trumpet-blast that calls to the struggle of life and death. it was a tempestuous wintry day early in december, a few years ago, when the scenes occurred which the following will be an attempt to describe: during the whole of the day the wind has been blowing hard from the west-north-west. the weather has been very unsettled for some little time, squally with the cloud-scud low, and swiftly flying past; now the weather is becoming worse, and the blasts are more frequent and more fierce, rapidly growing into a heavy gale. the fitzroy's signal hangs ominously from the flag-staff, giving a warning of the dangerous winds which may be expected. the downs anchorage is crowded with shipping, so much so, that the lights of the vessels anchored there throw a glare upon the darkness of the night, such as is shed by the lights of a populous town. every now and then a vessel leaves the fleet, and, running before the gale, seeks surer refuge; or perhaps a homeward-bound ship swiftly threads her way through the crowd of vessels, the crew half rejoicing in the gale, which at every blast bears them nearer home. on ramsgate pier rumours of disasters at sea, bring the watchful lookers on together in anxious gossip; many partially disabled vessels have already found refuge in the harbour, and now a schooner is brought in by some broadstairs boatmen. when they boarded her in answer to her signals of distress, they found that the mate with a woman and child alone remained on board. the schooner had been in collision during the previous night, and whether the rest of her crew had escaped to the other vessel, or had been lost overboard, was left a matter of dread uncertainty. as it is a stirring sight to see the vessels making through the heavy seas for the harbour, so it is an exciting, and withal a gallant, sight to watch the luggers heavily freighted with anchors and chains, to supply vessels that have slipped their cables, bearing away bravely in all the rush of the storm, upon their errands of daring enterprise. the afternoon creeps on; it is half-past three, a puff of smoke is seen coming from the gull light-ship, but the wind is too strong, and in the wrong direction, for the report of the gun to be heard. the signal is, however, at once accepted, and soon the steamer and the life-boat are away in the storm. they make for the light-vessel to learn for what, and in which direction their services are required. a squall of thick rain hides the downs and the south end of the goodwin sands from view. suddenly the squall clears away, passing rapidly to windward, and now from the pier and cliff, although not yet from the lower level of the steamer's deck, or from the life-boat, the vessel that is in danger is seen. a large light schooner has driven from her anchorage, and is now dragging perilously near the goodwin sands. she is too near, with the wind as it is, to have any chance of escaping by slipping her cable and sailing clear of the sands; she is driving fast, and the large flag, that she has hoisted as a signal of distress, can be very distinctly seen from the cliff. the watchers on shore, by taking her bearings, see how rapidly she is dragging her anchors and nearing her doom; and the nature of the tremendous sea she is in is also very evident. she is light, buoyant, and lifts to every wave; she looks like a gallant charger taking a succession of desperate leaps, as first her bow is thrown high in the air, and she then rides for a moment high upon the top of the wave, and then again her stern is thrown high, and her bow is almost buried as the huge short wave passes under her. repeatedly those who are watching her from the shore, have their fears aroused that her straining cables have at last parted, and that she is in full career for the waiting deadly sands. it is an alarming sight. the lookers-on from the cliff only take their eyes off her to look occasionally at the steamer and life-boat as they are making their way to her rescue. the steamer rolls and plunges on--nothing daunted, nothing disturbed, by all the buffeting she gets; the life-boat rises like a cork to every wave, and plunges through the crests as she feels the drag of the steamer, while the foam spreads out on either side like a fan, and the scud and spray fly over her in a cloud. the steamer and life-boat make their way to the gull lightship, where they learn that a schooner has been seen in distress, bearing south-south-west, supposed to be on the south sand head. on through the giant seas and driving surf, in the very teeth of the gale, they make gallant way, and are about to take up a position from which the life-boat can dash in through the broken water to the rescue of the crew. a large deal lugger is beating up to windward from the neighbourhood of the sands, they speak her, and learn that she has rescued the crew of the schooner. the lugger, one of the finest of all the noble boats that sail from deal beach, had, some time before the schooner got into such a dangerous position, sheered alongside her, at no slight risk, and as she shot by, the crew had jumped into her, forgetting in their hurry and excitement the flag of distress which they had left flying high, pleading still, and not in vain, for help that was no longer needed. nothing can be done for the schooner; driving fast, she soon begins to thump on the sands; darkness settles down upon her, the fierce waves have her for their prey, and in the morning not one remaining fragment of her is to be seen; she has been torn utterly to pieces, and what the tide has not swept away, the sands have completely buried. the steamer and life-boat, when they leave the schooner to her fate, make for a barque, which, with main and mizen masts cut away, seems, although she is in great danger, to have a chance of weathering the storm. the wind is too heavy, and the tide too strong, for the steamer to be able to tow her into a safer position; her crew have already made their escape, and she is left in turn, but not, as it proves, to meet the fate of the schooner, for she successfully rides out the gale. a further cruise round the sands, to see if their services are required by any distressed vessel, and they make again for ramsgate, which they reach about half-past six. the steamer and life-boat are moored, ready for any fresh call which may be made for their services, the probability of which seems very great, and all the men remain on the alert. in such a storm anxious watchers are on the look-out at all the stations round the coast. boatmen under the protection of boat-houses, or boats, or grouped together at friendly corners, are keeping a steadfast watch upon the seas. one or two every now and then take a few strides into the open for a wider range of view, and then back again to cover. the coastguard-men, sheltered in nooks of the cliff, or behind rocks, or breasting the storm on the drear sands as they walk their solitary beat, peer out into the darkness watching for those signals from the sea--the gun flash, or the gleam of the rocket, which while they speak hope to the imperilled, tell to those on shore of lives in danger--of those who must speedily be rescued, or must die. or the watchers listen for the dull throb of the signal gun, the sign of wild warfare, and struggles for life mid the charges and conflicts of breaking waves and dashing seas, a signal that the waiting storm warriors instantly accept, and rush into the contest to snatch their dying brethren from the arms of the enemy that is too strong for them. sometimes the telegraph wires speed the message of distress along the coast, as happened one stormy new year's eve, when a ship was seen off deal beach in almost a blaze of light, burning tar-barrels, and firing rockets to tell of her distress; an intervening fog seemed to prevent the look-out on board the light-vessel seeing her, and some boatmen on deal beach, who could not possibly get their boats off the sands in the face of the strong gale blowing straight on shore, put their halfpence together to pay for a telegraph message--the messages were dearer then than they are now--and sent their swiftest runner to telegraph to ramsgate; and after all, there was some unfortunate mistake, and fatal delay, and a telegram at last sent for further particulars, which was answered with a demand for urgent speed, and away then flew steamer and life-boat, and they neared the wreck, and rounded to, to send the life-boat in, when some of the boatmen thought they heard an agonising shriek, and others thought it was only the wail of the storm; but they looked, and the great green seas swept over the wreck, turned her right over, and she was seen no more, and twenty-eight lives went to their account. a piteous new year's tale it was that was told next morning; a boat's crew got away from the ship soon after she struck, and battling through the broken seas, made way before the wind to dover, and they told the story, that the lost vessel had picked up a shipwrecked crew, who were thus a second time wrecked, and at the second time lost; and that more of the crew would have come away in the boat, and in other boats, but it was a great risk, and there was a deal pilot on board who pointed out the danger; and said that the ramsgate life-boat was certain to be out to their rescue, they might be sure of her; and so they stayed and lighted tar-barrel after tar-barrel, and fired rocket after rocket; and when the sea washed their signal fires out, and swept the decks, they took to the rigging, and waited for the life-boat; and as they waited the poor deal pilot could watch the light on the beach, by the house where slept his wife and eight children, who were to call him husband--father--no more. the life-boat men scarcely liked to speak of the agony and disappointment it was to them to be thus just too late; no fault of theirs, poor fellows; they would, if they could, have sooner swum to the wreck, if that were of any use, than have been too late to save the poor perishing lives. there was an official inquiry into the matter made by the authorities in london, and it was decided that no one was to blame; that it was one of those unfortunate occurrences which never would have happened, like many others, if people could only be as wise before an event as they are after, and which no one could regret more than those who were in any way the unfortunate, and of course most unintentional, agents of bringing it about. and now to proceed with the adventures of the life-boat on the night in question. about a quarter past eight in the evening, the harbour-master of ramsgate receives a telegram. it tells its tale in its own short way, and the harbour-master learns that round the stormy north foreland, some miles to westward of margate, the _prince's_ light-ship is firing guns and rockets, and that the _tongue_ light-ship is repeating the signals. the vigilant coastguard-man who had first noticed the signals hurried to margate with the tidings; but there the fine life-boats are powerless to help. the wind is blowing a hurricane from west-north-west, and drives such a tremendous sea upon the shore that no boat whatever could possibly get off and work its way out to sea; it would merely be rolled back upon the beach in the attempt. the coastguard at margate at once saw how impossible it would be to render the required aid from margate, and hastened to send a telegram to ramsgate calling for help. the harbour-master there receives it, and now hurried action at once takes the place of wistful anxious waiting. for hours the steamer and life-boat have quietly rested in the sheltered harbour, lifting gently to the small waves that have been playing against their sides. the men for hours have been gazing out into the darkness, watching for signals, and listening to the roar of the gale, and to the murmur and tumult of the tumbling waves. the expected challenge comes. ready! all ready! is the answer, and they rush to action at once, without waiting for one moment to consider whether a challenge to such strife should, or should not, be accepted. they know the hardships and peril of the work upon which they are called; but they know the other side of the question also; and it would make many comparatively useless lives as noble as are the lives of many of these poor boatmen, if all would only consider the result of good work, as well as the labour, and forget the trouble, or personal hardships of the labour, in the keen hope to realize the desired result. and these boatmen, as they have been crouching down under shelter of the pier wall, watching the progress of the storm, have had many a memory, and many a vision, to occupy their thoughts and stir their anxious courage; memories of brave fellows plucked from the very grasp of death; and visions of that which they well know how to picture; brother sailors perhaps clinging to the spars of a shattered wreck, while the wild waves leap around and only a few fragments of creaking yielding timber shield the poor men from their fury, and from death. they know the power of the waves to tear the strongest ships to pieces in a few hours, and are ready, all ready, for any stern deadly wrestle with the fury of the storm, for the rescue of those who stand in such dread need of help. the order is given, and the usual rush to the life-boat takes place. the regular ramsgate boatmen have not, this time, the race for the boat all to themselves; the _adder_ revenue-cutter is in the harbour, and two of her men get into the life-boat, and with ten boatmen and the coxswain, the crew is made up. the men on board the steam-tug _aid_ are prompt as usual, and within half-an-hour from the giving of the order the steamer and life-boat are out to the rescue, again fighting their way through broken seas, and breasting the full fury of the gale. imagine the picture that was shrouded in the thick darkness of that wild night. the steamer is strong and powerfully built, and has never failed in any of her struggles with the storm, but has in every part worked true and well; and this when failure in crank, rod, or rivet, might have been death to many lives. seek to imagine this brave little steamer at her perilous work. thrown up and down like a plaything by the mighty sea, now half buried in the wash of surf, or poised for a moment on the broad crest of a huge wave, and again shooting bows under into the trough, rolling and pitching and staggering in the storm, but still battling on true to her purpose. still onward and onward she goes; the beat of the paddles, the roar of the steam-pipe, the throb of the engines, mingling with the hoarse blast of the gale, and the lash and hiss of the surf and fleeting spray; while to the watchers on shore, her light flitting here and there as she rolls and tosses, alone tell of her progress. the life-boat is almost burrowing her way through the spray and foam. each man bends low on his seat, and holds fast by thwart or gunwale. the wind has changed, and the boat is being towed in the face of the gale and sea, and does not ride over the waves as easily as she would if she were under canvas only, but is dragged on and on, plunging through the crests of the seas. "it was just like as if a fire-engine was playing upon my back, not in a steady stream, but with a great burst of water at every pump," said one of the men whose station was in the bow. it is a wild sea; the waves and surf that break against the bows of the big ships that are at anchor in the downs send their spray flying high, almost to the topmast heads; so it may well be imagined how the heavy seas nearly smother the steamer and life-boat as they breast all their force, heading against the gale. now the waves rush over the bow, and again a cross wave catches the side of the boat, throws her almost on her side, sweeps bodily over her; while she pitches and rolls with a motion quick as that of a plunging horse. but the men know her well, and trust her thoroughly; and with a firm hold and stout hearts they resolutely journey onwards. now, the wind veers a little, and the high cliffs somewhat break its force, and the men feel less the power of the gale; but still the wind is almost directly ahead, and the ebb tide is running against them with great strength. every yard of advance is won by a struggle with the seas, as the steamer _aid_ pants and beats her way onward. but still it is won, and all hands are content. at last they get round the north foreland, and begin to feel that they are nearing the scene of action. the rain ceases, and the clouds of flying scud lift a little. it is still pitch dark, but free from mist and rain--clear dark, as they call it. the men see the margate pier, and the town lights, which shine out steadily and clearly; and it seems to them a strange contrast as they look from their rough post of danger, action, and hardship, upon the town resting in quiet peace, unconscious of the storm. they make for the _tongue_ light-ship, which is stationed about nine miles from margate. every five minutes the darkness of the horizon is broken by the flash of a rocket which is thrown up by the light-ship. it goes flying up against the gale, and bursting, gives a moment's gleam as its stars caught by the fierce wind, pass away, floating in a short stream of light to leeward. the steamer's crew make for the light-ship, looking anxiously the while in all directions for any signal which may guide them more directly to the vessel in distress; but they see none, and so speed on towards the light-ship. as the steamer passes her on the lee side, as slowly and as near as possible, the coxswain is told that signals had been seen from the high part of the shingle sand bank, supposed to be from a large vessel in distress. the life-boat in turn sheers near the light-vessel in passing, and hears the same report. again they urge their way, struggling onward in the gale; but they can see no sign of a vessel, and no vestige of a wreck. perilous and anxious is the work as they feel their way along the very edge of the dangerous sands; the roar of the gale is too great for any cries of distress to be heard. the hull of the vessel may be overrun with the seas, and the crew, clinging to the masts or rigging, be utterly unable to give any signals by firing guns or rockets, or by showing lights; and the night is so dark, that from the life-boat they can only see a few yards ahead. the men are most anxiously on the look-out; each time that the boat rises high upon a sea, they try their utmost to peer through the darkness by which they are surrounded. no! the breakers gleam white, and the steamer's light is tossing to and fro with every pitch and roll of the vessel; but nothing more can they make out. and the anxiety of the men, both on board the steamer and the life-boat, becomes greater and greater; they do not like to leave the neighbourhood of the sands without thoroughly examining it, fearing that in doing so they may leave behind them, to a despair rendered more terrible, and to a death rendered more bitter by the false hopes that had been excited, some poor fellows clinging desperately to a few fragments of trembling wreck. but still they can see nothing and can hear nothing of either wreck or crew; either the vessel must have gone utterly to pieces, or the men on board the _tongue_ light-ship have been mistaken in the position of the signals they have seen. as the men are listening intensely for the faintest signal or cry of distress, they fancy that they hear the booming of a distant gun, fired at intervals. now in a lull in the storm they hear it more distinctly, and see in the far distance the flashing of a rocket-light. watching and listening still, they soon discover that the _prince's_ and _girdler_ light-ships are at the same time repeating signals of distress. they must give up their present search, and hasten to the rescue where such urgent demands are being made for their help. their consolation is, that at all events they can do nothing more in the utter darkness in searching for the wreck, which they have been already so long looking for in vain; and before daylight, or soon after, they can probably be back to resume their search after having, as they hope, done good work in the interval. at all events, they must be off; and off they go, leaving, as it proved, a crew of storm-beaten men in as desperate a position as it was well possible for men to be. they think it best to make for the _prince's_ light-ship first, and on arriving there they are told that a large ship has been seen making signals. they think that she is on the girdler sands, but she may be on the shingles. away again in the darkness they speed on their noble mission. at last they plainly discern a light on the south part of the shingles; they make for it, but only to be again disappointed. it is the light of the steam tug _friend of all nations_, which is lying-to under the lee of the shingles to be protected from the rush of the seas. but here they are somewhat repaid for their efforts, for they learn beyond doubt that the vessel in distress is a large ship on the girdler sands; and more than this, that another large ship, disabled and in great distress, had been seen driving down the deeps, a very narrow channel between the shingle and the long sand. it must have been signals from this latter vessel which had been seen by the men on board the _tongue_ light-ship. they are unwilling to pass on their way to the girdler without making an effort to find the vessel which had been seen in such great distress, and which, in every probability, had gone ashore somewhere in the neighbourhood. so they make a cruise in the direction of the deeps. they search narrowly, but in vain, and at last hurry away as the girdler light-ship still continues to fire heavy guns. at last their long, persevering, and hazardous search is crowned with success. upon nearing the girdler light-ship, they see on the sands the flare of blazing tar-barrels; they know these must be the signals made by the vessel that has run on the sands. at once every man forgets all about his many hours of exposure to wet, cold, and exertion, and wakens up to full strength and vigour; and all begin at once to make preparations for going into the rescue. the steamer is obliged to steer clear of the broken water, not only because of the danger of grounding, but also because of the wildness of the seas as they break upon the sands, as their surf would be quite sufficient to sweep her decks and swamp her. she skirts the breakers and tows the life-boat well to windward. the men on board the boat watch their opportunity; and as soon as they find themselves in the right position for reaching the wreck, they cast off the tow-rope, and the wind and sea at once swing the boat's head round, and she plunges into the midst of the broken water which is rushing over the sands. it is a desperate strife of waters, and into the very thick of the fray, straight as an arrow, the boat rushes. the strength of the gale is so great, the men only dare to hoist a close-reefed foresail; but swiftly it bears the boat along. at times the boat is so overrun with broken water and surf that the men can scarcely breathe. they, however, cling resolutely to the boat, and again and again she shakes herself free of water, and the men straighten themselves for a moment, draw a few long breaths, when again they meet a tangle of broken waves. down into the trough of the troubled seas the boat plunges, and over her and her crew the waves again rush in all directions; and thus she undauntedly works her way to the wreck. chapter xi. the emigrant ship. "borne upon the ocean's foam, far from native land and home, midnight's curtain, dense with wrath, brooding o'er our venturous path. while the mountain wave is rolling, and the ship's bell faintly tolling: saviour! on the boisterous sea, bid us rest secure in thee." _l. h. sigourney._ it is one o'clock in the morning; the moon gleams out through the gulfs in the dark deep clouds which sweep swiftly across her path. the men see a large ship hard and fast on the sands and in a perfect boil of waters. the tremendous seas surge around her, and as they wildly leap against her shake her from stem to stern; the spray is flying over her in great sheets, and mingles with the dark masses of smoke, which rise in thick clouds from the flaming tar-barrels, while smoke and spray are swept swiftly to leeward by the force of the wind. the vessel is making all possible signals of distress; the fierce gale has driven her, at each lift of the sea, higher and higher upon the sands, until she has reached the highest part, and there has grounded fast. as the tide fell the waves could no longer lift the ship, and let her crash down upon the sand, else long since she would have been utterly broken to pieces. the boat makes in for the ship, the people on board see her, and cries and cheers of joy greet her approach. the foresail is lowered, the anchor thrown overboard, and the boat fast sheers in towards the vessel, which they find to be an emigrant ship crowded with passengers. the cable goes out by the run, and is too soon exhausted, for with a jerk it brings the boat up within sixty feet of the vessel. as the poor emigrants see the boat stop short, their cries for help are frantic, and sound dismally in the boatmen's ears, as slowly and laboriously they haul in the cable, and with much trouble get up their anchor, before making another attempt to get alongside the ship. in the meantime they answer the cries of the people with shouts to encourage them, and the moon shining out, the emigrants see that they are not deserted. the sea is so heavy, and the boat's anchor has taken so firm a hold, that it is a long time before they can get it up; at last they succeed, and now sail within fifty fathoms of the vessel, before they heave the anchor overboard again. it is necessary if they are to windward of a vessel to let the anchor down as far as possible from her, that they may get plenty of sea-room when they haul up to it again, so that when they set sail they may have space enough to sail clear of the vessel upon which the seas would throw the boat bodily, if they did not allow themselves room to steer a course which shall be clear of her. they let the cable out gradually and drop alongside; they get a hawser from the bow, and another from the stern of the vessel, and by these they are enabled to keep the boat moderately well in position, the man on board hauling and veering on the ropes, and upon the boat's cable attached to the anchor, so as to keep the boat sufficiently near without letting her strike against the sides of the vessel, and this, in the broken seas and rapid tide, is a matter of no small difficulty. the ship is the _fusilier_, bound from london to australia; her captain and pilot shout out to the men on board the boat, "how many can you carry? we have more than one hundred souls on board, more than sixty women and children." and it is with no little dismay that the terrified passengers look down upon the boat half buried in spray, and wonder how she could by any possibility be the means of rescuing such a crowd of people. the men answer from the boat that they have a steamer near, and that they will take off the passengers and crew in parties to her. two of the life-boat men, as the boat lifts on the top of a sea, make a sprint, catch hold of the man-ropes and climb on board the ship. "who comes here?" shouts the captain, as the two boatmen, clad in their oilskin overalls, with their cork belts on, and pale and half exhausted with their long battling with wind and sea, jump from the bulwarks amid the excited passengers who crowd the deck. "two men from the life-boat," is the reply, and the passengers throng round them, seize them by the hands, and some even cling to them with an energy of fear, that requires considerable force to overcome. the light from the ship's lamps and the faint moonlight reveal the mass of people on board, and the terrible state of exhaustion and fear that most of them are in; some are deadly pale and terror-stricken, their eyes wildly staring, and trembling in every limb; some are in a fainting condition, and are supported by friends, who half forget their own terrors in their efforts to console the sufferers who seem to need it most; the wild shrieks of some of the poor women pierce the gale, while others of the passengers are quiet and resigned, but their pale and firm looks and clasped hands suggest the depth of the emotions that they are at such pains to control. it has been a long long night of terror and most anxious suspense, and many of those who have held up bravely during its hours of danger and almost of despair, now break down at the crisis of the life-boat's arrival. but the night has not been one of unreasoning fear with all. there are those on board who, filled with a calm heroism, have by their example of holy faith exerted great influence for good among their fellow-passengers--one woman especially, who has been for some time employed by a religious society in london, visiting among the poor, proves herself well fitted for scenes of danger and distress. gathering many around her, she read and prayed with them; and often as the wild blasts shook the vessel to the keel, there mingled with the roar of the storm the strains of hymns, and many poor creatures gathered consolation and confidence as they were led to look, from their own perfect helplessness and weakness, to the almighty arm of a loving god; and many, who had already learnt to know and to feel those truths which take the sting from death, were encouraged to draw nearer to place their full reliance upon the sufficient atonement of him who has declared, "i am the resurrection, and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: and he that believeth in me shall never die." thus there was light in the darkness and songs in the night, and the voice speaking mid the tempest said, "peace, be still;" and many felt, although the warring elements still raged, a calm, which recklessness may assume, but which faith alone can give at such an hour. this is no fancy sketch, no effort to drag in a bit of attempted pathos. one hundred immortal souls were momentarily expecting the summons which should launch them into eternity; and a most terrible shade in the tragic picture it would indeed have been, had not any of that throng been prepared for the summons by the exercise of earnest humble faith--if by all of them the expected messenger, who seemed to linger minute by minute upon the threshold, was dreaded only with a despairing fear, as the king of terrors, if not any were prepared to welcome him calmly as the messenger of peace. but now the life-boat men are upon the deck--a prospect of safety dawns upon all--a wild scene of excitement for a moment prevails, and there is a rush made for the gangway of the ship. mothers shriek for their children; husbands strive to push their wives through the throng, and children are trodden down in the rush. it is a few moments before the excitement ceases, and the captain can exercise any authority; but the emigrants, checked for a minute, regain self-control, fall back from the side of the vessel, and await for orders. "how many will the life-boat carry?" the captain asks the life-boat men. "between twenty and thirty at each trip," is the answer. "there is a very nasty dangerous sea and surf over the sands, if too crowded we may get some washed out of her." it is at once decided, as a matter of course, that the women and children shall be taken first, and the crew prepare to get them into the boat. two sailors are slung in bow-lines over the side of the vessel to help the women down. the boat ranges to and fro in the rush of the tide, the men do their utmost to check its sheering, hauling and easing in turn the hawsers which are passed from the ship to the bow and stern of the boat, but there is no keeping her for one moment steady; now she veers right away from the vessel as far as the cable will let her, and again comes in upon a rush of sea as if to crush herself against the wreck; up she is lifted on the crest of a wave to almost the level of the ship's deck, and down again plunges as the wave passes, many feet below, and leaves a deep and dismal gulf of tumbled sea and foam between her and the ship. it is a terrible scene; the crowd of helpless frightened people, and the comparatively small boat, tossed wildly in the rage of maddened waves, their one hope of rescue; and it is dangerous and difficult work getting the people into the boat; it would have been quite difficult and dangerous enough if all had been active and resolute sailors accustomed to scenes of danger, but how much more so, when a large proportion of those to be saved are helpless women, some aged and infirm! the women who are mothers are called first; one is led to the gangway, and shrinks back from the scene before her. the boat is lifted up on a big wave, the men stand on the thwarts with outstretched arms, ready to catch her if she falls, but the next moment the boat drops into the wild waste of water many feet below, and is half covered with a rush of foam. no wonder that the poor woman shrieks with terror, and seeks to struggle back on to the deck of the vessel; no time for persuasion, she is urged forcibly over the gangway, and now hangs in mid-air, held by the two men who are suspended over the side by ropes; as the boat rises again, the boatmen, who stand ready to catch her, cry, "let go!" the two men do so, but the woman, in her terror, clings to one with a frantic grasp, and the next moment, as the boat falls away from the side of the vessel--oh! must she not fall into the sea? for the man to whom she is clinging cannot hold her as she is; one of the active prompt boatmen sees her danger, makes a spring, grasps her by the heel, drags her from her hold, catches her in his arms in her fall, and both of them roll over into the boat, their fall broken by the men who stand ready to catch them. the half insensible woman is quickly passed to the stern of the boat and thus she is saved. now, they are ready again, for all are anxious that not a moment shall be lost; the number to be rescued, and the time that must of necessity be occupied in going to and from the steamer, makes every minute a question of life and death. again, up the boat rises; the woman who is being urged forward makes a half spring, and is got into the boat without much trouble. the next time the boat rises she does not come well alongside, she rather falls short and sheers off. a woman is being held over the side by the two men: "don't let go, jack; don't let go!" the woman struggles, the position of the men is so awkward that they cannot hold her firmly, and she is struggling from their grasp, while the mad waves leap below, and if she falls she must at once be swept away by them, and down she does fall, but at that moment the boat sheers in again, just enough to enable one of the men to grasp the clothes of the woman and to drag her, as she falls, on to the side of the boat, and she too is saved. again to work; another woman, she is sobbing, and cries out piteously, "oh! don't shake me; be careful, don't hurt me!" poor creature! she is very near her confinement; down she falls from the hands of the men who are holding her into the arms of the boatmen, and rolls over into the bottom of the boat. some of the husbands on board throw blankets down to the poor half-dressed women in the boat; the blankets are rolled into bundles that the wind may not carry them away. some of the women in the boat are crying aloud for their children; a passenger rushes frantically to the gangway, cries, "here, here!" and thrusts a big bundle into the hands of one of the sailors, who supposes it to be merely a blanket which the man intends for his wife in the boat. "here, bill, catch!" the sailor shouts and throws the bundle to a boatman who is standing up in the boat; he just succeeds in catching it, as it is in the point of falling into the sea, and is thunderstruck to hear a baby's cry proceed from it, while there is a shriek from a woman, "my child! my child!" as she springs forward, and snatches it from him, which tells, indeed, of the greatness of the danger through which the poor little thing has passed. in spite of all the boatmen's care and labour the boat every now and then lurches with a tremendous thump against the ship's side, and would be stove in but for the massive cork fenders which surround her, and still she is leaping and tossing about; now high as the main chains of the ship, now low in the trough of a big sea, the hollow of which is so deep that it leaves but little water between the bottom of the boat and the sands; but with all eager haste the men work on, and at last, after many hair-breadth escapes, and some heavy falls, thirty women and children are got on board, and the boat is declared to be full. the boatmen cast off the hawsers from her bow and stern, and begin to haul in hard upon the cable. they draw the boat up to the anchor with much difficulty, for as the range of cable gets shorter, the boat jerks and pitches a great deal in the rush of the short waves, and in the swing of the tide. the anchor is up at last; the sails are hoisted; the boat feels her helm, gathers way swiftly, and shoots clear of the ship. a faint and half-hearted cheer greets them as they pass astern of the vessel; the remaining passengers watch them with wistful and somewhat anxious glances as they plunge on through sea and foam. away the boat bounds before the fierce gale--on through the flying surf and boiling sea--on, although the waves leap over her and fill her with their spray. buoyantly she rises and shakes herself free, staggering as a cross wave mid the broken water dashes itself against her bows; tossing her stern high as she climbs the waves' tall crests, then pitching almost bows under as the rolling waves pass under her stern; and lurching heavily on her side as she sinks into the trough of the sea. it is, in spite of their hope, a dread time for the poor women and children on board her, with those whom they love as themselves, left, they almost fear, to perish on the wreck, and while to themselves death at every moment seems very near; trembling with cold and excitement, they crowd together, and hold on to the boat, to each other, to anything; it is hard to think of safety while the boiling seas foam so fiercely around, ready, it seems, at any moment to overwhelm and bury the boat in their fierce waves. and the poor women take a more convulsive and firm grasp, as every now and then the men see a giant cross sea heading towards them, and give a quick warning cry--"hold on!" and the sea comes with a clean sweep over the boat, almost washing them out of her. the steamer, as has been said, towed the life-boat well to windward, that she might have a fair wind before which to run in for the wreck, but as soon as the life-boat left the steamer, away she speeded round to the other side of the sands, to leeward of the wreck, that the boat might again have a fair wind to her as she comes from the wreck, and she now lays to, awaiting the boat's return. on she comes; the broken water is now passed; the air is full of scud and spray, but the cross seas overrun her no longer; she is in deep water, and the exhausted emigrants begin to raise their heads and look about them; they could not have endured that continual breaking of the waves and rush of water over them much longer; how their hearts lift with joy as they hear the cheering voices of the men, and have the lights of the steamer pointed out to them, shining bright and near! thus, with thirty women and children, their first sheave of the harvest to be gathered from death, the life-boat men run their boat alongside the _aid_. the steamer is put athwart the seas, to form a break-water for the boat, which comes under her lee; the roll of the steamer, the pitching of the boat, the wild wind and sea, with the darkness of the night only faintly broken by the light of the steamer's lanterns, render it a somewhat difficult matter to get the women out of the boat. as the boat rises the men lift up a woman and steady her for a moment on the gunwale, two men on the steamer catch her by the arms as she comes up within reach, and she is dragged up the side on to the deck. there is here also no time for ceremony; a moment's hesitation, and the poor creature might have a limb crushed between the steamer and the boat. as each woman is thus got on deck, two men half lead half carry her to the cabin below. one woman struggles to get back to the boat, crying for her child, the men do not understand her in the roar of the gale, and she is gently forced below; again the rolled-up blanket appears, it is handed into the steamer, and is about to be dropped upon the deck, when half-a-dozen voices shout out, "there is a baby in the blanket!" and it is carried down into the cabin, and received by the poor weeping mother with a great outburst of joy. "god bless you! god bless you!" she exclaims to the man, and then blesses and praises god out of the abundant fulness of her heart. some of the poor women are completely overcome by the reaction which takes possession of them now that they find themselves in safety; they had been comparatively calm and resigned during their hours of hardship and danger; now they realise the nature of the peril to which they have been exposed, and in which many whom they love are still placed. some throw themselves on the cabin floor, weeping and sobbing; some cling to the sailors, begging and entreating them to save their husbands and children who are on board the wreck; while others can do little else than offer up some simple form of prayer and praise to god. instantly that the boat is freed from her passengers she drops astern of the steamer, and is towed round the sands, to get again into position to make a second trip to the vessel; and when the straining cable is let go, and her sail hoisted, she heads round, gathers way, and bounds in like a greyhound through the troubled sea towards the wreck. a slant of wind comes and drives her from her course, and she fails in reaching the ship, and makes for the open water. the steamer speedily picks her up, tows her into a more favourable position, and the boat soon gets again alongside the vessel. there are still on board more women and children than will fill the boat, and they have to leave some half-a-dozen behind. all the old difficulties in getting the women down the side of the vessel into the life-boat are repeated, although the wind has now fallen a little. they make for the steamer, and as each new comer is handed down into the cabin, the anxiety of those who are eagerly looking for some loved one is great indeed, and the meetings again, after so dread a separation, are naturally very affecting. for the third time the boat makes to the ship, and now brings away the remaining passengers. the cabin of the steamer is full of women and children in every stage of exhaustion and excitement; and they are all very thankful to god for the full answer vouchsafed to the earnest prayers of the previous night. it has taken more than three hours to get the emigrants on board the steamer; there has been additional delay created by the boat twice failing to reach the ship, but this very delay, which at the time seemed so unfortunate, was, under god's providence, the means of saving further life. the life-boat again makes for the _fusilier_ to see what the crew of the vessel will do, whether they will abandon the vessel at once, or wait to see the result of a change in the weather which seems to promise. they get alongside; the gale has gone down very considerably, and the tide has been falling fast for some time. the ship being light, has not received so much injury from the thumping on the ground as they anticipated; and, as she is high up on the sands, the tide has left her the sooner, so that she has settled down in shallow water, and there is now, therefore, no immediate danger; although, should the wind get up with the returning tide, she may be very speedily beaten to pieces. the captain of the ship thinks that if the wind goes down she may possibly be got off at the next high tide, as she has not been much knocked about; but while he is unwilling to abandon the vessel while there is a chance of her being rescued, he feels the greatness of the risk, and wishes the life-boat to remain alongside him. it is nearly day-light; the night is clear, and the wind still blowing very hard, although the fierceness of the gale seems expended. the life-boat makes her way to the steamer, and takes orders to be given at ramsgate to send luggers with anchors and cables, that every effort may be made to get the ship off, if the weather continues to moderate. the boat then returns and lies by the ship, while the steamer, heavily freighted with rescued emigrants, makes the best of her way towards ramsgate. chapter xii. the rescue of the crew of the "demerara," and the emigrants' welcome to ramsgate. "eternal father, strong to save, whose arm hath bound the restless wave, who bid'st the mighty ocean deep its own appointed limits keep; o hear us when we cry to thee for those in peril on the sea." _hymn._ "now we must leave our fatherland, and wander far o'er ocean's foam; broken is kinship's dearest band, forsaken stands our ancient home. "but one will ever with us go, through busiest day and stillest night; the heavens above, the deeps below, stand all unveiled before his sight." _hymn._ the emigrants describe their perils to the men on board the steamer, and mention that during the previous evening, while their ship was driving, and some time before she struck, they saw a large ship in great distress, and drifting fast in the direction of the sands, but that as darkness set in, they lost sight of her. the crew of the steamer keep a sharp look-out for this vessel, or for any signs of her. she is evidently the one of which they had already heard, and of which they had been in search before they discovered the _fusilier_. after some time they discover part of a mast and other wreckage entangled in the sands, and can only conclude that the vessel has gone utterly to pieces, with the loss of all hands, during the night; they must speed on, and get the poor emigrants cared for on shore with all possible haste. but for the delay that had been occasioned, the steamer would have been far on its way to ramsgate by this time, while it was yet too dark for them to see any distance; now in the grey light that increases rapidly they can search for any other signs of wreckage. as they proceed down the prince's channel, and get near to the light-vessel, they see the small remnant of a wreck, which they think may be the bowsprit and jib-boom of a vessel dismasted and on her beam ends; they get nearer to her, and find that she is well over on the north-east side of the girdler or shingle sands. some of the crew wish to launch the steam tug's small life-boat, eighteen feet long, and make in through the surf to the wreck, to which they think they can see some of the crew clinging; but it is considered too great a risk to take so small a boat through such a broken sea, and it is agreed that they had better go back for the large life-boat. they put back, and passing to leeward of the _fusilier_, strike the flag half-mast high, as a sign that the boat is to join them. this she speedily does, and they together make for the newly-found wreck; as they approach her, they can see that she is a vessel on her beam ends, with only her foremast standing. the life-boat makes in for her; the men wonder greatly that the vessel has held together so long, for she is broken and torn almost to pieces; the copper is peeled off her bottom, the timbers are started, rent, and twisted; the planking is wrenched off, almost all the cargo is washed out of the shattered hull, and here, and there, the light is to be seen through her bottom; there remains now little more than the skeleton of the ship that a few hours before, taut and trim, had buoyantly bounded over the seas; and where was her gallant crew that had so bravely sailed her then? the foremast, feebly held in position by a remnant of the deck, lies stretched a few feet above the water. the crew and pilot have been lashed to it for many hours, and have, for that time, seemed to be trembling over a fearful and yawning grave; the heavy waves foam up and beat against the hull, and the doomed ship is, bit by bit, being torn further to pieces. the crew, as they cling on, hear the timbers creaking and snapping; the deck was blown up as the water covered it, by the force of the confined air, and its fragments have been swept away in the swift tide. the heavy waves make a greater and greater breach over the ship; at times the ship lifts a little from the mere force of the blows given by the tremendous seas; at any moment the foremast may break off short, and the wreck be rolled right over. the mast quivers at every shake and heave of the wreck; the fierce tide rushes five feet beneath where the trembling sailors cling, over whom the waves are continually breaking. an hour passes, and the men are to their wonder still spared; another and another hour, but they have no means of giving any signals of distress, and there seems no room whatever for hope. how can there be? they ask each other. suddenly they make out a steamer's lights in the distance, and watch them with a wistful curiosity; to their astonishment the steamer seems to make directly for them, and then to cruise backwards and forwards within a few hundred feet of them. a few of the trembling sailors shout out once or twice, but the rest smile grimly at the idea of any voice being heard, even a few yards off, in the roar of such a gale. they watch the steamer's lights in a very agony of suspense, but without any hope that they themselves can be discovered in the darkness. they see a smaller light some distance astern of the steamer, and imagine it to be that of a life-boat. as they hopelessly watch the movement of the vessels, they hear the dull throb of heavy guns from the distant light-ships. they see the faint flashes of light from the rockets: they know that these signals are calling to the steamer and life-boat to speed on elsewhere, to the rescue of other drowning ones; yes, the steamer, in answer to these signals, is leaving them, and abandoning her vain search, and with a deepening despair they watch her lights grow fainter and fainter, and at last disappear in the distance. so they are left alone in their desolation, while the wild winds roar and the hungry waves rage around them. the moon goes down, the darkness deepens, the gale rushes by more furiously than ever; then comes a slight lull, and a faint light streaks the horizon. they tighten their grasp upon the trembling mast and torn rigging, and speak a few words of hope. they may yet witness another sun-rise; for in the dull grey light of the early dawn they can see faintly a steamer in the distance. she is approaching, but her course will hardly bring her near enough to discover them, lying as they are up on one torn mast only just out of the water. how intensely they watch her! and many an earnest beseeching prayer is uplifted, and from some hearts that were withal not much accustomed to prayer. eagerly! eagerly! they watch her! how some feebly speak words of hope, while others will not be aroused out of their despair! thank god! she changes her course, and makes in directly for the sands, upon the edge of which their frail wreck rests. they may all begin to hope again, and joy comes in upon them like a flood. they shout aloud, and wave a rag of canvas, the only means of signalling that is left to them. the steamer sees them, she dips her flag as a signal that they are seen; and then, to the unspeakable horror of the poor men, slowly turns round, and steams away full speed in the direction from which she came. an agony of fear again comes over the poor fellows; they feel that they cannot be altogether deserted. upon reflection, they see that no ordinary boat could live through the surf which separates them from the steamer; and the steamer would only have been herself wrecked if she had come any nearer the sands. she must have gone for a life-boat. how long will she be away? they shudder as the creaking mast trembles beneath them; and look with heart dread at the yawning gulf of wild waters which gapes a few feet below; and they cannot but have a dismal fear that the steamer on her return with assistance, may find no vestige left either of them, or of the remnant of wreck to which they cling. a short time, which however seems long indeed to them in their great suspense, and they again see the steamer, and soon they can make out, to their great joy, that she has the life-boat in tow. still the flying surf beats upon them, and drives them, with its sheer weight, still closer to the mast; still the water rages around, while they cling with all desperate energy to the quivering shrouds; they are cold, and drenched, and exhausted, but they are full of hope; their hearts are lightened, their strength seems to return, the long hours during which they have seemed hopelessly face to face with death are passed, for the life-boat is near, and her gallant crew are speeding to their rescue. the life-boat comes swiftly on, running before the still heavy gale; now rising like a cork to the mounting seas, or plunging boldly through the surf and broken water. her men forget the long night-struggle of fatigue and danger through which they have passed; much noble, self-denying, and dangerous work have they done, but they have still noble work to do--more lives to save, by the help of god--and with cool determination they cheerfully proceed to their new labours. they find the water more and more broken as they near the ship; the waves are flying high over the lost vessel; the ebb-tide is running strongly. from the breaking seas, and from the position of the wreck, now on her broadside with her keel to windward, they cannot anchor on the windward side and let the boat drop gradually in upon the wreck, their only chance is to run with the wind abeam right in upon the fore-rigging. it is true that there is considerable danger in this, but at such times the life-boat men cannot stop to calculate danger, and must be ready oftentimes to risk their own lives in their attempts to save the lives of others. they, therefore, charge in straight amid the floating wreckage, and the boat hits hard upon the iron windlass, which is still hanging to the deck of the vessel. a rope is thrown round the fore-rigging, and the group of exhausted sailors shout with joy as they greet the glad friendly faces of the life-boat men coming in upon them out of the storm of desolation that rages around. the crew, sixteen in number, including the pilot and a boy of about eleven years of age, are to the last extent exhausted and feeble, and slowly drop one by one from the mast into the boat, and leave to its fate the last storm-torn fragment of the _demerara_, which has been for so many hours their only hope. "oars out, and pull hard; let us get clear of all this wreckage before we have a hole knocked in the boat's bottom," and every boatman strains his hardest; soon they are clear; now a moment's delay ere they hoist the sail, and a great shaking of hands all round, and warm greetings, and heartfelt thanks from the saved ones, and the boat's sail is again hoisted, and away they make through the surf. it is now nearly ten o'clock in the morning; they soon reach the steamer, which is waiting to leeward. the emigrants have been watching the movements of the boat with the keenest interest; their feelings of sympathy are moved to their very depths, by the fact of their having passed so lately through similar scenes of danger and rescue. they crowd the deck, and shout after shout greets the boat; the women cheer at the top of their voices, and welcome, with outstretched arms, alike the rescued and the rescuers. one warm-hearted irishwoman seizes the coxswain's hands in both hers, and shakes them with might and main, sobbing out, as the tears roll down her cheeks, "i'll pray the holy father for you the longest day that i live." the steamer is literally crowded with rescued people; the cabins are given up to the women and children, and the poor people half forget their present misery in great thankfulness for their safety; they are wet and cold, and trembling with excitement and with the effects of their long hours of fear and exposure; the cabin is small and crowded to the extreme; the steamer rolls and pitches tremendously, as she makes her way through the cross seas which still run high and broken, though the height of the tempest is past. it is no unusual occurrence for a crowd of people to be grouped at the pier-head, watching with interest for the appearance of one of the many steamers which, with flags flying in token of goodly freight, and with gay appearance, as fitly betokens holiday time, makes swiftly for the harbour; but with a deeper interest than ever is excited by such holiday scenes is the steamer waited for now. it is one of those bright, genial winter mornings of which ramsgate has so goodly a share. many persons have been attracted to the pier to take, on that pleasant promenade, a good instalment of the fresh breeze, and to watch the sea, bright with sunshine, and the waves glistening and flashing in their turmoil of unrest. intelligence spreads that the steamer and life-boat have been away all night, and are now every minute expected to round the point and appear in sight. great is the feeling of gladness, and deep the satisfaction, as the gallant _aid_ appears with her flags flying, and flags flying too at the life-boat's mast-heads, telling the glad tale of successful effort. the crowd rejoices greatly in the good work done; and as the steamer comes nearer it is seen that never on a summer's day did steamer bear a fuller freight of holiday-seekers than does the _aid_ now bear of those who have been rescued from deadly peril. from the pier the crowd look down upon the multitude on board, and feel that that throng of fellow-beings have been just snatched from death, and a thrill of wonder and gladness passes through the on-lookers, and combines with that half formed sense of fear, which a realization of danger recently escaped either by ourselves, or by others, always gives. the crowd waves, and shouts, and hurrahs, and gives every sign of glad welcome and hearty congratulation, and as the steamer sweeps round the pier-head, the pale upturned faces of one hundred and twenty rescued men, women, and children, smile back a glad acknowledgment of the welcome so warmly given. it is a scene almost overpowering in the deep feeling that it produces. the emigrants land; they toil weakly up the steps to the pier, all bearing signs of the dangers and hardships through which they have passed. some are barely clothed, some have blankets wrapped round them, and all are weary and worn and faint with cold and wet and long suspense. there are aged women among the emigrants; some who had been unwilling to be left behind when those most dear to them were about to seek their fortunes abroad; others had been sent for by their friends, and to them the thoughts of the terrors and trials of a sea-voyage had been overcome by the longing to see, once again before they died, the faces so long loved and so much missed; to see perhaps the grand-children upon whom, although they had never looked, yet they had thought of until they had become almost part of their daily life. it is piteous to see these aged women totter from the steamer to the pier. and young men and young women are of the number; they, crowded in the race at home, determined to seek in a wider field to make better way. here a poor stricken woman looks wistfully upon the white face and almost closed eyes of the baby in her husband's arms. this is the child that was so nearly lost overboard as it was thrown into the boat wrapped up in a blanket; the mother's fears were not realised--the baby speedily recovered. it now becomes the glad office of the people of ramsgate to bestir themselves on behalf of those suddenly thrown upon their charity. the agent of the shipwrecked fishermen and mariners' society at once takes charge of the sailors. accommodation is found for the emigrants in houses near the pier, and a plentiful meal at once supplied; many of the residents busy themselves most heartily; clothes, dresses, coats, boots, and all necessary garments are most liberally given; the people are ready to _spoil_ themselves on behalf of the poor emigrants. and thus warmed, fed, clothed and consoled by the heartfelt sympathy that is so evidently and practically manifested, the poor emigrants recover in a wonderfully short space of time from the state of physical and nervous exhaustion to which they had been reduced; but they are never likely to forget the terrors of the night, or the debt of gratitude they owe to the gallant ramsgate life-boat men, who so nobly effected their rescue. subscriptions in the meantime have been raised in the town to pay all expenses, and to put into the hands of the poor emigrants some little ready money. one of the shipping agents has telegraphed to the owners of the ship, and been empowered to provide the emigrants all needed board and lodging; he does so, and on the next morning forwards them to london. a crowd of ramsgate people bid them good-bye at the station, and receive grateful acknowledgments of the kindness and sympathy that have been shown, and they from their hearts wish their poor friends god speed. the emigrants were cared for in london by the owners of the _fusilier_. the weather moderating the morning after the wreck, the emigrants' things were got out of the vessel and sent on to them; and the owners of the _fusilier_ soon obtained another ship, in which they forwarded their passengers, and they had a prosperous voyage to melbourne. the _fusilier_ was ultimately got off the sands, but no vestige of the _demerara_ was ever again seen. chapter xiii. the wreck of the "mary"--gales abroad. "yet more! the billows and the depths have more! high hearts and brave are gathered to thy breast! they hear not now the booming waters roar, the battle-thunders will not break their rest. keep thy red gold and gems, thou stormy grave! give back the true and brave!" _mrs. hemans._ the year was fast dying out. inland the wild winds did little to disturb the progress of christmas preparations, or the happiness of christmas gatherings. the blasts swept ragingly along, and the last of the dead leaves were torn from the withering branches. the stalwart trees battled sturdily in the woods; but many a stout veteran that had long laughed at storms, at last was bowed in the grasp of the gale, and fell prostrate, or, like a fainting giant, leant with arms all abroad against his fellow-strugglers in the strife. in the towns there was much wondering gossip at the force of the wind, and here and there some trivial disasters to record; but for all its rage and bluster, the gale did not gather on shore many trophies of its strength, and swept moaningly out to sea, to find in the yielding waters a more ready ally, as it would visit with its wrath man and his works. the brave ships that were caught by the gale were prepared to accept the accustomed challenge. it overtook the tall vessels, and then the swelling sails garnered the force of the wind and held it captive, and made it speed the swift ship along. it fell with its full strength upon the stout ships riding at anchor, and moaned through the shaking rigging, and by the swaying masts and yards, while the groaning cables shuddered in every link, and the strong anchors grappled the ground with a tighter and tighter grasp, and held the good ships safe, in spite of the raging wind and rush of sea, safe from the greedy waiting sands, or cruel rocks. thus on the tempest-lashed ocean all was life, and energy, and conflict; and the dying year, as its closing hours sped away, had at sea the howling winds and seething waves to sing its dirge, and storm weary sailors, and storm-beaten ships to mark its close. ships from the thames, from the east coasts of england and scotland, from all northern europe--ships sailing under every flag, and bound to all ports, gathered day by day in the downs anchorage, where they waited for the strong south-westerly gales to give place to a more favourable slant of wind, that they might pursue their way down channel; but still the strong adverse winds prevailed. but while the outward-bound ships were thus obliged to halt in their course, the homeward-bound ships came foamingly along, their masts bending like whips under the small spread of canvas they were alone able to carry. like white-winged gulls they fled over the leaping seas, and threaded their way through the crowded anchorage of the downs. the careless sailors laughed at the heavy blasts of wind which in their force only hurried the good ship on, and thus gave the crews a better prospect of realising their hopes of being in old england on the near christmas tide, to spend it with their friends on shore, and share in, and by their presence greatly add to, all the pleasures of the season. but the smaller vessels at anchor in the downs began to ride uneasily, the force of the gale fell on them with unchecked fury, the swift tide pressed them sore, and raging seas broke over them again and again. their anchors began to drag; the breakers on the goodwin sands leapt and foamed dangerously near to leeward; there was also danger of collision if their anchors continued to drag, the ships in the downs being so crowded together. yes, there must be a flight from the downs on the part of many of the smaller craft. some vessels make for ramsgate harbour, not many, as the charges are now so high and restrictive as almost to make it cease from being a harbour of refuge. other vessels make for an anchorage round the north foreland; a dangerous experiment this, as it frequently happens that a sudden lull comes in the southerly gale, and in a short time the wind chops right round, and begins to blow from the northward harder than ever. it was so on the occasion of which we are writing. if a strong fort, under which a fleet was anchored for protection, suddenly fell into the hands of the enemy, a greater change would not be wrought in the position, as to the safety of the vessels, than is occasioned by this sudden shift of wind to the vessels in the margate roads. the high cliffs which have been their shield now become their deadly peril. it had been desirable to gain their shelter, it is now a necessity to escape from their neighbourhood as soon as possible. and so, on this occasion, as the wind chopped round all was at once astir; some ships succeeded in regaining their anchors, others had no time or power to do so; some were driven ashore; twenty or thirty vessels had to slip their cables, and as, with no anchors on board, the captains did not dare to remain in the neighbourhood of the sands or land, these vessels were hauled on a wind, and like a flock of weary frightened birds went staggering out into the north sea.[1] the hovelling-luggers from ramsgate, margate, deal, and broadstairs are out during the gale; they go in chase of the ships that have fled from their anchorage; they place men on board such vessels as need them, either to act as pilots, or to assist the weary crews. some of the luggers receive orders to fetch anchors and cables for such vessels as have lost theirs, and away they go plunging and speeding through the seas, making for the nearest port where they can find agents to supply them; and then out again with all speed, heavily laden, with anchors and chains, in search of the vessels which have employed them, and which have, likely enough, been driven by the force of the gale, far from the position in which the luggers left them. at midnight the gale gathers increased force; the dark heavy clouds seem to settle lower and lower, and as the snow-squalls sweep by, the air and sea seem one confused mass of flying foam and snow. the storm rages at ramsgate pier with all its fury; the pier stands an advanced fortress unmoved by the fierce attack of the waves, and it is well manned by brave boatmen, the reserved guard of the storm--storm warriors ready to sally forth to rescue life at the first signal of danger. one or two waggons, heavily laden with chains, and trucks with anchors, are being drawn down the pier by the struggling horses, the spray in heavy volumes washing over all. luggers in the harbour, and alongside the pier, are rolling and pitching in the rough tumble of the miniature sea that the gale arouses even there. an anchor is hanging from the crane, a lugger beneath it is tossing up and down; the men are doing their utmost to guide the anchor in its descent into the boat as she plunges about; it is perilous work for all hands; it seems a marvel that it can be done without staving in the boat, or crushing the men. a group of boatmen are crouching under shelter of the wall of the pier, near the life-boat; the night wears away--it is three o'clock in the morning. a boatman makes his way to the pier-head; he finds the coxswain of the life-boat on the look-out. "well, jarman, a heavy gale this." "a heavy gale indeed, gorham; it is blowing great guns and no mistake--a terrific sea, too; just the night for our work, and i shall not be surprised if some is cut out for us, and pretty stiff too, before the morning." "likely enough, it is a sort of touch-and-go night for the goodwin. i noticed before dark several vessels riding in the gulls; now the wind has cast in so heavily from the north, it will go hard with some of them, i fear. "yes, i noticed them; they must have a bad time of it now; it is to be hoped that the anchors will hold; it will be almost sudden death for any poor fellows whose ships touch the goodwin to-night; why, with the sea that must be now raging there, it would take in a ship almost at a mouthful." "true enough, coxswain; i have been very anxious about them all night--cannot help thinking about them." and it is supposed that the boatman's fears were very terribly justified. one vessel was wrecked in the way we are about to tell; and very grave fears were felt as to the fate of several others; when the morning came, not one of the vessels that had been noticed the evening before as being anchored in such a dangerous position was to be seen, and yet it was almost certain that not any of them could have got away in safety. fishing-smacks that had been lying-to not far from the north foreland saw the fleet of vessels driven from the margate roads, and afterwards saw several of them flying signals of distress, and apparently in a sinking condition; but from the extraordinary force of the gale, the fishermen could render no assistance, and the weather was too dark and thick for the signals for help to be seen from the light-vessels, or from the shore; moreover, a good deal of wreckage was seen floating about in the morning, and the mast-head of one vessel was discovered standing out of the water upon the goodwin, the last seen relic of some unknown ship and crew. among the vessels observed during the afternoon to be at anchor in a very perilous position in the gull stream, and making very bad weather of it, was the _mary_, a schooner of about 170 tons; she had been a dutch galliott, had a cargo of coals on board, and was bound from shields to dieppe. there was one fine young man on board, david fullarton. life seemed more especially dear to him, as he was engaged to be married; the arrangements for the wedding had been made; he had been busy in preparing a home; and a short voyage from shields to dieppe and back, would do something towards the expenses, and he would not be long away; and so there were bright memories to look back upon, bright hopes before him; but this terrible storm seems to cover all with its shadow. as soon as darkness sets in, and the gale shows signs of increasing in force, fullarton becomes very anxious, and keenly alive to the danger the schooner is in; time after time he entreats the captain to have the masts cut away, that the vessel may ride more easily, and be less exposed to the fury of the wind. "do! captain, pray do! for the sake of our lives let it be done! we are dragging our anchors--we are fast driving on the sands;" and again he begs the captain to signal for assistance. "why not! why not? you will do it too late, captain, too late!" the poor fellow cries in his restlessness and distress. the night grows on, and its terrors multiply; the intense darkness, the wild sea, the howling winds moaning and wailing through the rigging, the hoarse roar and thunder of the breakers raging on the near goodwin sands. at last, the captain feels that the schooner is in great danger, and orders the crew to set a tar-barrel on fire; they hasten to do so--fullarton working with eager haste; but the wash of the sea over it and the heavy wind will not let it burn; they fill the barrel with tow and tar, and grease, and at last get it to flare up with a fierce flame that resists the storm; the watch on board the gull light-ship had noticed before dark the danger of the vessel, and had been keenly on the look-out in her direction for signals of distress; on ramsgate pier, also, an anxious look-out had been kept for some hours, the boatmen expecting disasters in that quarter. it is a little before four in the morning; the men on board the light-vessel see the signal of distress, and fire a gun and send up a rocket to convey to the shore the tidings that help is wanted. the boatmen at once commence preparations with all energy, they arouse the men asleep in the watch-house on the pier, a man hurries to give the harbour-master notice, the crew of the steamer _aid_ get ready for sea, the harbour-master hurries down the pier and gives the men orders to start on their merciful and perilous errand. away they go in the teeth of the hurricane, clearing their way through the leaping foaming waves and the clouds of heavy spray. the town and harbour lights gleam out in the darkness, but there is no looking back for them on the part of the men, and there may be none; until by god's mercy, their work is successfully finished, and then doubly will the lights shine out a glad welcome on their triumphant return home. the lights they now look for are the beacon fires of warfare; calls to conflict and peril; guides into the thickest of the dread battle-field. as the life-boat lifts on the curl of a wave, the crew see the flickering flame of the signal-fire that is burning so fiercely in the tar-barrel on the wreck; they make in for the signal at once, pass through the cud channel; snow-squalls come sweeping by, adding to the cold and darkness, and shutting out from their view all lights on the sands; the men are eager and excited in their quick sympathy for the shipwrecked crew--eager to brave all the dangers of the lashing seas which they know must be leaping and tearing about the wreck. and they well realize the deadly peril the poor shipwrecked seamen must be in, and think little in their struggle onward of all the hardships they themselves are enduring. for about forty minutes they battle their way, and then find themselves near the wreck; the signal flame from the burning tar-barrel leaps, and flickers, and burns low, and is almost extinguished by the spray; the life-boatmen watch it anxiously, for they know that if the crew of the vessel cannot succeed in keeping it alight, it will be almost impossible for them to find the vessel in the darkness of the night; the crew of the schooner also feel this to be the case, and bring clothes and bedding, and all the tar and oil they can get at, and by great exertions manage to keep the fire burning. footnote: [1] note.--_extract from newspaper._--"five vessels wrecked off margate:--on friday evening there were about one hundred and fifty vessels anchored in the margate and north foreland roads, where they were sheltered from a south-westerly gale. suddenly, about one o'clock on saturday morning, a violent gale sprung from the north-east, and the vessels in the roads were compelled to slip their anchors and seek the nearest shelter. rockets and flares were seen displayed in all directions from the numerous distressed vessels. the broadstairs life-boat and the margate life-boat, the _quiver_, put to sea. four vessels were driven ashore, three in the main, and one in margate bay, and the crews of three were saved by the broadstairs life-boat. another vessel was run down off the north foreland, and it is reported that another has gone to pieces on the tongue sand, and, it is feared, with all hands." chapter xiv. the wreck of the "mary"--a struggle for dear life. "sleep on; thy corse is far away, but love bewails thee yet; for thee the heart wrung sigh is breathed, and lovely eyes are wet." _g. d. prentice._ "now, my men, make ready!" the coxswain cries; "we've got our work before us." the night is wild, and dark, and bitter, blinding snow, and sleet, and storm-wrack rush along on the wings of the gale. the sands are alive with the rolling breakers, the fierce dash and seethe of the waves upon them add to the roar of the tempest; never was a battle-field more full of raging foes than is that into the midst of which our storm warriors are about to rush; never was band of men more beset by foes, more helplessly, hopelessly beset, than are the crew of the _mary_; how shall they be plucked from the midst of ten thousand raging waves? any one of which would swamp an ordinary boat; it can only by any possibility be done by such a boat as the life-boat, and only by such men as the life-boatmen. and now the men settle to their work. the mainsail and mizen are already close reefed, they are got ready for instant hoisting. the steamer lashes through the seas towing the boat farther to windward, the hawser is let go, the men hoist the sails as fast as they can in the leaping rolling boat; she feels the force of the blast, lays over on her side, down with the helm, she rights, her head comes round, and in through the boiling seas she makes for the wreck. each boatman has his life-belt on, and as the seas break more fiercely over the boat, the men twist the life-lines round their arms, so that if some huge wave, rushing over the boat, should wrench them from their hold, and wash them out of the boat, or that the boat should upset in the curl of a breaker, that they may have the better chance of getting back to her. each time that the boat lifts on the top of a wave they can make out the signal-fire on board the wreck, as the boat falls in the trough of a sea they speed swirling along, through a very gauntlet of hungry waves which leap upon her, as wolves would leap upon a strong horse; but she throws them off, as the horse might the wolves in the impetus of his speed and power. "ready in the bow?" "ay! ay!" "ready all?" "all ready." "we are nearing the wreck," a plunge forward on a big wave, and the dismasted vessel is seen only a few fathoms off. "over with the anchor, down with the mainsail; keep up the mizen, to let the boat sheer, and now for the wreck." the life-boatmen are near enough to her to see by the fitful blaze of the tar-barrel that she is a small schooner, with a high stern, and that she is totally dismasted, and they recognise the dutch-looking craft that they had watched during the afternoon; they catch the gleam of the pale faces of the crew, who are clinging to the gunwale. poor fellows! how they gaze out in the darkness; death, death, so near from the raging storm, from their sinking ship, from the terrible sands on which the wreck of their vessel will be torn piecemeal by the strong fierce waves in so short a time. how they cry out with hope, as they first catch sight of the lights that are shining out in the gloom, and drawing nearer and nearer! it may be only the lights of some vessel as badly off as they are: they will not think so; they are on the goodwin, the signals have been made, and answered from ramsgate; if the life-boat can save them, they will be saved, and this small light dancing so wildly in the storm, and drawing nearer out of the dread darkness of the wild night, may be the light of the life-boat, and they will not despair. it _must_ be the life-boat! no other boat could come in through the seas as that boat has done; and now as she nears, the light is reflected on her blue-and-white sides, and they hear the men shout, and the poor fellows pass from despair to hope, and cling harder than ever to the gunwale of the wreck, as the seas wash over them. on board the life-boat they veer out the cable rapidly; many fathoms run out, but still they seem to get no nearer the wreck, on the contrary, the wreck is getting farther and farther from them. as the life-boatmen made the vessel out in the darkness, they supposed her to be hard and fast on the sands, and as they neared, and could see how the waves were beating over her, this appeared still more to be the case, but it proves not to be so; the tide is much higher than usual, and the wreck, with two long lengths of chain-cable dragging over her bows, is drifting over the top of the sands, and with the force of the gale, and in the strength of the tide, drifts faster than the men on board the boat are able to veer out the cable. "hold on the cable, the wreck is drifting, we must up anchor; to it, my men, hard and fast as you can." this getting in the life-boat cable and anchor is terrible work; the wild seas are literally raging over the boat; it was bad enough when the boat was under weigh, running before the wind, bounding along with the waves in their flight, and thus escaping much of their fury. but now the boat is head to the seas, she meets them as they rush on with all their force, and she wrenches and jerks at the cable with a power that threatens to tear her to pieces. as many men as can lay hold of the cable do so; they cling on to the boat with their legs round the thwarts; they give the hawser a couple of turns round the bollard--a timber head in the fore part of the boat used for towing purposes; a huge wave passes; the boat falls in the trough of the sea; as she falls the strain of the cable lessens; "haul, and with a will, my men, haul!" they get a fathom or two of cable in; the curling crest of a broken wave falls on board, almost smothering the men, and filling the boat; she droops and staggers under the weight of water; the men in her as they cling to the thwarts are up to their necks, the air-tight compartments in the boat lift her, the valves in the floor open, she empties herself in a few seconds; a huge short wave curls on, she rises to it, buoyant as ever; it catches her under the bows, throws her high in the air, as if it would turn her end-over-end; the men cling to the hawser for a breathless moment; it checks the boat, the wave breaks over the boat in a cloud of spray and foam; the boat drops; the men shake their heads free of the water; again a loud shout from the coxswain; "haul, haul, your hardest, my men, hand over hand!" they get in a few more feet of the strong rope, and so much nearer to their anchor; and then hold on with straining muscles for another dread struggle with the next huge sea; hardly time for a few quick breaths, and here the sea comes, like a terrible monster, with shaking mane and gnashing teeth; it foams along, gleaming out of the darkness and straightly leaps upon them; and thus amid all the wild turmoil of the raging breakers, with the boat thrown violently here and there in the might of the seas, with the waves breaking over her in such quick succession that the men can scarcely find time to breathe, does the fight go on in order to recover the anchor and cable; the men had no thought of themselves; they had but to cut the cable and run before the gale, and the fierce strife would be over; no! they must, at all costs, recover the anchor and cable, or they will not be able to save the crew, and they will fight and wrestle for it to the end. at last the cable shortens, another pull and the boat is right over the anchor, she lifts on a sea, the anchor is torn from its hold, and lifts with her: in with it, make it fast, hoist the sails, the boat's head pays round, and she is again steered for the wreck. as the boat runs before the wind and seas, the men, who are thoroughly exhausted, have a few minutes of comparative rest. the time occupied by the life-boat men in recovering their anchor has been a dread time indeed, for the poor shipwrecked crew. with their shattered and slowly-sinking vessel staggering and shuddering beneath their feet, the heavy seas thundering against her and breaking over her, each one threatening to be the final one which shall sweep them all to destruction; the men seemed to be each moment on the verge of death. the storm howls around them, their only ray of hope proceeds from the life-boat light, which shines feebly through the mist, and suddenly the boat has halted short in her course towards them; why, they can scarcely understand; but one thing they are sure of, that it is no failing courage on the part of the men; it is impossible that they should be left to perish in their distress. their one effort now is to keep the tar-barrel in full blaze, and cruelly the wind and seas seem to do their utmost to destroy this their last hope, and leave them without the signal which alone can guide the life-boat to their rescue. fullarton, poor fellow, is working with an excited energy, burning in the barrel everything that he can lay hands on, that is at all likely to feed the flame. he had left home a few days before, so full of hope and joy, and glad anticipation; they had had bad weather, and anxious watches, and sleepless nights since they sailed, and now the poor fellow is almost overwrought by work and watching, and broken down with dread anxiety. "it is not for myself so much, not for myself, as for my poor girl," he says to his mates; they, kind fellows, amid their own cares and anxieties, and memories, and fears, do what they can to cheer him up. now as the life-boat comes rushing in through the seething seas, and breaks out from the darkness into the light of the fire which they succeed in keeping burning on the deck of the schooner, it is fullarton's voice that is heard in piercing tones above the roar of the gale. "be as quick as you can! be as quick as you can! we are sinking fast." yes! it is very evident that the vessel must soon founder; the wild seas are rushing over her; her deck is almost level with the surface of the water; at any moment she may refuse to lift to the rise of the sea, and with one plunge sink bodily down. the coxswain of the life-boat sees that the schooner is still drifting, and decides upon not anchoring the boat, but tries to run alongside the wreck, which is being kept head to the seas and wind by the drag of her chains. the boat runs alongside within a few feet; the grappling-irons are thrown on board, they catch in the gunwale of the wreck, the boatmen take turns with the lines round the thwarts, and begin to haul the boat slowly up to the wreck; it is hazardous work, for she is deeply laden with coals, and is half full of water; she is buried in the seas, and labouring very heavily; the men are afraid that in the rush of some cross sea the boat will be tossed bodily on to the wreck. the boat lifts up on the crest of a towering wave; there is a tremendous strain upon the stout grappling-lines, a moment's lull in the rush of the broken water. "haul in hard upon the lines, get her alongside, now, my men; sharp, my men!" the coxswain shouts; and then to the vessel's crew: "be ready to jump directly we are near enough!" "aye! aye! all right, all right!" the crew cry, excitedly, and crouch ready to spring upon the gunwale, and over into the boat. "be ready all! be ready all!" the coxswain again cries, as he tries to sheer the boat near enough for the men to jump on board. "now! now! stop! hold on, hold on all for your lives!" a tremendous breaker comes gliding on like a dark snow-crowned wall, deluges the men with the foam and spray that flies from its crest, lifts the boat in its strong grasp, the grappling-lines snap like threads, and the boat is swept on in the rush of the wave far away from the wreck; the boatmen look back, and in the glare of the signal-fire they can see the pale white faces of the despairing and terrified sailors, and as the boat is driven on through the dark wild seas, the cries of the poor fellows can be for some time heard penetrating the tumult of the storm. before the boat was driven away from the vessel, at the moment of the ropes parting, the coxswain, seeing that the boat would be carried away, shouted at the pitch of his voice, "have ropes ready!" the crew heard the words; and are consoled in the depth of their disappointment; they know that they are not to be deserted, that while ship and life-boat both last, attempt after attempt will be made for their rescue. but how long will the wreck float under them? this is the terrible question, and they call out, and this is the cry that the boatmen hear indistinctly: "we are sinking fast! we are sinking fast!" the swirl of the sea and the tide, and the force of the gale, drive the boat far away to leeward; the men hoist her sails again, heave her to, and then try to stay her, and make in again directly for the wreck; but she misses stays, as the seas come rushing over her, and they have to wear her round. they battle on, and are speedily ready for their third attempt, thankful to find that the poor labouring wreck is still afloat. they run the boat close under the schooner's port-quarter; the sailors are all ready with the required ropes; they throw one on board the boat, and the men in the boat succeed in throwing two strong lines on board the wreck; once more the order is to haul in close alongside. and again the boatmen see the white faces of the almost drowned and exhausted men light up with hope. fullarton especially is full of joy in the reaction of his feelings; he almost feels saved, and is very excited. cautiously the boatmen work, doing their utmost to prevent the boat being dashed against the wreck; now they are just alongside; two minutes more, and all are saved; no, a heavy sea comes foaming along, and as it breaks fills the boat and rushes over the ship, which staggers under its weight; the ropes which fasten the boat to the ship, jerk and wrench, but still hold; the boat lifts, clears herself of water, the men breathe again. another tremendous wave comes rushing along, another, and then several in quick succession; the men cling with all their force to the thwarts; heavy volumes of water beat down upon their backs; the boat plunges, and is wrestled here and there in the strong tumult of the waves; the ropes seem ready to tear the masts and thwarts to which they are fastened out of the boat; at last one rope parts; another gives the moment after; the boat rises on the crest of a wave, she heels over, the third rope breaks under the tremendous strain, the boat springs forward and is torn away from the vessel, and is rapidly swept away under her stern; a loud shriek is heard, it is from poor fullarton; the boatmen see him as he stands between them and the glare of the flame; he throws up his clasped hands in despair; the next moment he wildly rushes along the deck, for a second balances himself on the gunwale, crouches and springs with all his force towards the boat--a heavy thud; he hits the bow of the boat as she is driving away stern first; a cry from the boatmen, "man overboard!" as he sinks a huge wave rolls over him, and bears the boat farther away; jarman, the coxswain, seizes a life-buoy and jumps upon a thwart ready to throw it to the man when he rises; a blast of wind catches jarman, nearly tumbles him overboard, and throws him down into the bottom of the boat, wrenching the life-buoy from his hand; the drowning sailor is again lost to sight in the trough of the sea; he is swimming and struggling hard, but the boat, although without sails, is being driven faster than he can swim; the men see his wild desperate efforts, as he plunges and springs forward with outspread arms as if to grasp at the boat; he is lifted high on the crest of a wave; it curls him over, and with a cry he falls head first, and is buried in the trough of the sea; once more they make out his figure as he springs up on the top of a wave between them and the signal-fire; once again they hear his cry of despair, and he is lost to them, and to all dear to him on earth for ever. it is all over in a few seconds; the hardy boatmen shudder and feel sick at heart: so suddenly, so terribly, so swiftly has the strong man died; and to see their brother sailor thus perish within a few yards of them, beaten under by the boiling waves so quickly that they were utterly powerless to aid, is indeed, terrible to all. but not a moment is to be lost, any one of the mad seas which rush so continually over the wreck may founder her with its weight, or sweep the exhausted men out of her. the wreck cannot by any possibility float much longer; how can the men be saved? the life-boat is now right astern of the vessel, which is drifting slowly towards them; the seas run with such violence, swaying the wreck in one direction and the boat in another, that it is evidently useless to attempt to fasten the boat alongside the wreck, and the coxswain determines to adopt a new plan. the boat is right astern of the wreck, which is slowly drifting towards them; the coxswain of the boat will anchor the boat right in her path, and try to sheer alongside as she drifts past, and thus get the crew out of her. "over with the anchor; veer out as little cable as she will ride to; hold on, stand ready all!"--and they anxiously watch the approach of the wreck. on the wreck comes straight for them; the boats mizen sail is hauled flat to help the boat sheer out of the ship's way; they must manage skilfully or she will drive right over the life-boat; the helm is put hard up; the mizen catches the wind; the boat sheers, the wreck just misses her; the boat is close to her starboard quarter. down helm, and the boat sheers in close alongside, the men in the bow pay out the cable quickly to let the boat float alongside the ship, "jump when we near!" they cry to the crew; "jump for it! be steady, but do not lose a chance!" a sea throws the boat within a yard of the wreck, three men spring on board; a moment, and the next rush of sea sweeps the boat away and buries them all in foam. as the sea overruns the boat, the boatmen cling to the sailors who have sprung on board, to prevent their being washed out of her. "have we got all?" "no, only three, one is left!" "look out, then, my men; in we go again! the lee-tide is running very strongly--the cable is paying out fast."--"there is only about ten fathom of cable left," the men in the bow shout to the coxswain; he sheers the boat in, they can just make out the figure of a man at the stern of the vessel; they cry out to him: "be ready; 'tis your last chance; you must jump for your life; we shall hardly have time to come in again;" they close in alongside; a heavy sea knocks down the men in the bow who are paying out the rope; at that moment the man on the wreck makes a desperate leap for the boat, he falls among the men; the end of the cable runs out into the sea. "rope gone!" is the cry, but the man is saved; the ship is on the point of sinking, and they at once lose sight of her in the dark night. it is the captain who is last on board the boat; he looks round with thankfulness upon the life-boatmen and upon his saved crew: "but where is fullarton?" he asks. "the man who jumped for the boat when the ropes parted." "he fell short of the boat, and we could not save him," is the sad answer. "poor fellow, poor fellow! he was so terribly anxious, he could not wait. oh! that he had only waited with us! but he was almost in despair before the boat came, and seeing you break away the second time was too much for him." and afterwards he told them the drowned sailors piteous story--what a good fellow he was, and that it was because he was to be married upon his return home that he was so anxious, and felt life to be doubly dear to him. it is about seven o'clock in the morning; the day breaks wild and cold, and dismal as weather can well be. the faint light of the dawn scarcely makes its way through the thick clouds of flying spray and foam and half-frozen snow that drive fiercely along. a dread suggestive picture as witnessed from the cliffs on shore is that of the goodwin sands in a storm--the raging mountains of white surf springing high in the air, and breaking into clouds of spray, and the waves racing along the sands in foaming rollers, strong to sweep anything before them: to watch this from the shore at a distance of six miles is enough to make one shudder, so terrible a picture does it give of wild, hungry, irresistible power and rage, but what must it be for those who have to encounter this turbulent sea in the very thick of its strife; in a boat almost buried by the waves, clinging to the thwarts, the life half beaten out of them; and yet, hour after hour enduring all hardship, and sternly battling with all resistance--and all this the men in the life-boat have yet to endure. the boat is on the top of the south end of the sand, and in the fiercest strife of the wild sea, a foaming wilderness of water all around them; the waves seem mad in the very fury of their contest; they rear up and clash together with a roar and hiss; rush swiftly on; recoil as swiftly back; now meet others in their full onward swoop and contend for mastery; leap high in angry curling crests, then fall with thunder tones, but only to form in serried ranks, and rush swiftly again into the wild race and conflict. no ordinary boat could endure this for a minute, the first of these mad curling waves would engulf her at once; the life-boat alone can contend with such broken battling seas, and come out a victor from the strife. the men crowd aft that the boat may run better before the gale; they put oars out on each quarter to help the boat steer, and to prevent her broaching to, for if she does, the curl of the wave is so strong that she will be rolled over, and probably many of her crew and passengers lost, for although she would right again directly, all could not expect to get back to her in such a sea; she is full of water; the seas break over her in such quick succession, that she has no time to free herself, but she bounds on, and on, and soon, but not without much danger, the men escape from the broken water and reach the outer part of the sand. the boat is now put under fore-sail and mizen, both close reefed, hauled to the wind and pressed through the seas, to be certain of making the land, from which the gale is blowing so strongly. the boat heels over under the pressure of her canvas, one gunwale is buried in the seas; the rescued men have never been in a life-boat before, and feel much alarmed. "ah! geordie, man," says the captain to the mate, "this is queer sort of sailing; it's sailing under water altogether;" and the men afterwards confessed, that not knowing what a life-boat could do, they expected every moment that she would capsize, and felt themselves in almost as much danger in the boat as they had been on board the wreck. it takes the boat about an hour and a half of this hard driving through the seas to beat up against the gale and get near to the land; the men then find themselves not far from the south foreland light, between deal and dover. the ships in the downs are many of them in great danger, driving from their anchorage, and some with signals of distress flying. an english man-of-war is at anchor there; as the life-boat flies under her stern, the men on deck give a hearty cheer in honour of the warriors of the goodwin sands. a large dutch ship is next passed, all her crew crowd aft, and with much energy they also cheer the brave boatmen. some large deal luggers are cruising about; the men on board see with much surprise the flag flying at the life-boat mast-head, telling the tale of triumph, that a crew had been rescued; for they declared in speaking about it afterwards, that they thought it a mere impossibility to get a crew off the goodwin in such a night, and through such a terrific sea. the life-boatmen begin to be uneasy about the steamer; they saw her last about five in the morning, with the goodwin sands close under her lee, and facing the full force of the gale. they think that she will have run down the sands and be waiting for them; they put the boat about, and run out a little, hoping to meet her; after they have laid-to for about half an hour, waiting for the steamer, a heavy squall strikes the boat, and carries away her mizen-mast; they at once wear her head round to the land, and run into st. margaret's bay. the men fear that if they leave the protection of the high cliffs, the boat, as she is now partially disabled, may be blown over on the french coast by the force of the gale, and they therefore run down under the cliffs to dover. here they find further evidence of the terrible nature of the gale; ships are being towed into the harbour disabled; the sea is making a clean breach over the cross wall; part of the esplanade has been washed away, and the mail packets have been driven back in distress; hundreds of people, hiding in sheltered places, are watching the fury of the sea; they have for some time seen, with much interest, the gallant life-boat, with her flag flying, making for the harbour, and many come down the pier to welcome her. the life-boat, as she shoots round the head of the pier, meets the strong wind in all its force; she has lost her mizen-mast, anchor, cables, and has scarcely a spare fathom of rope left; she is fast being driven out again to sea, when they manage to get a rope to her from the pier, and many willing hands clap on, and tow her slowly along; in the meantime the harbour-master sends the steam-tug to her help, and the boat is soon safely moored in the inner harbour, and the men who have for so many hours encountered such great hardship and peril are once more upon dry land. the shipwrecked crew are well cared for by the agent of the shipwrecked mariners' society; the life-boatmen go to the sailors' home, and under the influence of a hearty welcome and substantial cheer, speedily recover from the effects of their long exposure and fatigue. the coxswain hastens to telegraph to the authorities at ramsgate the safe arrival of the life-boat at dover, and there is great satisfaction felt there at the assurance of the boat's safety. while the life-boat was in among the breakers, battling with the seas, and disentombing, we may almost say, the terrified sailors from the hungry grave which yawned around them, the steamer kept her ground, as near as possible to where the captain thought the life-boat was at work, and just clear of the surf. they waited hour after hour, but no signal came from that fierce battle-field; the hoarse blast of the storm, the many-voiced roar of waters, overwhelmed all other sound; the darkness of the night, the clouds of sleet and foam engulfed all in gloom. the crew of the steamer waited on in much anxiety, and not free from great peril. the daylight broke, a grey flood of misty light rolled back the greater darkness, but they could see no signs of the life-boat; they could make out by-and-by a few spars tossing wildly among the leaping seas and a tangled portion of wreck; they steam in as near to it as they dare, and with their glasses watch closely every shadow, or spar, or mass of wreckage, but see no signs of life; the sea is silent as to the fate of the crew, and after a careful and vain search, the captain of the steamer, feeling sure that if the life-boat has succeeded in getting clear of the sands, she must have been forced by the gale to run to dover for shelter, he determines to make the best of his way there. jarman, the life-boat coxswain, sees the steamer making for the harbour, and hastens to the pierhead; one wave of his arm tells the whole story of success and safety. the crew of the life-boat and of the steamer alike realize the responsibility of their work, that it is indeed one of life and death--that they must not be out of the way when wanted if they can help it; for that any delay may be fatal to some dying crew, who are perhaps straining their eyes in vain searchings for their one earthly hope, the life-boat. all hands at once prepare for their return to ramsgate; back round the stormy south foreland again; and home to be greeted, as such conquering heroes should be greeted, with smiles of welcome from hundreds of faces brightening up with hearty sympathy, and with ringing cheers that tell alike of admiration for courage, and of gladness for their return; cheers that know no reserve, as they welcome those who come triumphant from the battle-field--cheers for those who come not from death-dealing, in however good a cause, but from life-saving--leaving none to echo their shouts of victory with the wailings of defeat. the following letter will prove an apt and not uninteresting conclusion to the story, as it expresses the deep gratitude of the men who were saved, and gives in simple heartfelt language their tribute of thanks, and their declaration of admiration for the gallant and self-denying efforts by which their rescue from otherwise certain death had been so nobly effected. "_119 church st., north shields. capt. shaw, harbour-master, ramsgate._ "dear sir, "i, the undersigned master, and likewise the crew of the _mary_, which were saved by the gallant coxswain, mr. jarman, and his crew on the morning of the 21st inst., which i do believe to be unrivalled, for my idea is they used every effort to save the young man which was drowned, but it was in vain; we all beg to return a vote of thanks to mr. jarman and his crew; likewise to you, dear sir, which has everything in such order and discipline for the rescue of life; and may the lord bless them all, and look over them, when trying their uttermost efforts to rescue their fellow-men from a watery grave! i cannot express my feelings good enough to reward the brave fellows' attendance. my love to them all, and i will make a letter appear in the public press after i get myself settled, therefore i beg to conclude." "from your grateful friend, "william foreman, master. "c. h. moore, mate. "joseph collins, carpenter. "thomas atchinson, a. b." to which letter the harbour-master returned answer, stating how gratifying it was to all connected with the life-boat and steam-tug that such gallant and skilful exertions should have reaped such success; the sympathy and great regret that was felt for the loss of their young shipmate; and that there were at ramsgate, at all times both by day and night, gallant boatmen ready and willing to risk their lives when called upon to perform such perilous undertakings. and, readers, can we do better than often, and especially when gales are abroad, echo the prayer offered for the life-boatmen by the rescued master of the _mary_.--"the lord bless them all, and look over them when trying to rescue their fellow-men from a watery grave!" chapter xv. deal beach. "then courage, all brave mariners, and never be dismay'd, while we have bold adventurers, we ne'er shall want a trade; our merchants will employ us to fetch them wealth, we know; then be bold--work for gold, when the stormy winds do blow." _m. parker._ few places in the world, if any, have proved the scene of more daring sailor-life than deal beach. generation after generation of boatmen have passed away, having spent their lives, from early boyhood, in continuous strife with the swift tide, strong seas, and rolling surf that race through the channels off deal, and break upon the goodwin, or upon the shingle beach. other antagonists the old days used to provide, and the young men's hands grew hard with handling the bow, or spear, or javelin, or the musket, cutlass, or boarding-pike, as well as with handling the tiller and the ropes. in the days of old, the northern sea kings were, to the east coast of england, like clouds on the horizon, ever threatening a storm, but without any indication as to where the storm would break. the coast of kent was especially open to their attacks; they came down like wolves on the fold; a bright sunny morning, a bowling northerly breeze, a few specks on the horizon standing out darkly with the clear dawn behind them. a few hours, and the norsemen were at work; a fishing-village, wrecked and half buried in ruins, some of its stout defenders lying gashed and ghastly among its smoking embers; trembling fugitives still hurrying inland with a few of their lighter and more treasured goods, and the marauders holding swift and triumphant debauch upon the shore, as with rude cries of mirth and victory, they prepare to start seaward again before time can be found to gather forces to make any attack upon them, or any efforts can be made to regain the plunder the hardy robbers have obtained, or to revenge the slaughter they have worked. the romans, when they were lords of the land, felt the necessity of resisting these roving sea kings in a determined and organised manner; they formed nine military stations along the coast, and placed all under the command of an officer, to whom they gave the sounding title of count of the saxon shore. four of these stations were in kent--reculver, richborough, dover, and lymne. remains of the roman fortifications still bear witness that they were intended in defence from an enemy whose power was not lightly esteemed. this military organisation of the romans was afterwards developed into the establishment of the cinque ports and their respective members, the jurisdiction of which embraced a coast line from reculver to hastings. the inhabitants of the cinque ports well earned and fully obtained great honour in the old days. the free men of the ports were styled barons, and held rank among the nobility of the kingdom. they stood the vanguard of defence against all england's continental enemies, and their service is thus described by mr. boys in his 'history of sandwich': "the inhabitants were always on the watch to prevent invasion; their militia were in constant readiness for action, and their vessels stout and warlike, so that, in edward the first's time, they alone equipped a fleet of one hundred sail, and gave such a blow to the maritime power of france as to clear the channel of those restless and insidious invaders. the state depended upon them for the safety of its coast-line and towns, and their services went by no means unrewarded; an encouragement they had always been accustomed to receive, and this for commercial as well as for warlike enterprise, as by the wisdom of our saxon ancestors, a merchant who had at his own expense three times freighted vessels with home produce was entitled to the rank of thane or baron. the barons of the cinque ports walked in procession at the coronations of the kings and queens, and at the feast of the coronation had an especial table allotted to them in westminster hall at the right of the king; this privilege was preserved up to the time of the coronation of george the third." all this is evident and sufficient testimony of the nature and extent of the services of our coast heroes in defence of their country; and still the enterprise and daring continue, and bold, vigilant warfare goes on, although defence against a foreign foe has long ceased to be its first consideration. in later times, indeed, the revenue officers unfortunately, and to no small extent, took the place of the foreign foe in the minds and labours of by no means a few of the boatmen and inhabitants of these towns situated so conveniently adjacent to the continent; and the enterprise and labours of the boatmen were no less daring, if less patriotic than in former days, and smuggling was elevated into as organized a business as fishing is now: one writer rather quaintly remarks, "yet even this smuggling is not without its utility, for however the revenue may suffer, it gives birth to a very intrepid race of seamen, who are of the greatest service in relieving others from the dangers which befall shipping on this coast in bad weather." certainly the boatmen of deal beach are not now, and probably never have been, surpassed for skill and daring. if they can by any possibility get their famous luggers out to sea, no hurricane daunts them; their splendid boats glide over the seas, escaping the broken water--now high on the wave, now buried in the trough--and look like so many strong-winged gulls, as they seem almost to play with the storm. falconer, in his 'shipwreck,' pays the following tribute to the skill and courage of the boatmen: "where e'er in ambush lurks the fatal sands, they claim the danger, proud of skilful bands! for while, with darkling course, the vessels sweep the winding shore, or plough the faithless deep; or bar, or shelf, the watery path they sound with dexterous arm, sagacious of the ground. ceaseless they combat every hostile wind, wheeling in mazy track with course inclined; expert to moor where terrors line the road, or win the anchor from its dark abode." let us take a peep at deal beach, and try to realize some of the scenes that are there to be witnessed. suppose a fine clear winter's day. a gentle south-westerly breeze has been blowing on and off for several days; many ships have found their way out of the thames, or have beaten down helped by the tides from the north sea, and having reached the downs there ride safely at anchor; the ships-boats, or the galley punts, as the small deal boats are called, are doing the little work that is to be done, and the large luggers are drawn high upon the beach. the boatmen are lounging about the beach here and there, or they are smoothing the shingle down with shovels, where the tide has heaped it up, to give the luggers a fair run down into the sea in the event of their being wanted; tanned sails are spread abroad upon the shingle drying, women hang about knitting and watching the ships at anchor for any signal for a boat; at times there is a move down the beach to help a boat that is coming ashore out of the surf and to drag it up high and dry. the wind gets a slant to the south-east as the tide ebbs, and at once all are alert in the fleet of ships at anchor in the downs, that have been waiting for a fair breeze. there is a hurry to the beach of all officers, sailors, or passengers that may be ashore; the last supply of fresh provisions is taken on board those ships on which the captain can afford to be luxurious: you can hear the orders shouted, the capstans at work; jibs are set, topsails loosened, the anchors got up and catted, the sails let fall, and away the ships go down channel; a fresh northerly breeze bowls along and lasts some days, the outward bound ships go flying through the downs with top-gallant sails set; and except that they land a few pilots, there is nothing whatever for the deal men to do. at last a change of weather promises, the homeward-bound are to have a turn; the outward-bound must anchor in the downs and wait a while. the french coast shows out clearly, the gulls are whirling about uttering shrill plaintive cries; the boatmen watch the sunset, greyish white streaky clouds are gathering in the west, the sun looks _sheer_, is the boatmen's word for it, and as the long rays of light break through the clouds--ah! yes, we shall have a change of wind and weather. "the sun is setting up his backstays." "bright _skies_ make dirty ways;" and before daylight closes the men overhaul their luggers and see that everything is ready for a sudden start, should their services be needed. a mizzling rain comes on, the wind is round to the westward and freshening; some of the vessels which have been among the last to pass deal bound to the southward, give up the hope of getting down channel in the face of the freshening breeze, and return to find anchorage in the downs. it is a likely night for work, and the boatmen get ready for a cruise; everything is prepared to launch one of the large luggers; she is now drawn up high upon the beach; her crew of fifteen men hasten to get ready for sea. it is a dark and squally winter's morning, about one o'clock; fourteen of the men are now on board, each at his station; one man stands ready to cut the lashing of the stop which holds the boat in position on the ways; they wait till a squall passes; the word is given, the lashing cut, the man springs to the gunwale of the boat, and climbs on board. scarcely has he tumbled over the side when the boat rushes down the greased ways and is launched into the surf; the mizen is already set, the foresail is hoisted with all speed, and the boat speeds on her way seaward. as the day comes the breeze freshens, and many luggers are cruising about, speaking the vessels at anchor, or the vessels running through the downs, ready to offer any assistance in their power; upon some of the vessels they put men to pilot them into ramsgate harbour, or round the north foreland into the margate roads. or if the wind has blown heavily, there will be generally some vessels that have lost their anchors and cables, and the boatmen will receive orders to supply fresh ones. there is sometimes a degree of surprise expressed at the amount claimed by a boat's crew for taking an anchor and cable off to a vessel in distress; it requires some knowledge of the work to appreciate its danger, and how hardly and well the money awarded is generally earned. consider, as an example, the case of the _albion_ lugger, as it happened during the gale, some of the incidents of which we are about to relate. the _albion_ during her cruise meets with a vessel which is driving before the increasing storm; she has lost both her anchors and cables, and the lugger receives orders to supply her from the shore; the hardy crew receive the order gladly, put the lugger round, and beat through the heavy seas, making for deal. they have to force the boat against wind and tide, and much skill is required to prevent her being filled by the rising seas which sweep around her; now she rushes upon the beach, the surf breaks over her and half fills her with water; with a tremendous thump and shake, she strikes the shore with her iron keel. as the wave which bore the lugger in upon the beach recedes, a man springs overboard from the bow with a rope in his hand; many catch hold of the rope, and haul their hardest to keep the boat straight, head on to the beach; there is a stem strap--a chain running through a hole in the front part of the keel; a boatman watches his opportunity, and as a wave sweeps back, rushes down and passes a rope through the loop of the strap; the other end of this rope is fastened to a powerful capstan, which is placed high up on the beach. "man the capstan! heave with a will," and the strong men strain at the capstan bars until the capstan creaks again. there is no starting the lugger; she is so full of water from the surf breaking on the beach, that she is too heavy for the men at one capstan to move her; ropes are led down from two other capstans, and rove through a snatch block fastened to a boat on the beach; all put out their strength, round they tramp with a "ho! heave ho!" and slowly the lugger travels up the beach, and is safe from the roll of the breakers. the men get the water out of her, haul her higher up on to a swivel platform, turn her round head to the sea, and the leading hands hurry away to inquire about an anchor and cable. the agent supplies them with such as seem suitable for the size of the vessel, and which will perhaps weigh together about seven tons. there is no small amount of labour attached to getting the anchor and chain cable on board the lugger, but in a short time all are again ready for sea. the gale has rapidly increased in force, and a frightful surf is running on the beach; the roar of the breakers on the shingle, the howling of the storm, the gleam of white foam, shining out of the mist and gloom, all picture the wildness of the storm, but the undaunted boatmen do not hesitate; all is ready, the signal given, the boat rushes down the steep ways, and is launched into the sea. a breaking wave rolls in swiftly, it meets the bow of the lugger in its rush, fills her; for a moment the big boat runs under water, and then is lifted and twisted like a toy in the grasp of the sea, and is thrown in the heave of the wave broadside on to the beach; a cry of horror from all on shore, and a rush down to aid the crew, who are all--there are fifteen of them--struggling in the surf; now the men are washed up by the wave, and feel the ground, and stagger forward; now they are caught again by a breaker and rolled over; it is for each of them a terrible battle with the fierce seas; here, one gets on his feet and stumbles forward, he is caught by the men on shore and dragged up the beach; there, a man is lying struggling on the shingle, trying in vain to rise, exhausted and confused; two men seize his collar and pull him forward a yard or two, then get him to his feet, and he escapes the next wave, which would have washed him out to sea again. now all the men seem to be saved; names are shouted--do all answer? no! there is one missing; all rush to the water's edge, and gaze into the darkness; eagerly watching each shadow mid the surf; there he is! no! yes it is! there lifting on the surf; there rolling over: "quick, quick, form a line!" and the brave boatmen grasp each other's hands with iron strength and form a chain, the lowest of the four or five men at the sea end of the chain being in the water; the waves battle with them, but sturdily they persevere; at last the body is within the reach of the seaward man, he grasps it, the men are dragged up the beach, and the poor insensible man is carried ashore. alive? or dead? they cannot say, and with a great fear in their hearts they carry him hurriedly up the beach, and soon, to the great joy of all, he gives signs of life, and gradually recovers. in the meanwhile the poor boatmen on the beach have nothing that they can do, but watch their fine boat, which was worth five hundred pounds, being torn, and hammered to pieces in the surf, plank after plank is wrenched from her, now with a loud crash she is broken in half, the two halves part, the anchor and cable fall through her, they can see part of the fore-peak with one side torn away, floating in the breakers; soon that also is rent to pieces, and nothing but fragments of the boat float in the surf, or are strewn about the beach, and the boatmen, heavy-hearted, but thankful that they have escaped with their lives, go slowly to their homes, to rest for a few hours, and recruit their strength, and then to be ready to form part of the crew of any other boat, and at the first summons to rush out again to the encounter with the stormiest seas. in a narrative of adventure and conflict with the seas that rage over the goodwin sands, it would not be well to refrain from bearing testimony to how readily, how gallantly, the men of deal, of broadstairs, of walmer, and of kingsdown, as well as of ramsgate, man their respective life-boats, whenever the call is made for their services, and race out to the scene of action, full of hardihood, of skill, of courage--true storm warriors, ever ready to dare all and do all that they may rescue the drowning from a watery grave. chapter xvi. the loss of the "linda," and the race to the rescue. "a sudden crash, the mast is gone, and with it goes all hope; no longer can the fated crew with the surging waters cope. "now they commit their souls to god, as men about to die; for vain seems all the help of man in this extremity." _g. ward._ at daylight, in the morning after the destruction of the _albion_ lugger, the weather grows worse and worse; the grey misty gloom that hangs over the sea is scarcely broken by the swift gleams of light that find a faint way through the fast drifting clouds. and the weather continues to grow more tempestuous still as the night grows on. many ships come scudding northward before the gale; they make the south sand head light, and steer their course for the narrow gull channel that runs between the goodwin and brake sands. the south sands head light-ship is moored at the southern extremity of the goodwin sands; it is about three miles from the south foreland light. in thick misty weather, which so often prevails in the channel during westerly gales in winter time, it is often very difficult for vessels to make either of these lights. and as the edge of the goodwin sands is very steep at this part, and has deep water close to it, keeping the lead going scarcely affords sufficient protection, for between two casts of the lead a vessel running fast may well pass out of deep water on to the sands, and there be lost. so it often happens that vessels running through the downs in such weather, suddenly find themselves in a position of great peril. on the night in question, the men on board the light-ship keep an especially vigilant watch, as the darkness of the night adds to the gloom which spreads its folds over the raging sea, and the direction and force of the wind, and the many ships that are flying before the gale, suggest the probability of disaster. about midnight, the men on watch make out, in the lift of the mist, a fine brig not far from them, driving before the gale, and making straight for the sands; the alarm is given, and a gun at once fired to give the unfortunate crew warning of their danger. the look-out men fancy, by the changing of the position of the brig's lights, that the crew are making an effort to alter the vessel's course, and to weather the sands; but it is too late! nothing can save her! the crew of the light-ship lose sight of her in the darkness, and make all ready to signal for the life-boat to come to the rescue of her crew; they wait a minute or two, watching, in the direction they think the brig must strike, for the usual signals of distress, and almost immediately see the bright flare of a tar-barrel; they fire a signal-gun from the light-ship, and its warning voice booms loudly above the storm; then they send up rockets; the shipwrecked are thus encouraged to hope, while the ready boatmen on shore are called to action. the signals are seen at the walmer life-boat station, one mile from deal; and at the kingsdown station, three miles from deal; at both places the call is promptly and eagerly obeyed; the life-boats are got ready with all haste; they are speedily manned and launched, and struggle their way through the boiling surf, which is rolling upon the beach. they spread all the canvas they can stagger under, and the two boats fly before the gale straight for the light-ship; there they learn the position in which the signals of distress were seen, and cruise round the edge of the goodwin in all the fierce tumble of sea, and skirt the ring of surf which marks where the rollers are breaking with terrible force upon the sands; but they can obtain no guide, no clue to where the wreck is; no signal light shines out of that drear darkness pleading for help, and no sound can the men hear, listen as they will, other than the ceaseless roar of the storm. still the brave boatmen will not abandon the search, and for some hours the boats continue their vain efforts. the crew of the kingsdown boat determine at last that further search is useless, and as it is not possible for them to beat back to their distant station in the teeth of the gale, they run for ramsgate, arriving there just before dawn. the walmer boat continues cruising in the neighbourhood of the sands until after daylight, when her crew, seeing no signs of the wreck, also determine to make for the shore. the seas have been steadily increasing in violence, and are now running very high, and as they curl and break, the crest of each wave is caught by the fierce wind, and dispersed in a cloud of spray. bravely the boat sails on through the troubled seas; she is constantly overrun by the waves, and filled with water, but each time she speedily regains all her buoyancy, and bounds on over the seas. the men have almost too much confidence in her, as if no amount of sea and wind could possibly capsize her; they carry on a press of canvas, until the stout masts bend and the ropes strain again, and they make the sheet fast; but now a fierce huge wave comes rushing along, catches the boat broadside on, lifts the boat high on its crest, and then completely curls her over and passes, leaving the boat capsized, and all the men struggling in the water. but it is however only a passing victory, after all, that the sea can boast over the life-boat; at once she rights herself, gets rid of the water that fills her, and rides upon the seas as bravely as ever. happily all the men have on their cork jackets, and in them they float breast high; never was there such a wild dance as they now seem to dance; tossed high and poised for a moment on the cone of a leaping wave, again engulfed in the hollow trough of a sea, with a wall of tumbling water all around; rising and falling in quick succession, their arms beating broken time as they struggle to swim towards the boat, which begins to drift fast away; it is fortunate that some of the men have retained hold of the life-lines, the ends of which are fastened to the boat, by these they haul themselves alongside her, and all soon succeed in getting on board. away again through the downs, across the high rolling seas, making for the shore, but their troubles are not yet at an end; a blast of wind, fiercer than its fellows, strikes the sail, the boat careens over; at that moment a huge wave leaps on the boat, strikes it with such force and so high, that it fills the sail with water and drives the boat bodily over, and the second time she is capsized, and the men, before they have recovered from the exhaustion caused by their former struggle, are the second time plunged into the sea, to find themselves battling for their lives with the waves. the cork jackets keep them afloat as before, but the waves run over them, and they are almost smothered in clouds of foam, until they are thoroughly worn out by the rush and beat of the seas which break over their heads. up and down, tumbling here and there in the turmoil of the seas, pale and gasping for breath, almost too faint to make any struggle to regain the boat, becoming rapidly unconscious; this time the wild dance mid the raging seas becomes truly too much like a dance of death. happily a powerful deal lugger is near the scene of the disaster; her crew at once do their best to pick up and return to the life-boat those of the men who are themselves unable to gain it. the life-boat, self-righted, is floating high on the waves quite ready for action as soon as her crew can again take charge of her, and speed her on in her course. the men are, at last, all once more on board, the boat is again got under weigh, and speeds safely to the land. but how, all this while, fared the unfortunate crew of the vessel, in the vain effort to render assistance to whom the life-boat men had incurred such hardship and peril. the unfortunate ship was the brig _linda_: the captain fancied the ship was in a safe course, free from any immediate danger; the storm fog was too thick for them to see the land, or any of the numerous signal lights that guard the coast, but they kept the lead going, and sped on before the gale; suddenly all hands are alike startled and terrified by the loud report of a gun fired quite close to them, and at seeing the light of a light-vessel very near; they at once realize their danger, for they know that the dread goodwin sands must be right under their lee; with frantic haste they attempt to wear the ship, but it is too late; as she feels the helm she plunges in among the surf, crashes upon the sands, and the great seas begin to fly over her; the ship must be lost, it is beyond all hope that she can be saved; is there any hope for the crew? they will not despair, or be lost without making what small efforts they are able to obtain assistance; they know, from the violence with which the ship rises and thumps upon the sands, that she must very speedily go to pieces. they get a tar-barrel, fill it with canvas, grease, and rags, light it, and have the satisfaction of seeing it flare up with a brilliant flame; that, at all events, must sufficiently penetrate the surrounding darkness and gloom to make known their distress to the neighbouring light-vessel. again, and almost immediately, they hear the loud boom of the gun; but as previously it seemed to them the signal of death, so now it affords them a faint--a very faint hope; rockets too are fired by the light-vessel; surely the signals will be heard and seen on shore, and the life-boat will come out in search of them; but where will they be then? there is no time--no time; the seas are washing over the deck, the fierce fire of the tar-barrel is at once extinguished, and the men hasten to take refuge from the sweeping seas in the cross-trees and shrouds of the masts. seven men spring to the foremast shrouds, and climb to the cross-trees, the captain and four men cling to the mainmast; time after time the vessel lifts and falls with a crash that wrenches her from stem to stern, and makes all her timbers groan and rend, and nearly shakes the sailors from their hold. now the ship begins to work and writhe, the timbers break with loud reports, planks are wrenched from her side in the fierce tear of the sea, stout iron bolts are torn from their hold and twisted like so much thread--the ship is breaking up fast; the masts sway about, the men have to hold on their hardest to prevent being shaken into the sea, so are they tossed and swung about in the roll of the mast and the sway of the vessel. each wave leaping higher than those that have gone before, seems to claim them for its prey; everything on the deck is swept away; the deck itself opens, the water gets down into the hold, and soon the deck breaks up, and pieces float away in the wash of the sea; the bulwarks are torn off, and now a piece of the side of the vessel is wrenched away; the vessel must be torn to fragments in a few short minutes, and death seems very near to all the crew. a tremendous wave rushes over the wreck, a crash louder than a thunder peal; the foremast has broken off close to the deck, it falls over; a few loud despairing cries, and the seven poor fellows who clung to the mast are hurled into the sea, and are at once lost in the wild rage of water. the five men on the mainmast shudder in their terror and despair, and cling closer and closer to the mast as it sways and jerks from side to side; there may be a few minutes yet to live; they think of home and wife and children, and hold on the more convulsively while the seas break over them with increasing violence; it takes but a short time, and the wreck beneath them seems in absolute fragments; the poop-deck is wrenched up, and a large piece of it is torn away; at the next sea the wreck heels over, the mainmast is carried away, and the captain and the four men are hurled from it into the sea; the captain is thrown against a large fragment of deck with such force that both his legs are broken; he, however, manages to hold on to the piece of wreck, the other four men are also swept to it, and there cling; they find themselves surrounded by the hundred fragments of wreck into which the stout brig has been so rapidly torn. the tide sweeps away the piece of deck to which the five men are so desperately clinging--away from the scene of the sad, swift, tragedy, and, by god's mercy, into an eddy of the current away from the surf and breakers which are thundering down in all their fury upon the sands, and which would have swept the poor sailors at once to destruction if their frail raft had come within their reach. away in the rough but not now broken seas the men are borne, their only hope the shattered, heaving piece of wreck that forms their raft; the horrors of the dark night are added to by the roar of the breakers as they crash down upon the sands, and the poor sailors know not but that at any moment they may be met by some fresh eddy of the swift tide, and swept into the midst of that fatal surf. the fierce gale howls over them, the men are exhausted and hopeless, but they manage to lash the captain to the piece of wreck, his two broken legs make him faint and sick with agony; and on and on they float during the long dreary hours of the night. they pass the gull light-ship, watch its bright and, to them, mocking light, then they are carried to the north-east of the sands; there they meet the changing tide, and it sets them to the southward, and, to their great joy, away from the fatal goodwin, away in the direction of calais, the seas still wash over them. the agony of the captain is almost unendurable, as every wash of the sea, every heave of the frail piece of wreck jars his broken legs; the men have their nails torn from their fingers with the desperate energy with which they clutch the smooth timbers of the piece of deck on which they are lying. hour after hour passes, and for fifteen hours they thus float about, cold and wet, and wounded, and faint with hunger and thirst; the poor fellows become almost unconscious, and can only just manage to hold on mechanically to their frail support; the morning passes, and they have no energy to look for a passing sail, and no means of signalling if they saw one. suddenly a loud shout surprises them, and they lift their heads and see, with boundless joy, a large cutter almost alongside the raft; they seem called back from death, and begin to arouse themselves from the swoon into which they were all so rapidly sinking. the cutter is a pilot-boat from antwerp; they are got on board her not without much difficulty, so helpless are they, and so high is the sea still running; the kind-hearted belgians have every pity for the most miserable condition of the poor men, and do all they can to restore them; as soon as possible the pilots land them at deal, and they are taken to the hospital and receive all possible medical care and attention; they soon revive, the captain's broken limbs are set, and he ultimately recovers; and while they mourn over the sad loss of their comrades, they cannot feel too much wonder, or be too deeply thankful, for their own most marvellous escape. chapter xvii. the rescue of the crew of the "amoor." "no wild hurrahs accompany the deeds these men do dare; no beat of drum, no martial strain, no spirit stirring air. "but in the cold and darksome night they combat with the blast; and gain, by dint of hardihood, the victory at last. "then let us pay the honour due to such devoted strife; where gallant men so nobly risk for fellow men their life." _g. ward._ we left, in our last chapter, the kingsdown life-boat making for ramsgate harbour, and the walmer life-boat, after a couple of upsets, making for deal beach. the kingsdown boat reached ramsgate about seven o'clock in the morning, the gale still blowing very heavily. shortly after seven o'clock signals are heard from the gull light-ship; and the coxswain of the ramsgate life-boat receives orders from the harbour-master to proceed at once to sea,--the steamer as usual taking her in tow: the sea is very heavy, and the air thick with rain and spray. the steamer and life-boat work their way out through the storm, and find a brig riding at anchor in the gull stream, not far from the light-ship; she has a flag hoisted at her peak as a signal, and they make for her; the crew tell them, that shortly before, in a lift in the storm, they saw a ship on the north-west spit of the goodwin; the life-boat cruises in the direction pointed out, but the crew can see nothing of the wrecked vessel, so they proceed to the gull light-ship, hoping there to obtain further information. the men find the crew of the light-ship anxiously watching for their approach; they crowd aft as the steamer and life-boat passes under the stern of the vessel, and make signals to describe the position of the wreck; the boatmen soon discover it, and as soon as they have been towed into the right position for so doing, slip from the steamer, and make in for the stranded vessel. it is now nearly low tide. as they approach, they find that the wreck is high and dry on a ridge of sand: nearer still, and they see a man walking towards them on the sand, waving a large shawl; the life-boat is steered towards him, and choosing a place where the surf is breaking with less force, they run the boat on to the sands; three of the crew jump overboard and wade through the surf; they join the man on the sands, and make for the wreck; the heavy seas have driven the sands into high ridges, and the gullies between these are waist-deep and full of running water, with the sand soft and quick at the bottom; through these deep gullies the men have to wade. arriving at the wreck, they find it to be that of a brigantine, named the _amoor_. at about eleven o'clock of the night previous, in the dark mist and heavy gale, she had run on the sands at nearly high tide, the sea immediately ran over the vessel, and the crew had no time to make a single signal of distress, but had directly to climb up into the main rigging to prevent being washed overboard. fortunately the ship was stem on to the sands, with her stern to the wind and tide, and she kept straight--and as she was laden with coals, she kept upright on her keel. as the tide rose, the waves in their rush lifted the wreck and carried her gradually on and on, letting her fall after each lift with a heavy shock that made it difficult for the men to retain their hold. then the seas broke over her so heavily that the men feared that they would be washed even from their position in the main rigging, and managed to get on to the foremast; here they found more shelter. for about four miles did the ship thus beat over the sands, and the men felt, with a great and deep thankfulness, that if they had had the guidance of her themselves, they could not have kept her more straight in her course along the narrow high ridge of the sand than she was kept by god's providence, for if the vessel had been carried to the right or to the left of that narrow ridge of sand, she would have got into deep water, and then must have sunk immediately, so much was her hull shattered, and all her crew would of necessity have been at once drowned. but the agony of mind and the suspense endured this time by the men was something terrible. they could scarcely feel any hope that the wreck would long sustain the terrible shocks that she was receiving. they looked down upon the mad waves as they raced by, and each one seemed a ready grave; there was nothing to be done, no fierce struggle for life, which in its excitement should lessen the terrors of the apparently approaching death, only to cling on and wait in the darkness. and now they feel that the end must soon come, for they hear the surf roaring near; it is roaring on the edge of the sands, the waves rushing in from the deep water and breaking upon the sands, and this right in the path along which their vessel is being driven yard by yard. a little more and she must be plunged in this surf, and then a few yards, and she must sink in deep water; and as thousands upon thousands have earnestly prayed that they might be kept off these deadly sands, so these poor sailors now earnestly seek that they may be left on them, until daylight comes, and their pitiable position may be seen, and they have a chance of being saved. they are now within a quarter of a mile of the end of the sand, but the tide is falling rapidly, and the wreck lifts less and less; at last, to the great joy of all her crew, she grounds heavily and ceases to lift. she is swung round broadside to the tide, and falls over on her side, and then works and crashes almost to pieces. the water now soon leaves her, and she becomes high and dry, and speedily the men can leave the wreck and stand upon the sand; the surf rages around them at a short distance; it is only for a few hours that where they now stand will be dry, and then the sea will rage over the sand again with all its fury. the captain is a bold, active determined man; he will throw away no chance of safety; something must be done before the return of tide, and he will lose no time. the captain and crew can form no opinion as to where they are; the vessel is an absolute wreck, beaten by this time almost to fragments, they have no means of signalling their distress, and it seems that their only chance will be to make a raft out of the many shattered pieces of timber that are hanging about the wreck; the boats have long since been destroyed and washed away. the shipwrecked crew have only their knives to work with, but they commence with all energy, wrenching away the broken timbers from the deck and sides of the vessel, cutting away the ropes, lashing the timbers together. but with their utmost efforts they can make but slow progress, and they feel that their raft, when as hastily completed, as it must be, will be but a frail support in the rage of waters with which it will have to contend, as soon as the sea again beats over the sands; but still on that dry knoll of sand, in almost pitch darkness, with the wind howling by them, and the roar of the breaking waves all around, the men work on and on. the poor storm-beaten, wearied men, feel faint and exhausted, but spare no labour, slack no energy, for the tide will turn with the dawn, and then, as an enemy creeping up to destroy them, will, in its speedy advance, give them short time for labour, and scant mercy, when it once seizes them as its prey. the dawn has broken, the tide is rising, and each man is inspired to fresh exertions. suddenly, they are all startled by the loud report of a gun, fired at no great distance from them. what is it? what is it? they all cry. soon a rocket goes whizzing up into the grey misty clouds. is it a signal from some unfortunate vessel in distress similar to that which they are in? at all events that feeling of intense and hopeless solitude which almost overcame them, seemed disturbed, and whilst they eagerly work on, they at the same time keep a sharp look out in the direction from which the signals have been given; they are soon able to make out that it is a light-vessel that is signalling; this fills them with hope; they must have been seen by the watch on board, and it is on their account that the signal must have been made; but still they will not abate any of their efforts, the life-boat may not be able to reach them, or she may not be out in time to save them; at all events, with the tide creeping up as it is, they will not lose a chance, and go on busily constructing the raft. they have made considerable progress, having lashed a good many spars crosswise, and pieces of bulwark over them, when they discover a steamer's smoke not far off, and soon after make out a boat, which must be a life-boat, making in over the seas towards them; one man makes for the edge of the sands, and soon the boat grounds not far from him, and three boatmen wade towards him. the boatmen, when they reach the raft, find the men getting some provisions on to it, but all the stores have been under water during the night, and are spoilt. the joy of the shipwrecked men at the arrival of the boatmen is intense. "thank god! that you have come," said the captain; "i did not at all expect that any of us would have been alive this morning." a strange meeting it seems, in that wild stormy morning, there, on the centre of the goodwin sands, where the waves had raged so furiously a few hours before, and would in a few hours rage so furiously again; there, where the shipwrecked had expected to die a tragical death, the sailors and the boatmen stand greeting each other; the life-boatmen rejoicing almost as much at being there ready to save the poor sailors, as they are at the prospect of being saved; the ship's crew look down upon their raft, and feel indeed what a poor protection it must have proved in the storm which they would have had to encounter. the crew of the wrecked vessel, now that the excitement of working with such fierce energy at the raft is over, begin to feel the reaction, and feel thoroughly exhausted, and look so worn and weather beaten, as if the death shade, which had seemed to hover over them for so many hours, had left its impress upon the countenance of each. a few more words of greeting and thankfulness between the castaways and the rescuers, and all prepare to find their way across the sands to the life-boat. the life-boatmen first climb on board the wreck, to see if they can find any small things which they can save for the men, but every moveable thing seems to have been washed out of the vessel; they find the cabin broken and crushed up, but manage to drag a few of the captain's clothes out of it; they find a dog on board, which they save. and now all turn their backs upon the wreck. the shipwrecked sailors have become very feeble, and some of them are scarcely able to drag their limbs along, and require to be held up on both sides as they wade through the shallow channels of water, many of which they have to cross on their way to the boat. they hurry on as fast as they can, for the weather is very uncertain, and a mist or snow-squall coming on would put them in the greatest possible peril, for they would in that case very speedily be lost among the gullies, which are half filled with water, and which stretch in all directions across the sands at low water; and the boatmen know what it would be to be lost there; with the sand getting soft and quick beneath their feet as the tide rose, and with the narrowing belt of surf each moment drawing nearer and nearer, there to wander hopelessly for a short time, then to be scarcely able to move as the sands grew quick, and then to fall an easy prey to the fierce sweep of the first breaker that rolled in upon them. it is no wonder that the boatmen look with dread upon the increasing gloom of the morning, and hurry the men on as much as possible; they make out the life-boat, and with much difficulty and exertion they get to the edge of the sands. the life-boat is at anchor with ten fathoms of chain out; the heavy breakers are rolling in and lifting her with such violence as they sweep on, that at each lift she drags her anchor, and beats further and further over the spit of sand upon which the waves are expending their first fury. the surf flies over the boat, fills her, and then rages on in clouds of foam. the men on board are anxiously looking for the return of their comrades with the shipwrecked crew, and greatly rejoice as they see the groups of men struggling across the sands to the boat. they soon make out how exhausted the shipwrecked men are, and feel that it will be very hard work for them to wade through the surf to the boat. some of the boatmen get life lines ready to throw to any that may be overpowered and thrown down by the wind and tide, others jump overboard to go to the assistance of the enfeebled sailors. it is bitterly cold, and the water, as they wade through it, feels as if it would freeze them through and through; they bring off the shipwrecked crew one by one, the more exhausted of them being supported on both sides between two life-boat men; at last all are on board, but they cannot yet leave the sands; they must wait until the water is high enough to float the life-boat over the ridge which surrounds her. all are shivering with cold and wet; they crouch in the boat and protect themselves as well as they can from the flying surf; a long weary hour is thus passed; the tide rises sufficiently, sail is set, and the life-boat makes for the steam-boat, and is greeted with cheers--cheers that are heartily answered. the shipwrecked sailors, who had had during the night no hope of again giving a cry of joy on earth, join in as lustily as they can, in that cry which, sounding over the wild seas, tells of noble deeds in struggling to save life, and of happy and most blessed results. that although the storm still swept furiously by, and although the waves still rushed madly around the shipwrecked, that they were now safe in the safety afforded by the noble life-boat. so safe, indeed, that it was not too soon for the poor sailors to rejoice in their rescue, and to express with heartfelt cheer their gratitude to the brave men who had rescued them from their position of deadly peril. the steamer does not take long in towing the boat to ramsgate, where all receive the usual warm greeting, and the shipwrecked the needful care. the crew of the wrecked vessel, the _amoor_ of elswick, are germans; their consul takes care of them, and sends them to the sailors' home. they proved so thankful for the rescue effected, that they wrote to their home authorities, and the life-boat men soon received from the grand duke of mecklenburg schwerin an expression of gratitude and admiration for their conduct, accompanied by a silver medal, a certificate of merit, and ten shillings each man. chapter xviii. the rescue of the crew of the "effort"--the dangers of hovelling. "all where the eye delights, yet dreads to roam, the breaking billows cast the flying foam upon the billows rising; all the deep is restless change; the waves so swelled and steep, breaking and sinking; and the sunken swells, not one, one moment, in its station dwells." _crabbe._ the famous old life-boat _northumberland_ had done her work, and had done it nobly and well. staunch, and true, she had breasted the hardest gales, stemmed the fiercest seas, and had been the means of rescuing hundreds of perishing men, women, and children from that which, without her, and the brave hearts and strong hands that sailed her, must have been swift, certain, and terrible death; but at last her time had come--weather beaten, wrenched, and worn, with her thousand battles with the gales, she was condemned as being no longer to be intrusted with the precious lives that she contained, as she went forth to contend with the wild seas that rage over the goodwin sands. the _bradford_, a very powerful and excellent boat presented to the life-boat institution by the good people of bradford, and by the institution appointed to ramsgate, had not yet been sent down, and a smaller boat called the _little friend_ was occupying her place for the time. but it was a clear fine morning, with the waves fretting and fuming somewhat, but dancing and gleaming brightly in the sunshine; it had been squally during the night, and at times had blown very hard, but the morning promised better, and the life-boat was rocking gently at her moorings, no one thinking it likely that her services would be required for some time. but the boatmen must be doing something, if only drawing their bow at a venture, and now the _champion_ is getting ready for sea; she is one of the ramsgate hovelling-luggers, a noble boat of twenty-two tons, fit for any weather. in summer time she is fitted as a pleasure-boat, and, as such, takes many a holiday cruise; but now she is in winter gear, and ready for rougher scenes and harder work. the more threatening and heavy the weather, the greater the probability of disaster occurring, or having occurred, then the more ready are her crew to work their way out to the goodwin sands, and to cruise round them on the look-out for vessels in distress; they dare not take the lugger into the broken water--there a life-boat alone can live; but still she is a grand sea-boat, one that will stagger on with a ship's heavy anchor and chain on board, through weather bad enough for anything--a boat that is well suited for the hard and dangerous service which employs her during the winter months. her crew consists of ten men; the men get no regular pay, but any salvage or reward for services they may obtain is divided into fourteen shares: the boat takes three and a half shares for her owners, one half share goes to the provision account, as the crew when on board are supplied by the owners with provisions, and one share is given to each of the men--this is the ordinary arrangement. complaints are sometimes made of the amounts charged by these men for services rendered; but the cases of a good hovel are few and far between; and often the luggers put out to sea, night after night, throughout a stormy winter, hanging about the sands, in wind and rain, and snow and mists, the men half frozen with the cold, and half smothered with the flying surf and spray, and often week after week they thus suffer and endure, and do not make a penny-piece each man; working their hardest, without any other result, than that of getting more and more into debt at home, and almost tempted to become disheartened with it all, hardly able to hope against hope; then at last, perhaps, comes a chance--a big ship is on the tail of a sand bank; they render assistance and get her off; if she had remained there another tide she would probably have been knocked to pieces: they have saved thousands of pounds' worth of property; and the captain, and the owners, and the underwriters, all look aghast, and cry out with indignation, when they ask perhaps a sum that will give them ten or fifteen pounds a man--do something to pay the scores that have been growing month after month, something to requite them for the weary watching, and labour, and suffering, that they have had so many weeks in vain. no! let those who grumble at the demands made on such occasions, feel fully assured that they know many easier, more pleasant, and more profitable ways of making money, than by hovering around the goodwin sands throughout the nights of a stormy winter, on the look-out for vessels in distress. the following tale will illustrate, in its simple narration of actual facts, some of the dangers to which the men are exposed when on such service. on the morning in question a haze floated over the goodwin sands, preventing anything being made out from the shore; wherever the haze lifted a little, the men on the look-out on the pier closely watched the break in it with their glasses; for the channels on either side of the sands are so narrow and the tides so strong, that it is an easy matter for a ship-master to lose his bearings in thick weather, and to run his ship on the sands. a squall passes over the sands, driving the mists before it, and the men on the pier make out that a vessel is ashore on the goodwin; she is completely on her broadside, and the boatmen, looking through powerful glasses, can see that men are walking about on the side of the wreck. the harbour-master is immediately informed; he knows that the _champion_ lugger is out there, but the surf may be too great for her to be able to render assistance, and he gives directions that the life-boat shall be at once manned. the steamer soon takes the life-boat in tow, and they proceed through a comparatively smooth sea to the vessel. upon arriving there, they find that the _champion_ lugger has succeeded in sending in her small boat, and in taking the men off the wreck. but as the boat makes off to the lugger's she loses an oar, and the tide is running with such strength that the boat's crew cannot stem it, and are driven back in the direction of the sands; the life-boat men see the danger the boat will get into if she is carried into the broken water, and at once give chase. the men on board the lugger's boat are, not unnaturally, anxious to have the honour of saving the crew without the assistance of the life-boat, and they persevere in their efforts to reach the lugger; suddenly the wind flies round to the north-east, and a heavy squall sweeps along accompanied with snow and sleet; it becomes very thick and dark, the lugger's men think the squall will soon pass, and although their boat is only sixteen feet long, and has eleven men on board, they still work away striving to get back to the lugger. but the wind increases in force, and the sea begins to make rapidly, the little boat gets into shallow water and thumps heavily on the edge of the sand; then the boatmen and the shipwrecked crew realize the danger they are in. the wrecked sailors begin to shout to the life-boat men to come to their help, and the boat's crew see that they cannot get away from the sands by themselves; in fact, that without the aid of the life-boat they must all then and there perish, and they are glad to make for the life-boat with all speed. the sailors and some of the boat's crew get on board the life-boat, two or three hands remain in the small boat, which is taken in tow by the life-boat, and they start in search of the steamer; but the weather becomes more and more thick, and they can see nothing of her; in fact, can only see a few yards before them. now to their dismay they find that they have come away without a compass, and the wind has shifted so frequently and rapidly, that they cannot guess at its direction, and therefore cannot tell which way to steer; they are on the top of the sands, and in very shallow water, and the boat often touches the ground with a great jerk as she sails along. now, and again, she grounds bow on and is swung round and round by the tide. the tide as it is low water runs through so many channels and swatch ways that its direction does not at all help the men to tell the course they are steering; and so, as a mere matter of guess-work, and that they may keep the boat's head in one direction, they put her on the wind, and after being beaten about a good deal by the broken seas, succeed in getting into deep water; but not until they have been entangled for four hours among the sands. after sailing for about half an hour, they discover the gull light looming red out of the thick mist. they then soon make out the _champion_, and put her crew on board her. the lugger's men want the shipwrecked crew to accompany them, but they are too content with the life-boat, and refuse to move; the steamer comes up and takes the life-boat in tow. again the wrecked sailors cannot be persuaded to leave the life-boat for her, and as soon as the boat is in tow, and they are well under weigh, the wrecked sailors begin to tell their tale. "the name of our wrecked vessel is the _effort_; it is now several days since we sailed from the forth, bound for rotterdam, and ever since we have had a a terrible time of it, nothing but gale after gale, the wind flying about in all directions, until you can guess we were pretty well tired of all this beating about in the north sea; what with the wind driving us first in one direction and then in another--what with contrary tides and thick weather--we soon lost our reckoning, and must have been caught in the lee drift of the tide, and thus got carried on to the goodwin sands. we grounded heavily, at once felt the danger we were in, and hoisted lamps as signals of distress, but we knew that these could not be made out at any distance in such thick weather, and hurried to get a tar-barrel on deck to set fire to it, and make a good blaze; but our vessel was very light--she rolled from side to side almost yard arms under, and suddenly capsized altogether. at once, and with difficulty, we made for the weather-rigging, and were glad to find that not any of the crew were lost as she fell over. we lashed ourselves to the rigging. we knew to our great joy that the tide was falling; had it been rising we must have very soon been overrun by it, the vessel broken up, and every man of us lost. we were in danger enough as it was, for the brig soon after she capsized was caught by the tide, and worked round with her deck towards the seas; and as the heavy seas broke over her and came rushing up the deck, they fell on us with terrible weight, and beat us and crushed us against the ship's rail, so that we were forced to unlash ourselves from the rigging, and what to do we did not know, till one of us said, 'our only chance is to lash the end of the ropes round our waists, and let go the rigging as the waves come,' and so we did; and terrible work it was. as the waves came we slackened the ropes and went away a little with them, and as they passed, half smothered as we were, hauled ourselves back to the rigging and held on a bit; and then, when the next wave came, we let go, and were all adrift in the wash again; our hands were almost torn to pieces with the strain on the ropes, and grasping at the side of the vessel." and they shewed where their hands were torn, with the nails almost drawn from the finger ends. "you see, too, how our clothes were nearly dragged off us; it was indeed an awful time. we encouraged each other as well as we could, but soon became too exhausted to speak much, and just went struggling on. the topmast heads were right down in the sands, and every moment we expected the masts would break off short, and then the vessel would have rolled over, and it would have been death to us at once--but while there was life there was hope, and so we held on, just hoping against hope, and so we would not despair, but seemed to gather a little bit of courage, again and again struggling to prolong, for a few minutes, the life of which we saw so little chance of at last saving; but the tide was still falling, and if we could only live through all the wash of the sea, until it had gone down a bit, there was just one more chance for us. "well, we stood it for about two hours, i should think, the seas breaking over us continually, when we began to feel that they were getting less heavy, and ran less and less up the deck, and over the vessel. and at last, although half dead with breathlessness and fatigue, from the exertion and the constant rush of the waves over us, we were able to drag ourselves up on to the broadside of the vessel, and then we threw ourselves down full length, to try and recover our strength a little." it was with no slight degree of interest and sympathy that the life-boat men listened to the tale of the poor fellows; three of whom were married men, and they described how the thoughts of the loved ones at home, while it added to their agony, yet nerved them time after time to fresh efforts to struggle free from the seas that overran them. one man grew very excited as they told the dismal story. his limbs and features worked, the horrors of the past night came upon him in all their force, and as the waves dashed over the life-boat, he fancied himself again being washed off the side of the wreck, and springing up he shouted, "let me drown myself, let me drown myself, i can stand it no longer!" and tried to throw himself into the sea. three men seized him, held him down and tried to pacify him, but still he struggled, shouting,--"i cannot stand it! i cannot stand it! let me go! let me go!" he soon became somewhat quieter, from exhaustion, but the men did not feel it safe to let go their hold upon him, until they got into the harbour. it was now about half-past four in the afternoon, and the life-boat work for the day was done, the shipwrecked crew staggered to the sailors' home; wondering much to find themselves still alive, after the dread perils, and terrible struggles, and exhaustion, of the previous night. chapter xix. the hovellers, or salvors, saved. the "princess alice" hovelling lugger. "when they who to the sea go down, and in the waters ply their toil, are lifted on the surge's crown, and plunged where seething eddies boil, "then with thy mercies ever new, thy servants set from peril free; and bring them, pilot wise and true, unto the port where they would be." _hymn._ no sooner has the life-boat started in the morning, in answer to the signal from the goodwin light-vessel, than the master of the _princess alice_ gathers a crew of twelve men, and follows as fast as possible in the wake of the life-boat. a fine south-westerly breeze is blowing and the noble lugger bowls along at a great speed, and reaches the neighbourhood of the sands about a mile and a half behind the life-boat. the lugger brings to an anchor just outside the sands, and her crew, finding that the weather has somewhat moderated, and that the sea has gone down with the tide, determine to send six of their men in their small boat into the wreck, to see if they can save any cargo or rigging; the men get to the wreck without much difficulty, and find her right over on her broadside, with her yard-arms buried some feet in the sands; the top-gallant mast is gone; her rigging and all her top-hamper, a tangled mass, is floating and washing about in a deep hole which the eddy of the waves, beating against the wreck, has worked. the men climb on to the side of the vessel, and then lower themselves down from the weather-rigging across the deck, which is lying almost upright on its side, that they may look into the hold; the hatches are off, and they find that the hold is quite empty, everything washed out; it is difficult to get into the captain's cabin, as the vessel is completely on her side, or there may be things there worth saving; they will see to it by-and-by, and now they proceed at once to save what rigging they can. the three men on the vessel get their knives and choppers to work, and commence cutting away, when suddenly it begins to get dark, a heavy squall threatens, and a storm of snow and hail comes driving along before the wind. the men in the boat shout out, "it begins to look bad; do you not think that we had better be leaving, and get out of this?" but the men busy in the rigging are somewhat excited over their work, and answer back, "it is only a squall, a mere spoon drift, and will soon work round;" the wind, however, rapidly increases, and sweeps by in such violent gusts, that the men on the ship's side are nearly blinded with the snow, and can no longer hold on against the wind; well! they are willing to work hard and risk much, to save what they can from the hungry goodwin sands, even if that which they save will give them only a few shillings a man; but if they cannot, they cannot; it is not the first time, by very many, that they have returned with nothing but danger and labour for their pains. "look sharp, men, look sharp; do you want to drown us all?" "come down at once," is the cry from the boat; and the men lower themselves down over the slippery side of the vessel, into the small boat, which is leaping and tossing about in the waves which begin to surge up with some violence. "now, men, oars out and away with a will; i doubt we have left it quite long enough." "aye! aye! too long, i fear." "well! time enough to think that when we find it so." "which way are you going?" they ask the coxswain. "i don't suppose there is much choice, there will be less surf running at the back of the sand, and the lugger is sure to expect us to come out there, now that the sea has got up; so round with her, and pull hard." and away, as for their lives, the men pull, the little boat seethes through the troubled water, urged by her powerful crew; and they soon near the edge of the sand, and are making for deep water. "easy all, men! do you hear that?" and to their dismay, they hear the surf beating heavily, right ahead of them. "didn't i tell you so?" "hold your tongue--our work is to get out of this, not to grumble while in it." "right enough then, and i am your man; but what next?" "pull ahead a little, and let's look at them;" and doing so, they see huge waves rolling in out of the deep water upon the shallow sands, mounting up, curling over, and breaking, washing back, meeting other breakers foaming up against them; in fact, a sea of raging water surrounding the sands; a sea in which their little boat would be swamped at once, and in which, indeed, no ordinary boat could float, and only a life-boat could possibly pass through. as they mount on a wave they can see the lugger, riding safely just outside the surf, only a quarter of a mile off, waiting for them; but that quarter of a mile it is impossible for them to pass, and equally impossible for the lugger to get any nearer to them. "well, my men, there is no help for it here; we cannot get off the sands this way, that's certain." the seas begin to break heavily over the boat; the men keep her head to the waves, or she would be at once rolled over, so rapidly is the swell setting in; as it is, she begins to fill with water, and they have to continue bailing her; they must let her drift back, pulling easy to keep her head straight, and each wave carries them some distance further from the edge of the sand. as soon as they get clear of the rollers and the surf, they rest on their oars, and consult what is to be done; it all seems very hopeless, but it is no good waiting where they are; and so they determine to return again to the wreck, as to their only place of safety, and this indeed but for a very short time. they get to the wreck, and lay under shelter of her hull, not knowing what to do; never did men seem in more terrible plight, the wreck could afford but the scantiest shelter to the crew who hopelessly clung to her the night before; then the tide was falling, but now the tide is rising; each moment the great rollers that are rushing in upon the sands break nearer and nearer; soon they will rush over the wreck, cover her completely, and rend and tear her to fragments. what can be done? to remain where they are is certain death, to attempt to escape in their small open boat seems death, equally certain. well, it is better to die doing than to die waiting; but never have men held consultation under more apparently hopeless circumstances; the boat the men are in is the boat the _princess alice_ generally carries on her deck, between the masts; she is about eighteen feet long, and four broad, fine boat enough for her size; but she seems more than sufficiently filled by the six powerful men who are in her, and if she should be caught in the roll of one of the big waves, she will at once be capsized, or fill with water, and sink, leaving her crew but a few gasping moments of vain struggle with the boiling seas. and the seas rage round them every moment nearer and nearer. some of the men think that if they can drag the boat for about a mile over the crown of the part of the sands that is still dry, and thus get out to windward of the north-west spit, that they may find more shelter there for a time, and if they do find it somewhat smoother there, will perhaps be able to work their way through the surf; but upon a snow-squall, which for a time had darkened all around them, clearing away, they find that the breakers are throwing up as much surf there as anywhere else, and all hope of rescue in that direction is gone; and the conviction settles down upon them all, that there seems indeed no possibility of escape; but still they kept cool, and quiet, and undaunted, prepared to do their utmost, calmly and skilfully, up to the last moment, letting no chance go by; at all events, they will stop where they are no longer, as the breaking seas are closing in upon them fast. the goodwin sands are about nine miles long; in the middle of them there is at low water a large lake, which is called on the chart "trinity bay," but which is known to the boatmen as the in-sand; the men row in the direction of this lake, and row over the sand-banks which surround it, as soon as the tide has flowed sufficiently to enable them to do so; now they find themselves in completely smooth water, and are safe; but for how long? a short hour or so, for the hungry waves are following them up fast, still higher and higher comes the tide, and a furious surf begins to rage over the banks that for a time protect the lake. well do the men know how short a time of rest remains to them; they hear the beat of the heavy waves thundering near, they see the gleam of the surf, the sea begins to boil up around them, the circle of safety gets each moment more narrow, their dread ruthless enemy is on them again, and the men brace themselves for a life-and-death struggle, for with such a struggle they are face to face. "now, my men, to it again! look out all!" and each man grasps his oar hard, fixes his eye upon the steersman, james penny, watches his every sign, and listens to his every word; for in the struggle that is before them any mistake may be at once fatal to all. the big waves roll in, fast following each other, and the boat meets each one head on, and rises to it; the surf flies over the men, and into the boat; "bale away, penny! bale away! or she will swamp!"--and fast the steersman bales; he has one hand on the tiller, and is watching the direction of every wave, and shouting to the men, on which side to ease, on which to pull a little harder, to keep the boat's head straight to the waves; for if but one wave catches the boat on the side it will roll her over at once, and all must perish; they must row sometimes harder in a lull, sometimes gently when a high roller comes, to avoid its breaking upon them, or to prevent their burying the boat's bow in its steep side. the coxswain sees a tremendous wave rolling on; a few smaller ones come first; up the boat flies, down again, again mounts high, and again falls down; "steady all, look out, half a stroke hard starboard side, easy port, now easy all--easy all;" the men stop pulling, and lay their oars flat on the water to steady the boat; the great wave rolls on, the boat's bow is tossed high, nearly on end, the men lean back as far as possible, but can scarcely keep their seats, or prevent being thrown bodily forward upon the coxswain; the boat falls with a heavy plunge; there is a moment's lull. "now a stroke, or two, my men;" and they gently press the boat forward and make a little way; "easy all, head her to it, here she comes," and up again they mount upon the crest of a wave, and are again nearly turned end-over-end, but, happily, fall on an even keel as the wave passes, and at once prepare themselves to meet the next sea, and thus meeting wave after wave, overcoming danger after danger, they go drifting slowly with the tide. the men do not dare at any time to pull hard for fear of rowing the boat under, they make therefore but little way ahead, not more than half a mile, or so, an hour, but they are carried slowly by the tide down trinity bay in the direction of the downs. the boat has been nearly full of water all this time, from the surf and spray that have broken into her, but she happily has a belt of cork round her, underneath the thwarts, or she must have long since been swamped, but this, with the constant baling of the coxswain, has kept her afloat. the men have been able to remain in the bay until the tide has risen greatly, and it is now high water over the sands, and the water being deeper, the seas do not break nearly as heavily as before; they are mounting seas, not running seas. the mounting sea swells up and comes pushing along, like a hill of water, steep on both sides; its crest is caught by the wind and is driven away in clouds of spray and foam, but a boat meeting it has time to rise, and float over it; but a running sea is much more dangerous; its base is caught and retarded by the sands; it comes along, its sides steep as a wall, its crest curling more and more over until it breaks, and the upper portion of the wave falls with a mighty crash, with perhaps tons of water in its volume; it would be impossible for any boat but a life-boat to contend for a moment with such a rushing breaking sea as this, and the little boat the six men are in, with its heavy freight, would be swamped, beaten under water and rolled over by the first such sea she met; but if the men can only steer clear of these breakers, and keep the boat's head so as to meet the mounting seas bow on, and manage to bale her constantly so as to keep her a little free from water, they may live through it all yet; with this hope they labour on steadily, bravely, and hour after hour they thus contend with the storm; the boat is now coming to the worst of the water--to the steep edge of the sand--and the men feel that, for a time, the danger must increase, and all brace themselves up again, prepared for any further effort, or care, that may be required. the steersman, who has been steering and baling the boat for about four hours, suddenly lets the bowl with which he is baling fly from his hand; he gives a cry of horror, the men cannot help repeating it, for is not this likely to be a death-stroke to them all? the men at once realize the dread increase of danger this misfortune creates. to keep the boat afloat without baling is impossible; the surf breaks into her continually; the men cannot bale with their southwesters, for they must keep rowing; they require both hands, and to exert all their strength to free their oars from the seas, and to keep the blades from being blown up into the air, as the force of the gale catches them; while the steersman must of necessity keep one hand on the tiller; and all must continue labouring without one moment's cessation to keep the boat's head straight to the seas. most happily the bowl is a wooden one, and there it is floating a few yards from them; they watch it wistfully, as they, and it, are tossed up and down by the quick waves; back the boat down upon the bowl they cannot, for it is on their broadside, and drifting away on the tide faster than they are floating: it would seem, that it must be an easy matter to pick up a bowl that is floating only a few yards from the boat; but not so now, for every moment, racing swiftly after each other, the waves come rushing on. it is strange as they watch the bowl to feel that their lives depend upon their recovering it, and yet how likely they are to perish in the attempt, and thus the men casting anxious glances at the bowl keep steadily to their work; they allow no word of fear or discouragement to be spoken; they must have mind, nerve, and muscle in full play; if a word of hopelessness is let fall, "don't speak like that--don't speak like that, stick to your oar!" they must be words of encouragement, or no words at all, and in grim silence, except for the few words of direction shouted out by the coxswain, the men wait their fate. suddenly the coxswain cries, "here is a lull, round with her, sharp!" the men on the starboard side give a mighty pull; the men on the port back their hardest; one pull all together, the bowl is within reach; the coxswain grasps it with a hasty snatch! "round! round, with her quick, quick!" and the eager men get her head straight to the seas again, before the waves have time to catch the boat broadside on and roll it over. all breathe again; they have another chance of life. thank god! thank god! they now pass away from the sands and get into the gull stream, but the wind has chopped round and continues to blow a fierce gale; the sea is running very high and broken; and in that rough sea they are still in extreme danger on account of the smallness of their boat, and so many men being in her, and they have to proceed with the greatest care and caution. as they get into the gull stream they see vessel after vessel running with close-reefed topsails before the gale; the boatmen hail them but they get no answer: one little sloop affords them slight hope, for she is evidently altering her course, but after a moment's apparent hesitation, away she goes again before the gale, and abandons them to their fate. the captain of the little vessel related afterwards, how in the height of the storm he saw some poor fellows in a small boat, and had a great wish to try and save them, but the sea was running so high that he felt it was impossible to heave his vessel to, and so had to leave them, and that they must have been driven on the sands and lost. this sloop was about a quarter of a mile from the boat, and the men do not again get as near to any other ship, and as vessel after vessel passes, and the night begins to grow dark, the position of the men becomes more and more hopeless--and they all feel that if no vessel picks them up, they must soon be blown in again upon the sands, and there perish. all of the men, except one, are married; the man in the bow has a wife and five children, and it is his thoughts of them that keep him nerved to his work, for although weak, exhausted, and almost fainting, he still sticks to his oar and feebly paddles on; the only single man in the boat is his brother-in-law; and his mind keeps running as much upon what his sister will do, as a widow with five children, as it does upon the thoughts of his own probable fate; and so although the men will not permit themselves to lament or bemoan their almost certain fate, for fear of weakening their own nerves or discouraging each other, each has his solemn conviction of what must soon happen, and is in his own breast thinking of death, and bidding "good-bye," to the loved ones who are resting those few miles away. the downs had been full of ships at the commencement of the storm, but as the wind increased in violence and blew right through, the anchorage was no longer safe, and vessel after vessel slipped her cable and ran before the gale; until at last only one vessel, a large american ship, remains at anchor. the boatmen make her out when they are about half a mile from her, and find, to their great joy, that she is almost directly in the path in which they are drifting; to get alongside her is their last hope, for although the tide is now carrying them against the wind and from the sands, the tide will very soon turn, and then with the tide, and before the wind, they will be swept with terrible speed right in upon the sands, and must there at once perish, and it will be impossible for them to row against the tide, as all their efforts will still be required to keep the boat bow on to the seas. whenever, after the passing of a few of the largest of the waves, there comes a comparative lull, or smooth, and they dare press the boat, they pull a few strokes and shoot ahead, and thus manage to get exactly in the path of the american ship. as they drop slowly towards her they shout time after time, but cannot make themselves heard; and it is getting too dusk for them to be seen at any distance; the seas are running alongside the ship almost gunwale high, and it is impossible to get nearer to her than within fifty yards. hail after hail the men give, still they get no answer; they can see a man on the poop, but he evidently neither sees nor hears them, and their last chance seems slipping away, for they are fast drifting past the vessel. "get on the thwart, dick, and shout with all your might!" the coxswain says to the man pulling stroke-oar; "i'll hold you," hauling in his oar, and catching it under the seat; the man springs upon the thwart, and balancing himself for a second, hails with all his force. "the man is moving, he hears us; hurrah!" is the glad cry in the boat. they can see that he is looking about in astonishment, wondering from where the voice from the sea came. they all shout together; he sees them, waves his arm, and hurries along the poop; other men come hastening up, called by him, and look with astonishment at the little boat so full of men, being tossed about in that wild sea. the boat drifts by the ship, they venture a pull or two and get her under the stern of the vessel, shooting her a little across the seas; they then pull a little harder to try and keep her position, risking a little more to keep near the ship--indeed the vessel somewhat protects them from the rush of the seas. the coxswain sees a man on the vessel throw something overboard--it is a coil of rope with a life-buoy attached; they make it out as it floats near, and manage to get it on board. the pilot is the man who first saw the boat, and has got the life-buoy and thrown it over to them. the captain of the vessel is now on deck; he orders the men to send down a rope from each quarter of the vessel, and to try and keep the boat directly astern of the centre of the ship, for if the boat sheers to one side or the other, and any of the big waves which are racing by the ship catch her on her broadside, she must go over at once. so they shout to the men in the boat, "hold on--we will send you another rope," and soon another life-buoy with a rope attached, comes floating by; they get it on board, and seeing directly the object for which it is sent, haul the ropes over each bow, and strive to keep the boat in position; but still they are in great danger; their safety hitherto has been in floating with the waves, yielding to them as they rolled on; but now as she is moored to the ship, the little boat has to breast the waves, and at times is tossed high with her bow in the air, and again plunged down, smothered with spray, and in danger every moment of being overturned; indeed it is only by the skilful manoeuvring of the captain that the boat is kept safe at all. he has stationed six men on each quarter of the ship; they hold the ropes to which the boat is fastened; and as the big waves press the boat, the men slacken the rope, and let the boat go with the seas, pulling her up again between the waves, hauling on one rope, and slacking the other if the boat sheers too much on one side. the difficulty now is how to get the men out of the boat, for they dare not haul her up closer to the vessel, as she will not ride with a shorter scope of rope. they send another rope down to the boat, with a bowline knot made in it for the men to sit in, and then shout to the men, "we will haul you on board, one at a time." there is a moment's question as to the order in which the men shall go, for each feels that at any moment the boat may sink under them; it is quickly decided that the men shall leave the boat in the order in which they sit, and one after another, they plunge into the waves, and are hauled on board through the seas. all safe at last! and very soon the boat fills and turns over, and hangs there held by the ropes till the morning. as soon as the men have shaken the water a little from their clothes, and have wiped their eyes and faces somewhat clear, the captain says, "i suppose you have come from the barque that was riding near at the beginning of the gale, and which i missed after a squall, and which must have foundered." (it was supposed that two or three ships went down with all hands that night). "no, sir; we have come from no barque, we were blown away from a wreck some hours ago, near the north sands head, and have drifted right over the goodwin." "impossible! impossible! no boat could live in such a sea, and over the sands, impossible!"--"it is true, sir; we are ramsgate boatmen and belong to a lugger; we went in from her on to the sands to a wreck, and could not get back to her again." and the captain declares that their escape has been wonderful indeed. the feelings of the men at finding themselves safe are perfectly overwhelming; the reaction after those long hours of almost hopeless and constant struggle; it is too much for them, especially added, as it is, to the condition of physical exhaustion to which they are reduced. some of them can scarcely speak; one of them, realizing the almost miracle by which they have been saved, leans against the boom, repeating in a broken voice, "what, i saved! i saved--i saved! one of the worst! one of the worst!" another can only think of the words he had so often repeated to one of his mates, who had seemed almost dying during the night. "come, cheer up! come, cheer up! stick to your oar, keep up your heart, man," and he continues for some time repeating these words in a strange dreamy way. the coxswain, upon whom the chief anxiety and greatest stress of mind had fallen, for he had hour, after hour, to sit watching every sea as it rolled to them and meet it with the tiller, felt more than the others the effect of the night's work; he soon after fell very ill, was nigh to death's door, and did not recover his strength for a twelvemonth. the captain, officers, and crew of the american ship are full of sympathy and kindness. the captain takes the men into his cabin, and gives them each a little brandy, then offers them dry clothes, and orders beds to be made up for them in the cabin: the clothes and the bed the men think too kind, but the beef-steak supper and the glass of grog all round, as soon as they have eaten a little, is not to be refused; and the hardy fellows are soon sound asleep on the cabin-floor, with all their perils for a time forgotten. in the morning the gale has greatly abated; the men have a hearty breakfast provided by the hospitable captain: their boat is by his orders hauled up, baled out, and as everything has been washed out of her, the captain lends them oars, and they start for ramsgate, giving their most hearty thanks for the great skill with which they were got on board the ship and saved, and for the kindness they have received on board. when the crew of the _champion_ lugger had put the men she had saved from the wreck on board the life-boat, they found that they could not well get back to ramsgate in the then state of the wind and tide, and they were forced to run for dover. the men on board the _princess alice_ remained in the greatest state of anxiety as to the fate of their comrades who went into the wreck in their little boat, and waited on, and on, in the position in which the boat must come to them, if she clears the sands; hour after hour she cruises backwards and forwards, her crew keeping most anxious watch, and then runs down the back of the sands, thinking it possible the boat might get out somewhere there; the gale increases; the night comes on; the high tide has swept over the whole of the sands with its wild seas long before this, and they can only conclude, which they do most positively and sorrowfully, that their companions in many a hard struggle--their friends since childhood--have been lost, overwhelmed in the rage of the sea on the goodwin. they therefore give up the search, and now regard their own safety, and they also find that they cannot reach ramsgate, but must make away for dover. arriving there, they at once telegraph the sad news to ramsgate, that they have lost six hands; news that creates the greatest excitement in the town. the next morning the _princess alice_ starts at daylight for another cruise round the sands, hardly with the hope of finding their lost comrades, but possibly fragments of the boat may be found; but they search in vain, and feeling their fears to be altogether confirmed, they steer for ramsgate. there the arrival of the lugger is most anxiously awaited, and the report of the men increases the excitement, and sorrow, and sympathy, which had been created by the telegraph sent the night before, and now that the names of the missing men are known, there is sad, sad, grief among their supposed widows, and orphans, and their friends. in the meanwhile the boatmen, having left the american ship, row steadily toward ramsgate. they see a lugger making for the harbour; this proves to be the _champion_. the lugger takes the men on board, and the boat in tow, her crew rejoicing over their friends whom they had supposed to be drowned. they hoist the lugger's flag in token that they are bearers of good news, and speed towards ramsgate. the lugger's approach with her flag flying excites the curiosity of the men on the harbour, and a crowd hurries down the pier to watch her arrival. and, as soon as the men missing from the _princess alice_ are recognised, the cheers and excitement are wild in the extreme, and men speed off at their hardest to bear the good news. one poor woman in the midst of her agony and mourning for her husband, and surrounded by her weeping friends, is surprised by her door being burst violently open, and at seeing a boatman almost dropping with breathlessness, gasping, and gesticulating, and nodding, but trying in vain to speak; and it is some seconds before he can stammer out "all right! all right! your husband is safe, coming now!" a little subscription was got up by the men and their friends, in order to give to the captain of the american ship and the pilot a small testimonial of the appreciation of their skill and hospitality. the men took the borrowed oars back and presented their thankofferings, in the shape of a silver cigar case each, to the captain and pilot. and as the men told the story of the despair and grief that had existed among the wives and children at home--of the tears of sorrow that were turned into tears of gladness--of the rejoicings that took place upon their return, the brave and feeling american captain shared the emotion of the men as they told their tale, and was much overcome as he thanked them for their present, saying,--he should value it as long as he lived, and ever be deeply grateful that he had in any way been the instrument of saving such honest and brave fellows, and of restoring them to their wives and families. chapter xx. the saving of "la marguerite"--(a hovel). "the spirit of the storm pursued their long and toilsome way; at length, in ocean solitude, he sprang upon his prey. 'havoc!' the shipwreck-demon cried, loos'd all his tempests on the tide, gave all his lightnings play." _j. montgomery._ the case of _la marguerite_, a small french brig that was rescued from great peril by a margate lugger, assisted by the ramsgate steamer and life-boat, will perhaps convey a sufficient idea of the difficulty and danger that frequently occur in rescuing vessels from positions of peril, and in bringing them in their damaged condition safely into port. _la marguerite_, a small french brig of 187 tons, is owned by her captain, an honest and brave french seaman, and represents to him a great part of the savings of many years' hard work and economy. she is bound from christiana to dieppe with a cargo of deals; her hold is full, and her deck piled up and hampered with cargo almost to the level of her gunwale. but on she goes rolling through the seas, with a fair wind and fine weather, and her crew suffer only that amount of discomfort which must always be the case when the deck of a vessel is so crowded with cargo. the fresh breeze increases in force, and threatens a storm; the men close reef the topsails and speed on their way; they make the orfordness light on the essex coast, and then, correcting their course, steer for the knock and galloper lights, which are stationed to guard sands so named, and which are situated about eighteen miles from the north foreland. the breeze lulls a little, and they shake out a reef in the sails; it is now getting somewhat thick--they soon make out a couple of lights, but they shine so dimly through the mists that the crew conclude that they are only fishermen's lights, and shaking out another reef, they run fast before the wind, carefully steering their course by the compass; but all this time a strong set of tide has been carrying them to the northward and westward; this they have not discovered, and are quite unaware that they are getting into a dangerous neighbourhood. the captain is on deck; he is well-pleased at the prospect of making a rapid voyage, and seeing that the night is likely to be wet and squally, he gives his crew an extra glass of grog all round and goes below, taking a last look at the compass, and feeling fully assured that they are steering a straight course home. in an hour or two the men on deck have their attention aroused by a hoarse murmur which seems right a head of them, and which sounds like the noise of waves breaking upon the shore. they look at the compass, their course is correct, they cannot account for it; a couple of men run forward, and soon see distinctly a white line of foam gleaming out in the darkness, and make out the flash of the breakers as they leap high in the air; they are terror-stricken at the sight, and, with a loud cry of "breakers ahead! breakers ahead!" they rush to the hatchway and shout to the captain to come on deck at once; he, poor man, rushes up and hurries to the wheel, round it flies, but before he can get the brig's head round, she mounts upon a breaker, is thrown forward and grounds heavily upon the sands. where are they? where can they be? what horrible mistake have they made? they think they must have run somewhere on the mainland, on the kent coast; one man proposes to swim ashore with a rope, but the seas come sweeping over them with a degree of violence, that quite does away with any thought of making such an attempt. they hurry to the long boat to try and get it out, but it and the only other boat which is in the brig are speedily swept over board by the seas. the vessel is on the edge of the sands and feels all the force of the waves as they roll in and leap and break upon the bank; with every inrush of the seas she lifts high and pitches, crashing her bow down on the sands, each time with a thump that makes her timbers groan, and almost sends the men flying from the deck. as the big waves recoil and leap against her in all directions she rolls heavily, while her masts sway, and her yard-arms almost touch the water on either side. the tide is rising, and as she lifts she beats each time a yard or two over the sands; the timbers, piled upon her decks, speedily break loose and are washed away; the hull is writhing and working very badly--her seams open; and so heavily does she strike, that time after time the captain thinks that she must soon break up. this thrashing over the sands lasts for about twenty minutes, when they find that she is in deep water, but completely water-logged, and torn and wrenched almost to pieces; her rudder is knocked away, and if her cargo were anything but deals she would sink at once, and all would be instantly drowned; as it is, so long as her timbers will hold together her cargo will keep her afloat, and her crew are comparatively safe. but she is by no means a strongly-built vessel, and could not by any possibility stand much more of the thumping and wrenching which she has just gone through, while beating over the sands. the captain is still unable to make out where they are; they get a heave of the lead, and find that they are in thirteen fathoms of water; it must be a sandbank in the middle of a channel that they have just beaten over--they had better anchor at once for fear the ship should be driven upon another bank. "is the anchor clear?" "no," cries the mate. (it is neglect of such matters as these that loses many a fine ship.) "get the anchor and cable clear, then, as quickly as you can, or we shall be on the sands again; for although the brig is water-logged, the wind is driving her fast, and the tide is running with great speed." after some delay they get the anchor overboard, and the brig rides to it, head to wind. the men gather together in the stern of the vessel, and group round the captain, and as there is no work to be done to keep up their excitement, they the more fully realize their danger, and begin to express their fears. they speak of their wives and children, and bemoan their own probable fate. the captain is the greatest sufferer, and the bravest hearted of them all. "look at me!" he replies. "have not i got a wife? have i not got six children? do i want to be taken from them, any more than you do from yours? besides, this is my own ship, you know that, and you know that she is all i have got--all i have worked and saved for; if i lose her, i lose all i have, and am a poor man again; you may be sure i'll do all i can to save the ship and our lives too." but the men watch how severely the brig pitches in the heavy seas. the cable strains as if it would tear itself out of the ship, and the men are afraid it will part, or the anchor drag, and think the ship would ride more easily if her masts were cut away; they urge the captain to have it done; but the ship is not insured, and he, poor man, knows how great must be the expense of repairing her if she is saved, and naturally does not wish to increase that expense by losing her masts, so for some time he resists their entreaties; but at last is forced to give an unwilling consent to have the foremast cut away. the carpenter seizes the hatchet, a few heavy blows, and a great notch gapes in the mast, they cut the weather shrouds, and after the ship has given two or three heavy rolls, the mast goes over with a loud crash, falling well over the side clear of the vessel; one man receives a nasty gash in the cheek, from a splinter from the falling mast, but is not much hurt. they cut the rigging of the mast from the vessel, and the mast is speedily carried astern by the tide. the brig certainly now rides more easily; the night passes on, and very long and weary the hours seem. the vessel sinks lower and lower in the water, right down, indeed, to her deck lining. the captain and the crew know how weak she is (like some of the small timber ships, she has no lower hold beams), and they fear that as she is full of water, the buoyancy of the timber cargo may break up her deck, for she is almost all to pieces already, and if the deck bursts, she will break up at once. all hands, therefore, watch eagerly for the daylight, and as soon as they are able to see, begin to make a raft; there are a goodly number of eleven-feet deals stowed on deck which have been jambed too tight to be washed away by the seas, and the crew begin to lash these together as rapidly as they can, although, from the rolling and pitching of the vessel and from the seas washing so frequently over the deck, it is a matter of great difficulty to do so. as soon as it is daylight the wreck is seen from margate, and all is at once astir down by the jetty and the pier; the life-boat is speedily manned and gets under weigh, and two fine luggers race with her to get first to the vessel. but it is a long beat to windward, and against a fresh gale and strong tide, and it is doubtful whether either of the boats will be able to reach the wreck, at all events, before the turn of the tide, or at the least, slack water. the luggers have, as a matter of course, a sufficient amount of ballast on board, and are in good sailing trim. the life-boat cannot be so heavily ballasted, or she would sink when filled with water, or beat to pieces when grounding on the sands among the broken seas; the luggers therefore, make to windward much better than the life-boat can, and leave her astern, the life-boat crew soon find that it will be impossible for them to reach the wreck, and return to margate; the luggers persevere, and one of them runs alongside the brig in fine style; the men on board the other lugger think that the brig is drifting and not at anchor, they therefore make too far to leeward, astern of her, and cannot beat up into position again. the men from the first lugger spring on board the wreck; they find that she is greatly damaged, and working very heavily as she rolls gunwale under; they think she would ride easier with her remaining mast gone, and try to persuade the captain to let them cut it away, but he stoutly refuses his permission, and the margate men make the best of it, as it is. they get the anchor up, and passing a hawser on board the lugger, seek to tow the brig away from the sands; knowing the sands as well as they do, they hope to be able to get clear of them and get the brig into deep water; but it is very difficult work, for with her rudder gone there is no power of steering her, and the weight of the lugger is scarcely sufficient to keep her head straight: they make a little progress, however, the tide being somewhat in their favour, but the tide is on the turn, and they will soon be driven back into their old position, if not in worse, and the men begin almost to despair of saving the vessel, when to their great satisfaction they see the ramsgate steamboat and life-boat making their way round the north foreland. the coastguard officer at margate, when he saw that the margate life-boat could not reach the brig, and knowing that if any sea got up where the vessel was, that the luggers could be of no use, telegraphed to ramsgate that a vessel was on the knock sands. the steamer and life-boat get under weigh at once, and proceed as fast as possible to the rescue; there is a nasty sea running off ramsgate, but it is not until they get to the north foreland that they feel the full force of the gale--here the sea is tremendous, and as the steamer pitches to it, the waves that break upon her bows fly right over her funnel--indeed she buries herself so much in the seas that they have to ease her speed considerably to prevent her being completely overrun by them. no one on board the boat knows where they are being towed; "a telegram from margate," was the first news "the life-boat wanted;" and then in the hurry and excitement to get under weigh with all possible speed, no one on board had thought of asking for further particulars. the life-boat plunges on, and her crew are ready for the work whatever it is, and wherever it is. as they round the north foreland they see a brig, with her foremast gone, in tow of a lugger. the boatmen cast off the steamer's tow-rope and make for the brig; they run in close under her lee, and venture too near to her; she is rolling so heavily that her yard-arm comes right over the boat, and the loose ropes swaying about catch in the boat's mast; they cannot get the mast down, and the brig hangs so heavily they fear that she is going to capsize right upon them; an active fellow severs the entangled rope with a hatchet, the brig slowly rolls up again, and the life-boat drops astern. the boatmen get on board the brig; there are six of the lugger's men on board; they find that the lugger is quite unable to make any way with the wreck, and as the tide is on the turn, the vessel is in great peril, for the sands are just under her lee; no time must be lost, they signal to the steamer to come at once, the life-boatmen take a hawser on board her, and she begins to tow the brig away from the sands; but the brig's rudder is gone, and she is sheering right and left, jerking the hawser at the end of each sheer with a strain hard enough to break it, and the foremast being cut away, the men cannot carry sail to steady her; she must be steered by the boats. the life-boat and lugger drop astern, each having a rope from the opposite quarter of the wreck. the steamer moves ahead, and as the brig begins to sheer in one direction, both boats steer in the opposite direction, and turning their broadsides to the vessel as much as possible, hang with all their weight, and try and keep her stern straight; then as the vessel sheers again in the other direction, away the boats immediately make across her stern, to check her on the other side. it is difficult and perilous work, this swiftly sheering across the brig's stern in the heavy tumble of sea and strong gale, for the boats can carry no sails to steady them, or they would not be able to sheer quickly from one direction to the other; and thus they are in constant danger of coming into violent collision with each other, and once they strike together very heavily. the french crew on board the brig are utterly exhausted with fatigue and excitement, and are quite ready to leave their vessel in the hands of the english boatmen. the men get the anchor and cable clear and ready for use if wanted; it is of no good attempting anything with the pumps, for the wreck is water-logged; and away the brig goes plunging and rolling with the seas washing over her decks, which are scarcely out of the water, and the two boats sheering and tossing astern, all being towed by the gallant little steamer. as the brig gets good way on her, it is easier to steer her by means of the boats; but still they do not dare attempt to take her through the narrow cud channel, they therefore find their way through the gull stream, and round the small brake-buoy, and then make up for the entrance of ramsgate harbour. but the tide has not been long on the flood, and the strong northerly wind is checking it; and so they doubt whether there is water enough to take her into the harbour, and wait until they can see the red light showing on the west pier-head; this is the signal that there is ten feet of water at the harbour mouth; the weather is so thick that they cannot for some time see the light, and it has been up for at least an hour before they can make it out. they regret every moment's delay, for although it is of no use attempting to enter the harbour before there is abundance of depth of water, yet the tide is making more and more strongly every minute, and it will be a matter of increasing difficulty to steer the brig, in her present helpless condition, across the strong tide, and through the heavy seas, into the narrow entrance of the harbour. chapter xxi. the wreck brought in. "god keep those cheery mariners! and temper all the gales, that sweep against the rocky coast to their storm-shattered sails." _p. benjamin._ as they tow the wreck near to the harbour they shorten the steamers hawser to give the brig less scope for sheering; and as there is not room for both the lugger and the life-boat to hang astern and help the brig steer, the life-boat casts off and makes in to the harbour. in spite of the rough cold night, the interest in life-boat work is too great for all sympathisers to be driven away from the pier-head; and there is a crowd there ready to watch the boat's return, and to welcome the men with a cheer. the steamer approaches cautiously, the brig's head is straight, and she seems well under command; a couple of minutes more and all will be safe, when suddenly the rush of tide catches the wreck on the bow; she overpowers the lugger which is towing astern; round her head flies; she lurches heavily forward, and strikes the east pier-head just outside the bend; crash goes her jibboom; in vain the steamer tows its hardest, she is in the grasp of a strong tide and leaping sea, and again she pitches and plunges heavily against the pier: with a terrible wrench her bowsprit breaks off short; again, and again, she strikes as she drifts round the pier; her figurehead is crushed, her stem broken and twisted, her forefoot torn off, and sweeping round she grounds on the sands almost alongside the pier, on the outer side, grinding and rubbing her sides against the massive granite walls at each heave and work of the sea. the change of scene on the pier is very sudden, and very great; at one moment the people were cheering the crews of the life-boat and steamer upon the apparently successful ending of their labours; the next, and the work of the brave fellows seems almost more than undone; and there is quick dread peril, and deadly strife, and a wild outcry of fear, and a very wildness of excitement, in the place of apparent safety and congratulation. the people on the pier can look down upon the men on board the brig, can see them clinging to the wreck as the seas break over them, can hear the brig grinding and thumping against the pier as if she would at once break up. some of the lookers-on run for the life-buoys, which are hanging upon the parapet of the pier and on the pier-house, and throw them down to the men on board the brig, others get ropes, and throwing one end down, shout to the men to make themselves fast, that they will haul them up. the poor frenchmen are almost paralysed by the scene and by excitement--they cannot make it out; the harbour-master, captain braine, has enough to do; he sees the danger of the men on board the brig, but he sees more than this, he sees the danger of the crowd at the pier-head, for the brig's mainmast is swaying backwards and forwards, coming right over the pier as the vessel rolls, and threatens to break and come down upon the people as the brig strikes the pier; and if it does, it will certainly kill some, perhaps many. the women are shrieking, men shouting, some running about here and there, all anxious to do something, and yet not able to render any assistance. the french sailors are making themselves fast to the end of the ropes that have been thrown on board, but the harbour-master sees the great danger the men will be in, of being crushed between the wreck and the pier, if they make the attempt to be hauled up, the vessel is rolling so quickly, and the seas are so heavy, he therefore shouts to them not to try it, and the boatmen hold them back. but still the french sailors struggle to get hold of the ropes, crying out, "much danger, much danger! what shall we do? what shall we do?" the outcry of the people on the pier naturally adding greatly to their excitement. during this time, which has occupied but very few minutes, the steamer still keeps hold of the hawser. she has been swung against the inside of the pier by the strain of the wreck upon her cable, and by the eddy of the tide, while the wreck has been beating against the outside; now she steams out again with all speed, gets her head round, brings a gradual strain upon the hawser, and makes every effort to tow the brig away from the pier and off the sands; after a few seconds of hard tugging the brig begins to move, and they get her into deep water again. but during this time the crew of the margate lugger have been in equal, if not greater, danger than the men on board the brig. as soon as the men on board the lugger saw the brig sweep and crash against the pier, they cast off their tow rope, but before they could hoist any sail, the way they had on the boat, and the rush of the tide, carried the lugger almost between the vessel, as she swung round, and the pier; the men, however, escaped that danger, and indeed death, but the boat was swept to the back of the pier, and in the eddy of the tide was carried into the broken water; there she rolls in the trough of the sea; wave after wave catches and sweeps her up towards the pier as if to crush her against it; but each time the rebound of the water from the pier acts as a fender, and saves her from destruction; but she is an open boat, and if one big wave leaps on board it will fill her, and she must sink at once; and the seas around her are very wild, the surf from their crests breaks into her continually; the people on the pier see her extreme peril; some run to the life-boat men who are preparing to moor the boat, and shout to them to hasten out--that the brig is breaking up, and that the lugger will be swamped; before, however, the life-boat can get out, the brig is towed clear of the pier, and the lugger having gradually drifted to the end of the pier, the men are able to get up a corner of the fore-sail; it cants the lugger's head round; the men get the fore-sail well up; it fills, she draws away from the pier, and away from the broken water, and is clear. the steamer has the brig in tow, but now the wreck has no boats to help her steer, and she therefore yaws about with tremendous lurches. the boatmen have all this time been working their utmost; their danger and the scene of excitement around them having no other effect upon them, than to make them the more cool and determined to do everything they can to save the vessel and themselves. they rig up a stay-sail upon the tottering mainmast, and as soon as the steamer gets a little way on the brig, they try and steer by it, raising and lowering the sail as the brig sheers one way or the other, and doing their utmost to keep her head straight. a very heavy sea strikes her on the bow, and she lurches right across the tide; at that moment the steamer's hawser tightens and strains, and the whole weight of the brig as she lies broadside to the seas dragging upon the rope, it breaks in a weak place, where it has got chafed against the pier. the brig falls into the trough of the sea; the waves begin to make a clean breach over her; water-logged and helpless as she is, with her deck down almost to the level of the sea; the men on board can now do but little, for time after time, as the seas sweep her decks, they have enough to do to hold on; still the boatmen on board work when they can, for they see that their lives depend upon getting the vessel in tow of the steamer before she can strike the dyke bank, which is just under her lee. they make all haste to haul in the broken end of the cable; they already have a good part of the cable on board, which they hauled in when they were about making for the harbour. they tell the french captain to get all his men to work, and have the ship's hawser ready, but the brig rapidly drifts before the heavy gale and with the tide towards the dyke bank, over which the seas are running with fearful violence, the poor shattered wreck must indeed be very soon broken up altogether if she once strikes amid that terrible rage of waters, and there, too, the waves will sweep over her with a violence sufficient to sweep the men from her decks; they must expect the tottering mast to go at the first shock; there would be no refuge in the rigging, and the deck would be virtually under water; it is doubtful indeed if she strikes whether the men will be able to hold on, even while the life-boat, which is close at hand, can reach them. the life-boatmen had made out to the rescue of the lugger, but when they saw that she was out of danger, and that the brig was under tow of the steamer, they put back, but directly the harbour-master sees that the brig is again adrift, he hastens to order the life-boat out once more to the rescue. many of the excited people on the pier throng round the harbour-master, and entreat him to order the life-boatmen to take all the boatmen and the crew off the wreck at once. but the harbour-master knows the boatmen too well to think that they will be content to leave the wreck, whatever the danger may be, while there remains a single chance of saving her; he therefore tells the life-boatmen to keep as near to the wreck as possible. the captain of the steamer, directly he sees the hawser break, realizes the deadly peril the wreck and those on board it are in; without a moment's delay, he orders his crew to haul in the broken end of the hawser, and as speedily as possible to back the steamer down to the wreck, which is now within one hundred yards of the dyke sand. she is rolling heavily broadside to the seas, which are making a clean sweep over her; the men on board are scarcely able to keep the deck for the wash of water, a few minutes more--two or three--and she will be right in upon the breakers; round the pier-head dashes the life-boat, leaping the seas as she is carried swiftly before the gale, she makes for the wreck, and is ready to plunge into the surf to the rescue of the crew directly the unfortunate vessel touches the sands. but the steamer may yet be in time to save her: now she is close to her, and they throw the end of a rope on board the wreck; the boatmen on board fasten a cable to it, the steamer's crew haul it in with all possible speed, the steamer moves slowly a-head, the cable gets taught, the steamer tugs and strains, but it is with the greatest difficulty she can get the brig's head straight; now it comes slowly round, but as the wreck faces the tide, she sheers right and left; they see that the wreckage of her bowsprit and jibboom are right across her bow entangled in her cut-water; it is this that causes her to sheer so much, and to hang so heavily that the steamer cannot make any way with her, or keep her head straight for one moment. the english boatmen stand ready to hoist the stay-sail, as soon as the steamer can move her ahead, and keep her at all to the wind. the poor french sailors give way to much excitement in the wildness and peril of the scene; clasping their hands and shouting; and there is little wonder that their fears should be so aroused. "hold! hold, good rope, for if you break, nothing can save the ship; in a short time she must be torn utterly to pieces by the waves now breaking so wildly, almost directly under her lee!" each time the brig sheers heavily to one side or the other, she is brought up with a jerk that makes the steamer tremble from stem to stern, and tries the strength of the cable to the utmost. the life-boat continues to cruise round the brig, keeping as near as possible, but taking care to avoid her, as she sheers swiftly from side to side. suddenly the wreckage clears itself from across the vessel's bow, and to the joy of all, the vessel ceases to sheer so violently, and rests for a minute straight in her course. the boatmen on board at once hoist the stay-sail; it steadies her, and she forges ahead, and they battle their way through the waves, round the west pier-head, and a little out of the rush of the worst of the seas; here, five brave fellows come off in a small boat, and bring a line to her from the pier; with this they haul the second hawser from the vessel to the pier; they get another hawser from the pier to the wreck, and as the tide is setting her in a direction away from the pier, they can hold her fast by these hawsers; the steamer now moves round the wreck, and gets a rope from her stern, but in the meantime they have made the life-boat's cable fast to the stern of the wreck, and passed it on to the pier; the crowd of people on the pier lay hold of it, and begin to pull their hardest, and succeed in moving the wreck fast astern; with such energy do they pull that the small cable breaks in their hands, but the steamer has by this time again got hold of the vessel, and tows her safely into the harbour, and the long hours of peril and of struggling against the storm are at an end. a miserable figure the poor wreck looks, when she is hauled up on the slip-way for repairs. her masts are out of her, her bow crushed, her stern twisted and broken, the oakum is streaming out of her seams, her timbers are started, her rudder is gone, she looks truly the very wreck she is. indeed, it was nothing but the fact of her being timber laden that prevented her going down immediately after striking the first time upon the margate sands, or has kept her afloat during any one of the many terrible struggles with the seas, that she has had since to endure. the brig was ultimately repaired, and sent to sea; but to whatever extent the general average upon the insured cargo contributed to the bill, the balance required must have made a sad hole in the poor brave-hearted captain's savings. the margate and ramsgate men got some few pounds each for salvage: the ship and cargo were not very valuable, and there were many to share the small amount awarded, so there was not much for each one. but the men were thankful, on account of the captain, as well as on their own account, to have saved the vessel through so much peril, and as a result, to have anything at all to share. chapter xxii. the wreck of the "providentia." "what dangers press'd, when seas ran mountain high, when tempests raved, and horrors veiled the sky; when prudence fail'd, when courage grew dismayed, when the strong fainted, and the wicked prayed;- then in the yawning gulf far down we drove, and gazed upon the billowy mount above; till up that mountain swinging with the gale, we view'd the horrors of the watery vale!" _crabbe._ a dark stormy december night had been followed by a gloomy morning, a heavy gale had been blowing for some hours from the north-east, and thick drifting snow-squalls still further threw heavy shadows over the sea, and added greatly to the perils of the dangerous navigation around the goodwin. the men on ramsgate pier said to each other, "it is _likely weather_." likely for disaster and for the need of their services; they therefore keep a careful watch, but the snow and drifting fog-clouds shut out the goodwin sands and the light-vessels from their view, and so the men can only wait on, speculating upon the possibility of some unseen tragedy being worked out amid the darkness and the wrath of waters that surround the goodwin. it is now after breakfast-time, about nine o'clock, the weather is too bad for much ordinary work to be going on, and so a large number of boatmen assemble in the look-out houses and at the head of the pier watching the storm. many are the spy-glasses which are every now and then pointed seaward, scanning any break in the storm-drift; three or four men are at the end of the pier by the watch-house; one of them fancies that he can make out a dark line 'mid the grey gloom; he watches carefully, a sheet of fog lifts for a moment; "yes, there is! i see a ship on the goodwin!" "where? where?" and another man looks at the direction of his spy-glass, and points his own the same way. no; he can see nothing; and the man himself can now see nothing; it was just a glimpse, that was all, and the cloud closed in upon the sands and wrapt them in darkness again. "but are you positive you saw anything?" they ask the man. "i am just as sure of it as i am that i am standing here." "what was she like?" "she seemed a large ship with only two masts standing, and high up on the sands." "well, if you saw her once, and are certain of it, once is as good as fifty times. away then for the life-boat." hurrying up the pier to give the alarm, they shout to some boatmen who are at work helping to stow cargo on board a dutch steamer--the _orient_: "a vessel on the goodwin; life-boat! life-boat!" immediately the men throw down whatever they have in their hands, spring to the gunwale, and are out of the ship, up the steps, on the pier, and running for the life-boat in a moment; and this to the intense astonishment of the dutch mate, who had not heard the cry of life-boat. he runs along the deck on to the poop, and shakes his fist at the men, shouting after them, "you be bad men you! you be bad men! what for you run away? you come here work no more!" the honest-hearted fellow was, however, more than appeased, when he was told that it was to rush on board the life-boat; to go out in that wild dark storm and terrible sea to the rescue of life, that the men had so suddenly deserted their work and fled from the vessel. one of the pier men runs to the harbour-master, and reports that a large ship has been seen ashore on the goodwin; the harbour-master hurries to the pier-head, but the lift in the storm has settled down thicker than ever; he can see nothing; he, and all with him, listen attentively for any report of a gun from the goodwin light-vessels, but can hear nothing; they cross-question the man who saw the wreck. the harbour-master thinks he may have been mistaken--that it was probably a ship sailing through the gull channel that he saw. no! the man is positive that it was a ship on the goodwin, and nothing else; and so the harbour-master, although they can hear no signal from the light-vessels, decides upon sending the life-boat, and orders the coxswain to proceed to sea. rapid preparation for the start has been going on all this time; and very speedily steamer and life-boat are away in the dark storm speeding their way to the goodwin sands. they get to the north sand light-ship about eleven o'clock, and find a very heavy sea running in the neighbourhood of the sands, with frequent snow-squalls sweeping along. the men on board the light-vessel say that both they, and the men on board the gull light-ship, have been making signals since daylight. (the roar of the storm, and the wind not being on shore, the guns were not heard, and the weather was too thick for any signals to be seen). they report that they had seen a ship on shore on the south-east spit of the sands. away go steamer and life-boat, the crew of both alike eager to make up for lost time, and they soon discover the vessel they are in search of looming out in the mist. they see that she is a complete wreck, and that she is settled down upon the sands, with her bow to the seas; her mizen-mast is gone close to the deck; the seas are running quite over her as they break upon her bow; they mount up and fly over her fore-yard and race along her deck, breaking again upon her deck-house, which they smother in foam. there are no sailors to be seen lashed to the rigging, and it is doubtful whether they can have found shelter anywhere on deck, so great is the rush of water over the ship. indeed, the life-boat men think that it is very improbable that any of the crew can be left on board. nevertheless, they determine to get on board the vessel, and see if they can find any poor exhausted seaman still clinging to some portion of the wreck. there is a very heavy sea running, and they have a short consultation as to the best method of getting alongside the vessel; they determine to go in upon the lee quarter, and make preparation for so doing. now they make in for the wreck; they sail in swiftly; plunge in through the broken water; their anchor is all ready; they watch their distance. over with it; lower the foresail; and they are about to run the life-boat right alongside the vessel, when the man in the bow shouts, "up with your helm; up with it hard; sheer off, sheer off!" up the helm is; swiftly the boat answers, and bears away from the vessel. the mizen-mast, which had been broken off short, has fallen over the quarter of the vessel, and become entangled in the sands, and with the ship's side, and is standing out at right angles to the wreck, right in the way the life-boat was steering. if it had been night-time the boat would have been steered in right upon the wreck of the mast and yards, when in every probability she would have been stove and rolled over by the seas; the men would then have been washed out of her, and it would have been impossible for them to have got back to her again, against the rush of sea and tide and entangled as she would have been in the wreckage of the mast, she could not have floated down to them; as it is, this very catastrophe nearly happens, for the men hardly see the danger in time; it is a moment of great peril, for the boat is being tossed about violently in the broken water, and becomes somewhat entangled in the wreckage; the men lay hold of the cable, and haul upon it with all their strength, and do what they can to check the way of the boat, and help her head round; now they get a good cant out, they throw out some coils of the cable in one cast, they sheer out well, and get clear of the wreck of the mizen-mast; the seas catch the boat and drive it astern of the vessel, the cable runs out its full length and brings the boat up with a strong jerk. the men, on looking at the wreck, are glad to find that there are some of her crew still alive; they can see three men and a boy crouching down, under the shelter of the deck-house, but they must be but a small proportion of the original crew of the ship, for she is a large vessel, and must have had a crew of certainly not fewer than fifteen or sixteen men. "thank god," say the life-boat men, "that they are not all gone, and that we are here in time to try and save some." the shipwrecked men have been crouching there for some hours, and have been getting more and more wretched, cold, wet, exhausted, and hopeless; every now and then they heard the loud boom of a gun from one of the light-vessels, but no life-boat came, and the wreck might at any moment break up; they at first felt confident that a life-boat would certainly soon come to their rescue, and had prepared for her coming by getting a life-buoy with a long line fastened to it, ready to throw overboard. but the hours passed by, the seas broke over the vessel with increasing violence, the storm grew more and more wild, they could not understand why the life-boat did not come, but she did not, and they began to despair of being saved. suddenly, as they crouch under the deck-house in their hopeless misery, they see the life-boat swing round on the tide, and come up to her cable just astern of the ship; never were men more agreeably surprised; it is as a reprieve from death; and they feel their blood course again through their veins, their strength returns, and they start up ready for action; the life-boat men give them a cheer, which they answer with glad cries of welcome. the men on board the wreck throw the life-buoy and line to the life-boat men; there is a tremendous tumble of sea, the life-boat is flying about in all directions, and it is not for some time, and not until after much trouble, that they succeed in getting the life-buoy on board the boat. all hands lay hold of the rope, and do their utmost to haul the life-boat nearer to the wreck; but the heavy gale, the rush of the sea, and the strong tide, are all directly against her, her cable is straining to the utmost, and they cannot get her to move in the least; they struggle on, and on, but it is all in vain. "pull, men, pull! now all together, as the seas pass; now, try and get a foot or two ahead." not an inch, strain and pull as they will. "look out! look out! let go; take care of yourselves!" too late; a tremendous sea comes rushing over the vessel, right over the life-boat, beats her back with a wrench and jerk that tears one of the timber heads, to which the rope is fastened, right out of her, knocks down by its great weight five or six of the men, who are holding on to the rope, hurts two or three of them somewhat severely, and buries the boat in its very flood of water; for a moment she is swamped, and beaten right away from the wreck; she lifts again, in a few seconds rises to her water-line; she frees herself of water, the men spring to their feet. "are all there? are any washed out of her?" "all right! all right!" "thank god! now at it again, my men." happily the anchor still holds, and the boat's cable brings the boat up. but what is to be done to save the poor crew? they feel that it is quite impossible for them to haul the boat any nearer to the ship. to their great surprise, they see the captain spring up from the lee of the deck-house, hurriedly take off his oilskin coat, throw it into the water, and then jumping on the gunwale, grasp the hawser that holds the boat, and slide down it into the boiling sea. a huge wave breaks over him, and washes him away from the rope; he now tries to swim to the boat, but the life-boat is not directly astern, the sheer she has to her cable that is fastened to the anchor which was thrown over some distance to the side of vessel, prevents her dropping right astern; and although the captain has but to swim a few yards out of the direction of the sweep of sea and tide, it is impossible for him to manage it. he is perfectly overwhelmed by the boil of sea, tossed wildly up and down, wave after wave beating over him, it is all that he can do to keep his head above water, and cannot guide his course in the least; the boatmen try all they can to make the boat sheer towards him, so as to reach him, or to throw him a rope, but it is impossible, they cannot get sufficiently near; and in a few seconds they see him swept rapidly by in the swift tide; jarman, the coxswain of the boat, seizes a life-buoy, and throws it with all his force towards him; the wind catches it and helps the throw; it falls near him; he makes a spring forward and reaches it; the men gladly see that he has got it; they see him put his two hands upon one side as if to get upon it; as he leans forward it falls over his head like a hoop; he gets his arms through it, and shouting to the boatmen "all right," he waves his hand as if to beckon to them to follow him, and goes floating down in the strong tide and among the raging leaping seas in a strange wild dance, that threatens indeed to be a dance of death. it is with deep feelings of dismay and sorrow that the boatmen see him thus drifting away, sea after sea breaking over him; they think it impossible that he can live long; they watch him as far as they can see him; he rises now and again on a sea, and waves his hand to them, but soon disappears from their view, and they seem to have wished him for ever good-bye, for if they go after him at once they will not be able to get back to the ship again, perhaps for hours; and there are two men and a boy still on board whom they must not desert; they must do what they can for these poor fellows first, and then they will hasten away in search of the poor captain, although they have but little hope of then finding him alive, even if they find him at all. at once they are reminded of the dread peril the men on board the ship are in; for a tremendous crash like a peal of thunder startles them all; and looking round they see the tall mainmast of the ship fall swiftly over on the port side of the vessel. the men on board give a loud cry--the terrible crash and rend and shock of the falling mast appals them to the uttermost; it is as if the wreck was breaking to pieces in one vast wrench beneath their feet. the chief mate springs wildly to the starboard quarter, and seizes the end of the mainbrace, which is hanging there; he makes it fast round his waist; and with a rapid spring, and with arms outstretched towards the boat, he jumps into the sea; he is a fine powerful young man, and a very good swimmer; but what can he do in a tide and sea so tremendous that twelve strong men cannot haul the boat one foot against them? and so a fearful tragedy is worked out before the boatmen's eyes; they make every effort to sheer the boat towards the man, but in vain; the tide sweeps him at once away on the lee-bow of the boat; he struggles fearfully hard for his life; the sea takes him and throws him away to the full extent of the rope, which tightens round his waist; the strain of the rope draws him back a little; he falls in the trough of the sea; he is just in the thick of the surf, in the break of the waves, and they curl over him and beat him down beneath their weight, and then again the next rushing wave catches him and flings him out, till he is brought up with a jerk as the rope tightens, that seems almost to tear him in pieces; now he is thrown high in the air on the crest of a wave, now he is buried in a sea, rolled over and over; sheering here and there, as the tangled waves catch him, first on one side, then on the other, but never nearer the life-boat; every now and then he strikes out wildly as if to make a last effort, and cries aloud in his agony and despair. it is indeed a most piteous sight, and it moves the boatmen to the very heart; the poor drowning fellow so near and they unable to render him the least help. they cannot remain doing nothing, although they feel fully assured that all they attempt must be in vain; they haul with all their power on the cable to try and get nearer to the ship when they might sheer down upon the poor fellow; but the sea is raging over them as much as ever, and they cannot get the boat to move at all; the waves rush over the boat in rapid succession, and as they do so the men have to crouch down and cling with all their force to the thwarts, and struggle hard to prevent being washed out of her. as each sea passes, up they spring and again try to haul in the cable; the poor drowning sailor is ahead of the boat, on the starboard bow; if the line which he has round his waist were only a few fathoms longer he might be saved; it would be madness for any of the boatmen to jump overboard to get at him, they would be instantly swept astern of the boat, without a hope of saving him, and at great and useless risk of their own lives; they try and throw the lead-line over the rope which holds the poor fellow; hoping that if they can succeed in doing so, that he may manage to get hold of it, and loosing himself from the rope which fastens him to the ship, be hauled on board the boat; but the boat is pitching and tossing so much that it is hard work attempting to throw the line, but again and again they make the effort. "now he rises on a wave: now try; heave with a will, well clear of his head. ah! missed again; look out, hold on all;" a wave rushes over them, boat and all; another half-minute and they make another attempt; no! all in vain, each time it falls short; the struggle cannot last long; strong and young as the man is, his strength cannot possibly endure long in such a conflict; his cries grow more feeble and soon cease; they see him try and get back to the ship, climbing up the rope, but his strength fails, and he falls back; his arms and legs are still tossed wildly about, but it is by the action of the waves; his head drops and sinks; yes! it is all over!--all over! with him; and it is with intense sorrow that the boatmen realize that all hope of saving him is at an end--that he is dead. chapter xxiii. hardly saved. "much would it please you sometimes to explore the peaceful dwellings of our borough poor; to view a sailor just returned from sea, his wife beside, a child on either knee, and others crowding near, that none may lose the smallest portion of the welcome news.... the trembling children look with steadfast eyes, and panting, sob involuntary sighs; and sleep awhile his torpid touch delays, and all is joy, and piety, and praise." _crabbe._ the second mate and cabin-boy still remain on board the wreck; they have watched with the greatest horror and dread the terrible death of the chief mate, and are themselves almost in absolute despair. the seas continue to wash over the ship with great violence; the deck-house, under the protection of which the sailors have been crouching, begins to break up, and wrench, and tear, and is carried away piecemeal; the second mate, as the wreck wrestles and writhes beneath him, under the rush of a huge wave, fears that it is going to break up altogether, that the ship's last moment is come, and he throws himself upon the rope by which the life-boat is made fast to the ship, and begins to make his way along it; it is almost level with the water, for the wreck has so worked herself down in the sands that her gunwale is but four or five feet above the sea; the breakers rush over the poor fellow as he painfully struggles on; he is again and again buried by the waves, but he clings on; and half working his way, half carried by the seas and tide, he reaches the high bow of the life-boat, which is leaping, and falling, and jerking, tearing the hawser to which the sailor is clinging, up and down through the seas, as if trying its utmost violence to jerk him from his hold. but still he holds on, his hands convulsively clutching the rope as his body is being swayed and thrown violently about; he is exhausted, and breathless--he is half drowned; his face is pale as death, his jaw drops, he seems about to swoon; in another moment he will be gone; he gives a wild despairing look at the life-boat, and as the waves dash him against it, makes an effort to grasp it; the man in the bow of the boat has been watching his every movement, has shuddered with dismay as he saw the seas wash over him, expecting him to be carried away in the strong tide. no! he still grasps the rope, and at last is within reach; in one spring, and with a cry to his mates, "hold me! hold me!" the boatman throws himself upon the raised foredeck of the life-boat, and with his body half stretched over the stem, he grasps the collar of the sailor; the drowning man throws his arm around the boatman's neck, and clings to him convulsively, by his weight dragging the man's head down and burying it in the water; but the brave fellow clings as hard to the half-dead sailor as the sailor does to him; the seas wash bodily over them and over the bow of the boat; up and down the boat plunges them both, but he still holds on; three or four of the boatmen have hold of his legs, and are doing their utmost to pull him back into the boat, but they cannot do so, and so the struggle goes on; it is only as the boat rises on a wave and throws her bow up in the air that the men can breathe. now a shout of horror, and a cry--"look-out! look out! sheer the boat, quick! quick! port--port your helm!" for right down upon the bow of the boat, tossing on the huge seas, and borne swiftly by the tide comes the wreck of one of the ship's largest and heaviest boats; it has been entangled in the mast, which is hanging over the side of the ship, but it has now washed free, and comes driving down as if to stave in the bow of the boat, and crush to death the two poor fellows hanging on to the side:--the boat sheers a little; a cross wave catches the wreckage, and it just sweeps clear. thank god! is the cry of every man in the boat. the boatmen cannot get the two men in over the high bow of the boat, and the poor fellows are drowning fast; and so they drag the life-boatman by his legs along the side of the boat, he still clinging to the sailor, and get him to the waist of the boat where the gunwale is very low; some of the men can now catch hold of the sailor, they drag him on board, and the boatman is pulled in by his legs. the brave fellow is very exhausted by his great and gallant exertions; but he has saved the man's life, and that is every consolation to him; the mate of the vessel is almost unconscious. if the boatman had not clung to him as the seas broke over them both, he must have let go his hold and soon have been beaten under by the waves, for he was quite incapable of any further exertion. the boatmen again turn their attention to the wreck; they have been so much engaged with the two men struggling in the water, that they have not been able to think of the poor boy still clinging to the vessel in loneliness and fear. the deck-house has by this time been completely washed away, and no longer affords him any protection. the poor little fellow is clinging to the gunwale, holding on to the cleats; and he is calling out in good english, and in the most piteous tones, o save me! o save me! o do save me! he is only thirteen years old. the boatmen answer him back; and much as they have passed through, it affects them very deeply to see the poor child in his fear, and misery, and danger, to hear his cries and sobs, and not to know how to help him. continually he is completely buried in the seas, and it seems wonderful that he can hold on; each time the waves rush over the wreck, the boatmen expect to find him washed away like a cork, but he still holds on, and again and again his piteous pleading voice is heard 'mid the roar of the storm--"o save me! o save me! o be quick and save me!"--"what can we do? what can we do?" the boatmen ask each other in tones of real sorrow and dismay; there is not a man among them who is not ready to risk his own life to save the boy, but nothing can be done. it is impossible for them to climb on board the wreck by the rope with which the life-boat is fastened to the vessel, for the wreck is now so overrun by the tide that the bend of the rope is continually under water, and the wreckage of the vessel's masts is washing over it; moreover, although it was possible for a man to come down the rope, the sea and tide making with him, it would be impossible for a man to work his way up the rope against such a tremendous rush of water and breaking surf as are continually sweeping over it. the steamer is not in sight, or they might be tempted to go to her, get towed to windward again, and try to run in upon the wreck and grapple her closer; but this would be almost impossible, so wild is the sea on the weather side, and on the lee side the wreck of one of the masts is flying about in the broken water in a way, which would at once prove fatal to the life-boat if she got entangled with it. and so all they can do is to wait on, till the tide slackens, when perhaps they will be able to haul the life-boat up to the wreck, and save the boy. but while the tide runs so fiercely they can only wait, and watch the poor little lad. they do not forget the captain of the vessel, they will go in search of him by-and-by, but they conclude that all life must have been beaten out of him long since; and they must not leave the living to go and search for the body of one whom they think must very certainly be by this time dead. a short time, and the tide rapidly slackens, an eddy comes rushing through some channel in the sands, and the boat begins to sheer about wildly; and is soon in danger of being crushed against the wreckage of the masts, which is heaving and tossing about among the very heaviest of the seas. "we must make an effort soon," the coxswain cries; "make ready, my men; try and keep the wreckage clear; haul the boat up to the ship sharp, when i tell you: we will soon have the poor little chap." scarcely are the words shouted out by the coxswain when some of the men give a cry--"what's that! look out! yes, he is overboard, washed over by that big sea. where is he? where is he? there he is! no! only his cap, there he lifts on that sea--he is coming straight for the boat."--from the change and eddy of the tide, the rush of the sea past the boat is not nearly as rapid as it was, and the poor boy comes floating slowly from the ship; once or twice he has been rolled under by the waves, now he is on the surface again, and near the boat. "here he comes! look! on that wave! lost! no, he floats again; slacken the hawsers; now he is within reach, carefully, quick; now you have got him; he is making no effort, and floating with his head under water;" a boatman manages to hook his jacket with a long boat-hook, and pulls him towards the boat--gently the men lift him in, sorrowfully; and tears are in the eyes of more than one, as they look upon the small face. "poor little chap! too late! too late! he is gone," they say--and think that the delicate little face and slender childlike form suggest that he is fitted rather for quiet home scenes, and home care, than for such scenes of hardship and peril as he has had to endure. "now, my men," shouts the coxswain; "stations all! put the poor boy down here in the stern-sheets. if we do not look sharp we shall be driven upon the wreck, and likely enough all lost." "ay! ay! all right. get the foresail clear! all clear,--hoist as the boat sheers; stand by to cut the cable, and ship's ropes; hoist away! now she pays round; cut the cable; all gone; round the boat flies; away she goes before the wind. make all fast. now come and look to the poor lad again;" and some of the boatmen with tender fatherly pity in their hearts, take up the little fellow. they chafe his hands and rub his back and limbs, and his chest over his heart, with strong rum, put a little rum to his lips, and persevering as well as they can, following the instructions given to all life-boat men, for recovering the apparently drowned, after about half an hour they have the joy of seeing him show signs of life; the men who can be spared from working the boat continue their care of him; his circulation returns, and he can drink a little water; some of the men take off their jackets which have been kept dry by their waterproof overalls, and wrap him up in them; they then spread the mizen sail above him, to prevent the seas breaking over him; and the poor lad lies quiet, gradually recovering his strength. during this time, the coxswain and the men have been consulting about the poor captain, who floated away with the life-buoy round him some two hours before; and they determine to run down the stream-reach in search of him, dead or alive. but alive scarcely for one moment can they hope to find him. the stream-reach or stream-wreckage, as it is called, is where the currents setting down on either side of the sands meet on the highest part. most of the wreckage is washed up into it, and what remains of a lost ship or cargo will often be kept in this stream, and float away in one long line some miles to leeward. along this stream-reach, and in the heaviest of the seas, the men steer the life-boat, all keeping a keen look-out for the body of the lost captain. they look back at the wreck several times as they speed away; and they soon see the foremast of the vessel go over the side; the hull of the vessel seems also to heave over, and that is the last that is seen of the _providentia_, for by the next morning her hull is completely torn to pieces, the lower part buried in the sands, and the remaining portion utterly swept away. they run down the stream-reach for about two miles; when one of the men fancies that he can see an arm waving. all look in the direction pointed out; and to their astonishment they see the captain in the life-buoy; as he rises on the sea, he shouts to them and again waves his arm. the coxswain at once steers the boat for him, but the seas are so heavy that they knock the boat to leeward, and they just miss him. the brave fellow shouts, "all right!" as they pass a few yards from him. the boatmen lose no time; they take the mizen-sail which covers the mate and lad, set it with all possible haste, shake out all reefs in the foresail, head the boat round, and sail well to windward of the captain; almost capsizing the boat under her press of canvas, so eager are they; they keep a good look-out for him, for the seas are leaping so violently that it is a hard thing to keep the poor fellow in view, and at last they lose sight of him altogether. as soon as the boat is well to windward they make across the stream-reach, then sail down it, and soon catch sight of the captain again; they lower the mizen and run straight for him; soon they down with the foresail to lessen the speed of the boat, for fear they should over run him, and manage to drop gently down by his side. they lay hold of him and drag him into the boat; the exertion of being pulled in over the side of the boat, and the reaction after his fearful time of suffering and suspense, is too much for his remaining strength, and he seems dying in the men's hands; they try and get him to swallow a little rum, but he cannot do so, and faints. the men now set sail and make for the gull light-ship; they see the steamer coming round the south sands head in search of them; she takes the boat in tow, and they proceed towards ramsgate. in the meanwhile some of the men have been doing all they can for the captain, rubbing his back and limbs, and doing all they possibly can to restore his circulation; he soon gets a little better, and is able to tell them that his ship was a russian ship, the _providentia_, from finland, and that he is a russian fin; this last fact enables the men to account for his wonderful powers of endurance in his long exposure to the beating of the waves and to the coldness of the water, for the finlanders are the hardiest of all sailors. he also tells the men, that the _providentia_ was a full rigged ship of 700 tons, bound from newcastle to the mediterranean with coals. that they had run ashore about eleven or twelve o'clock the night before, in thick weather. that they made signals, which the light-vessels answered. that they had seen the light-vessels signal to the shore; and as he knew that he was near ramsgate, he felt sure that the life-boat would come out to their rescue; he therefore tried to persuade the crew, eleven in number, to remain by the ship; but that they took the big boat, and left the ship in so heavy a sea that he feared they must all be lost (they were blown over on the french coast, and at last got into boulogne). upon reaching ramsgate the captain, mate, and the boy were carried to the sailors' home, being too weak to walk, and were well cared for. the captain made a long statement as to the gallant services of the life-boat men, and of his deep gratitude to them. we may as well add, that as some of the men, who had run away so suddenly from their work on board the dutch steamer, to make a rush for the life-boat, were walking upon the pier, they saw the dutch mate hurrying to them, evidently in a state of excitement. halloo! what's up now? think the men, remembering how the mate had shouted after them as they left the vessel. halloo! what's up now? but the honest fellow comes to them, and shaking them heartily by the hands, says with deep feeling,--"me sorry me called you bad men for running away from the steamer. you good men! you good men! _me give you_ more work if me can." chapter xxiv. saved at last. the fatal goodwin sands. "there are to whom that ship was dear for love and kindred's sake, when these the voice of rumour hear, their inmost heart shall quake, shall doubt, and fear, and wish, and grieve, believe, and long to unbelieve, but never cease to ache; still doom'd, in sad suspense, to bear the hope that keeps alive despair." _j. montgomery._ do we not often find in the winter evening that our warm rooms seem more cosy, and the flames to lap more brightly and closely round the half-consumed log, as a blast of wind moans in the chimney, and perhaps the cry of some poor street hawker tells its plain tale of toiling misery as it goes shiveringly along the streets? do we not find our sensations of personal comfort increased, and our sympathy for the sufferer quickened, as the wintry gale and slashing rain beat against our well-shuttered windows, and suggest the hardships we should have to endure if we were less cared for and less protected? but if we may learn the deeper to realize our blessings, and the more to enlarge our sympathies, as we contrast our respective positions with such as are endured by many of the poor toilers on shore, truly still more may we do so as we consider the trials and hardships endured by many of the toilers at sea. jamb down the window harder to prevent those few drops of rain bubbling in, draw the curtain closer and check that one breath of draught; and now think of those of your fellow-men who are breasting the storm in its wildest rage, out in the full perils and dense darkness of the night, where cruel winds and mad seas attack them in all their dread force; but neither daunt their courage, check their efforts, nor frustrate their skill; their errand is to save, and all personal considerations are lost in the grandness and hope of their enterprise. thinking of these things, we shall not fail again and again to render our ready and full-hearted sympathy, not only for the shipwrecked, crying aloud in their quick peril and deep agony for rescue, but also for the poor brave-hearted boatmen of our coasts, who never hesitate to do all and to dare all when the prospect before them is that of saving life. let us recall again some of the features in the lives of those whom we may well call the "storm warriors" of seafaring life, who not only find their bread upon the waters, but upon the most troubled waters of the most storm-lashed seas; who, the darker the night, the sterner the tempest, the more blinding the snowdrift, are the more full of expectation that their services will be required, and are therefore the more determined to urge their way out into the storm, to be ready to render aid at the first call for assistance, and perhaps to pluck a harvest of saved lives off the very edge of the scythe of death. yes, my readers, i would once again carry you in thought far away from quiet home scenes and peaceful associations, from the pleasant nooks and sunny corners of memories which you delight to recall, upon which you love to let your thoughts half consciously ponder; but i ask you to take the joy of your home peace--the gladness of your blessings--with you, that you may be quickened in every chord of sympathy as you let me draw your thoughts away into the dread darkness, which is only broken by spectral sheens of light shed by flying foam, there to picture the rolling sea-mountains hurling along their avalanches of white spray; to listen to the dread discords of a howling tempest; to hover in fancy mid a scene of fierce turmoil and strife, where the elements in their rage seem to have cast off all bonds to their fury, and to have determined to sweep from their path every vestige of man and his works; and now to let your eyes centre upon a shattered wreck, to which are clinging a few storm-beaten sailors trembling upon the very verge of a grave. are you practically interested in life-boat work, then you have a message to them in their hour of agony; you would have a message to many a loving wife and innocent child if they could now realize the danger of those they love, upon whom they depend. and your whisper is of rescue and of hope. look where a fitful light gleams in the darkness; now rides high on the crest of a huge wave, now falls buried in the trough of the sea, shines out again, is hidden in a cloud of spray, but pressing on and on, getting nearer each moment to the shipwrecked. the light gleams from a life-boat in which a small band of men are battling,--battling on in the teeth of the fierce storm. no terrors stay them, no failures quell their courage and their zeal; are not fellow-men held captive and threatened with death by fierce and cruel seas? and shall they, the storm warriors, not be ready at every peril, and at every hardship, and against all difficulties to make in to their rescue. in such scenes we see the men actually at their work in their efforts to save life and property; but the life-boat work does not merely consist in doing the work at the moment of its necessity, but also in the unwearying watch and readiness for when that time of emergency shall come. many a ramsgate boatman leaves his poor, but warm and comfortable home, his humble and loving home circle, to pace ramsgate pier for hours, and this, night after night, for many winter months, and for the mere chance of being among the first to make a rush for the life-boat when the signal is given to man her,--a chance that may not come a dozen times in the season, and which, when it does come, may afford indeed a grand opportunity for daring all and doing all for the saving of life, but not for doing much in the way of refilling the half-empty cupboards at home, or rubbing off the debts that have been gradually growing during the winter season. and in this, the last tale, i propose telling of the doing of the storm warriors, the life savers, who watch and struggle mid the fierce seas of the goodwin sands, i have deeds to relate done by our brave boatmen--acts of daring and determination--for which i claim a place amid the records of the bravest, grandest deeds of heroism of the age; a tale to tell which, unless i fail utterly in the telling--and this god forbid--i reverently pray, and pray it for the sake of noble deeds done, and for the sake of the good life-boat cause--a tale which must excite sympathy for those in suffering and in peril from the dangers of the sea; and sympathy and high esteem for the daring and unselfish workers of brave works;--a tale, the echoes of which may well stir, as a trumpet peal, stout hearts to perseverance and brave deeds, to do and dare all in god's name, and for the right, whatever storms of opposition may impede their onward course, and stand between them and their high and holy aim. the early days of the new year were bleak and cold; strong northerly and easterly winds swept over land and sea; people on shore spoke of the weather as being seasonable, but shuddered over the word. at ramsgate, on the 5th of january, it was a fresh breeze from the east-south-east, and the anxious boatmen were as usual keeping a good look-out. about half-past eight in the morning, the booming of signal guns was heard; the signals came from both the goodwin and the gull light-ships. the boatmen, who had been watching all night in momentary expectation of such a signal, speedily manned the life-boat. the steamer, the _aid_, was soon ready, with her brave crew full of courage and hardihood, and full of zeal as ever to second every effort made by the life-boat men in saving life. the steamer is steered for the north sands head light-vessel. as they were making their way across the gull stream, they saw what proved to be a shipwrecked crew in their own boat; they took them on board the steamer, and found that they were the crew, eight in number, of the schooner _mizpah_, of brixham. the schooner had stranded on the goodwin in a thick fog the night previously; the weather was still thick, and the men could give no account of the position of their vessel, and thought that it was hopeless to try and find her, and that it would be useless to try and get her off if they did find her, and so the steamer took the boat in tow and returned to ramsgate. it proved afterwards that the vessel floated off the sands at high water. a broadstairs hovelling-lugger, while cruising about, fell in with her, and succeeded in bringing her into ramsgate. the vessel and cargo were worth â£6000 or â£7000; the broadstairs men obtained â£350 as salvage. the life-boatmen were glad to take a few hours' rest after their night's watch and morning's work, they therefore found their way homewards, leaving, however, plenty of ready and able boatmen to watch on the pier, eager to make up another crew should a call for their services be made. the cold became hour by hour more intense, and the fresh breeze steadily grew; as the tide made, the sea broke over the pier in heavy clouds of spray, thundered down upon it, and poured over it in foaming cascades into the harbour. the evening grew on, the gale became terrific; heavy snow-storms went sweeping by, showers of freezing sleet rushed on before the wind, and the night was as dreary and dismal, as dark and cold, as night could well be. at about half-past ten the storm was in its full fury, and the sea a very howling wilderness of raging waters. at that moment the boom of a signal gun made itself heard, in spite of the roar of the wind and sea, and rockets were soon seen streaming up from the gull light-ship. "the life-boat was manned with despatch," would be the short report the coxswain would afterwards make to the harbour-master. this means, that directly the signal was given, all was astir at the pier-head, the harbour-men on watch hurried themselves to lose no moment in getting the life-boat ready for sea; that the crew of the steamer also made all zealous speed; that the boatmen, in spite of the piercing cold and terrific gale, rush along the pier, hurry down the harbour steps, spring into the boat, and at once set to work in preparing her for sea, as readily as schoolboys bound down the school stairs and out on to the common for the joy of a summer holiday. it takes the steamer and life-boat about one hour and a half to urge their way through the terrible storm into the neighbourhood of the gull light-ship; the crews speak her about one in the morning, and are told that the men on board saw, some time since, a large light burning south-east by south, but they had lost sight of it for about twenty minutes. the steamer at once tows the boat in the direction described; a careful look-out is kept; the snow-storms come down more darkly than ever, and the men find it bitterly cold, as they are continually overrun by the foam and spray, and by the broken crests of the waves, which are very wild and running mountains high; still on and on the brave fellows battle their way, but they can discover no signs of any signal-light. the crew hold a consultation as to what is best to be done; there appears no possibility of any of the crew of the vessel which gave the signals of distress being still alive; she must have broken up at once, in so tremendous a sea, and it would be impossible for any poor fellow to float clinging to any piece of wreckage in the midst of such a terrific turmoil of water. still some other vessel may be in danger; the night is wild and dark enough for disaster after disaster to occur; and so the men determine to wait and watch for any signal of distress, and not seeing one, to remain in the neighbourhood of the sands at all events until daylight, that they may feel sure before they leave the sands that they are not turning their backs upon any whom they might leave to perish in the storm for want of their aid. and so, my readers, while most of you, if not all, were quietly in your beds (the wakeful ones of you perchance listening wistfully to the storm, and perhaps having your hearts moved to great pity and deep prayer for the poor fellows at sea), these brave boatmen, from choice, and not for the hope of money reward, but for the far dearer hope of saving life, waited on and on, by those gloomy storm-beaten sands, a prey to all the fierceness of the gale, the raging seas, and deadly cold. time after time the mad rushing waves break over the boat, burying her in clouds of spray and foam, or, coming in heavier volume still, bury her and the men for a moment or two completely under water. it is to the crew something more than intense discomfort; their sufferings become very great, yet they will not give in; they do all that they can to encourage each other, and still let the boat lay to. willing as every man is to endure to the utmost, they soon find that it is getting beyond their strength; they feel as if frozen through and through, and are rapidly getting numbed and exhausted with the continual wash and beating over them of the heavy seas. there is no help for it, and unwillingly they make a signal for the steamer, and are towed back to ramsgate, arriving between four and five in the morning. the name of the vessel that was lost during that terrible night was never known; the greedy sands soon swallowed up every vestige of the ship; her name may perhaps be found among the missing ships at lloyds'. hope, doubtless, long lingered, may still linger, in many mournful homes; still the story be told to wondering children, how their father or their brother sailed on such a day from a foreign port, and has not since been heard of; but no clue has ever yet been found as to which of the many missing vessels it was that came to such sudden destruction in that dread night on the goodwin sands. shall we linger another moment or two in thought over the poor fellows thus lost in the fierce seas. we fancy that the bronzing of a tropical sun was still ruddy upon their cheeks; a few weeks since they were ready to rest 'neath the shadow of the sails, and lie about the deck at night; and then speeding north they were met in the chops of the channel by the rough welcome of a strong adverse wind, against which they sought, day and night, to beat their way, while the sails and cordage grew hard and stiff with frozen rain and spray. favoured at last with a slant of wind, the vessel finds her way up channel; the crew already feel the hardship and dangers of their voyage at an end, as they begin to count the hours until they shall be in dock; night falls as they pass the south foreland. the wind goes moaningly back to the old direction; hour after hour it increases, a gale sweeps along in dread force, the blinding snow bewilders the pilot, who can now see no guiding light, and soon in the darkness of the night, the force of the wind, and the swirl of the tide, the vessel is driven through the raging surf on to the sands. the crew make a rush for the boats; useless; they would not live a moment in such a boil of sea. the waves fly over the vessel, now lift her, and then let her crash with the force of all her weight down upon the sands; now they beat with tremendous force against her, and shake her each moment to her keel; the captain burns a blue light, the spray washes it out, the men hasten to get a tar-barrel on deck, knock in the top, fill it with combustibles, and light it; it flares up, and for a time resists the rush of spray with which the air is full; the light-vessel sees the signal, fires a gun and a rocket; the life-boat starts upon her mission, but the waves close in upon the doomed ship in fierce hungry strife, lifting and crashing her down time after time; the decks are soon swept of everything that the force of water can tear from them, the tar-barrel is washed out; the men can no longer remain on the deck, but have to take refuge in the rigging, where they lash themselves to the shrouds, and they wait on in darkness and despair; a tremendous wave comes boiling along, it lifts the vessel, and almost rolls her over; the strong masts snap like reeds; the ship fills and sinks in the hole she has worked by her rolling and beating in the quicksand. another half-hour, perhaps, and the life-boat is there; too late! only the tangled spars and cordage and broken pieces of wreck float near--tokens of the death and destruction that have been wrought: and a fine ship has been thus utterly and speedily destroyed--and all living things on board being swiftly engulfed, have found their graves in the strife of that deadly sea. chapter xxv. saved at last. we will not go home without them. "o, the most piteous cry of the poor souls! sometimes to see 'em, and not to see 'em; now the ship boring the moon with her mainmast, and anon swallowed with yest and froth; how the poor souls roared, and the sea mocked them." _winter's tale._ as soon as it is daylight the coxswain of the life-boat and others of the boatmen feel very anxious; they fear that, when driven in by exhaustion on the previous night, they may, after all, have left some poor fellows clinging to a remnant of wreck; or perhaps have left a ship on the sands, lost in the darkness of the night, and unable to make any signal of distress; the men cannot rest, and although the life-boat has only been in a few hours, the coxswain of the boat and the mate of the steamer go to the harbour-master, tell him their fears, and ask his permission to put to sea again and to search round the sands. the permission is readily given--"go by all means," and the men are encouraged to make their search. ten fresh hands join the coxswain and the bowman of the life-boat; and soon after daylight they start on their dangerous and merciful mission. they are towed again by the steamer _aid_, and make for the north sands head light-vessel, keeping a good look-out for the faintest signal of distress. the men discover nothing on the north side of the sands, and they determine to work their way to the back of the sands, on the french side, and there pursue their search. soon they see in the misty distance what seems to be a large vessel on the south-east spit of the sands; they tow with all speed in her direction; they are proceeding along the edge of the sand, just outside the broken water. the waves are rolling along in all their fury, and beat down upon the sands with tremendous force; the surf flying up in great sheets of foam, and the roar of the breakers is like loud quivering thunder; the scene is enough to make the stoutest heart quail; but, without one thought of flinching from whatever lies before them, the men cling to the life-boat as the seas break over them, and patiently bear all the cold and storm, and wash of water, as they are towed on nearer and nearer to the wreck. one of the men said afterwards, in answer to questions as to what his feelings were as he watched the tremendous seas, and knew that shortly he would be battling for his life in the midst of them, "well, sir, i think that at all such times a man must naturally have his inward feelings; soldiers say that they have theirs, and i am very sure that we have ours; a man can't help knowing the danger, and thinking about it, and feeling about it too; but we are not going to be made cold-hearted about it, or we shouldn't be out there. we can't help seeing that we've got hard work before us, and we determine by god's help to do it, and we won't flinch. we hope to save others, and feel that we shall do our best to do so, but at the same time we know that we may lose our own lives in making the attempt. we think about this sometimes as we are sitting in the boat, holding on against the wash of the seas, but when we get to the wreck we forget all about ourselves, and only think about saving the others." the seas become still heavier and heavier as they get nearer to the wreck and approach a more exposed part of the sands; they now have to encounter one great rush of water, which, urged by the hurricane of wind and the strong tide, comes raging along in unbroken course through the straits of dover. at last they get within a short distance of the wreck, and find her to be a large barque. she has settled down somewhat on the sands, has heeled over a good deal, and huge waves are foaming over her. the men look at the awful rage of sea, hear the tremendous roar with which the mountainous waves break upon the sand, and say to each other, "we have indeed our work cut out for us." the boatmen can see no signs of any of the crew of the vessel being left on board. they may have been swept from the wreck, or have been lost in some vain effort to get to land in their own boat. the flag of distress is still flying, and the steamer tows the boat nearer to the wreck; they can now make out that the crew are crouching down under cover of the deck-house; while the huge waves make a complete breach over the vessel, and threaten every moment to wash the deck-house and the crew away. the steamer tows the boat up to windward. the life-boatmen feel their turn for the battle has come, and make every preparation; they get their sails ready to hoist, make the cable up all clear for paying out; the coxswain sees that they are now far enough to windward, the steamer's tow-rope is cast off; the boat lifts on a huge wave as the strain of the rope is taken off her, they hoist the sail, round she flies in answer to her helm, and she makes in for the wreck; they mount on the top of huge seas, go plunging down into the trough of the waves; the spray flies over them as the gale catches the crests of the towering breakers, and fills the air with clouds of flying foam; a minute more and they are in broken water; the seas rush and leap and recoil, fly high and fall in tangled volumes over the boat; she is tossed in all directions by the wild broken waves, and as she fills again and again with water, becomes almost unmanageable. the men have to cling with all their strength to the thwarts, but still the wind drives the boat on, and they get within about sixty yards of the wreck; the anchor is thrown out, the cable payed out swiftly; the sea is rushing with tremendous force over the ship; the boat sheers in under her lee-quarter; the boatmen cheer to the poor half-dead sailors who are crouching and clinging under shelter of the deck-house. all is hope; "a minute or two more," they think, "and we shall have saved them." a shout from the coxswain of the boat--"hold on! hold on!" a glance upwards, a huge mountain of a wave comes rolling swiftly on, its crest curls over, breaks, falls upon the boat, the men and the boat are carried down by the tremendous weight of water. some of the men seem almost crushed by the blow and pressure of the falling wave; they do not know whether the boat is upset or not, so is she rolled about in the whirl of the broken wave; they cling convulsively to her, she soon floats, lifted by her air-tight compartments, and she frees herself. the men breathe again; they find that the wave that buried them has taken the boat in its irresistible flood, and dragging the anchor with it, has carried it more than one hundred yards away from the ship. the men lift themselves up, clear their faces from the water, shake it from their clothes, and look at the vessel; they determine that, please god, they will yet save the crew. they give a cheer to encourage and give hope to the poor fellows, and without further thought of the dread danger they have but just escaped, prepare for another attempt. they hoist the sail quickly and get the boat's head round, and try and sheer her into the ship; but all their efforts are in vain, wave after wave breaks over them, the boat is tossed in all directions by the broken seas--sometimes the coxswain feels as if he would be thrown bodily forward on the men, as the waves lift the boat almost end on end. again and again are boat and men overrun bodily by the rush of the waves, but the boat behaves splendidly, lifts buoyantly from under the weight of water; her undaunted crew bear up bravely, and all are once more ready for another struggle. they labour on, but without success; they cannot make their way back to the ship: they get the oars out, the waves and wind take them and send them leaping from the rowlocks, and out of the men's hands; they must give it up for this time. all their thoughts are for the poor shipwrecked crew, and the bitter--bitter disappointment they must feel. again they cheer to them, and shout to them, to keep their hearts up--they will soon be at them again; and they make the best of their way back to the steamer. they have failed in their first attempt. the steamer again tows them into position, and they make for the second time boldly in for the wreck; the coxswain steers as near to the stern as possible, avoiding the danger of being washed over it on to the deck of the vessel, and thus crushed to pieces; they get nearer to the vessel than they did before; the shipwrecked crew begin to stir themselves, the boatmen are about to run the boat alongside, when again they are overwhelmed in the rush of a fearful sea, buried in its deluge of broken water, and the boat is again hurled away by the force of the waves, and carried many fathoms from the vessel; the anchor holds, but the tide is running more strongly than ever, and in the direction to carry them right away from the wreck; and so it is hopeless for them to try to get any nearer to her from where they are. the tide has risen and is nearly at its height; the vessel has fallen still more over upon her side; the lee side of the deck is completely under water, the top of the deck-house is just above the sea; the crew have been driven from their old place of shelter, they have lashed a spar across the mizen shrouds, and are all clinging to it, while the heavy waves beat continually over the poor fellows. it is with terrible agony that the crew on board the wreck witness the second failure of the life-boat: "she will never come again," the captain says, in a voice of despair; "the men cannot do it, the very life must have been washed and beaten out of them." great is their astonishment to find that no sooner does the life-boat clear herself of the water that seems almost to drown her, no sooner do the men free themselves from the rush of the foam, which has for a time overwhelmed them, than they begin to cheer again, as if only rendered the more determined by their second defeat; the more courageous by the difficulties and dangers they had already endured; and the shipwrecked crew, encouraged by the hoarse cheers of the exhausted half-drowned boatmen, do not lose all hope. the boat is again towed into position, and for the third time makes in for the wreck. this time they throw the anchor overboard farther from the vessel than before, give longer scope to the cable, sail in well under the ship's stern, and again steer as near as possible to the vessel's lee-quarter, and lower the foresail. they are within a dozen yards of the ship; the bowman heaves a rope with all his force; it falls short of the men in the shrouds to whom he throws it, and the boat sweeps on; they check her with the cable, and bring her head to the ship abreast of her, but unhappily some distance off. the captain of the shipwrecked vessel had despaired of the boat being able to come in the third time; but when he saw her coming, he felt fully convinced that it was their last opportunity of being saved, and determined that if the boat were again swept from the wreck, that he would jump into the sea and try and swim to her. the boat comes and misses, and the crew of the boat see the captain hastily throw off his sea-boots, seize a life-buoy, and prepare to plunge into the sea: they shout to him not to do so, and to the crew to hold him back. "the tide in its set off the sands would sweep him away; the seas would beat his life out of him: they will be back again soon, and won't go home without them." the steamer has followed the boat as closely as possible, running down close to the edge of the sands, just clear of the broken water. the life-boat has swung out to the full length of her cable, and is in deep water; the men upon being beaten away from the wreck for the third time, look round for the steamer, and to their astonishment see her making in straight towards them. the men on board the steamer had watched with increasing anxiety and dismay the defeat of the successive gallant attempts made by the life-boat crew. they had grown more and more excited each time that the life-boat had returned to them, and feel now prepared to run almost any risk whatever to further help the life-boatmen in their brave but as yet unsuccessful efforts to save the crew. and so the steamer makes right in across the broken water, straight for the life-boat; a rope is thrown from the steamer, and is made fast in the life-boat; they now hope, with the steamer's help, to be able to sheer the boat right in upon the wreck. the boatmen have hold of their own cable, to which their anchor is fast; they gradually draw in upon this cable, and the steamer tries to tow the boat nearer and nearer to the vessel, and for the fourth time the life-boat makes in 'mid the wild raging seas for the rescue of the crew. the steamer ventures into the rage of the sea, and her position becomes one of very great peril; she rolls in the trough of the tremendous waves till her gunwales are right under water; the foam and spray dash completely over her, and tons and tons of water deluge her deck. they gradually approach the vessel; the life-boat sheers in; the seas and tide and wind catch her in their full power, and whirl her away again. a huge wave sweeps bodily over the steamer--she is in extreme danger; the life-boatmen watch her in the greatest alarm, fearing each moment that a wave will swamp her--but rolling, plunging, burying herself in the foaming seas, the steamer bravely holds her own, until to remain longer is certain death to all on board; and sorrowfully the crew of the steamer abandon their most gallant attempt, and make out of the rage of broken water. the life-boatmen rejoice to see the steamer get clear of the deadly peril, but they are scarcely in less peril themselves; they cut the steamer's tow-rope, and then find that they must cut their own cable, to avoid being dashed over the wreck; and away they go again driven on before the gale. they look at each other, but only read courage and determination in each other's countenances. beaten off for the fourth time, not one heart fails, not one speaks of giving up the attempt, not one of the brave fellows has any such thought for an instant; their one consideration is what next shall be attempted to save the poor fellows from a speedy and terrible death, which indeed threatens them every minute. thus the only question is, what they shall try next? and weak and exhausted, and almost frozen with cold, but determined, and full of courage and zeal as ever, their one anxiety is for the poor shipwrecked crew, whose peril increases each minute, and they prepare for a fifth effort for their rescue, strong still in their old determination--"that they will not go home without them." chapter xxvi. saved at last. victory or death. "'tis done--despite the winds--the roll of that storm-maddened fearful sea; bravery hath snatched each shivering soul, o greedy death! from thee. then the rough seamen's hands they wring, and some, o'erpowered by bursting feeling, their arms around them wildly fling, while tears down many a cheek are stealing; they bless them for their noble deed, true saviours sent in hour of need." _n. michell._ the ship's hull has now been for some time under water, and it is evident that the wreck is breaking up fast. she has coals and iron on board; this dead weight keeps her steady on the sands, and prevents the waves lifting her and crashing her down, or she would long since have been torn and broken to fragments. as it is, the decks have burst, and the lighter portions of her cargo are being rapidly washed out of her; the sea in some places is black with coal-dust, and much wreckage, pieces of her deck and forecastle are being swept away by the tide. each time that the men on board the steamer and life-boat look at the vessel, count the crew still in the rigging, and find that not any are missing, they think it indeed a wondrous mercy that all should still be safe, and get each moment more impressed with feelings of deep sympathy for the poor fellows, and with the greater eagerness to dare all to save them. daniel reading, the brave, skilful, and long-tried master of the steamer, is ill on shore, and so she is in charge of john simpson, the mate; he and william wharrier, the engineer, consult as to the possibility of making another effort with the steamer, for the tide is setting off the sands with such force that they do not see how it is possible for the life-boat to get in to the wreck and save the crew, and they find that all the men on board the steamer are perfectly prepared to second them in any effort that they decide upon making. they get the mortar-apparatus ready, and again urge the steamer through the seas in the direction of the wreck; they hope to get near enough to the vessel to fire a line from the mortar into the rigging, to which the shipwrecked crew will attach a rope, and then hauling this rope on board the steamer, they will take it to the life-boat's men, who will by it be able to haul the boat through the seas to the wreck. cautiously the steamer approaches; the tide has been for some time rising fast; the steamer does not draw much water; they are almost within firing distance; the waves come rushing along and nearly overrun the steamer; at last a breaker larger than the rest catches her, lifts her high upon its crest, and letting her fall down into its trough as down the side of a wall, she strikes the sands heavily; the engines are instantly reversed, she lifts with the next wave, and being a very quick and handy boat, at once moves astern before she can thump again, and they are saved from shipwreck; and thus the fifth effort to save the shipwrecked crew fails. no time is lost; at once the steamer heads for the life-boat, and makes ready to tow her into position. again not a word--scarcely a thought--about past failures, only eagerness to commence without delay a fresh attempt; the steamer is alongside the life-boat. "look out, my men, here is another rope for you." "all right!" the boatmen answer as they catch the line, and haul the hawser into the boat. "all right! tow us well to windward, give us a good position, plenty of room, we must have them this time. all fast! away you go, hurrah!" the men watch the wreck as they are towed past her. "oh! the poor fellows! to think we have not got them yet. well, we have had a hard struggle for it, but, please god, we will save them yet--we will save them yet!" "ah! look how that wave buries them all; there they are again, let us give them a cheer, it will help them to keep their hearts up." and as the boat rose upon a sea, they shouted and waved to the shipwrecked crew. "there, another breaker has gone right over her; how she heaves and works to it! yes, and do you see how her masts are swinging about, and in different directions? they are getting unstepped and loose; she is breaking up fast, working all over--all of a quiver and tremble! poor fellows! poor fellows! we have not a moment to spare. it must soon be all over, one way or the other!" thus the men speak to each other; they are in a glow of eagerness and excitement, and can scarcely restrain themselves to get quietly to work. for as they watch the poor fellows, and time after time see the waves wash over them in quick succession--and as each wave passes, see them still clinging on--they almost feel as if they could jump at them to try and save them, and in their noble and gallant sympathy and determination lose all sense of weakness, and cold, and exhaustion. when describing their feelings, one of the men said, "we were thoroughly warm at our work, and felt like lions, as if nothing could stop us." it is in this spirit that they now consult together, as to the plan upon which they shall make their next effort. first one scheme is suggested, and then another, but these seem to give no better prospect of success than those that have been already tried in vain. at last one of the men proposes a plan which must indeed either prove rescue to the shipwrecked or death to all. "i tell you what, my men, if we are going to save those poor fellows, there is only one way of doing it; it must be a case of save all, or lose all, that is just it. we must go in upon the vessel straight, hit her between the masts, and throw our anchor over right upon her decks." "what a mad-brained trick!" says one. "why, the boat would be smashed to pieces." "likely enough; but there is one thing certain, is there not? and that is that we are never going home to leave those poor fellows to perish, and i do not believe that there is any other way of saving them, and so we must just try it. and god help us, and them!" not a single word against it now! what, charge in upon the vessel in that mad rage of sea! victory, or death, indeed! most of the men on board the life-boat are married men with families--loved wives, and loved little ones dependent upon them. thoughts of this, tender heartfelt thoughts of home, come to them. "well, and so we have, and have not those poor perishing fellows also got wives and little ones, and are they not thinking of their homes, and loved ones, as much as we are thinking of ours; and shall we go home, having turned back from even the greatest danger, without having tried all it is possible to try; go home to our wives and little ones, and leave them to perish thinking of theirs? no! please god, that shall never be said of us." such thoughts as these pass through the minds of some of the boatmen. and what think the poor nearly drowned crew of the unfortunate vessel. there they are clinging to the loose and shaking rigging; a few feet above the boil of the hungry and raging sea. they have seen effort after effort made, and effort after effort fail; they have watched the men do more than they ever dreamt it was possible for men to do; and they have watched the life-boat live, and battle with seas with which they never thought it possible a boat could for one moment contend; time after time they have thought that the boatmen were drowned, as they saw the huge curling waves break over the boat, swamp it, bury it in the weight of their falling volume of water, and for some seconds hide all from view; they have been watching the men persevere in attempt after attempt, when they thought that from sheer exhaustion it would be impossible for them to make another effort for their rescue. with equal wonder and admiration they watched the noble efforts of the steamer, marked how nearly she was wrecked, and when she failed, gave up all as lost; deciding in their minds that in such a rush of broken sea, strength of tide and gale of wind, that it is impossible for the boat to reach them, or for them to be saved, and all but one give up all hope. when the captain says in despair, "the life-boat can never make another effort," this man answers, "i have sailed in english ships; i have often heard about life-boat work, and i know that they never leave any one to perish as long as they can see them, and they will not leave us." "and look, here she comes again. o god help them! god help them!" yes, here she comes again; the steamer had hastened to tow her well into position, well to windward of the wreck. "and here she comes again." once more the boat heads for the wreck--this time to do, or to die; each man knows it, each man feels it. they are crossing the stern of the vessel; "look at that breaker--look at that breaker--hold on, hold on, it will be all over with us if it catches us, we shall be thrown high into the masts of the vessel, and shaken out into the sea in a moment! hold on all, hold on! now it comes! no, thank god, it breaks ahead of us, and we have escaped. now, men, be ready, be ready!" thus shouts the coxswain. every man is at his station, some with the ropes in hand ready to lower the sails; others by the anchor prepared to throw it overboard at the right moment; round, past the stern of the vessel the boat flies, round in the blast of the gale and the swell of the sea; down helm, round she comes; down foresail; the ship's lee gunwale is under water, the boat shoots forward straight for the wreck, and hits the lee rail with a shock that almost throws all the men from their posts, and then, still forward, she literally leaps on board the wreck. over! over with the anchor; it falls on the vessel's deck; all the crew of the vessel are in the mizen shrouds, but they cannot get to the boat, a fearful rush of sea is chasing over the vessel, and between them and it. again and again the boat thumps on the wreck as on a rock, with a shock that almost shakes the men from their hold. the waves soon lift the boat off the deck, and carry her away from the vessel. "is even this attempt to be a failure? no, thank god! the anchor holds; veer out the cable; steadily, my men, steadily; do not disturb the anchor more than you can help; we shall have them now! we shall have them, all will be well; ease her a bit, ease her, see how she plunges, a little more cable; now for the grappling-iron; quick, throw it over that line; there you have it;" and they haul on board a line which had been made fast to a cork-fender, and thrown overboard from the wreck early in the day, but which the boatmen had never before been able to reach. they get the boat straight, haul in slowly upon both ropes; cheer to the crew: "hurrah! mates, hurrah!" all is joy and excitement, but at the same time steady attention to orders; now the boat is abreast the mizen rigging, opposite to where the men are clinging. "down helm, the boat sheers in; haul in upon the ropes, men, handsomely, handsomely;" the boat jumps forward, hits the ship heavily with her stern, crashes off a large piece of her fore-foot. the men are for a moment thrown down with the shock; two of the boatmen spring on to the raised bow gunwale, and seize hold of the captain of the vessel, who seems nearly dead, drag him in over the bows; two of the sailors jump on board; "hold on all, hold on!" a fearful sea rolls over them, the boat is washed away from the vessel; the anchor still holds; they sheer the boat in again; they make the ropes fast, and lash the boat to the shrouds of the wreck, thus verily nailing their colours to the mast. no! they will not be washed away again until they have all the crew on board. a sailor jumps from the rigging, the boat sinks in the trough of the sea, the man falls between the boat and the wreck; a second more and the boat will be on the top of him, crushing him against the rail of the vessel, upon which the keel of the boat strikes and grinds cruelly; two boatmen seize him, leaning right over the gunwale to do so, they are almost dragged into the water; they are seized in turn by the men in the boat, and all are with difficulty got on board. up the boat flies and crashes against the spar lashed to the rigging. "jump in, men, jump in all of you. now! now!" in they spring, and tumble, falling upon the men, and all rolling over into the bottom of the boat. all are now on board--all on board! "hurrah! cut the lashings, there, she falls away from the wreck; cut the cable, quick with the hatchet; all gone! all gone! up foresail." the seas catch the boat and bear her away from the wreck; away she goes with a bound, flying through the broken water; the heavy wind fills the sail; they are fairly under weigh, and with the precious freight for which they had fought so long and so gallantly, safely on board. thank god! thank god! all are saved at last--_saved at last_. now the boat is through the broken seas away from the terrible sands, out in the deep water; the men have time to look at each other; and how gladly, and yes, how fondly, they do so. strangers though they be, yet at that moment their hearts are warm to each other with more than a brother's love--all is gladness and thankfulness; they shake hands, the rescuers and the rescued, time after time. the saved crew are ten in number. they are danes, and the wreck the danish barque _aurora borealis_. some of the sailors can speak a little broken english, and in such terms as they are able the poor fellows express the depth of their gratitude, and their wonder at being saved. the boat makes for the steamer, which is coming down rapidly to meet her; the crew of the steamer greet the life-boatmen with cheers! who can describe the joy they all feel at the successful ending of their long battle with terrible danger and threatened death! and great indeed is their sympathy with the saved from death, for whom they and the boatmen have so willingly, and to the very utmost, risked their own lives. they lift the captain on board the steamer; he is thoroughly exhausted; they carry him into the engine-room, and in the warmth there, do their best to revive him, and he soon recovers. the danish seamen will not leave the boat; the life-boat crew tell the mate that his men would be much more comfortable on board the steamer, that the seas will be washing over the boat all the way in; but no, as so frequently happens on such occasions, and as has been before noticed, the rescued men feel so grateful to the life-boatmen, that they are not content to leave the boat until they get to land. and the mate replies, "no! you saved us, you saved us; we thought you never, never do it; you had plenty trouble; we stop with you." and they would not desert their friends, their brothers indeed, who had done so much to save them. in ramsgate the anxiety is very great. the steamer and life-boat have been out many hours, nothing can be seen of them in the mist that hangs over the goodwin sands. "can anything have happened?" is the question that is restlessly put from one to another. it might well be so, in the terrific sea that must have been raging on the goodwin in so fearful a storm. at about half-past two, hundreds of people are collected on the pier; for the news that the life-boat is out always spreads like wildfire through the town; and if there is any cause for anxiety on her account, the whole town soon shares the apprehension, and throngs of anxious men crowd the pier and harbour. now the men who are anxiously on the watch make out something looming in the mist; and speedily the steamer and life-boat are seen, their flags are flying, glad sign of successful effort, of rescue effected; and great is the joy of all the lookers-on; steamer and life-boat speed between the massive granite heads of the two piers, and the crowd that looks down upon them as they come pitching and rolling along, greet them with cheer after cheer. the saved crew land, they are many of them very weak, and worn, and exhausted; but all around is welcome, and sympathy, and active service. they are taken to the sailors' home, where warm clothing, and beds, and goodly fare are ready for them, and the poor fellows soon recover; some of them before they attempt to take any rest insist upon writing to the loved ones at home, to tell of their safety, and of their rescue from apparently almost certain death. doubtless these letters contain simple expressions of gratitude to god, and of deep love for the dear wife, of many many kisses for the sturdy little boy, or the laughing girl, for the children whose bright eyes seemed so often staring at them so wistfully out of the storm, and whom they never thought to see again; and doubtless contain also expressions of great admiration and thankfulness for the untiring courage of the english life-boatmen; and their full belief in the expression of one of their number who told them in the height of their danger, and in the very depth of their despair, "to take courage, for the life-boatmen will never leave us while they can see us." the board of trade, in recognition of the gallant services of the men, presented them with one pound each. the king of denmark forwarded two hundred rix-dollars to be divided among them. the boatmen are all poor men, and these presents proved very acceptable; but the joy with all was, and will be while life lasts, that god had in his providence and mercy so crowned their perseverance with success, and enabled them to save their drowning brother sailors. while all who heard of the circumstances, declared that never by land or by sea was more gallant service rendered than was accomplished by these brave boatmen, who in the face of all danger, and of all hardship, determined to persevere to the death--determined that while the shipwrecked crew still remained alive, "they would not go home without them." chapter xxvii. of some of the life-boat men. "the rank is but the guinea-stamp; the man's the gold for a' that." _burns._ it may be that some of my readers who have followed the adventures of our storm warriors through their varied struggles and heroic deeds, and have felt sympathy more or less deep for the gallant life-savers, would like to know a little of one or two of the leading men among those who, during the last twenty years, or more, have done such good work in the ramsgate life-boat on the goodwin sands. gallant men who, time after time, have plunged their boat into the thickest of the fray, and heedless of hardship, heedless of peril, forgetful of self, intent only upon rescuing the distressed, have laboured on through the dark stormy nights, 'mid the rush of the waves, the howling winds, the fierce hurricane blasts, the spray, and sleet, and snow--encountering all dangers, and persevering through all difficulties, and repaid for all as they have brought home in the morning's light the brother sailors, or the passengers, whom they have been instrumental in saving from swift and terrible deaths. quiet, broad-chested, steadfast-eyed men, who, by all the scenes they have witnessed, and by all the hardships they have suffered, and by all the thoughts of the shipwrecked ones that they have brought safely home, have it deeply written in upon their hearts: that (to use their own simple and noble expression) _they have a call to save life_. well indeed would it be for the world if more of those to whom talents are given, and to whom stewardships are intrusted, and who stand watching the many who are in danger, overrun by the dark troubled waters of social life--wrecked in poverty, in misery, in ignorance--wrecked for want of true teaching, true guidance, true sympathy, true love--well would it be if more of these stewards of god's loans might have the same noble conviction written in upon their hearts: that they have _a call to save life_! then would more lives grow noble by noble work, and become happy in the consciousness of the happy results, which god grants to the efforts of all those who humbly seek to live and labour for the good of others; grants to those who would sooner put to sea 'mid toil and peril, 'mid self-sacrifice and opposition, rather than let the life-boats god has given for their use rot and canker upon the banks, while the cries of the despairing and the lost plead in vain from the dark storms and troubled waters at their feet. yes, surely; the humble boatmen of our coasts, our "storm warriors," afford a lesson by which many may well profit, in the noble self-sacrificing way in which they realize their mission--_that they have a call to save life_. "who shall be the first coxswain of our new _northumberland_ prize life-boat?" was the question asked by the ramsgate harbour trustees some two and twenty years ago; and it was an important and anxious question; for the good boat required skilful handling to do efficient service, and if she failed in what was required and expected of her, the life-boat cause would receive a serious check. "no man better than james hogben for the first coxswain; no man among them all holds a higher character for cool courage, and skill, and experience;" such was the answer. hogben had been to sea since he was a lad; for some years he was sailing in a small vessel that traded between london and ostend; then he sailed a little bit of a boat, of about fifteen tons, between ramsgate and dunkirk and boulogne, winter and summer. ask him about it now, and the dangers he used to run; and he shakes his head, and with a quiet smile tells you that, "he met with a good many very _whole_ breezes, very!" in that little craft of his. after that, he had nearly twenty years of hovelling; cruising about the goodwin sands in open luggers in the stormiest winter weather, till he almost knew the sands by heart; and so james hogben was appointed first coxswain of the ramsgate life-boat. each time that he and his crew went out in her they gained fresh confidence in her powers; and noble work the good boat did under his command; indeed from the time the _northumberland_ life-boat began her career at ramsgate to the time she was broken up, from december 1851 to july 1865, no fewer than two hundred and sixty-one lives were saved by her and the gallant storm warriors who sailed her, from vessels that were utterly lost; and nineteen vessels, with their crews, were extricated from the goodwin sands and brought safely into harbour. for nine years hogben was coxswain of the life-boat, and then came that dread new year's eve, when doubts were thrown upon the telegram that came from deal; and there was delay; and the life-boat got out to the south of the goodwin sands only in time for her crew to see the _gottenburg_ overwhelmed by the waves, and to hear the last cries of the drowning men. hogben had been out in the life-boat once before that day, and was exhausted and unwell; and he had a nasty fall in the boat, and hurt his knee badly, and soon fell seriously ill; his nerves were, for a time, utterly shattered, and he who had been remarkable for his dauntless courage became too nervous to walk even down the pier for fear of falling over. and although, after a while, he so far recovered as to be able to be employed as a boatman in the harbour, and as a watchman on the pier, yet he was never able to go to sea again; his iron constitution broken down by some thirty years of storm warrior life, during the last nine years of which he had been coxswain of the famous ramsgate life-boat. isaac jarman was appointed coxswain in hogben's room. who among ramsgate boatmen has been better known in his time than isaac jarman--or mr. jarman, as i suppose i ought to call him now? for is he not master of a thriving public-house, which he will take good care to keep respectable? and it will not be his fault if any of his customers wreck themselves by taking too much drink. but a yarn on ramsgate pier with the life-boat coxswain, jarman, was for some years quite an institution with many a visitor to ramsgate, as well as with many an inhabitant. when i have known jarman (it does not seem quite natural _mistering_ my old boatman friend) to be out in the life-boat, enduring all the rage of the storm, and i have imagined the wild scenes 'mid the strife of waters through which he has been passing, another picture, one in very vivid contrast, has often presented itself to my mind. i have remembered the scene i saw one evening when i called upon him, and found him with his family at tea. "come in, sir, come in; you won't disturb us: glad to see you." his wife and, i think, five little daughters were there, and the baby boy, the only son, was taken out of the cradle to be shown to me. and as jarman dandled the little fellow in his strong arms he said, "bless the boy! bless the boy! he will make a life-boat coxswain some day, that he will;" and i felt that all the thoughts of the danger of the work was lost in the joy of saving life; i glanced at the mother, half expecting some expression of dissent; no, her smile showed that she was proud of her husband, and that all her sympathies were with him in his noble work, and that she was quite content that her only boy should in his day follow in his father's steps and be, like him, one of the gallant band of life-savers who guard our coasts. and i have often felt, that however much such pictures of happy home-circles dwelt in the heart of jarman, and of his comrades, as they have struggled out through the dark storms, and rushed into conflict with the wild seas, yet that they have never caused them to turn back from any danger, or to lessen one single effort in their warfare to save life. isaac jarman was turned out into the north sea almost from his cradle. his father, a boatman, got severely hurt on board a hovelling-lugger, so much so, that he was never fit for work again; as a matter of course, the family became very poor. many hungry children to feed, and the arms once so strong now powerless to labour for them, no wonder that the cupboard was often empty, and the growing lads forced to do something for themselves as soon as they were able. and so isaac jarman, when a boy of twelve years old, was sent away to sea on board a small fishing-smack called the _pledge_; she was only twenty-five tons, but used to sail long distances away to fish in the north sea, in all weathers, summer and winter. the poor lad had all the clothing his parents could supply him with, but that was little more than he stood up in; no waterproof overalls, no sea-boots, the almost child had to rough it hardly enough; in bad weather wet through day and night, with no bed to lie upon, and no change of dry clothes; he used to throw himself down on the floor of the small cabin, and lie coiled up before the little fire that glimmered in the stove; the spray oftentimes washing down the hatchway and surging up against his back, so that he had to be content with being dry one side at a time; but strangely enough it agreed with him; as that rough life, with all its strong sea-breezes, and its abundance of good fish diet, does agree with many a little urchin, who, for sturdiness, is not to be surpassed by any luxury-lapped little fellow in the land. after jarman had finished his apprenticeship in the fishing-smack, he was for some years in a collier, during which time he was twice wrecked. and after that for seven or eight years he worked as a ramsgate boatman, always on the look-out in rough weather, day and night, with but short intervals for sleep, for a signal of distress from the goodwin sands, and a call for the life-boat; and so all his training well fitted him for the post of life-boat coxswain; and when the vacancy was made by hogben's illness, jarman was well chosen to fill the post. for ten years he continued coxswain of the life-boat, going out in her no fewer than one hundred and thirty-two times, and helping to save between three and four hundred lives. you may see many a medal that has been well won--and that is worthily worn--by veteran soldier or sailor, but you will find few that have been better won, or that are more worthily worn, than are the four medals and a clasp that our storm warrior jarman has to show as records of his brave and self-sacrificing services; or the three medals that hogben can display on high days and holidays; or those given to reading, the brave master of the steam-tug _aid_, and those worn by many another gallant boatman or sailor, who, at ramsgate, or at other stations round the coast, have done true warrior service in saving life from shipwreck. after holding his post of coxswain for ten years, jarman found the exposure too much for him: he was out nine times in one fortnight, five times in one week; he was seized with a very severe attack of bronchitis, from which he never thoroughly recovered, and had shortly to give up going to sea, and resign his position of coxswain. he had three brothers and a nephew brought up as sailors, all of whom have been drowned; well do i remember the night when his last brother was drowned. it had been blowing a heavy gale for three days and nights, with continual snowstorms; the vessels at sea were in terrible peril: they had no help for it but to drive blindly before the gale, unable to see any of the lights or buoys which mark the sands and shoals. i had heard that a ramsgate collier was known to have sailed from the north some days since, and could not be far off; and it was with a sad heart and deep anxiety that i lingered on the pier that afternoon watching the storm. i saw the boatmen all ready on the look-out for any signal, but i felt, as they felt, that there could be but little hope of any vessels being able to run the gauntlet of the many sandbanks in that dark storm, or of being able to make any signals heard, or seen, if they got into danger. it was with a deep feeling of dread and apprehension that i left jarman and his fellow-boatmen to their dreary and almost hopeless watch; and they watched on through the long dark hours of the night, ready at any moment to man the life-boat; but they could discover no signal--the roar of the storm was too great, the fall of snow too continuous. and yet during those sad hours while the boatmen crouched, sheltering themselves as well as they could--watching, and listening, and waiting, but in vain--the terrible tragedy was worked out; at daylight they saw a wreck in pegwell bay. man the life-boat! no, too late, she is bottom up, her masts are gone; she must have been wrecked on the brake sand, and been rolled over and over by the tremendous sweep of the sea, and the tide. yes, it is the ramsgate collier that was expected, and that jarman's brother commanded; and he and all his crew have miserably perished--perished within sight of home, and within half a mile or so of the life-boat men who were so eagerly watching and waiting for a call to their rescue, and to whom they could not make their danger known. and to this day you may see the sad record of the disaster in the remains of the hull of the wreck, washed high up on the shore in pegwell bay, and there half buried in the sand. a great grief to jarman this sad loss of his brother; and the poor man left a widow and a large family of children; and when fine weather came, in the early summer, many a friend who had had pleasant chats with the life-boat coxswain on ramsgate pier, was surprised to find him diligently cruising in and out of offices in london; he was canvassing for votes for the merchant seamen's orphan asylum, and he laboured on until he succeeded in getting two of his late brother's children into that famous institution. charles fish was appointed to succeed jarman as coxswain, and the life-boat under his guidance continues to do good service; many times has he been out in her, and many times has he, through much hardship and danger, brought saved lives home. and may god in his mercy continue to shield and bless him and the brave men who sail with him, and aid them in their gallant efforts to pluck the shipwrecked and the drowning from all the mighty strife of waters, that battles with such deadly fury when the storms rage round the fatal goodwin sands. i cannot refrain from bearing my tribute of admiration to worthy daniel reading, a brave, skilful, modest sailor, the master of the steam-tug _aid_; many and many a time has he rendered service, which for daring and skill could not be well surpassed, threading in and out of the goodwin sands 'mid terrible storms while seeking for the position of wrecked vessels, or making short cuts to tow the life-boat into position, that no time should be lost in her efforts to save the drowning crews. yes! reading, and james simpson, the mate of the _aid_, and william wharrier, the engineer, who have been together more than twenty years, and have been out on almost every occasion that the life-boat has been called for, have all three of them done noble and gallant service time after time, and are indeed well worthy to be ranked among the storm warriors who have nobly fought in the great and good cause of saving life. and many another gallant fellow might i mention, whose name stands worthily on the ramsgate life-boat roll-call; famous specimens of what a british sailor should be--full of daring and determination, and skill, and hardihood; men who are ready to encounter all danger, and to endure any amount of hardship, in answer to the holy call: to go forth and seek to save the shipwrecked and the perishing. chapter xxviii. the national life-boat institution. "the quality of mercy is not strain'd; it droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath: it is twice bless'd; it blesseth him that gives, and him that takes: 'tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes the throned monarch better than his crown;..." whatever interest my readers may have felt in the narrative of gallant deeds wrought at one life-boat station on the coast, must be intensified at the thought of the noble work that is going on all round our sea-girt land--that, at almost all dangerous places where vessels are likely to be in distress, or lives in peril, there are life-boats ready to be manned, and brave fellows ever anxious promptly to launch forth 'mid the wind and sea, and battle their way to the rescue of the perishing. yes, thank god, the gallant old anglo-saxon blood is still to the fore; the spirit of our ancestors has not died out, and we may well believe, from abundant evidence continually arising from very diversified fields, that it has not even in the least degenerated; for at all times can men be found ready to go forth either by sea or land, to dare all that men should dare, and to do all that men can do, when duty calls them to labours of self-sacrifice, endurance, and courage. and to the old bravery is now added modern science and organization, and the british coasts are guarded by a volunteer navy, equipped and marshalled by the royal national life-boat institution. two hundred and thirty-three life-boats form, at present, the great storm fleet of the institution; the boats are stationed at the most dangerous places on the coast, and are kept always ready for service. those who are living inland may often notice how fast the high clouds are flying overhead, and may listen to the soughing of the rising wind among the branches of the trees; but no dread conflict is pictured by the swift onsweep of the clouds, and the murmur of the wind, fitful and angry though it at times is, scarcely seems to suggest scenes of terrible peril, and of warfare unto life or death; but watch the direction in which the clouds are flying; consider on what part of our coast it is that this fierce gale strikes; imagine the heavy sea that rolls in there, the foaming breakers, the air thick with spray, the sound of the deep-voiced waves as they thunder down upon the rocks over which they break; yes! and fancy that you can make out through the low flying mist that several vessels are in the distance trying to beat their way against the growing gale, and off the dangerous lee-shore, and then rejoice as you feel fully assured, if any of those struggling vessels are overwhelmed by the storm, that it shall not be without a gallant effort for their safety that the poor fellows who form their crews shall be left to perish, for you are convinced that there are, if a life-boat station is near, storm warriors keenly watching the scene, and that they are ready at any moment to launch the life-boat and do battle with the storm and seas for the lives of their brother-sailors. yes! and it is one of old england's many glories that it should be so. "it is the soul that makes us rich or poor;" the old philosopher tells us, and we feel that it is as true of a nation as of an individual. and we count a nation rich with a true glory, that can point to many good works organized and carried out for great and good ends by the loving heartedness, generosity, unselfishness, and courage of its people. and among such works is life-boat work; there are the rich in soul who have the means and the open hand, and there are the many who are rich in soul and have the courageous and strong hand; and the hand generous with its wealth, clasps the hand generous with its labour and readiness for peril, and together they work out those noble results in which we all rejoice, and which the records of the life-boat institution so fully declare. and we should be less proud of our country if it were not so; indeed we are almost inclined to think it a matter of necessity that in our island home, where the history of our country is so interwoven with the triumphs of our sailors, either in contests with our enemies, in pursuit of discovery, or in the development of commerce, that our sympathies with our sailors should indeed be deep and practical, and that while we rejoice in the safety and the comfort afforded by their labours, that we shall ever be prepared to help them in the hour of their distress; and that there can be therefore little room for wonder that those who realize the enormous traffic that is carried on around our shores, the dangerous nature of our coasts, and the constant casualties that are occurring, should earnestly desire the welfare of the life-boat cause, and be ready to labour for its development. the history of the life-boat movement, and of the foundation and gradual development of the life-boat institution, are given in the earlier pages of this book. the present condition of the society tells abundantly of the success it has enjoyed, and of the sympathy it has gained, until now it is able almost to girdle our land with life-boat stations. every year there is published by the board of trade, a register of the number of wrecks that have taken place in the british isles during the previous year; the life-boat institution publishes a wreck-chart compiled from these returns; each wreck is denoted by a black dot which marks on the map the place at which the wreck occurred; and a truly dismal appearance the map has. see how plentifully these black dots are sprinkled round the coast-line, here one, and there two, at other places half-a-dozen side by side, or growing in number to ten or twelve, and then increasing still more rapidly at the more exposed parts of the coast, or where dangerous sands are more directly in the highway of vessels, so that in such places there may be found twenty, thirty, or forty such marks, and at some localities even more than these, as at the sands off yarmouth, the goodwin sands, the bristol channel, and others, where line after line is required to find room for the number of wrecks to be thus recorded. for the past year no fewer than 1958 such marks are necessary to complete the dismal list, for such was the number of the wrecks that took place, within that time, in the seas that surround the british isles. the months of november and december were especially fatal, heavy gales, thick weather, shifting winds, worked terrible havoc among the shipping; the coasts were strewn with wrecks; and the wreck-chart grew proportionally darker in its outline; and is it not a terrible picture that it presents, as we recognise that almost every mark speaks of a dismal scene of destruction and of peril, of ships with wild seas breaking ruthlessly over them, and of men clinging on, being, perhaps, beaten slowly to death by the constant rush of the heavy waves, until, unless rescued, the shattered wreck breaks up beneath their feet, and they are at once launched into eternity? but let us look again at the chart, and we find red marks on the coast lines opposite to the black dots which stud the sea; and wherever the sea is more dark with the signs of wrecks, there do we find the coast line opposite to such places pencilled the more abundantly with the thin red lines which mark the life-boat stations; and thank god that the red marks on this wreck-chart do now so often confront the black! for if the black colour speaks of death, the red colour speaks of life; if the one tells of terrible danger the other tells of gallant rescue; if the one pictures sailors clinging to a few spars, expecting death at every moment; the other pictures the storm warriors ready at their various stations to man the life-boat, and launch forth to wrestle nobly with the cruel seas, to snatch from them their intended prey. and moreover, if the one set of signs tells us of the dangers incurred by the tens of thousands of sailors who are helping to minister to the necessities, and comfort, and luxury of the population of england, the other tells of men and women with warm hearts and generous hands, who let their sympathies go out towards their sailor brethren, and plant our storm-ridden shores with life-boats that shall be for the rescue of those in peril; and who are glad also to encourage and reward the brave men who so often risk their own lives in their efforts to save the lives of others. and so famously has its work gone on, that the life-boat society can now report that the number of lives saved, either by the life-boats of the institution, or by especial exertions for which the society has granted rewards, presents the grand total of more than 22,000; and we are told that for these services the society has granted 91 gold medals, 842 silver medals, and more than â£40,000 in money, so that now we may well say, that the institution has truly become one of national importance, as it has ever been one of national necessity. well indeed was it that lionel luken nearly a century ago, "in the morning sowed the seed, and in the evening withheld not his hand;" for although it was not given him to see the results of his labours, yet he commenced a work which has grown into its present noble proportions; while in contrast to all the apathy he met with, we can now point to a wide-spread and positive affection that the people of england feel for the life-boat cause; and in evidence of the hold that the work of the society has now obtained upon the public mind we can point to its meetings, when its friends assembled have been found to rank among all classes of society, when those who are among the chief of the royal personages of the land have been present, and have been surrounded by some of the first representatives of our aristocracy, of our army, of our navy, and of our commerce. among the most memorable of such meetings was one held in the mansion house in the year 1867, when the prince of wales occupied the chair--and the testimony he gave in favour of the society found an echo, i am sure, in the hearts of all present. it was to the following effect: "my lord mayor, my lords, ladies and gentlemen. it affords me great pleasure to occupy the chair upon so interesting an occasion as the present. among the many benevolent and charitable institutions of this country there are, i think, few which more demand our sympathy and support, and in which we can feel more interest, than the national life-boat institution. an institution of this kind is an absolute necessity in a great maritime country like ours. it is wholly different in one respect to many other institutions, because, although lives are to be saved, they can in those cases, in which this society operates, only be saved at the risk of the loss of other lives. i am happy to be able to congratulate the institution upon its high state of efficiency at the present moment, and on the fact that by its means nearly 1000 lives have been saved during the past year. "i am happy also to be able to say, that life-boats exist not only upon our coasts, but that our example in this matter has been emulated by many foreign maritime countries, some of which have chosen to model their institutions upon our own.... half a century ago this institution originated in this city. in 1852, the late duke of northumberland became its president. my lamented father was also the vice-president, and took the warmest interest in its prosperity. i am happy to say that the respected secretary, mr. lewis, occupied that position in 1850. he has held it ever since, and much of the success of the institution is owing to his long experience; and the energetic manner in which he has directed its working has raised the institution to its present high state of efficiency. "before concluding my brief remarks, i call upon you once more to offer your support to so excellent an institution. i congratulate you that it has arrived at so excellent a state, and i feel sure that you would be the last to wish it to decay for the want of support to its funds." thus spake his royal highness, in 1867, and since then the institution has developed more and mere, completing its organization, perfecting its system, and yearly in its noble results increasing its hold upon the affections of the country. and now, as i write the concluding lines of my book, the reality of the work related is deeply impressed upon my mind, for this morning my two little boys came running downstairs making the house ring with their cries of "the life-boat! the life-boat!" they had seen it from their nursery window. yes, there she was, being towed by the steamer, the rough seas lashing over her; her flag was flying in triumph. i could see through my glass that there were about a dozen saved men on board the steamer; and as i have since learned, seldom have men more narrowly escaped than did those poor fellows, and seldom have men been saved by a greater exhibition of courage and perseverance than was displayed by our life-boat men while effecting their rescue. the _scot_, a barque of 345 tons, bound from sunderland to algiers with a cargo of coals, after experiencing much stormy and thick weather, ran on the kentish knock sand at five o'clock in the morning; the seas immediately began to break over her; the carpenter sounded the well and found two feet and a half of water in her hold, but as the waves lifted her, and plunged her down upon the sands, she filled at once with water. the captain sent the steward into the cabin for the ship's papers; he found the water up to the cabin floor; he seized the box in which the papers were, and ran up on deck; a wave rushed over the vessel and swept him along the deck; he caught hold of a rope with one hand, but one of the sailors, overwhelmed by the same wave, threw his legs around his neck and nearly tore him from his hold; the wave passed and the two men were enabled to spring into the rigging: all hands had to take refuge there, for within five minutes of the vessel's striking she began to break up; the boats were washed away, the deck-house was torn to fragments and carried away piecemeal; the deck began to twist, and buckle, and open, and then was speedily ripped up by the force of the seas, and torn away plank after plank. the vessel broke her back and heeled over on the starboard side, and settled down upon the sands; the men could not make any signal of distress, and if they could have done so, they were miles away from any life-boat, and at any moment the masts might give and they be plunged into the boiling sea. if the weather moderated some passing vessel might see them and be able to send a boat in to their rescue, but not while the gale lasted. the day grew on; many vessels passed the sands, but not near enough to be able to make out the men in the rigging of the masts, which were only just above water; the weather grew worse and worse, the day was wearing away, and the night coming on; it was all very, very hopeless. at last a brig passed nearer to them than any other vessels had come; the mate said, "if they are looking at the wreck with a good glass, they may, perhaps, see us," and he stood up and waved to them. at that moment, most providentially, the pilot on board the vessel looked at the wreck through a glass, and saw the mate waving his south-wester cap. the brig soon after spoke a smack that was making in for the land, and the smack proceeded to broadstairs and reported a wreck on the kentish knock, with the crew in the rigging, and that a life-boat was wanted for their rescue, for that no ordinary boat could live through the sea that was running over the sands. at broadstairs they felt that their own boat could never get there in time without the assistance of a steamer, and they telegraphed to ramsgate. it was about six o'clock in the evening, the steamer _aid_, with reading in command, and the life-boat _bradford_, with fish as coxswain, and r. goldsmith as second coxswain, at once made their way out into the gale and tremendous sea to the rescue of the shipwrecked crew. in the meantime the poor fellows on board the wreck waited on almost in despair, the ship each moment yielding to the force of the storm till the whole deck was washed away, and the masts were working more and more loose; happily she had wire rigging, which stood the heavy swaying and lurching of the masts better than the ordinary rope rigging would have done. it was piteous in talking to the men to hear them describe the condition of utter despair that they were in, and how little ground they could find for any hope whatever; piteous to hear the captain say, "there were just two planks of the deck left floating entangled in a rope, and i kept watching them, thinking that if the mast went i would try and swim to them, and float on them for the chance of being picked up by some vessel;" to hear the mate answer, "but i was just watching them too, with the same idea;" and the carpenter adds, "that was just the plan i had in my mind." and thus the ten men clung to the rigging and to each other, standing on the small crosstrees of one tottering mast, hour after hour. the day passed, still no signs of rescue; it became quite dark; it seemed impossible that they could ever see another day's dawn. they might perish at any moment! at any moment! and all ten of them. this was the conviction of each one. they told me how endless the dark hours of that terrible night seemed; and one man said, "that the thought that seemed ever present with him, was the bitter way that his little boy sobbed and cried when he bid him good-bye, and how he would cry again when he heard that 'dadda was gone.'" at last there was a streak of dawn, but the mast had fallen over almost to a level with the water and seemed still yielding rapidly; they might see the sunrise again, but that was all; when one of the sailors cried out, "a steamer!" "what good can that be to us?" and they watch her without interest, for there seems little chance of her coming in their direction. "ah! she is running down the edge of the sands, and comes nearer, and nearer!"--"well she can't help us if she does; no boat can come across the sands to us in this surf--no! no." shortly, a man cries, "she has a large boat in tow;"--"what! perhaps a life-boat! it may be that some passing vessel made us out yesterday and has sent a life-boat;" oh, what a thought of hope, of joy, of life! "can it be so? it is--it is! thank god it is--it is! look, she has left the steamer and is coming in through the breakers straight towards us!" it is something to remember, the way in which one man said to me, as if almost unnerved by the remembrance, "oh, what a beauty she looked! what a beauty she looked coming over those seas!" the steamer and life-boat had got out to the sands after battling with the storm for a distance of twenty-six miles. at about 11 o'clock the night before, they spoke the lightship on the kentish knock, and learnt the bearings of the wreck; but they found that it was impossible to discover her in the darkness of the night and storm, so after several vain efforts they lay to until the morning. as soon as it was light they went in search of the wreck, and the life-boat made in across the sands, and it was then truly a great matter of heartfelt congratulation to the life-boat men that all their labour and perseverance had not been in vain; for to their great joy they could see the crew in the rigging. they anchored the boat as near to the wreck as they could venture, and then let the cable veer out until the boat was under the vessel's jib-boom. it was low-tide--the seas were not breaking over the wreck so violently as they had been; and the men were able to work their way out on to the bowsprit, and drop into the boat, and thus the ten men were saved, after being twenty-six hours holding on in the maintop of the wreck. the flood-tide was just making; all felt, that as soon as it rose and the wreck began to heave and work again, the mast would speedily go, and they realized to the full that they had only been saved just in time. the life-boat returned to the steamer as speedily as possible, and put the rescued men on board her. the shipwrecked men had not tasted anything for nearly thirty-six hours, as it was before breakfast time that they had run ashore, and they had been in the rigging for twenty-six hours. the life-boat got back to the harbour at 11 o'clock in the morning; the life-boat men had been in the open boat exposed to all the fury of the storm for nearly seventeen hours, and their exhaustion was very great. the kindness of some friends provided the weary and famished men with a good dinner at the house of their old comrade and friend, jarman, and soon after a telegram came from mr. lewis, of the life-boat institution, to whom tidings of the rescue had been telegraphed, that the life-boatmen were to have a sovereign each, and a good dinner; but by that time they were all resting at home after their long hours of fatigue. other friends made recognition by subscription of their noble services; and comfort was thus carried into the homes of our storm warriors after their gallant and triumphant efforts in saving life. the shipwrecked men were cared for in our sailors' home, and speedily recovered their fatigues. the captain told me he did not think they would have been alive one hour longer, if the life-boat had not come just when she did; and speaking of the life-boat, said with deep feeling, "oh! she is a noble boat, and nobly manned; there could not be a kinder set of men!" and with these words of the brave and grateful sailor so recently and unexpectedly saved with all his crew, from that which seemed most certain death, i feel inclined to finish my book. but i will add one wish, namely, that we had a better sailors' home in which to receive the poor fellows who are brought ashore; 156 wrecked men were received into the home at ramsgate last year, 40 in one day; and a little house of â£25, or so, rent, and its one sitting-room for the use of the men, only about sixteen feet by fourteen, and eighteen beds crowded together in small rooms is, of course, quite inadequate to afford the accommodation that we would wish to provide for the poor fellows brought in half dead with cold, with exhaustion, and with hunger, plucked by the storm warriors from the very jaws of death 'mid the rage of waters on the goodwin sands. god speed the life-boat! god guard the storm warriors! the end. london: printed by william clowes and sons, stamford street and charing cross. advertisements _second edition, crown 8vo., price 5s._ the history of the life-boat and its work. by richard lewis, barrister-at-law, secretary to the royal national life-boat institution. with illustrations, and wreck chart. "to tell the story of a noble work--the work of the life-boat,--was almost the privilege of mr. lewis, and he has told it admirably."--_standard._ "though the book perforce contains many matters of sheer science, and a multitude of statistics, it is not by any means dry reading, and even the frivolously inclined will read with deep interest some of the chapters, more especially that of the ramsgate life-boat above alluded to."--_land and water._ macmillan and co., london. books of travel. _sir samuel w. baker's "ismailia."_ a narrative of the expedition to central africa for the suppression of the slave trade. organized by ismail, khedive of egypt. with maps, portraits, and numerous illustrations. two vols., 8vo., 36_s._ _the albert n'yanza great basin of the_ nile, and exploration of the nile sources. by sir samuel baker. with maps and numerous illustrations. fourth edition. crown 8vo., 6_s._ _the nile tributaries of abyssinia, and_ the sword hunters of the hamran arabs. by sir samuel baker. with maps and numerous illustrations. fifth edition. crown 8vo., 6_s._ _at last: a christmas in the west indies_. by the rev. charles kingsley, canon of westminster. with numerous illustrations. fourth edition. crown 8vo., 6_s._ _the malay archipelago: the land of the_ orang-utan and the bird of paradise. a narrative of travel. by alfred russel wallace. with maps and numerous illustrations. fourth edition. crown 8vo., 7_s._ 6_d._ _greater britain._ a record of travel in english-speaking countries. by sir charles w. dilke, m.p. with illustrations. sixth edition. crown 8vo., 6_s._ _a year's journey through central and_ eastern arabia, 1862-3. by w. gifford palgrave. sixth edition. crown 8vo., 6_s._ _a ramble round the world, 1871._ by m. le baron de hã�bner, formerly ambassador and minister. translated by lady herbert. two vols., 8vo., 25_s._ _holidays on high lands; or, rambles and_ incidents in search of alpine plants. by the rev. hugh macmillan, ll.d., f.r.s.e. _by sea and land._ being a trip through egypt, india, ceylon, australia, new zealand, america--all round the world. by h. a. merewether, one of her majesty's council. crown 8vo., 8s. 6_d._ _station life in new zealand._ by lady barker. third edition. crown 8vo., 3_s._ 6_d._ _mr. pisistratus brown, m.p., in the highlands._ new edition. with illustrations. crown 8vo., 3_s._ 6_d._ macmillan and co., london. note: project gutenberg also has an html version of this file which includes the original illustrations. see 15648-h.htm or 15648-h.zip: (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/5/6/4/15648/15648-h/15648-h.htm) or (http://www.gutenberg.net/dirs/1/5/6/4/15648/15648-h.zip) transcriber's note: general: varied hyphenation is retained. in list of illustrations delong is one word; in table of contents it is de long; in text it is delong. more transcriber's notes will be found at the end of sections. american merchant ships and sailors by willis j. abbot author of _naval history of the united states_, _bluejackets of 1898_, etc. illustrated by ray brown new york dodd, mead & company the caxton press new york 1902 [illustration] books by willis j. abbot [illustration] naval history of the united states blue jackets of 1898 battlefields of '61 battlefields and campfires battlefields and victory preface in an earlier series of books the present writer told the story of the high achievements of the men of the united states navy, from the day of paul jones to that of dewey, schley, and sampson. it is a record americans may well regard with pride, for in wars of defense or offense, in wars just or unjust, the american blue jacket has discharged the duty allotted to him cheerfully, gallantly, and efficiently. but there are triumphs to be won by sea and by land greater than those of war, dangers to be braved, more menacing than the odds of battle. it was a glorious deed to win the battle of santiago, but fulton and ericsson influenced the progress of the world more than all the heroes of history. the daily life of those who go down to the sea in ships is one of constant battle, and the whaler caught in the ice-pack is in more direful case than the blockaded cruiser; while the captain of the ocean liner, guiding through a dense fog his colossal craft freighted with two thousand human lives, has on his mind a weightier load of responsibility than the admiral of the fleet. in all times and ages, the deeds of the men who sail the deep as its policemen or its soldiery have been sung in praise. it is time for chronicle of the high courage, the reckless daring, and oftentimes the noble self-sacrifice of those who use the seven seas to extend the markets of the world, to bring nations nearer together, to advance science, and to cement the world into one great interdependent whole. willis john abbot. ann arbor, mich., may 1, 1902. [illustration: new england early took the lead in building ships] list of illustrations page new england early took the lead in building ships _frontispiece_ the shallop 2 the ketch 5 "the broad arrow was put on all white pines 24 inches in diameter" 7 "the farmer-builder took his place at the helm" 8 schooner-rigged sharpie 11 after a british lieutenant had picked the best of her crew 18 early type of smack 21 the snow, an obsolete type 29 the bug-eye 34 a "pink" 38 "instantly the gun was run out and discharged" 42 "the water front of a great seaport like new york" 55 an armed cutter 57 "the loud laugh often rose at my expense" 65 "the dreadnaught"--new york and liverpool packet 69 there are building in american yards _facing_ 82 "a favorite trick of the fleeing slaver was to throw over slaves" 95 dealers who came on board were themselves kidnapped _facing_ 98 "the rope was put around his neck" 103 "bound them to the chain cable" 114 "sending boat and men flying into the air" 128 "suddenly the mate gave a howl--'starn all!" _facing_ 132 "rot at moldering wharves" 140 "there she blows!" 144 "taking it in his jaws" 146 nearly every man on the quarterdeck of the "argo" was killed or wounded 162 the prison ship "jersey" 163 if they retreated farther he would blow up the ship _facing_ 176 "i think she is a heavy ship" 179 "striving to reach her decks at every point" 186 "they fell down and died as they walked" 199 "the treacherous kayak" 203 the ship was caught in the ice pack _facing_ 204 adrift on an ice floe 206 de long's men dragging their boats over the ice 210 an arctic house 224 an esquimau 227 the wooden bateaux of the fur traders _facing_ 236 "the red-men set upon them and slew them all" 241 one of the first lake sailors 243 "two boat-loads of redcoats boarded us and took us prisoners" 245 a vanishing type on the lakes 249 "the whaleback" 253 flatboats manned with riflemen _facing_ 266 "the evening would pass in rude and harmless jollity" 271 the mississippi pilot 286 a deck load of cotton 290 feeding the furnace 293 on the banks 314 "the boys marked their fish by cutting off their tails" 322 fishing from the rail 328 trawling from a dory 333 strikes a schooner and shears through her like a knife _facing_ 334 minot's ledge light 345 whistling buoy 354 revenue cutter 360 launching a lifeboat through the surf 364 the exciting moment in the pilot's trade _facing_ 366 **transcriber's notes: illustrations: most quirks were left as written, only changes made listed below. list reads: "the loud laugh often rose at my expense" tag reads: "the loud laugh rose at my expense" added missing illustration to list: after a british lieutenant had picked the best of her crew 18 changed mouldering to moldering to match illustration and text page 227: changed illustration tag "an esquimaux" to "an esquimau" to fit text. contents page chapter i. 1 the american ship and the american sailor--new england's lead on the ocean--the earliest american ship-building--how the shipyards multiplied--lawless times on the high seas--ship-building in the forests and on the farm--some early types--the course of maritime trade--the first schooner and the first full-rigged ship--jealousy and antagonism of england--the pest of privateering--encouragement from congress--the golden days of our merchant marine--fighting captains and trading captains--ground between france and england--checked by the wars--sealing and whaling--into the pacific--how yankee boys mounted the quarter-deck--some stories of early seamen--the packets and their exploits chapter ii. 53 the transition from sails to steam--the change in marine architecture--the depopulation of the ocean--changes in the sailor's lot--from wood to steel--the invention of the steamboat--the fate of fitch--fulton's long struggles--opposition of the scientists--the "clermont"--the steamboat on the ocean--on western rivers--the transatlantic passage--the "savannah" makes the first crossing--establishment of british lines--efforts of united states ship-owners to compete--the famous collins line--the decadence of our merchant marine--signs of its revival--our great domestic shipping interest--america's future on the sea chapter iii. 89 an ugly feature of early seafaring--the slave trade and its promoters--part played by eminent new englanders--how the trade grew up--the pious auspices which surrounded the traffic--slave-stealing and sabbath-breaking--conditions of the trade--size of the vessels--how the captives were treated--mutinies, man-stealing, and murder--the revelations of the abolition society--efforts to break up the trade--an awful retribution--england leads the way--difficulty of enforcing the law--america's shame--the end of the evil--the last slaver chapter iv. 121 the whaling industry--its early development in new england--known to the ancients--shore whaling beginnings of the deep-sea fisheries--the prizes of whaling--piety of its early promoters--the right whale and the cachalot--a flurry--some fighting whales--the "essex" and the "ann alexander"--types of whalers--decadence of the industry--effect of our national wars--the embargo--some stories of whaling life chapter v. 155 the privateers--part taken by merchant sailors in building up the privateering system--lawless state of the high seas--method of distributing privateering profits--picturesque features of the calling--the gentlemen sailors--effects on the revolutionary army--perils of privateering--the old jersey prison ship--extent of privateering--effect on american marine architecture--some famous privateers--the "chasseur," the "prince de neufchátel," the "mammoth"--the system of convoys and the "running ships"--a typical privateers' battle--the "general armstrong" at fayal--summary of the work of the privateers chapter vi. 193 the arctic tragedy--american sailors in the frozen deep--the search for sir john franklin--reasons for seeking the north pole--testimony of scientists and explorers--pertinacity of polar voyagers--dr. kane and dr. hayes--charles f. hall, journalist and explorer--miraculous escape of his party--the ill-fated "jeannette" expedition--suffering and death of de long and his companions--a pitiful diary--the greely expedition--its careful plan and complete disaster--rescue of the greely survivors--peary, wellman, and baldwin chapter vii. 233 the great lakes--their share in the maritime traffic of the united states--the earliest recorded voyagers--indians and fur traders--the pigmy canal at the sault ste. marie--beginning of navigation by sails--de la salle and the "griffin"--recollections of early lake seamen--the lakes as a highway for westward emigration--the first steamboat--effect of mineral discoveries on lake superior--the ore-carrying fleet--the whalebacks--the seamen of the lakes--the great canal at the "soo"--the channel to buffalo--barred out from the ocean chapter viii. 261 the mississippi and tributary rivers--the changing phases of their shipping--river navigation as a nation-building force--the value of small streams--work of the ohio company--an early propeller--the french first on the mississippi--the spaniards at new orleans--early methods of navigation--the flatboat, the broadhorn, and the keelboat--life of the rivermen--pirates and buccaneers--lafitte and the baratarians--the genesis of the steamboats--capricious river--flush times in new orleans--rapid multiplication of steamboats--recent figures on river shipping--commodore whipple's exploit--the men who steered the steamboats--their technical education--the ships they steered--fires and explosions--heroism of the pilots--the races chapter ix. 303 the new england fisheries--their part in effecting the settlement of america--their rapid development--wide extent of the trade--effort of lord north to destroy it--the fishermen in the revolution--efforts to encourage the industry--its part in politics and diplomacy--the fishing banks--types of boats--growth of the fishing communities--farmers and sailors by turns--the education of the fishermen--methods of taking mackerel--the seine and the trawl--scant profits of the industry--perils of the banks--some personal experiences--the fog and the fast liners--the tribute of human life chapter x. 341 the sailor's safeguards--improvements in marine architecture--the mapping of the seas--the lighthouse system--building a lighthouse--minot's ledge and spectacle reef--life in a lighthouse--lightships and other beacons--the revenue marine service--its function as a safeguard to sailors--its work in the north pacific--the life-saving service--its record for one year--its origin and development--the pilots of new york--their hardships and slender earnings--jack ashore--the sailors' snug harbor **transcriber notes on table of contents: chapter v reads "effects on the revolutionary army"; chapter on page 155 reads "effect on the revolutionary army"; chapter vii reads reads "beginning of navigation", chapter on page 233 reads "beginnings of navigation" american merchant ships and sailors chapter i. the american ship and the american sailor--new england's lead on the ocean--the earliest american ship-building--how the shipyards multiplied--lawless times on the high seas--ship-building in the forests and on the farm--some early types--the course of maritime trade--the first schooner and the first full-rigged ship--jealousy and antagonism of england--the pest of privateering--encouragement from congress--the golden days of our merchant marine--fighting captains and trading captains--ground between france and england--checked by the wars--sealing and whaling--into the pacific--how yankee boys mounted the quarter-deck--some stories of early seamen--the packets and their exploits. when the twentieth century opened, the american sailor was almost extinct. the nation which, in its early and struggling days, had given to the world a race of seamen as adventurous as the norse vikings had, in the days of its greatness and prosperity turned its eyes away from the sea and yielded to other people the mastery of the deep. one living in the past, reading the newspapers, diaries and record-books of the early days of the nineteenth century, can hardly understand how an occupation which played so great a part in american life as seafaring could ever be permitted to decline. the dearest ambition of the american boy of our early national era was to command a clipper ship--but how many years it has been since that ambition entered into the mind of young america! in those days the people of all the young commonwealths from maryland northward found their interests vitally allied with maritime adventure. without railroads, and with only the most wretched excuses for post-roads, the states were linked together by the sea; and coastwise traffic early began to employ a considerable number of craft and men. three thousand miles of ocean separated americans from the market in which they must sell their produce and buy their luxuries. immediately upon the settlement of the seaboard the colonists themselves took up this trade, building and manning their own vessels and speedily making their way into every nook and corner of europe. we, who have seen, in the last quarter of the nineteenth century, the american flag the rarest of all ensigns to be met on the water, must regard with equal admiration and wonder the zeal for maritime adventure that made the infant nation of 1800 the second seafaring people in point of number of vessels, and second to none in energy and enterprise. [illustration: the shallop] new england early took the lead in building ships and manning them, and this was but natural since her coasts abounded in harbors; navigable streams ran through forests of trees fit for the ship-builder's adze; her soil was hard and obdurate to the cultivator's efforts; and her people had not, like those who settled the south, been drawn from the agricultural classes. moreover, as i shall show in other chapters, the sea itself thrust upon the new englanders its riches for them to gather. the cod-fishery was long pursued within a few miles of cape ann, and the new englanders had become well habituated to it before the growing scarcity of the fish compelled them to seek the teeming waters of newfoundland banks. the value of the whale was first taught them by great carcasses washed up on the shore of cape cod, and for years this gigantic game was pursued in open boats within sight of the coast. from neighborhood seafaring such as this the progress was easy to coasting voyages, and so to europe and to asia. there is some conflict of historians over the time and place of the beginning of ship-building in america. the first vessel of which we have record was the "virginia," built at the mouth of the kennebec river in 1608, to carry home a discontented english colony at stage island. she was a two-master of 30 tons burden. the next american vessel recorded was the dutch "yacht" "onrest," built at new york in 1615. nowadays sailors define a yacht as a vessel that carries no cargo but food and champagne, but the "onrest" was not a yacht of this type. she was of 16 tons burden, and this small size explains her description. the first ship built for commercial purposes in new england was "the blessing of the bay," a sturdy little sloop of 60 tons. fate surely designed to give a special significance to this venture, for she was owned by john winthrop, the first of new england statesmen, and her keel was laid on the fourth of july, 1631--a day destined after the lapse of one hundred and forty-five years to mean much in the world's calendar. sixty tons is not an awe-inspiring register. the pleasure yacht of some millionaire stock-jobber to-day will be ten times that size, while 20,000 tons has come to be an every-day register for an ocean vessel; but our pleasure-seeking "corsairs," and our castellated "city of new york" will never fill so big a place in history as this little sloop, the size of a river lighter, launched at mistick, and straightway dispatched to the trade with the dutch at new amsterdam. long before her time, however, in 1526, the spanish adventurer, lucas vasquez de ayllon, losing on the coast of florida a brigantine out of the squadron of three ships which formed his expedition, built a small craft called a gavarra to replace it. from that early fourth of july, for more than two hundred years shipyards multiplied and prospered along the american coast. the yankees, with their racial adaptability, which long made them jacks of all trades and good at all, combined their shipbuilding with other industries, and to the hurt of neither. early in 1632, at richmond island, off the coast of maine, was built what was probably the first regular packet between england and america. she carried to the old country lumber, fish, furs, oil, and other colonial products, and brought back guns, ammunition, and liquor--not a fortunate exchange. of course meanwhile english, dutch, and spanish ships were trading to the colonies, and every local essay in shipbuilding meant competition with old and established ship-yards and ship owners. yet the industry throve, not only in the considerable yards established at boston and other large towns, but in a small way all along the coast. special privileges were extended to ship-builders. they were exempt from military and other public duties. in 1636 the "desire," a vessel of 120 tons, was built at marblehead, the largest to that time. by 1640 the port records of european ports begin to show the clearings of american-built vessels. [illustration: the ketch] in those days of wooden hulls and tapering masts the forests of new england were the envy of every european monarch ambitious to develop a navy. it was a time, too, of greater naval activity than the world had ever seen--though but trivial in comparison with the present expenditures of christian nations for guns and floating steel fortresses. england, spain, holland, and france were struggling for the control of the deep, and cared little for considerations of humanity, honor, or honesty in the contest. the tall, straight pines of maine and new hampshire were a precious possession for england in the work of building that fleet whose sails were yet to whiten the ocean, and whose guns, under drake and rodney, were to destroy successfully the maritime prestige of the dutch and the spaniards. sometimes a colony, seeking royal favor, would send to the king a present of these pine timbers, 33 to 35 inches in diameter, and worth £95 to £115 each. later the royal mark, the "broad arrow," was put on all white pines 24 inches in diameter 3 feet from the ground, that they might be saved for masts. it is, by the way, only about fifteen years since our own united states government has disposed of its groves of live oaks, that for nearly a century were preserved to furnish oaken knees for navy vessels. [illustration: "the broad arrow was put on all white pines 24 inches in diameter"] the great number of navigable streams soon led to shipbuilding in the interior. it was obviously cheaper to build the vessel at the edge of the forest, where all the material grew ready to hand, and sail the completed craft to the seaboard, than to first transport the material thither in the rough. but american resourcefulness before long went even further. as the forests receded from the banks of the streams before the woodman's axe, the shipwrights followed. in the depths of the woods, miles perhaps from water, snows, pinnaces, ketches, and sloops were built. when the heavy snows of winter had fallen, and the roads were hard and smooth, runners were laid under the little ships, great teams of oxen--sometimes more than one hundred yoke--were attached, and the craft dragged down to the river, to lie there on the ice until the spring thaw came to gently let it down into its proper element. many a farmer, too, whose lands sloped down to a small harbor, or stream, set up by the water side the frame of a vessel, and worked patiently at it during the winter days when the flinty soil repelled the plough and farm work was stopped. stout little craft were thus put together, and sometimes when the vessel was completed the farmer-builder took his place at the helm and steered her to the fishing banks, or took her through hell gate to the great and thriving city of new york. the world has never seen a more amphibious populace. [illustration: "the farmer-builder took his place at the helm"] the cost of the little vessels of colonial times we learn from old letters and accounts to have averaged four pounds sterling to the ton. boston, charleston, salem, ipswich, salisbury, and portsmouth were the chief building places in massachusetts; new london in connecticut, and providence in rhode island. vessels of a type not seen to-day made up the greater part of the new england fleet. the ketch, often referred to in early annals, was a two-master, sometimes rigged with lanteen sails, but more often with the foremast square-rigged, like a ship's foremast, and the mainmast like the mizzen of a modern bark, with a square topsail surmounting a fore-and-aft mainsail. the foremast was set very much aft--often nearly amidships. the snow was practically a brig, carrying a fore-and-aft sail on the mainmast, with a square sail directly above it. a pink was rigged like a schooner, but without a bowsprit or jib. for the fisheries a multitude of smaller types were constructed--such as the lugger, the shallop, the sharpie, the bug-eye, the smack. some of these survive to the present day, and in many cases the name has passed into disuse, while the type itself is now and then to be met with on our coasts. the importance of ship-building as a factor in the development of new england did not rest merely upon the use of ships by the americans alone. that was a day when international trade was just beginning to be understood and pushed, and every people wanted ships to carry their goods to foreign lands and bring back coveted articles in exchange. the new england vessel seldom made more than two voyages across the atlantic without being snapped up by some purchaser beyond seas. the ordinary course was for the new craft to load with masts or spars, always in demand, or with fish; set sail for a promising market, dispose of her cargo, and take freight for england. there she would be sold, her crew making their way home in other ships, and her purchase money expended in articles needed in the colonies. this was the ordinary practice, and with vessels sold abroad so soon after their completion the shipyards must have been active to have fitted out, as the records show, a fleet of fully 280 vessels for massachusetts alone by 1718. before this time, too, the american shipwrights had made such progress in the mastery of their craft that they were building ships for the royal navy. the "falkland," built at portsmouth about 1690, and carrying 54 guns, was the earliest of these, but after her time corvettes, sloops-of-war, and frigates were launched in new england yards to fight for the king. it was good preparation for building those that at a later date should fight against him. looking back over the long record of american maritime progress, one cannot but be impressed with the many and important contributions made by americans--native or adopted--to marine architecture. to an american citizen, john ericsson, the world owes the screw propeller. americans sent the first steamship across the ocean--the "savannah," in 1819. americans, engaged in a fratricidal war, invented the ironclad in the "monitor" and the "merrimac," and, demonstrating the value of iron ships for warfare, sounded the knell of wooden ships for peaceful trade. an american first demonstrated the commercial possibilities of the steamboat, and if history denies to fulton entire precedence with his "clermont," in 1807, it may still be claimed for john fitch, another american, with his imperfect boat on the delaware in 1787. but perhaps none of these inventions had more homely utility than the new england schooner, which had its birth and its christening at gloucester in 1713. the story of its naming is one of the oldest in our marine folk-lore. "see how she schoons!" cried a bystander, coining a verb to describe the swooping slide of the graceful hull down the ways into the placid water. [illustration: schooner-rigged sharpie] "a schooner let her be!" responded the builder, proud of his handiwork, and ready to seize the opportunity to confer a novel title upon his novel creation. though a combination of old elements, the schooner was in effect a new design. barks, ketches, snows, and brigantines carried fore-and-aft rigs in connection with square sails on either mast, but now for the first time two masts were rigged fore and aft, and the square sails wholly discarded. the advantages of the new rig were quickly discovered. vessels carrying it were found to sail closer to the wind, were easier to handle in narrow quarters, and--what in the end proved of prime importance--could be safely manned by smaller crews. with these advantages the schooner made its way to the front in the shipping lists. the new england shipyards began building them, almost to the exclusion of other types. before their advance brigs, barks, and even the magnificent full-rigged ship itself gave way, until now a square-rigged ship is an unusual spectacle on the ocean. the vitality of the schooner is such that it bids fair to survive both of the crushing blows dealt to old-fashioned marine architecture--the substitution of metal for wood, and of steam for sails. to both the schooner adapted itself. extending its long, slender hull to carry four, five, and even seven masts, its builders abandoned the stout oak and pine for molded iron and later steel plates, and when it appeared that the huge booms, extending the mighty sails, were difficult for an ordinary crew to handle, one mast, made like the rest of steel, was transformed into a smokestack--still bearing sails--a donkey engine was installed in the hold, and the booms went aloft, or the anchor rose to the peak to the tune of smoky puffing instead of the rhythmical chanty songs of the sailors. so the modern schooner, a very leviathan of sailing craft, plows the seas, electric-lighted, steering by steam, a telephone system connecting all parts of her hull--everything modern about her except her name. not as dignified, graceful, and picturesque as the ship perhaps--but she lasts, while the ship disappears. but to return to the colonial shipping. boston soon became one of the chief building centers, though indeed wherever men were gathered in a seashore village ships were built. winthrop, one of the pioneers in the industry, writes: "the work was hard to accomplish for want of money, etc., but our shipwrights were content to take such pay as the country could make," and indeed in the old account books of the day we can read of very unusual payments made for labor, as shown, for example, in a contract for building a ship at newburyport in 1141, by which the owners were bound to pay "£300 in cash, £300 by orders on good shops in boston; two-thirds money; four hundred pounds by orders up the river for tim'r and plank, ten bbls. flour, 50 pounds weight of loaf sugar, one bagg of cotton wool, one hund. bushels of corn in the spring; one hhd. of rum, one hundred weight of cheese * * * whole am't of price for vessel £3000 lawful money." by 1642 they were building good-sized vessels at boston, and the year following was launched the first full-rigged ship, the "trial," which went to malaga, and brought back "wine, fruit, oil, linen and wool, which was a great advantage to the country, and gave encouragement to trade." a year earlier there set out the modest forerunner of our present wholesale spring pilgrimages to europe. a ship set sail for london from boston "with many passengers, men of chief rank in the country, and great store of beaver. their adventure was very great, considering the doubtful estate of affairs of england, but many prayers of the churches went with them and followed after them." by 1698 governor bellomont was able to say of boston alone, "i believe there are more good vessels belonging to the town of boston than to all scotland and ireland." thereafter the business rapidly developed, until in a map of about 1730 there are noted sixteen shipyards. rope walks, too, sprung up to furnish rigging, and presently for these boston was a centre. another industry, less commendable, grew up in this as in other shipping centres. molasses was one of the chief staples brought from the west indies, and it came in quantities far in excess of any possible demand from the colonial sweet tooth. but it could be made into rum, and in those days rum was held an innocent beverage, dispensed like water at all formal gatherings, and used as a matter of course in the harvest fields, the shop, and on the deck at sea. moreover, it had been found to have a special value as currency on the west coast of africa. the negro savages manifested a more than civilized taste for it, and were ready to sell their enemies or their friends, their sons, fathers, wives, or daughters into slavery in exchange for the fiery fluid. so all new england set to turning the good molasses into fiery rum, and while the slave trade throve abroad the rum trade prospered at home. of course the rapid advance of the colonies in shipbuilding and in maritime trade was not regarded in england with unqualified pride. the theory of that day--and one not yet wholly abandoned--was that a colony was a mine, to be worked for the sole benefit of the mother country. it was to buy its goods in no other market. it was to use the ships of the home government alone for its trade across seas. it must not presume to manufacture for itself articles which merchants at home desired to sell. england early strove to impress such trade regulations upon the american colonies, and succeeded in embarrassing and handicapping them seriously, although evasions of the navigation laws were notorious, and were winked at by the officers of the crown. the restrictions were sufficiently burdensome, however, to make the ship-owners and sailors of 1770 among those most ready and eager for the revolt against the king. the close of the revolution found american shipping in a reasonably prosperous condition. it is true that the peaceful vocation of the seamen had been interrupted, all access to british ports denied them, and their voyages to continental markets had for six years been attended by the ever-present risk of capture and condemnation. but on the other hand, the war had opened the way for privateering, and out of the ports of massachusetts, rhode island and connecticut the privateers swarmed like swallows from a chimney at dawn. to the adventurous and not over-scrupulous men who followed it, privateering was a congenial pursuit--so much so, unhappily, that when the war ended, and a treaty robbed their calling of its guise of lawfulness, too many of them still continued it, braving the penalties of piracy for the sake of its gains. but during the period of the revolution privateering did the struggling young nation two services--it sorely harassed the enemy, and it kept alive the seafaring zeal and skill of the new englanders. for a time it seemed that not all this zeal and skill could replace the maritime interests where they were when the revolution began. for most people in the colonies independence meant a broader scope of activity--to the shipowner and sailor it meant new and serious limitations. england was still engaged in the effort to monopolize ocean traffic by the operation of tariffs and navigation laws. new england having become a foreign nation, her ships were denied admittance to the ports of the british west indies, with which for years a nourishing trade had been conducted. lumber, corn, fish, live stock, and farm produce had been sent to the islands, and coffee, sugar, cotton, rum, and indigo brought back. this commerce, which had come to equal £3,500,000 a year, was shut off by the british after american independence, despite the protest of pitt, who saw clearly that the west indians would suffer even more than the americans. time showed his wisdom. terrible sufferings came upon the west indies for lack of the supplies they had been accustomed to import, and between 1780 and 1787 as many as 15,000 slaves perished from starvation. another cause held the american merchant marine in check for several years succeeding the declaration of peace. if there be one interest which must have behind it a well-organized, coherent national government, able to protect it and to enforce its rights in foreign lands, it is the shipping interest. but american ships, after the treaty of paris, hailed from thirteen independent but puny states. they had behind them the shadow of a confederacy, but no substance. the flags they carried were not only not respected in foreign countries--they were not known. moreover, the states were jealous of each other, possessing no true community of interest, and each seeking advantage at the expense of its neighbors. they were already beginning to adopt among themselves the very tactics of harassing and crippling navigation laws which caused the protest against great britain. this "critical period of american history," as professor fiske calls it, was indeed a critical period for american shipping. the new government, formed under the constitution, was prompt to recognize the demands of the shipping interests upon the country. in the very first measure adopted by congress steps were taken to encourage american shipping by differential duties levied on goods imported in american and foreign vessels. moreover, in the tonnage duties imposed by congress an advantage of almost 50 per cent. was given ships built in the united states and owned abroad. under this stimulus the shipping interests throve, despite hostile legislation in england, and the disordered state of the high seas, where french and british privateers were only a little less predatory than algierian corsairs or avowed pirates. it was at this early day that yankee skippers began making those long voyages that are hardly paralleled to-day when steamships hold to a single route like a trolley car between two towns. the east indies was a favorite trading point. carrying a cargo suited to the needs of perhaps a dozen different peoples, the vessel would put out from boston or newport, put in at madeira perhaps, or at some west indian port, dispose of part of its cargo, and proceed, stopping again and again on its way, and exchanging its goods for money or for articles thought to be more salable in the east indies. arrived there, all would be sold, and a cargo of tea, coffee, silks, spices, nankeen cloth, sugar, and other products of the country taken on. if these goods did not prove salable at home the ship would make yet another voyage and dispose of them at hamburg or some other continental port. in 1785 a baltimore ship showed the stars and stripes in the canton river, china. in 1788 the ship "atlantic," of salem, visited bombay and calcutta. the effect of being barred from british ports was not, as the british had expected, to put an abrupt end to american maritime enterprise. it only sent our hardy seamen on longer voyages, only brought our merchants into touch with the commerce of the most distant lands. industry, like men, sometimes thrives upon obstacles. [illustration: "after a british lieutenant had picked the best of her crew"] for twenty-five years succeeding the adoption of the constitution the maritime interest--both shipbuilding and shipowning--thrived more, perhaps, than any other gainful industry pursued by the americans. yet it was a time when every imaginable device was employed to keep our people out of the ocean-carrying trade. the british regulations, which denied us access to their ports, were imitated by the french. the napoleonic wars came on, and the belligerents bombarded each other with orders in council and decrees that fell short of their mark, but did havoc among neutral merchantmen. to the ordinary perils of the deep the danger of capture--lawful or unlawful--by cruiser or privateer, was always to be added. the british were still enforcing their so-called "right of search," and many an american ship was left short-handed far out at sea, after a british naval lieutenant had picked the best of her crew on the pretense that they were british subjects. the superficial differences between an american and an englishman not being as great as those between an albino and a congo black, it is not surprising that the boarding officer should occasionally make mistakes--particularly when his ship was in need of smart, active sailors. indeed, in those years the civilized--by which at that period was meant the warlike--nations were all seeking sailors. dutch, spanish, french, and english were eager for men to man their fighting ships; hired them when they could, and stole them when they must. it was the time of the press gang, and the day when sailors carried as a regular part of their kit an outfit of women's clothing in which to escape if the word were passed that "the press is hot to-night." the united states had never to resort to impressment to fill its navy ships' companies, a fact perhaps due chiefly to the small size of its navy in comparison with the seafaring population it had to draw from. as for the american merchant marine, it was full of british seamen. beyond doubt inducements were offered them at every american port to desert and ship under the stars and stripes. in the winter of 1801 every british ship visiting new york lost the greater part of its crew. at norfolk the entire crew of a british merchantman deserted to an american sloop-of-war. a lively trade was done in forged papers of american citizenship, and the british naval officer who gave a boat-load of bluejackets shore leave at new york was liable to find them all americans when their leave was up. other nations looked covetously upon our great body of able-bodied seamen, born within sound of the swash of the surf, nurtured in the fisheries, able to build, to rig, or to navigate a ship. they were fighting sailors, too, though serving only in the merchant marine. in those days the men that went down to the sea in ships had to be prepared to fight other antagonists than neptune and æolus. all the ships went armed. it is curious to read in old annals of the number of cannon carried by small merchantmen. we find the "prudent sarah" mounting 10 guns; the "olive branch," belied her peaceful name with 3, while the pink "friendship" carried 8. these years, too, were the privateers' harvest time. during the revolution the ships owned by one newburyport merchant took 23,360 tons of shipping and 225 men, the prizes with their cargoes selling for $3,950,000. but of the size and the profits of the privateering business more will be said in the chapter devoted to that subject. it is enough to note here that it made the american merchantman essentially a fighting man. the growth of american shipping during the years 1794-1810 is almost incredible in face of the obstacles put in its path by hostile enactments and the perils of the war. in 1794 united states ships, aggregating 438,863 tons, breasted the waves, carrying fish and staves to the west indies, bringing back spices, rum, cocoa, and coffee. sometimes they went from the west indies to the canaries, and thence to the west coast of africa, where very valuable and very pitiful cargoes of human beings, whose black skins were thought to justify their treatment as dumb beasts of burden, were shipped. again the east indies opened markets for buying and selling both. but england and almost the whole of western europe were closed. it is not possible to understand the situation in which the american sailor and shipowner of that day was placed, without some knowledge of the navigation laws and belligerent orders by which the trade was vexed. in 1793 the napoleonic wars began, to continue with slight interruptions until 1815. france and england were the chief contestants, and between them american shipping was sorely harried. the french at first seemed to extend to the enterprising americans a boon of incalculable value to the maritime interest, for the national convention promulgated a decree giving to neutral ships--practically to american ships, for they were the bulk of the neutral shipping--the rights of french ships. overjoyed by this sudden opening of a rich market long closed, the yankee barks and brigs slipped out of the new england harbors in schools, while the shipyards rung with the blows of the hammers, and the forest resounded with the shouts of the woodsmen getting out ship-timbers. the ocean pathway to the french west indies was flecked with sails, and the harbors of st. kitts, guadaloupe, and martinique were crowded. but this bustling trade was short-lived. the argosies that set forth on their peaceful errand were shattered by enemies more dreaded than wind or sea. many a ship reached the port eagerly sought only to rot there; many a merchant was beggared, nor knew what had befallen his hopeful venture until some belated consular report told of its condemnation in some french or english admiralty court. [illustration: early type of smack] for england met france's hospitality with a new stroke at american interests. the trade was not neutral, she said. france had been forced to her concession by war. her people were starving because the vigilance of british cruisers had driven french cruisers from the seas, and no food could be imported. to permit americans to purvey food for the french colonies would clearly be to undo the good work of the british navy. obviously food was contraband of war. so all english men-of-war were ordered to seize french goods on whatever ship found; to confiscate cargoes of wheat, corn, or fish bound for french ports as contraband, and particularly to board all american merchantmen and scrutinize the crews for english-born sailors. the latter injunction was obeyed with peculiar zeal, so that the state department had evidence that at one time, in 1806, there were as many as 6000 american seamen serving unwillingly in the british navy. france, meanwhile, sought retaliation upon england at the expense of the americans. the united states, said the french government, is a sovereign nation. if it does not protect its vessels against unwarrantable british aggressions it is because the americans are secretly in league with the british. france recognizes no difference between its foes. so it is ordered that any american vessel which submitted to visitation and search from an english vessel, or paid dues in a british port, ceased to be neutral, and became subject to capture by the french. the effect of these orders and decrees was simply that any american ship which fell in with an english or french man-of-war or privateer, or was forced by stress of weather to seek shelter in an english or french port, was lost to her owners. the times were rude, evidence was easy to manufacture, captains were rapacious, admiralty judges were complaisant, and american commerce was rich prey. the french west indies fell an easy spoil to the british, and at martinique and basseterre american merchantmen were caught in the harbor. their crews were impressed, their cargoes, not yet discharged, seized, the vessels themselves wantonly destroyed or libelled as prizes. nor were passengers exempt from the rigors of search and plunder. the records of the state department and the rude newspapers of the time are full of the complaints of shipowners, passengers, and shipping merchants. the robbery was prodigious in its amount, the indignity put upon the nation unspeakable. and yet the least complaint came from those who suffered most. the new england seaport towns were filled with idle seamen, their harbors with pinks, schooners, and brigs, lying lazily at anchor. the sailors, with the philosophy of men long accustomed to submit themselves to nature's moods and the vagaries of breezes, cursed british and french impartially, and joined in the general depression and idleness of the towns and counties dependent on their activity. it was about this period (1794) that the american navy was begun; though, curiously enough, its foundation was not the outcome of either british or french depredations, but of the piracies of the algerians. that fierce and predatory people had for long years held the mediterranean as a sort of a private lake into which no nation might send its ships without paying tribute. with singular cowardice, all the european peoples had acquiesced in this conception save england alone. the english were feared by the algerians, and an english pass--which tradition says the illiterate corsairs identified by measuring its enscrolled border, instead of by reading--protected any vessel carrying it. american ships, however, were peculiarly the prey of the algerians, and many an american sailor was sold by them into slavery until decatur and rodgers in 1805 thrashed the piratical states of north africa into recognition of american power. in 1794, however, the americans were not eager for war, and diplomats strove to arrange a treaty which would protect american shipping, while congress prudently ordered the beginning of six frigates, work to be stopped if peace should be made with the dey. the treaty--not one very honorable to us--was indeed made some months later, and the frigates long remained unfinished. it has been the fashion of late years to sneer at our second war with england as unnecessary and inconclusive. but no one who studies the records of the life, industry, and material interests of our people during the years between the adoption of the constitution and the outbreak of that war can fail to wonder that it did not come sooner, and that it was not a war with france as well as england. for our people were then essentially a maritime people. their greatest single manufacturing industry was ship-building. the fisheries--whale, herring, and cod--employed thousands of their men and supported more than one considerable town. the markets for their products lay beyond seas, and for their commerce an undisputed right to the peaceful passage of the ocean was necessary. yet england and france, prosecuting their own quarrel, fairly ground american shipping as between two millstones. our sailors were pressed, our ships seized, their cargoes stolen, under hollow forms of law. the high seas were treated as though they were the hunting preserves of these nations and american ships were quail and rabbits. the london "naval chronicle" at that time, and for long after, bore at the head of its columns the boastful lines: "the sea and waves are britain's broad domain, and not a sail but by permission spreads." and france, while vigorously denying the maxim in so far as it related to british domination, was not able to see that the ocean could be no one nation's domain, but must belong equally to all. it was the time when the french were eloquently discoursing of the rights of man; but they did not appear to regard the peaceful navigation of the ocean as one of those rights; they were preaching of the virtues of the american republic, but their rulers issued orders and decrees that nearly brought the two governments to the point of actual war. but the very fact that france and england were almost equally arrogant and aggressive delayed the formal declaration of hostilities. within the united states two political parties--the federalists and the republicans--were struggling for mastery. the one defended, though half-heartedly, the british, and demanded drastic action against the french spoliators. the other denounced british insolence and extolled our ancient allies and brothers in republicanism, the french. while the politicians quarreled the british stole our sailors and the french stole our ships. in 1798 our, then infant, navy gave bold resistance to the french ships, and for a time a quasi-war was waged on the ocean, in which the frigates "constitution" and "constellation" laid the foundation for that fame which they were to finally achieve in the war with great britain in 1812. no actual war with france grew out of her aggressions. the republicans came into power in the united states, and by diplomacy averted an actual conflict. but the american shipping interests suffered sadly meanwhile. the money finally paid by france as indemnity for her unwarranted spoliations lay long undivided in the united states treasury, and the easy-going labor of urging and adjudicating french spoliation claims furnished employment to some generations of politicians after the despoiled seamen and shipowners had gone down into their graves. in 1800 the whole number of american ships in foreign and coasting trades and the fisheries had reached a tonnage of 972,492. the growth was constant, despite the handicap resulting from the european wars. indeed, it is probable that those wars stimulated american shipping more than the restrictive decrees growing out of them retarded it, for they at least kept england and france (with her allies) out of the active encouragement of maritime enterprise. but the vessels of that day were mere pigmies, and the extent of the trade carried on in them would at this time seem trifling. the gross exports and imports of the united states in 1800 were about $75,000,000 each. the vessels that carried them were of about 250 tons each, the largest attaining 400 tons. an irregular traffic was carried on along the coast, and it was 1801 before the first sloop was built to ply regularly on the hudson between new york and albany. she was of 100 tons, and carried passengers only. sometimes the trip occupied a week, and the owner of the sloop established an innovation by supplying beds, provisions, and wines for his passengers. between boston and new york communication was still irregular, passengers waiting for cargoes. but small as this maritime interest now seems, more money was invested in it, and it occupied more men, than any other american industry, save only agriculture. to this period belong such shipowners as william gray, of boston, who in 1809, though he had sixty great square-rigged ships in commission, nevertheless heartily approved of the embargo with which president jefferson vainly strove to combat the outrages of france and england. though the commerce of those days was world-wide, its methods--particularly on the bookkeeping side--were primitive. "a good captain," said merchant gray, "will sail with a load of fish to the west indies, hang up a stocking in the cabin on arriving, put therein hard dollars as he sells fish, and pay out when he buys rum, molasses, and sugar, and hand in the stocking on his return in full of all accounts." the west indies, though a neighboring market, were far from monopolizing the attention of the new england shipping merchants. ginseng and cash were sent to china for silks and tea, the voyage each way, around the tempestuous horn, occupying six months. in 1785 the publication of the journals of the renowned explorer, captain cook, directed the ever-alert minds of the new englanders to the great herds of seal and sea-otters on the northwestern coast of the united states, and vessels were soon faring thither in pursuit of fur-bearing animals, then plentiful, but now bidding fair to become as rare as the sperm-whale. a typical expedition of this sort was that of the ship "columbia," captain kendrick, and the sloop "washington," captain gray, which sailed september 30, 1787, bound to the northwest coast and china. the merchant who saw his ships drop down the bay bound on such a voyage said farewell to them for a long time--perhaps forever. years must pass before he could know whether the money he had invested, the cargo he had adventured, the stout ships he had dispatched, were to add to his fortune or to be at last a total loss. perhaps for months he might be going about the wharves and coffee-houses, esteeming himself a man of substance and so held by all his neighbors, while in fact his all lay whitening in the surf on some far-distant pacific atoll. so it was almost three years before news came back to boston of these two ships; but then it was glorious, for then the "federalist," of new york, came into port, bringing tidings that at canton she had met the "columbia," and had been told of the discovery by that vessel of the great river in oregon to which her name had been given. thus oregon and washington were given to the infant union, the latter perhaps taking its name from the little sloop of 90 tons which accompanied the "columbia" on her voyage. six months later the two vessels reached boston, and were greeted with salutes of cannon from the forts. they were the first american vessels to circumnavigate the globe. it is pleasant to note that a voyage which was so full of advantage to the nation was profitable to the owners. thereafter an active trade was done with miscellaneous goods to the northwest indians, skins and furs thence to the chinese, and teas home. a typical outbound cargo in this trade was that of the "atakualpa" in 1800. the vessel was of 218 tons, mounted eight guns, and was freighted with broadcloth, flannel, blankets, powder, muskets, watches, tools, beads, and looking-glasses. how great were the proportions that this trade speedily assumed may be judged from the fact that between june, 1800, and january, 1803, there were imported into china, in american vessels, 34,357 sea-otter skins worth on an average $18 to $20 each. over a million sealskins were imported. in this trade were employed 80 ships and 9 brigs and schooners, more than half of them from boston. [illustration: the snow, an obsolete type] indeed, by the last decade of the eighteenth century boston had become the chief shipping port of the united states. in 1790 the arrivals from abroad at that port were 60 ships, 7 snows, 159 brigs, 170 schooners, 59 sloops, besides coasters estimated to number 1,220 sail. in the _independent chronicle_, of october 27, 1791, appears the item: "upwards of seventy sail of vessels sailed from this port on monday last, for all parts of the world." a descriptive sketch, written in 1794 and printed in the massachusetts historical society collections, says of the appearance of the water front at that time: "there are eighty wharves and quays, chiefly on the east side of the town. of these the most distinguished is boston pier, or the long wharf, which extends from the bottom of state street 1,743 feet into the harbor. here the principal navigation of the town is carried on; vessels of all burdens load and unload; and the london ships generally discharge their cargoes.... the harbor of boston is at this date crowded with vessels. it is reckoned that not less than 450 sail of ships, brigs, schooners, sloops, and small craft are now in this port." new york and baltimore, in a large way; salem, hull, portsmouth, new london, new bedford, new haven, and a host of smaller seaports, in a lesser degree, joined in this prosperous industry. it was the great interest of the united states, and so continued, though with interruptions, for more than half a century, influencing the thought, the legislation, and the literature of our people. when daniel webster, himself a son of a seafaring state, sought to awaken his countrymen to the peril into which the nation was drifting through sectional dissensions and avowed antagonism to the national authority, he chose as the opening metaphor of his reply to hayne the description of a ship, drifting rudderless and helpless on the trackless ocean, exposed to perils both known and unknown. the orator knew his audience. to all new england the picture had the vivacity of life. the metaphors of the sea were on every tongue. the story is a familiar one of the boston clergyman who, in one of his discourses, described a poor, sinful soul drifting toward shipwreck so vividly that a sailor in the audience, carried away by the preacher's imaginative skill, cried out: "let go your best bower anchor, or you're lost." in another church, which had its pulpit set at the side instead of at the end, as customary, a sailor remarked critically: "i don't like this craft; it has its rudder amidships." at this time, and, indeed, for perhaps fifty years thereafter, the sea was a favorite career, not only for american boys with their way to make in the world, but for the sons of wealthy men as well. that classic of new england seamanship, "two years before the mast," was not written until the middle of the nineteenth century, and its author went to sea, not in search of wealth, but of health. but before the time of richard henry dana, many a young man of good family and education--a harvard graduate like him, perhaps--bade farewell to a home of comfort and refinement and made his berth in a smoky, fetid forecastle to learn the sailor's calling. the sons of the great shipping merchants almost invariably made a few voyages--oftenest as supercargoes, perhaps, but not infrequently as common seamen. in time special quarters, midway between the cabin and the forecastle, were provided for these apprentices, who were known as the "ship's cousins." they did the work of the seamen before the mast, but were regarded as brevet officers. there was at that time less to engage the activities and arouse the ambitions of youth than now, and the sea offered the most promising career. moreover, the trading methods involved, and the relations of the captain or other officers to the owners, were such as to spur ambition and promise profit. the merchant was then greatly dependent on his captain, who must judge markets, buy and sell, and shape his course without direction from home. so the custom arose of giving the captain--and sometimes other officers--an opportunity to carry goods of their own in the ship, or to share the owner's adventure. in the whaling and fishery business we shall see that an almost pure communism prevailed. these conditions attracted to the maritime calling men of an enterprising and ambitious nature--men to whom the conditions to-day of mere wage servitude, fixed routes, and constant dependence upon the cabled or telegraphed orders of the owner would be intolerable. profits were heavy, and the men who earned them were afforded opportunities to share them. ships were multiplying fast, and no really lively and alert seaman need stay long in the forecastle. often they became full-fledged captains and part owners at the age of twenty-one, or even earlier, for boys went to sea at ages when the youngsters of equally prosperous families in these days would scarcely have passed from the care of a nurse to that of a tutor. thomas t. forbes, for example, shipped before the mast at the age of thirteen; was commander of the "levant" at twenty; and was lost in the canton river before he was thirty. he was of a family great in the history of new england shipping for a hundred years. nathaniel silsbee, afterwards united states senator from massachusetts, was master of a ship in the east india trade before he was twenty-one; while john p. cushing at the age of sixteen was the sole--and highly successful--representative in china of a large boston house. william sturges, afterwards the head of a great world-wide trading house, shipped at seventeen, was a captain and manager in the china trade at nineteen, and at twenty-nine left the quarter-deck with a competence to establish his firm, which at one time controlled half the trade between the united states and china. a score of such successes might be recounted. but the fee which these yankee boys paid for introduction into their calling was a heavy one. dana's description of life in the forecastle, written in 1840, holds good for the conditions prevailing for forty years before and forty after he penned it. the greeting which his captain gave to the crew of the brig "pilgrim" was repeated, with little variation, on a thousand quarter-decks: "now, my men, we have begun a long voyage. if we get along well together we shall have a comfortable time; if we don't, we shall hay hell afloat. all you have to do is to obey your orders and do your duty like men--then you will fare well enough; if you don't, you will fare hard enough, i can tell you. if we pull together you will find me a clever fellow; if we don't, you will find me a bloody rascal. that's all i've got to say. go below the larboard watch." but the note of roughness and blackguardism was not always sounded on american ships. we find, in looking over old memoirs, that more than one vessel was known as a "religious ship"--though, indeed, the very fact that few were thus noted speaks volumes for the paganism of the mass. but the shipowners of puritan new england not infrequently laid stress on the moral character of the men shipped. nathaniel ames, a harvard graduate who shipped before the mast, records that on his first vessel men seeking berths even in the forecastle were ordered to bring certificates of good character from the clergyman whose church they had last attended. beyond doubt, however, this was a most unusual requirement. more often the majority of the crew were rough, illiterate fellows, often enticed into shipping while under the influence of liquor, and almost always coming aboard at the last moment, much the worse for long debauches. the men of a better sort who occasionally found themselves unluckily shipped with such a crew, have left on record many curious stories of the way in which sailors, utterly unable to walk on shore or on deck for intoxication, would, at the word of command, spring into the rigging, clamber up the shrouds, shake out reefs, and perform the most difficult duties aloft. [illustration: the bug-eye] most of the things which go to make the sailor's lot at least tolerable nowadays, were at that time unknown. a smoky lamp swung on gimbals half-lighted the forecastle--an apartment which, in a craft of scant 400 tons, did not afford commodious quarters for a crew of perhaps a score, with their sea chests and bags. the condition of the fetid hole at the beginning of the voyage, with four or five apprentices or green hands deathly sick, the hardened seamen puffing out clouds of tobacco smoke, and perhaps all redolent of rum, was enough to disenchant the most ardent lover of the sea. the food, bad enough in all ages of seafaring, was, in the early days of our merchant marine, too often barely fit to keep life in men's bodies. the unceasing round of salt pork, stale beef, "duff," "lobscouse," doubtful coffee sweetened with molasses, and water, stale, lukewarm, and tasting vilely of the hogshead in which it had been stored, required sturdy appetites to make it even tolerable. even in later days frank t. bullen was able to write: "i have often seen the men break up a couple of biscuits into a pot of coffee for their breakfast, and after letting it stand a minute or two, skim off the accumulated scum of vermin from the top--maggots, weevils, etc--to the extent of a couple of tablespoonsful, before they could shovel the mess into their craving stomachs." it may be justly doubted whether history has ever known a race of men so hardy, so self-reliant, so adaptable to the most complex situations, so determined to compel success, and so resigned in the presence of inevitable failure, as the early american sea captains. their lives were spent in a ceaseless conflict with the forces of nature and of men. they had to deal with a mutinous crew one day and with a typhoon the next. if by skillful seamanship a piratical schooner was avoided in the reaches of the spanish main, the resources of diplomacy would be taxed the next day to persuade some english or french colonial governor not to seize the cargo that had escaped the pirates. the captain must be a seaman, a sea-soldier, a sea-lawyer, and a sea-merchant, shut off from his principals by space which no electric current then annihilated. he must study markets, sell his cargo at the most profitable point, buy what his prophetic vision suggested would sell profitably, and sell half a dozen intermediate cargoes before returning, and even dispose of the vessel herself, if gain would result. his experience was almost as much commercial as nautical, and many of the shipping merchants who formed the aristocracy of old new york and boston, mounted from the forecastle to the cabin, thence to the counting-room. in a paper on the maritime trade of salem, the rev. george bachelor tells of the conditions of this early seafaring, the sort of men engaged in it, and the stimulus it offered to all their faculties: "after a century of comparative quiet, the citizens of the little town were suddenly dispersed to every part of the oriental world, and to every nook of barbarism which had a market and a shore. the borders of the commercial world received sudden enlargement, and the boundaries of the intellectual world underwent similar expansion. the reward of enterprise might be the discovery of an island in which wild pepper enough to load a ship might be had almost for the asking, or of forests where precious gems had no commercial value, or spice islands unvisited and unvexed by civilization. every ship-master and every mariner returning on a richly loaded ship was the custodian of valuable information. in those days crews were made up of salem boys, every one of whom expected to become an east indian merchant. when a captain was asked at manila how he contrived to find his way in the teeth of a northeast monsoon by mere dead reckoning, he replied that he had a crew of twelve men, any one of whom could take and work a lunar observation as well, for all practical purposes, as sir isaac newton himself. "when, in 1816, george coggeshall coasted the mediterranean in the 'cleopatra's barge,' a magnificent yacht of 197 tons, which excited the wonder even of the genoese, the black cook, who had once sailed with bowditch, was found to be as competent to keep a ship's reckoning as any of the officers. "rival merchants sometimes drove the work of preparation night and day, when virgin markets had favors to be won, and ships which set out for unknown ports were watched when they slipped their cables and sailed away by night, and dogged for months on the high seas, in the hopes of discovering a secret, well kept by the owner and crew. every man on board was allowed a certain space for his own little venture. people in other pursuits, not excepting the owner's minister, entrusted their savings to the supercargo, and watched eagerly the result of their adventure. this great mental activity, the profuse stores of knowledge brought by every ship's crew, and distributed, together with india shawls, blue china, and unheard-of curiosities from every savage shore, gave the community a rare alertness of intellect." the spirit in which young fellows, scarcely attained to years of maturity, met and overcame the dangers of the deep is vividly depicted in captain george coggeshall's narrative of his first face-to-face encounter with death. he was in the schooner "industry," off the island of teneriffe, during a heavy gale. "captain k. told me i had better go below, and that he would keep an outlook and take a little tea biscuit on deck. i had entered the cabin, when i felt a terrible shock. i ran to the companion-way, when i saw a ship athwart our bows. at that moment our foremast went by the board, carrying with it our main topmast. in an instant the two vessels separated, and we were left a perfect wreck. the ship showed a light for a few moments and then disappeared, leaving us to our fate. when we came to examine our situation, we found our bowsprit gone close to the knight-heads." an investigation showed that the collision had left the "industry" in a grievous state, while the gale, ever increasing, blew directly on shore. but the sailors fought sturdily for life. "to retard the schooner's drift, we kept the wreck of the foremast, bowsprit, sails, spars, etc., fast by the bowsprit shrouds and other ropes, so that we drifted to leeward but about two miles the hour. to secure the mainmast was now the first object. i therefore took with me one of the best of the crew, and carried the end of a rope cable with us up to the mainmast head, and clenched it round the mast, while it was badly springing. we then took the cable to the windlass and hove taut, and thus effectually secured the mast.... we were then drifting directly on shore, where the cliffs were rocky, abrupt, and almost perpendicular, and were perhaps almost 1,000 feet high. at each blast of lightning we could see the surf break, whilst we heard the awful roar of the sea dashing and breaking against the rocks and caverns of this iron-bound island. [illustration: a "pink"] "when i went below i found the captain in the act of going to bed; and as near as i can recollect, the following dialogue took place: "'well, captain k., what shall we do next? we have now about six hours to pass before daylight; and, according to my calculation, we have only about three hours more drift. still, before that time there may, perhaps, be some favorable change.' "he replied: 'mr. c., we have done all we can, and can do nothing more. i am resigned to my fate, and think nothing can save us.' "i replied: 'perhaps you are right; still, i am resolved to struggle to the last. i am too young to die; i am only twenty-one years of age, and have a widowed mother, three brothers, and a sister looking to me for support and sympathy. no, sir, i will struggle and persevere to the last.' "'ah,' said he, 'what can you do? our boat will not live five minutes in the surf, and you have no other resource.' "'i will take the boat,' said i, 'and when she fills i will cling to a spar. i will not die until my strength is exhausted and i can breathe no longer.' here the conversation ended, when the captain covered his head with a blanket. i then wrote the substance of our misfortune in the log-book, and also a letter to my mother; rolled them up in a piece of tarred canvas; and, assisted by the carpenter, put the package into a tight keg, thinking that this might probably be thrown on shore, and thus our friends might perhaps know of our end." men who face death thus sturdily are apt to overcome him. the gale lessened, the ship was patched up, the craven captain resumed command, and in two weeks' time the "industry" sailed, sorely battered, into santa cruz, to find that she had been given up as lost, and her officers and crew "were looked upon as so many men risen from the dead." young coggeshall lived to follow the sea until gray-haired and weather-beaten, to die in his bed at last, and to tell the story of his eighty voyages in two volumes of memoirs, now growing very rare. before he was sixteen he had made the voyage to cadiz--a port now moldering, but which once was one of the great portals for the commerce of the world. in his second voyage, while lying in the harbor of gibraltar, he witnessed one of the almost every-day dangers to which american sailors of that time were exposed: "while we were lying in this port, one morning at daylight we heard firing at a distance. i took a spy-glass, and from aloft could clearly see three gunboats engaged with a large ship. it was a fine, clear morning, with scarcely wind enough to ruffle the glass-like surface of the water. during the first hour or two of this engagement the gunboats had an immense advantage; being propelled both by sails and oars, they were enabled to choose their own position. while the ship lay becalmed and unmanageable they poured grape and canister shot into her stern and bows like hailstones. at this time the ship's crew could not bring a single gun to bear upon them, and all they could do was to use their small arms through the ports and over the rails. fortunately for the crew, the ship had thick and high bulwarks, which protected them from the fire of the enemy, so that while they were hid and screened by the boarding cloths, they could use their small arms to great advantage. at this stage of the action, while the captain, with his speaking-trumpet under his left arm, was endeavoring to bring one of his big guns to bear on one of the gunboats, a grapeshot passed through the port and trumpet and entered his chest near his shoulder-blade. the chief mate carried him below and laid him upon a mattress on the cabin floor. for a moment it seemed to dampen the ardor of the men; but it was but for an instant. the chief mate (i think his name was randall), a gallant young man from nantucket, then took the command, rallied, and encouraged the men to continue the action with renewed obstinacy and vigor. at this time a lateen-rigged vessel, the largest of the three privateers, was preparing to make a desperate attempt to board the ship on the larboard quarter, and, with nearly all his men on the forecastle and long bowsprit, were ready to take the final leap. "in order to meet and frustrate the design of the enemy, the mate of the ship had one of the quarter-deck guns loaded with grape and canister shot; he then ordered all the ports on this quarter to be shut, so that the gun could not be seen; and thus were both parties prepared when the privateer came boldly up within a few yards of the ship's lee quarter. the captain, with a threatening flourish of his sword, cried out with a loud voice, in broken english: 'strike, you damned rascal, or i will put you all to death.' at this moment a diminutive-looking man on board the 'louisa,' with a musket, took deliberate aim through one of the waist ports, and shot him dead. instantly the gun was run out and discharged upon the foe with deadly effect, so that the remaining few on board the privateer, amazed and astounded, were glad to give up the conflict and get off the best way they could. "soon after this a breeze sprung up, so that they could work their great guns to some purpose. i never shall forget the moment when i saw the star-spangled banner blow out and wave gracefully in the wind, through the smoke. i also at the same moment saw with pleasure the three gunboats sailing and rowing away toward the land to make their escape. when the ship drew near the port, all the boats from the american shipping voluntarily went to assist in bringing her to anchor. she proved to be the letter-of-marque ship 'louisa,' of philadelphia. "i went with our captain on board of her, and we there learned that, with the exception of the captain, not a man had been killed or wounded. the ship was terribly cut up and crippled in her sails and rigging--lifts and braces shot away; her stern was literally riddled like a grater, and both large and small shot, in great numbers, had entered her hull and were sticking to her sides. how the officers and crew escaped unhurt is almost impossible to conceive. the poor captain was immediately taken on shore, but only survived his wound a few days. he had a public funeral, and was followed to the grave by all the americans in gibraltar, and very many of the officers of the garrison and inhabitants of the town. [illustration: "instantly the gun was run out and discharged"] "the ship had a rich cargo of coffee, sugar, and india goods on board, and i believe was bound for leghorn. the gunboats belonged to algeciras and fought under french colors, but were probably manned by the debased of all nations. i can form no idea how many were killed or wounded on board the gunboats, but from the great number of men on board, and from the length of the action, there must have been great slaughter. neither can i say positively how long the engagement lasted; but i should think at least from three to four hours. to the chief mate too much credit can not be given for saving the ship after the captain was shot." this action occurred in 1800, and the assailants fought under french colors, though the united states were at peace with france. it was fought within easy eyesight of gibraltar, and therefore in british waters; but no effort was made by the british men-of-war--always plentiful there--to maintain the neutrality of the port. for sailors to be robbed or murdered, or to fight with desperation to avert robbery and murder, was then only a commonplace of the sea. men from the safety of the adjoining shore only looked on in calm curiosity, as nowadays men look on indifferently to see the powerful freebooter of the not less troubled business sea rob, impoverish, and perhaps drive down to untimely death others who only ask to be permitted to make their little voyages unvexed by corsairs. from a little book of memoirs of captain richard j. cleveland, the curious observer can learn what it was to belong to a seafaring family in the golden days of american shipping. his was a salem stock. his father, in 1756, when but sixteen years old, was captured by a british press-gang in the streets of boston, and served for years in the british navy. for this compulsory servitude he exacted full compensation in later years by building and commanding divers privateers to prey upon the commerce of england. his three sons all became sailors, taking to the water like young ducks. a characteristic note of the cosmopolitanism of the young new englander of that day is sounded in the most matter-of-fact fashion by young cleveland in a letter from havre: "i can't help loving home, though i think a young man ought to be at home in any part of the globe." and at home everywhere captain cleveland certainly was. all his life was spent in wandering over the seven seas, in ships of every size, from a 25-ton cutter to a 400-ton indiaman. in those days of navigation laws, blockades, hostile cruisers, hungry privateers, and bloodthirsty pirates, the smaller craft was often the better, for it was wiser to brave nature's moods in a cockle-shell than to attract men's notice in a great ship. captain cleveland's voyages from havre to the cape of good hope, in a 45-ton cutter; from calcutta to the isle of france, in a 25-ton sloop; and captain coggeshall's voyage around cape horn in an unseaworthy pilot-boat are typical exploits of yankee seamanship. we see the same spirit manifested occasionally nowadays when some new englander crosses the ocean in a dory, or circumnavigates the world alone in a 30-foot sloop. but these adventures are apt to end ignominiously in a dime museum. a noted sailor in his time was captain benjamin i. trask, master of many ships, ruler of many deeps, who died in harness in 1871, and for whom the flags on the shipping in new york bay were set at half-mast. an appreciative writer, mr. george w. sheldon, in _harper's magazine_, tells this story to show what manner of man he was; it was on the ship "saratoga," from havre to new york, with a crew among whom were several recently liberated french convicts: "the first day out the new crew were very troublesome, owing in part, doubtless, to the absence of the mate, who was ill in bed and who died after a few hours. suddenly the second mate, son of the commander, heard his father call out, 'take hold of the wheel,' and going forward, saw him holding a sailor at arm's length. the mutineer was soon lodged in the cockpit; but all hands--the watch below and the watch on deck--came aft as if obeying a signal, with threatening faces and clenched fists. the captain, methodical and cool, ordered his son to run a line across the deck between him and the rebellious crew, and to arm the steward and the third mate. "'now go forward and get to work', he said to the gang, who immediately made a demonstration to break the line. 'the first man who passes that rope,' added the captain, 'i will shoot. i am going to call you one by one; if two come at a time i will shoot both.' "the first to come forward was a big fellow in a red shirt. he had hesitated to advance when called; but the 'i will give you one more invitation, sir,' of the captain furnished him with the requisite resolution. so large were his wrists that ordinary shackles were too small to go around them, and ankle-shackles took their place. escorted by the second and third mates to the cabin, he was made to lie flat on his stomach, while staples were driven through the chains of his handcuffs to pin him down. after eighteen of the mutineers had been similarly treated, the captain himself withdrew to the cabin and lay on a sofa, telling the second mate to call him in an hour. the next minute he was asleep with the stapled ruffians all around him." as the ocean routes became more clearly defined, and the limitations and character of international trade more systematized, there sprung up a new type of american ship-master. the older type--and the more romantic--was the man who took his ship from boston or new york, not knowing how many ports he might enter nor in how many markets he might have to chaffer before his return. but in time there came to be regular trade routes, over which ships went and came with almost the regularity of the great steamships on the atlantic ferry to-day. early in the nineteenth century the movement of both freight and passengers between new york or boston on this side and london and liverpool on the other began to demand regular sailings on announced days, and so the era of the american packet-ship began. then, too, the trade with china grew to such great proportions that some of the finest fortunes america knew in the days before the "trust magnate" and the "multimillionaire"--were founded upon it. the clipper-built ship, designed to bring home the cargoes of tea in season to catch the early market, was the outcome of this trade. adventures were still for the old-time trading captain who wandered about from port to port with miscellaneous cargoes; but the new aristocracy of the sea trod the deck of the packets and the clippers. their ships were built all along the new england coast; but builders on the shores of chesapeake bay soon began to struggle for preëminence in this style of naval architecture. thus, even in the days of wooden ships, the center of the ship-building industry began to move toward that point where it now seems definitely located. by 1815 the name "baltimore clipper" was taken all over the world to signify the highest type of merchant vessel that man's skill could design. it was a baltimore ship which first, in 1785, displayed the american flag in the canton river and brought thence the first cargo of silks and teas. thereafter, until the decline of american shipping, the baltimore clippers led in the chinese trade. these clippers in model were the outcome of forty years of effort to evade hostile cruisers, privateers, and pirates on the lawless seas. to be swift, inconspicuous, quick in maneuvering, and to offer a small target to the guns of the enemy, were the fundamental considerations involved in their design. mr. henry hall, who, as special agent for the united states census, made in 1880 an inquiry into the history of ship-building in the united states, says in his report: "a permanent impression has been made upon the form and rig of american vessels by forty years of war and interference. it was during that period that the shapes and fashions that prevail to-day were substantially attained. the old high poop-decks and quarter galleries disappeared with the lateen and the lug-sails on brigs, barks, and ships; the sharp stem was permanently abandoned; the curving home of the stem above the house poles went out of vogue, and vessels became longer in proportion to beam. the round bottoms were much in use, but the tendency toward a straight rise of the floor from the keel to a point half-way to the outer width of the ship became marked and popular. hollow water-lines fore and aft were introduced; the forefoot of the hull ceased to be cut away so much, and the swell of the sides became less marked; the bows became somewhat sharper and were often made flaring above the water, and the square sprit-sail below the bowsprit was given up. american ship-builders had not yet learned to give their vessels much sheer, however, and in a majority of them the sheer line was almost straight from stem to stern; nor had they learned to divide the topsail into an upper and lower sail, and american vessels were distinguished by their short lower mast and the immense hoist of the topsail. the broadest beam was still at two-fifths the length of the hull. hemp rigging, with broad channels and immense tops to the masts, was still retained; but the general arrangement and cut of the head, stay, square, and spanker sails at present in fashion were reached. the schooner rig had also become thoroughly popularized, especially for small vessels requiring speed; and the fast vessels of the day were the brigs and schooners, which were made long and sharp on the floor and low in the water, with considerable rake to the masts." such is the technical description of the changes which years of peril and of war wrought in the model of the american sailing ship. how the vessel herself, under full sail, looked when seen through the eyes of one who was a sailor, with the education of a writer and the temperament of a poet, is well told in these lines from "two years before the mast": "notwithstanding all that has been said about the beauty of a ship under full sail, there are very few who have ever seen a ship literally under all her sail. a ship never has all her sail upon her except when she has a light, steady breeze very nearly, but not quite, dead aft, and so regular that it can be trusted and is likely to last for some time. then, with all her sails, light and heavy, and studding-sails on each side alow and aloft, she is the most glorious moving object in the world. such a sight very few, even some who have been at sea a good deal, have ever beheld; for from the deck of your own vessel you can not see her as you would a separate object. "one night, while we were in the tropics, i went out to the end of the flying jib-boom upon some duty; and, having finished it, turned around and lay over the boom for a long time, admiring the beauty of the sight before me. being so far out from the deck, i could look at the ship as at a separate vessel; and there rose up from the water, supported only by the small black hull, a pyramid of canvas spreading far out beyond the hull and towering up almost, as it seemed in the indistinct night, into the clouds. the sea was as still as an inland lake; the light trade-wind was gently and steadily breathing from astern; the dark-blue sky was studded with the tropical stars; there was no sound but the rippling of the water under the stem; and the sails were spread out wide and high--the two lower studding-sails stretching on either side far beyond the deck; the topmost studding-sails like wings to the topsails; the topgallant studding-sails spreading fearlessly out above them; still higher the two royal studding-sails, looking like two kites flying from the same string; and highest of all the little sky-sail, the apex of the pyramid, seeming actually to touch the stars and to be out of reach of human hand. so quiet, too, was the sea, and so steady the breeze, that if these sails had been sculptured marble they could not have been more motionless--not a ripple on the surface of the canvas; not even a quivering of the extreme edges of the sail, so perfectly were they distended by the breeze. i was so lost in the sight that i forgot the presence of the man who came out with me, until he said (for he, too, rough old man-of-war's man that he was, had been gazing at the show), half to himself, still looking at the marble sails: 'how quietly they do their work!'" the building of packet ships began in 1814, when some semblance of peace and order appeared upon the ocean, and continued until almost the time of the civil war, when steamships had already begun to cut away the business of the old packets, and the confederate cruisers were not needed to complete the work. but in their day these were grand examples of marine architecture. the first of the american transatlantic lines was the black ball line, so called from the black sphere on the white pennant which its ships displayed. this line was founded in 1815, by isaac wright & company, with four ships sailing the first of every month, and making the outward run in about twenty-three days, the homeward voyage in about forty. these records were often beaten by ships of this and other lines. from thirteen to fifteen days to liverpool was not an unknown record, but was rare enough to cause comment. it was in this era that the increase in the size of ships began--an increase which is still going on without any sign of check. before the war of 1812 men circumnavigated the world in vessels that would look small now carrying brick on the tappan zee. the performances of our frigates in 1812 first called the attention of builders to the possibilities of the bigger ship. the early packets were ships of from 400 to 500 tons each. as business grew larger ones were built--stout ships of 900 to 1100 tons, double-decked, with a poop-deck aft and a top-gallant forecastle forward. the first three-decker was the "guy mannering," 1419 tons, built in 1849 by william h. webb, of new york, who later founded the college and home for ship-builders that stands on the wooded hills north of the harlem river. in 1841, clark & sewall, of bath, me.--an historic house--built the "rappahannock," 179.6 feet long, with a tonnage of 1133 tons. for a time she was thought to be as much of a "white elephant" as the "great eastern" afterwards proved to be. people flocked to study her lines on the ways and see her launched. they said only a rothschild could afford to own her, and indeed when she appeared in the mississippi--being built for the cotton trade--freights to liverpool instantly fell off. but thereafter the size of ships--both packet and clippers--steadily and rapidly increased. glancing down the long table of ships and their records prepared for the united states census, we find such notations as these. ship "flying cloud," built 1851; tonnage 1782; 374 miles in one day; from new york to san francisco in 89 days 18 hours; in one day she made 433-1/2 miles, but reducing this to exactly 24 hours, she made 427-1/2 miles. ship "comet," built 1851; tonnage 1836; beautiful model and good ship; made 332 knots in 24 hours, and 1512 knots in 120 consecutive hours. "sovereign of the seas," built 1852; tonnage 2421; ran 6,245 miles in 22 days; 436 miles in one day; for four days her average was 398 miles. "lightning," built 1854; tonnage 2084; ran 436 miles in 24 hours, drawing 22 feet; from england to calcutta with troops, in 87 days, beating other sailing vessels by from 16 to 40 days; from boston to liverpool in 13 days 20 hours. "james baines," built 1854, tonnage 2515; from boston to liverpool in 12 days 6 hours. three of these ships came from the historic yards of donald mckay, at new york, one of the most famous of american ship-builders. the figures show the steady gain in size and speed that characterized the work of american ship-builders in those days. then the united states was in truth a maritime nation. every boy knew the sizes and records of the great ships, and each magnificent clipper had its eager partisans. foreign trade was active. merchants made great profit on cargoes from china, and speed was a prime element in the value of a ship. in 1840 the discovery of gold in california added a new demand for ocean shipping; the voyage around the horn, already common enough for whalemen and men engaged in asiatic trade, was taken by tens of thousands of adventurers. then came the news of gold in australia, and again demands were clamorous for more swift american ships. all nations of europe were buyers at our shipyards, and our builders began seriously to consider whether the supply of timber would hold out. the yards of maine and massachusetts sent far afield for white oak knees and pine planking. southern forests were drawn upon, and even the stately pines of puget sound were felled to make masts for a yankee ship. **transcriber's notes: page 4: removed extraneous ' after "corsairs" page 41: changed atempt to attempt chapter ii. the transition from sails to steam--the change in marine architecture--the depopulation of the ocean--changes in the sailor's lot--from wood to steel--the invention of the steamboat--the fate of fitch--fulton's long struggles--opposition of the scientists--the "clermont"--the steamboat on the ocean--on western rivers--the transatlantic passage--the "savannah" makes the first crossing--establishment of british lines--efforts of united states ship-owners to compete--the famous collins line--the decadence of our merchant marine--signs of its revival--our great domestic shipping interest--america's future on the sea. even as recently as twenty years ago, the water front of a great seaport like new york, viewed from the harbor, showed a towering forest of tall and tapering masts, reaching high up above the roofs of the water-side buildings, crossed with slender spars hung with snowy canvas, and braced with a web of taut cordage. across the street that passed the foot of the slips, reached out the great bowsprits or jibbooms, springing from fine-drawn bows where, above a keen cut-water, the figurehead--pride of the ship--nestled in confident strength. neptune with his trident, venus rising from the sea, admirals of every age and nationality, favorite heroes like wellington and andrew jackson were carved, with varying skill, from stout oak, and set up to guide their vessels through tumultuous seas. [illustration: "the water front of a great seaport like new york"] to-day, alas, the towering masts, the trim yards, the web of cordage, the quaint figureheads, are gone or going fast. the docks, once so populous, seem deserted--not because maritime trade has fallen off, but because one steamship does the work that twenty stout clippers once were needed for. the clipper bow with figurehead and reaching jib-boom are gone, for the modern steamship has its bow bluff, its stem perpendicular, the "city of rome" being the last great steamship to adhere to the old model. it is not improbable, however, that in this respect we shall see a return to old models, for the straight stem--an american invention, by the way--is held to be more dangerous in case of collisions. many of the old-time sailing ships have been shorn of their towering masts, robbed of their canvas, and made into ignoble barges which, loaded with coal, are towed along by some fuming, fussing tugboat--as samson shorn of his locks was made to bear the burdens of the philistines. this transformation from sail to steam has robbed the ocean of much of its picturesqueness, and seafaring life of much of its charm, as well as of many of its dangers. the greater size of vessels and their swifter trips under steam, have had the effect of depopulating the ocean, even in established trade routes. in the old days of ocean travel the meeting of a ship at sea was an event long to be remembered. the faint speck on the horizon, discernible only through the captain's glass, was hours in taking on the form of a ship. if a full-rigged ship, no handiwork of man could equal her impressiveness as she bore down before the wind, sail mounting on sail of billowing whiteness, until for the small hull cleaving the waves so swiftly, to carry all seemed nothing sort of marvelous. always there was a hail and an interchange of names and ports; sometimes both vessels rounded to and boats passed and repassed. but now the courtesies of the sea have gone with its picturesqueness. great ocean liners rushing through the deep, give each other as little heed as railway trains passing on parallel tracks. a twinkle of electric signals, or a fluttering of parti-colored flags, and each seeks its own horizon--the incident bounded by minutes where once it would have taken hours. it would not be easy to say whether the sailor's lot has been lightened or not, by the substitution of steel for wood, of steam for sail. perhaps the best evidence that the native-born american does not regard the change as wholly a blessing, is to be found in the fact that but few of them now follow the sea, and scarcely a vestige is left of the old new england seafaring population except in the fisheries--where sails are still the rule. doubtless the explanation of this lies in the changed conditions of seafaring as a business. in the days which i have sketched in the first chapter, the boy of good habits and reasonable education who shipped before the mast, was fairly sure of prompt promotion to the quarter-deck, of a right to share in the profits of the voyage, and of finally owning his own ship. after 1860 all these conditions changed. steamships, always costly to build, involved greater and greater investments as their size increased. early in the history of steam navigation they became exclusively the property of corporations. latterly the steamship lines have become adjuncts to great railway lines, and are conducted by the practiced stock manipulator--not by the veteran sea captain. richard j. cleveland, a successful merchant navigator of the early days of the nineteenth century, when little more than a lad, undertook an enterprise, thus described by him in a letter from havre: "i have purchased a cutter-sloop of forty-three tons burden, on a credit of two years. this vessel was built at dieppe and fitted out for a privateer; was taken by the english, and has been plying between dover and calais as a packet-boat. she has excellent accommodations and sails fast. i shall copper her, put her in ballast, trim with £1000 or £1500 sterling in cargo, and proceed to the isle of france and bourbon, where i expect to sell her, as well as the cargo, at a very handsome profit, and have no doubt of being well paid for my twelve months' work, calculating to be with you next august." [illustration: an armed cutter] in such enterprises the young american sailors were always engaging--braving equally the perils of the deep and not less treacherous reefs and shoals of business but always struggling to become their own masters to command their own ships, and if possible, to carry their own cargoes. the youth of a nation that had fought for political independence, fought themselves for economic independence. to men of this sort the conditions bred by the steam-carrying trade were intolerable. to-day a great steamship may well cost $2,000,000. it must have the favor of railway companies for cargoes, must possess expensive wharves at each end of its route, must have an army of agents and solicitors ever engaged upon its business. the boy who ships before the mast on one of them, is less likely to rise to the position of owner, than the switchman is to become railroad president--the latter progress has been known, but of the former i can not find a trace. so comparatively few young americans choose the sea for their workshop in this day of steam. if this book were the story of the merchant marine of all lands and all peoples, a chapter on the development of the steamship would be, perhaps, the most important, and certainly the most considerable part of it. but with the adoption of steam for ocean carriage began the decline of american shipping, a decline hastened by the use of iron, and then steel, for hulls. though we credit ourselves--not without some protest from england--with the invention of the steamboat, the adaptation of the screw to the propulsion of vessels, and the invention of triple-expansion engines, yet it was england that seized upon these inventions and with them won, and long held, the commercial mastery of the seas. to-day (1902) it seems that economic conditions have so changed that the shipyards of the united states will again compete for the business of the world. we are building ships as good--perhaps better--than can be constructed anywhere else, but thus far we have not been able to build them as cheap. accordingly our builders have been restricted to the construction of warships, coasters, and yachts. national pride has naturally demanded that all vessels for the navy be built in american shipyards, and a federal law has long restricted the trade between ports of the united states to ships built here. the lake shipping, too--prodigious in numbers and activity--is purely american. but until within a few years the american flag had almost disappeared from vessels engaged in international trade. americans in many instances are the owners of ships flying the british flag, for the united states laws deny american registry--which is to a ship what citizenship is to a man--to vessels built abroad. while the result of this attempt to protect american shipyards has been to drive our flag from the ocean, there are indications now that our shipyards are prepared to build as cheaply as others, and that the flag will again figure on the high seas. popular history has ascribed to robert fulton the honor of building and navigating the first steamboat. like claims to priority in many other inventions, this one is strenuously contested. two years before fulton's "clermont" appeared on the hudson, john stevens, of hoboken, built a steamboat propelled by a screw, the model of which is still in the stevens polytechnic institute. earlier still, john fitch, of pennsylvania, had made a steamboat, and urged it upon franklin, upon washington, and upon the american philosophical society without success; tried it then with the spanish minister, and was offered a subsidy by the king of spain for the exclusive right to the invention. being a patriotic american, fitch refused. "my invention must be first for my own country and then for all the world," said he. but later, after failing to reap any profit from his discover and finding himself deprived even of the honor of first invention, he wrote bitterly in 1792: "the strange ideas i had at that time of serving my country, without the least suspicion that my only reward would be contempt and opprobrious names! to refuse the offer of the spanish nation was the act of a blockhead of which i should not be guilty again." indeed fitch's fortune was hard. his invention was a work of the purest originality. he was unread, uneducated, and had never so much as heard of a steam-engine when the idea of propelling boats by steam came to him. after repeated rebuffs--the lot of every inventor--he at length secured from the state of new jersey the right to navigate its waters for a term of years. with this a stock company was formed and the first boat built and rebuilt. at first it was propelled by a single paddle at the stem; then by a series of paddles attached to an endless chain on each side of the boat; afterwards by paddle-wheels, and finally by upright oars at the side. the first test made on the delaware river in august, 1787--twenty years before fulton--in the presence of many distinguished citizens, some of them members of the federal convention, which had adjourned for the purpose, was completely successful. the boiler burst before the afternoon was over, but not before the inventor had demonstrated the complete practicability of his invention. for ten years, struggling the while against cruel poverty, john fitch labored to perfect his steamboat, and to force it upon the public favor, but in vain. never in the history of invention did a new device more fully meet the traditional "long-felt want." here was a growing nation made up of a fringe of colonies strung along an extended coast. no roads were built. dense forests blocked the way inland but were pierced by navigable streams, deep bays, and placid sounds. the steamboat was the one thing necessary to cement american unity and speed american progress; but a full quarter of a century passed after fitch had steamed up and down the delaware before the new system of propulsion became commercially useful. the inventor did not live to see that day, and was at least spared the pain of seeing a later pioneer get credit for a discovery he thought his own. in 1798 he died--of an overdose of morphine--leaving behind the bitter writing: "the day will come when some powerful man will get fame and riches from my invention; but nobody will ever believe that poor john fitch can do anything worthy of attention." in trying to make amends for the long injustice done to poor fitch, modern history has come near to going beyond justice. it is undoubted that fitch applied steam to the propulsion of a boat, long before fulton, but that fitch himself was the first inventor is not so certain. blasco de garay built a rude steamboat in barcelona in 1543; in germany one papin built one a few years later, which bargemen destroyed lest their business be injured by it. jonathan hulls, of liverpool, in 1737 built a stern-wheeler, rude engravings of which are still in existence, and symington in 1801 built a thoroughly practical steamboat at dundee. 'tis a vexed question, and perhaps it is well enough to say that fitch first scented the commercial possibilities of steam navigation, while fulton actually developed them--the one "raised" the fox, while the other was in at the death. to trace a great idea to the actual birth is apt to be obstructive to national pride. it is even said that the chinese of centuries ago understood the value of the screw-propeller--for inventing which our adoptive citizen ericsson stands in bronze on new york's battery. from the time of robert fulton, at any rate, dates the commercial usage of the steamboat. others had done the pioneering--fitch on the delaware, james rumsey on the potomac, william longstreet on the savannah, elijah ormsley on the waters of rhode island, while samuel morey had actually traveled by steamboat from new haven to new york. fulton's craft was not materially better than any of these, but it happened to be launched on ----that tide in the affairs of men which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune. but the flood of that tide did not come to fulton without long waiting and painstaking preparation. he was the son of an irish immigrant, and born in pennsylvania in 1765. to inventive genius he added rather unusual gifts for drawing and painting; for a time followed the calling of a painter of miniatures and went to london to study under benjamin west, whom all america of that day thought a genius scarcely second to raphael or titian. he was not, like poor fitch, doomed to the narrowest poverty and shut out from the society of the men of light and learning of the day, for we find him, after his london experience, a member of the family of joel barlow, then our minister to france. by this time his ambition had forsaken art for mechanics, and he was deep in plans for diving boats, submarine torpedoes, and steamboats. through various channels he succeeded in getting his plan for moving vessels with steam, before napoleon--then first consul--who ordered the minister of marine to treat with the inventor. the minister in due time suggested that 10,000 francs be spent on experiments to be made in the harbor of brest. to this napoleon assented, and sent fulton to the institute of france to be examined as to his fitness to conduct the tests. now the institute is the most learned body in all france. in 1860 one of its members wrote a book to prove that the earth does not revolve upon its axis, nor move about the sun. in 1878, when edison's phonograph was being exhibited to the eminent scientists of the institute, one rushed wrathfully down the aisle and seizing by the collar the man who manipulated the instrument, cried out, "wretch, we are not to be made dupes of by a ventriloquist!" so it is readily understandable that after being referred to the institute, fulton and his project disappeared for a long time. the learned men of the institute of france were not alone in their incredulity. in 1803 the philosophical society of rotterdam wrote to the american philosophical society of philadelphia, for information concerning the development of the steam-engine in the united states. the question was referred to benjamin h. latrobe, the most eminent engineer in america, and his report was published approvingly in the _transactions_. "a sort of mania," wrote mr. latrobe, "had indeed prevailed and not yet entirely subsided, for impelling boats by steam-engines." but his scientific hearers would at once see that there were general objections to it which could not be overcome. "these are, first, the weight of the engine and of the fuel; second, the large space it occupies; third, the tendency of its action to rack the vessel and render it leaky; fourth, the expense of maintenance; fifth, the irregularity of its motion and the motion of the water in the boiler and cistern, and of the fuel vessel in rough weather; sixth, the difficulty arising from the liability of the paddles, or oars, to break, if light, and from the weight if made strong." but the steamboat survived this scientific indictment in six counts. visions proved more real than scientific reasoning. while in the shadow of the institute's disfavor, fulton fell in with the new minister to france, robert r. livingston, and the result of this acquaintance was that america gained primacy in steam navigation, and napoleon lost the chance to get control of an invention which, by revolutionizing navigation, might have broken that british control of the sea, that in the end destroyed the napoleonic empire. livingston had long taken an intelligent interest in the possibilities of steam power, and had built and tested, on the hudson, an experimental steamboat of his own. perhaps it was this, as much as anything, which aroused the interest of thomas jefferson--to whom he owed his appointment as minister to france--for jefferson was actively interested in every sort of mechanical device, and his mind was not so scientific as to be inhospitable to new, and even, revolutionary, ideas. but livingston was not possessed by that idea which, in later years, politicians have desired us to believe especially jeffersonian. he was no foe to monopoly. indeed, before he had perfected his steamboat, he used his political influence to get from new york the concession of the _exclusive_ right to navigate her lakes and rivers by steam. the grant was only to be effective if within one year he should produce a boat of twenty tons, moved by steam. but he failed, and in 1801 went to france, where he found fulton. a partnership was formed, and it was largely through livingston's money and influence that fulton succeeded where others, earlier in the field than he, had failed. yet even so, it was not all easy sailing for him. "when i was building my first steamboat," he said, "the project was viewed by the public either with indifference, or with contempt as a visionary scheme. my friends, indeed, were civil, but were shy. they listened with patience to my explanations, but with a settled cast of incredulity upon their countenances. i felt the full force of the lamentation of the poet- truths would you teach, or save a sinking land; all fear, none aid you, and few understand. [illustration: "the loud laugh rose at my expense"] "as i had occasion to pass daily to and from the building yard while my boat was in progress, i have often loitered unknown near the idle groups of strangers gathered in little circles and heard various inquiries as to the object of this new vehicle. the language was uniformly that of scorn, or sneer, or ridicule. the loud laugh often rose at my expense; the dry jest; the wise calculation of losses and expenditures; the dull, but endless repetition of 'the fulton folly.' never did a single encouraging remark, a bright hope, or a warm wish cross my path." the boat which fulton was building while the wiseacres wagged their heads and prophesied disaster, was named "the clermont." she was 130 feet long, 18 feet wide, half-decked, and provided with a mast and sail. in the undecked part were the boiler and engine, set in masonry. the wheels were fifteen feet in diameter, with buckets four feet wide, dipping two feet into the water. it was 1806 when fulton came home to begin her construction. since his luckless experience with the french institute he had tested a steamer on the seine; failed to interest napoleon; tried, without success, to get the british government to adopt his torpedo; tried and failed again with the american government at washington. fulton's thoughts seemed to have been riveted on his torpedo; but livingston was confident of the future of the steamboat, and had had an engine built for it in england, which fulton found lying on a wharf, freight unpaid, on his return from europe. the state of new york had meantime granted the two another monopoly of steam navigation, and gave them until 1807 to prove their ability and right. the time, though brief, proved sufficient, and on the afternoon of august 7, 1807, the "clermont" began her epoch-making voyage. the distance to albany--150 miles--she traversed in thirty-two hours, and the end of the passenger sloop traffic on the hudson was begun. within a year steamboats were plying on the raritan, the delaware, and lake champlain, and the development and use of the new invention would have been more rapid than it was, save for the monopoly rights which had been granted to livingston and fulton. they had the sole right to navigate by steam, the waters of new york. well and good. but suppose the stream navigated touched both new york and new jersey. what then? would it be seriously asserted that a steamer owned by new jersey citizens could not land passengers at a new york port? fulton and livingston strove to protect their monopoly, and the two states were brought to the brink of war. in the end the courts settled the difficulty by establishing the exclusive control of navigable waters by the federal government. from the day the "clermont" breasted the tide of the hudson there was no check in the conquest of the waters by steam. up the narrowest rivers, across the most tempestuous bays, along the placid waters of long island sound, coasting along the front yard of the nation from portland to savannah the steamboats made their way, tying the young nation indissolubly together. curiously enough it was livingston's monopoly that gave the first impetus to the extension of steam navigation. a mechanic by the name of robert l. stevens, one of the first of a family distinguished in new york and new jersey, built a steamboat on the hudson. after one or two trips had proved its usefulness, the possessors of the monopoly became alarmed and began proceedings against the new rival. driven from the waters about new york, stevens took his boat around to philadelphia. thus not only did he open an entirely new field of river and inland water transportation, but the trip to philadelphia demonstrated the entire practicability of steam for use in coastwise navigation. thereafter the vessels multiplied rapidly on all american waters. fulton himself set up a shipyard, in which he built steam ferries, river and coastwise steamboats. in 1809 he associated himself with nicholas j. roosevelt, to whom credit is due for the invention of the vertical paddle-wheel, in a partnership for the purpose of putting steamboats on the great rivers of the mississippi valley, and in 1811 the "new orleans" was built and navigated by roosevelt himself, from pittsburg to the city at the mouth of the mississippi. the voyage took fourteen days, and before undertaking it, he descended the two rivers in a flatboat, to familiarize himself with the channel. the biographer of roosevelt prints an interesting letter from fulton, in which he says, "i have no pretensions to be the inventor of the steamboat. hundreds of others have tried it and failed." four years after roosevelt's voyage, the "enterprise" made for the first time in history the voyage up the mississippi and ohio rivers from new orleans to louisville, and from that era the great rivers may be said to have been fairly opened to that commerce, which in time became the greatest agency in the building up of the nation. the great lakes were next to feel the quickening influence of the new motive power, but it was left for the canadian, john hamilton, of queenston, to open this new field. the progress of steam navigation on both lakes and rivers will be more fully described in the chapters devoted to that topic. so rapidly now did the use of the steamboat increase on long island sound, on the rivers, and along the coast that the newspapers began to discuss gravely the question whether the supply of fuel would long hold out. the boats used wood exclusively--coal was then but little used--and despite the vast forests which covered the face of the land the price of wood in cities rose because of their demand. mr. mcmaster, the eminent historian, discovers that in 1825 thirteen steamers plying on the hudson burned sixteen hundred cords of wood per week. fourteen hundred cords more were used by new york ferry boats, and each trip of a sound steamer consumed sixty cords. the american who traverses the placid waters of long island sound to-day in one of the swift and splendid steamboats of the fall river or other sound lines, enjoys very different accommodations from those which in the second quarter of the last century were regarded as palatial. the luxury of that day was a simple sort at best. when competition became strong, the old fulton company, then running boats to albany, announced as a special attraction the "safety barge." this was a craft without either sails or steam, of about two hundred tons burden, and used exclusively for passengers. it boasted a spacious dining-room, ninety feet long, a deck cabin for ladies, a reading room, a promenade deck, shaded and provided with seats. one of the regular steamers of the line towed it to albany, and its passengers were assured freedom from the noise and vibration of machinery, as well as safety from possible boiler explosions--the latter rather a common peril of steamboating in those days. [illustration: "the dreadnaught"--new york and liverpool packet] it was natural that the restless mind of the american, untrammeled by traditions and impatient of convention, should turn eagerly and early to the question of crossing the ocean by steam. when the rivers had been made busy highways for puffing steamboats; when the great lakes, as turbulent as the ocean, and as vast as the mediterranean, were conquered by the new marine device; when steamships plied between new york, philadelphia, baltimore, savannah, and charleston, braving what is by far more perilous than mid-ocean, the danger of tempests on a lee shore, and the shifting sands of hatteras, there seemed to the enterprising man no reason why the passage from new york to liverpool might not be made by the same agency. the scientific authorities were all against it. curiously enough, the weight of scientific authority is always against anything new. marine architects and mathematicians proved to their own satisfaction at least that no vessel could carry enough coal to cross the atlantic, that the coal bunkers would have to be bigger than the vessel itself, in order to hold a sufficient supply for the furnaces. it is a matter of history that an eminent british scientist was engaged in delivering a lecture on this very subject in liverpool when the "savannah," the first steamship to cross the ocean, steamed into the harbor. it is fair, however, to add that the "savannah's" success did not wholly destroy the contention of the opponents of steam navigation, for she made much of the passage under sail, being fitted only with what we would call now "auxiliary steam power." this was in 1819, but so slow were the shipbuilders to progress beyond what had been done with the "savannah," that in 1835 a highly respected british scientist said in tones of authority: "as to the project which was announced in the newspapers, of making the voyage from new york to liverpool direct by steam, it was, he had no hesitation in saying, perfectly chimerical, and they might as well talk of making a voyage from new york or liverpool to the moon." nevertheless, in three years from that time transatlantic steam lines were in operation, and the doom of the grand old packets was sealed. the american who will read history free from that national prejudice which is miscalled patriotism, can not fail to be impressed by the fact that, while as a nation we have led the world in the variety and audacity of our inventions, it is nearly always some other nation that most promptly and most thoroughly utilizes the genius of our inventors. emphatically was this the case with the application of steam power to ocean steamships. americans showed the way, but englishmen set out upon it and were traveling it regularly before another american vessel followed in the wake of the "savannah." in 1838 two english steamships crossed the atlantic to new york, the "sirius" and the "great western." that was the beginning of that great fleet of british steamers which now plies up and down the seven seas and finds its poet laureate in mr. kipling. a very small beginning it was, too. the "sirius" was of 700 tons burden and 320 horse-power; the "great western" was 212 feet long, with a tonnage of 1340 and engines of 400 horse-power. the "sirius" brought seven passengers to new york, at a time when the sailing clippers were carrying from eight hundred to a thousand immigrants, and from twenty to forty cabin passengers. to those who accompanied the ship on her maiden voyage it must have seemed to justify the doubts expressed by the mathematicians concerning the practicability of designing a steamship which could carry enough coal to drive the engines all the way across the atlantic, for the luckless "sirius" exhausted her four hundred and fifty tons of coal before reaching sandy hook, and could not have made the historic passage up new york bay under steam, except for the liberal use of spars and barrels of resin which she had in cargo. her voyage from cork had occupied eighteen and a half days. the "great western," which arrived at the same time, made the run from queenstown in fifteen days. that two steamships should lie at anchor in new york bay at the same time, was enough to stir the wonder and awaken the enthusiasm of the provincial new yorkers of that day. the newspapers published editorials on the marvel, and the editor of _the courier and enquirer_, the chief maritime authority of the time, hazarded a prophecy in this cautious fashion: "what may be the ultimate fate of this excitement--whether or not the expenses of equipment and fuel will admit of the employment of these vessels in the ordinary packet service--we cannot pretend to form an opinion; but of the entire feasibility of the passage of the atlantic by steam, as far as regards safety, comfort, and dispatch, even in the roughest and most boisterous weather, the most skeptical must now cease to doubt." unfortunately for our national pride, the story of the development of the ocean steamship industry from this small beginning to its present prodigious proportions, is one in which we of the united states fill but a little space. we have, it is true, furnished the rich cargoes of grain, of cotton, and of cattle, that have made the ocean passage in one direction profitable for shipowners. we found homes for the millions of immigrants who crowded the "'tween decks" of steamers of every flag and impelled the companies to build bigger and bigger craft to carry the ever increasing throngs. and in these later days of luxury and wealth unparalleled, we have supplied the millionaires, whose demands for quarters afloat as gorgeous as a fifth avenue club have resulted in the building of floating palaces. america has supported the transatlantic lines, but almost every civilized people with a seacoast has outdone us in building the ships. for a time, indeed, it seemed that we should speedily overcome the lead that england immediately took in building steamships. her entrance upon this industry was, as we have seen, in 1838. the united states took it up about ten years later. in 1847 the ocean steam navigation company was organized in this country and secured from the government a contract to carry the mails between new york and bremen. two ships were built and regular trips made for a year or more; but when the government contract expired and was not renewed, the venture was abandoned. about the same time the owners of one of the most famous packet lines, the black ball, tried the experiment of supplementing their sailing service with a steamship, but it proved unprofitable. shortly after the new york and havre steamship company, with two vessels and a postal subsidy of $150,000, entered the field and continued operations with only moderate success until 1868. the only really notable effort of americans in the early days of steam navigation to get their share of transatlantic trade--indeed, i might almost say the most determined effort until the present time--was that made by the projectors of the collins line, and it ended in disaster, in heavy financial loss, and in bitter sorrow. e.k. collins was a new york shipping merchant, the organizer and manager of one of the most famous of the old lines of sailing packets between that port and liverpool--the dramatic line, so called from the fact that its ships were named after popular actors of the day. recognizing the fact that the sailing ship was fighting a losing fight against the new style of vessels, mr. collins interested a number of new york merchants in a distinctly american line of transatlantic ships. it was no easy task. capital was not over plenty in the american city which now boasts itself the financial center of the world, while the opportunities for its investment in enterprises longer proved and less hazardous than steamships were numerous. but a government mail subsidy of $858,000 annually promised a sound financial basis, and made the task of capitalization possible. it seems not unlikely that the vicissitudes of the line were largely the result of this subsidy, for one of its conditions was extremely onerous: namely, that the vessels making twenty-six voyages annually between new york and liverpool, should always make the passage in better time than the british cunard line, which was then in its eighth year. however, the collins line met the exaction bravely. four vessels were built, the "atlantic," "pacific," "arctic," and "baltic," and the time of the fleet for the westward passage averaged eleven days, ten hours and twenty-one minutes, while the british ships averaged twelve days, nineteen hours and twenty-six minutes--a very substantial triumph for american naval architecture. the collins liners, furthermore, were models of comfort and even of luxury for the times. they averaged a cost of $700,000 apiece, a good share of which went toward enhancing the comfort of passengers. to our english cousins these ships were at first as much of a curiosity as our vestibuled trains were a few years since. when the "atlantic" first reached liverpool in 1849, the townspeople by the thousand came down to the dock to examine a ship with a barber shop, fitted with the curious american barber chairs enabling the customer to recline while being shaved. the provision of a special deck-house for smokers, was another innovation, while the saloon, sixty-seven by twenty feet, the dining saloon sixty by twenty, the rich fittings of rosewood and satinwood, marble-topped tables, expensive upholstery, and stained-glass windows, decorated with patriotic designs, were for a long time the subject of admiring comment in the english press. old voyagers who crossed in the halcyon days of the collins line and are still taking the "atlantic ferry," agree in saying that the increase in actual comfort is not so great as might reasonably be expected. much of the increased expenditures of the companies has gone into more gorgeous decoration, vastly more of course into pushing for greater speed; but even in the early days there was a lavish table, and before the days of the steamships the packets offered such private accommodations in the of roomy staterooms as can be excelled only by the "cabins de luxe" of the modern liner. aside from the question of speed, however, it is probable that the two inventions which have added most to the passengers' comfort are the electric light and artificial refrigeration. the collins line charged from thirty to forty dollar a ton for freight, a charge which all the modern improvements and the increase in the size of vessels, has not materially lessened. in six years, however, the corporation was practically bankrupt. the high speed required by the government more than offset the generous subsidy, and misfortune seemed to pursue the ships. the "arctic" came into collision with a french steamer in 1854, and went down with two hundred and twenty-two of the two hundred and sixty-eight people on board. the "pacific" left liverpool june 23, 1856, and was never more heard of. shortly thereafter the subsidy was withdrawn, and the famous line went slowly down to oblivion. it was during the best days of the collins line that it seemed that the united states might overtake great britain in the race for supremacy on the ocean. in 1851 the total british steam shipping engaged in foreign trade was 65,921 tons. the united states only began building steamships in 1848, yet by 1851 its ocean-going steamships aggregated 62,390 tons. for four years our growth continued so that in 1855 we had 115,000 tons engaged in foreign trade. then began the retrograde movement, until in 1860--before the time of the confederate cruisers--there were; according to an official report to the national board of trade, "no ocean mail steamers away from our own coasts, anywhere on the globe, under the american flag, except, perhaps, on the route between new york and havre, where two steamships may then have been in commission, which, however, were soon afterward withdrawn. the two or three steamship companies which had been in existence in new york had either failed or abandoned the business; and the entire mail, passenger, and freight traffic between great britain and the united states, so far as this was carried on by steam, was controlled then (as it mainly is now) by british companies." and from this condition of decadence the merchant marine of the united states is just beginning to manifest signs of recovery. when steam had fairly established its place as the most effective power for ocean voyages of every duration, and through every zone and clime, improvements in the methods of harnessing it, and in the form and material of the ships that it was to drive, followed fast upon each other. as in the case of the invention of the steamboat, the public has commonly lightly awarded the credit for each invention to some belated experimenter who, walking more firmly along a road which an earlier pioneer had broken, attained the goal that his predecessor had sought in vain. so we find credit given almost universally to john ericsson, the swedish-born american, for the invention of the screw-propeller. but as early as 1770 it was suggested by john watt, and stevens, the american inventor, actually gave a practical demonstration of its efficiency in 1804. ericsson perfected it in 1836, and soon thereafter the british began building steamships with screws instead of paddle-wheels. for some reason, however, not easy now to conjecture, shipbuilders clung to the paddle-wheels for vessels making the transatlantic voyage, long after they were discarded on the shorter runs along the coasts of the british isles. it so happened, too, that the first vessel to use the screw in transatlantic voyages, was also first iron ship built. she was the "great britain," a ship of 3,000 tons, built for the great western company at bristol, england, and intended to eclipse any ship afloat. her hull was well on the way to completion when her designer chanced to see the "archimedes," the first screw steamer built, and straightway changed his plans to admit the use of the new method of propulsion so from 1842 may be dated the use of both screw propellers and iron ships. we must pass hastily over the other inventions, rapidly following each other, and all designed to make ocean travel more swift, more safe, and more comfortable, and to increase the profit of the shipowner. the compound engine, which has been so developed that in place of fulton's seven miles an hour, our ocean steamships are driven now at a speed sometimes closely approaching twenty-five miles an hour, seems already destined to give way to the turbine form of engine which, applied thus far to torpedo-boats only, has made a record of forty-four miles an hour. iron, which stood for a revolution in 1842, has itself given way to steel. and a new force, subtile, swift, and powerful, has found endless application in the body of the great ships, so that from stem to stern-post they are a network of electric wires, bearing messages, controlling the independent engines that swing the rudder, closing water-tight compartments at the first hint of danger, and making the darkest places of the great hulls as light as day at the throwing of a switch. during the period of this wonderful advance in marine architecture ship-building in the united states languished to the point of extinction. yachts for millionaires who could afford to pay heavily for the pleasure of flying the stars and stripes, ships of 2500 to 4000 tons for the coasting trade, in which no foreign-built vessel was permitted to compete, and men-of-war--very few of them before 1890--kept a few shipyards from complete obliteration. but as an industry, ship-building, which once ranked at the head of american manufactures, had sunk to a point of insignificance. the present moment (1902) seems to show the american shipping interest in the full tide of successful reëstablishment. in congress and in boards of trade men are arguing for and against subsidies, for and against the policy of permitting americans to buy ships of foreign builders if they will, and fly the american flag above them. but while these things remain subjects of discussion natural causes are taking americans again to sea. some buy great british ships, own and manage them, even although the laws of the united states compel the flying of a foreign flag. for example, the atlantic transport line is owned wholly by citizens of the united states, although at the present moment all its ships fly the british flag. two new ships are, however, being completed for this line in american shipyards, the "minnetonka" and "minnewaska," of 13,401 tons each. this line, started by americans in 1887, was the first to use the so-called bilge keels, or parallel keels along each side of the hull to prevent rolling. it now has a fleet of twenty-three vessels, with a total tonnage of about 90,000, and does a heavy passenger business despite the fact that its ships were primarily designed to carry cattle. quite as striking an illustration of the fact that capital is international, and will be invested in ships or other enterprises which promise profit quite heedless of sentimental considerations of flags, was afforded by the purchase in 1901 of the leyland line of british steamships by an american. immediately following this came the consolidation of ownership, or merger, of the principal british-american lines, in one great corporation, a majority of the stock of which is held by americans. despite their ownership on this side of the water, these ships will still fly the british flag, and a part of the contract of merger is that a british shipyard shall for ten years build all new vessels needed by the consolidated lines this situation will persist. this suggests that the actual participation of americans in the ocean-carrying trade of the world is not to be estimated by the frequency or infrequency with which the stars and stripes are to be met on the ocean. it furthermore gives some indication of the rapidity with which the american flag would reappear if the law to register only ships built in american yards were repealed. indeed, it would appear that the law protecting american ship-builders, while apparently effective for that purpose, has destroyed american shipping. our ship-building industry has attained respectable and even impressive proportions; but our shipping, wherever brought into competition with foreign ships, has vanished. one transatlantic line only, in 1902 displayed the american flag, and that line enjoyed special and unusual privileges, without which it probably could not have existed. in consideration of building two ships in american yards, this line, the international navigation company, was permitted to transfer two foreign-built ships to american registry, and a ten years' postal contract was awarded it, which guaranteed in advance the cost of construction of all the ships it was required to build. it is a fact worth noting that, while the foreign lines have been vying with each other in the construction of faster and bigger ships each year, this one has built none since its initial construction, more than a decade ago. ten years ago its american-built ships, the "new york" and the "paris," were the largest ships afloat; now there are eighteen larger in commission, and many building. besides this, there are only two american lines on the atlantic which ply to other than coastwise ports--the pacific mail, which is run in connection with the panama railway, and the admiral line, which plies between new york and the west indies. indeed, the commissioner of navigation, in his report for 1901, said: "for serious competition with foreign nations under the conditions now imposed upon ocean navigation, we are practically limited to our registered iron and steam steel vessels, which in all number 124, of 271,378 gross tons. those under 1,000 gross tons are not now commercially available for oversea trade. there remains 4 steamships, each of over 10,000 gross tons; 5 of between 5,000 and 6,000 gross tons; 2 of between 4,000 and 5,000 tons; 18 between 3000 and 4000 tons; 35 between 2000 and 3000 tons, and 33 between 1000 and 2000 tons; in all 97 steamships over 1000 tons, aggregating 260,325 gross tons." most of these are engaged in coastwise trade. the fleet of the hamburg-american line alone, among our many foreign rivals, aggregates 515,628 gross tons. however, we must bear in mind that this seemingly insignificant place held by the united states merchant marine represents only the part it holds in the international carrying trade of the world. such a country as germany must expend all its maritime energies on international trade. it has little or no river and coastwise traffic. but the united states is a little world in itself; not so very small, and of late years growing greater. our wide extended coasts on atlantic, pacific, and the mexican gulf, are bordered by rich states crowded with a people who produce and consume more per capita than any other race. from the oceans great navigable rivers, deep bays, and placid sounds, extend into the very heart of the country. the great lakes are bordered by states more populous and cities more busy and enterprising than those, which in the proudest days of rome, and carthage and venice skirted the mediterranean and the adriatic. the traffic of all these trade highways is by legislation reserved for american ships alone. on the great lakes has sprung up a merchant marine rivaling that of some of the foremost maritime peoples, and conducting a traffic that puts to shame the busiest maritime highways of europe. long island sound bears on its placid bosom steamships that are the marvel of the traveling public the world over. the hudson, the ohio, the mississippi, are all great arteries through which the life current of trade is ceaselessly flowing. a book might be written on the one subject of the part that river navigation has played in developing the interior states of this union. another could well be devoted to the history of lake navigation, which it is no overstatement to pronounce the most impressive chapter in the history of the american merchant marine. in this volume, however, but brief attention can be given to either. the figures show how honorably our whole body of shipping compares in volume to that operated by any maritime people. our total registered shipping engaged in the fisheries, coastwise, and lake traffic, and foreign trade numbered at the beginning of 1902, 24,057 vessels, with an aggregate tonnage of 5,524,218 tons. in domestic trade alone we had 4,582,683 tons, or an amount exceeding the total tonnage of germany and norway combined, or of germany and france. only england excelled us, but her lead, which in 1860 was inconsiderable, in 1901 was prodigious; the british flag flying over no less than 14,261,254 tons of shipping, more than three times our tonnage! it is proper to note that more than two-thirds of our registered tonnage is of wood. [illustration: there are building in american yards ] i have already given reasons why, in the natural course of things, this disparity between the american and the british foreign-going merchant marine will not long continue. and indeed, as this book is writing, it is apparent that its end is near. though shipyards have multiplied fast in the last five years of the nineteenth century, the first years of the new century found them all occupied up to the very limit of their capacity. yards that began, like the cramps, building united states warships and finding little other work, were soon under contract to build men-of-war for russia and japan. the interest of the people in the navy afforded a great stimulus to shipbuilding. it is told of one of the principal yards, that its promotor went to washington with a bid for naval construction in his pocket, but without either a shipyard or capital wherewith to build one. he secured a contract for two ships, and capital readily interested itself in his project. when that contract is out of the way the yard will enter the business of building merchant vessels, just as several yards, which long had their only support from naval contracts, are now doing. there were built in the year ending june 30, 1901, in american yards, 112 vessels of over 1000 tons each, or a total of 311,778. many of these were lake vessels; some were wooden ships. of modern steel steamers, built on the seaboard, there were but sixteen. at the present moment there are building in american yards, or contracted for, almost 255,325 tons of steel steamships, to be launched within a year--or 89 vessels, more than twice the output of any year in our history, and an impressive earnest for the future. nor is this rapid increase in the ship-building activity of the united states accompanied by any reduction in the wages of the american working men. their high wages, of which ship-builders complain, and in which everyone else rejoices, remain high. but it has been demonstrated to the satisfaction, even of foreign observers, that the highly-paid american labor is the most effective, and in the end the cheapest. our workingmen know how to use modern tools, to make compressed air, steam, electricity do their work at every possible point, and while the united states still ranks far below england as a ship-building center, englishmen, germans, and frenchmen are coming over here to learn how we build the ships that we do build. if it has not yet been demonstrated that we can build ships as cheaply as any other nation, we are so near the point of demonstration, that it may be said to be expected momentarily. with the cheapest iron in the world, we have at least succeeded in making steel, the raw material of the modern ship, cheaper than it can be made elsewhere, and that accomplished, our primacy in the matter of ship-building is a matter of the immediate future. a picturesque illustration of this change is afforded by the fact that in 1894 the plates of the "dirigo," the first steel square-rigged vessel built in the united states, were imported from england. in 1898 we exported to england some of the plates for the "oceanic," the largest vessel built to that time. even the glory, such as it may be, of building the biggest ship of the time is now well within the grasp of the united states. at this writing, indeed, the biggest ship is the "celtic," british built, and of 20,000 tons. but the distinction is only briefly for her, for at new london, connecticut, two ponderous iron fabrics are rising on the ways that presently shall take form as ocean steamships of 25,000 tons each, to fly the american flag, and to ply between seattle and china. these great ships afford new illustrations of more than one point already made in this chapter. to begin with they are, of course, not constructed for any individual owner. time was that the farmer with land sloping down to new london would put in his spare time building a staunch schooner of 200 tons, man her with his neighbors, and engage for himself in the world's carrying trade. it is rather different now. the northern pacific railroad directors concluded that their railroad could not be developed to its fullest earning capacity without some way of carrying to the markets of the far east the agricultural products gathered up along its line. as the tendency of the times is toward gathering all branches of a business under one control, they determined to not rely upon independent shipowners, but to build their own vessels. that meant the immediate letting of a contract for $5,000,000 worth of ship construction, and that in turn meant that there was a profit to somebody in starting an entirely new shipyard to do the work. so, suddenly, one of the sleepiest little towns in new england, groton, opposite new london, was turned into a ship-building port. the two great northern pacific ships will be launched about the time this book is published, but the yard by that time will have become a permanent addition to the ship-building enterprises of the united states. so, too, all along the atlantic coast, we find ancient shipyards where, in the very earliest colonial days, wooden vessels were built, adapting themselves to the construction of the new steel steamships. how wonderful is the contrast between the twentieth century, steel, triple-screw, 25,000-ton, electric-lighted, 25-knot steamship, and winthrop's little "blessing of the bay," or fulton's "clermont," or even the ships of the collins line--floating palaces as they were called at the time! time has made commonplace the proportions of the "great eastern," the marine marvel not only of her age, but of the forty years that succeeded her breaking-up as impracticable on account of size. she was 19,000 tons, 690 feet long, and built with both paddle-wheels and a screw. the "celtic" is 700 feet long, 20,000 tons, with twin screws. the one was too big to be commercially valuable, the other has held the record for size only for a year, being already outclassed by the northern pacific 25,000-ton monsters. that one was a failure, the other a success, is almost wholly due to the improvements in engines, which effect economy of space both in the engine-room and in the coal bunkers. it is, by the way, rather a curious illustration of the growing luxury of life, and of ocean travel, that the first voyage of this enormous ship was made as a yacht, carrying a party of pleasure-seekers, with not a pound of cargo, through the show places of the mediterranean. it will be interesting to chronicle here some of the characteristics of the most modern of ocean steamships, and to show by the use of some figures, the enormous proportions to which their business has attained. for this purpose it will be necessary to use figures drawn from the records of foreign lines, and from such vessels as the "deutschland" and the "celtic," although the purpose of this book is to tell the story of the american merchant marine. but the figures given will be approximately correct for the great american ships now building, while there are not at present in service any american passenger ships which are fairly representative of the twentieth century liner. the "celtic," for example, will carry 3,294 persons, of whom 2,859 will be passengers. that is, it could furnish comfortable accommodations, heated and lighted, with ample food for all the students in harvard university, or the university of michigan, or columbia university, or all in amherst, dartmouth, cornell, and williams combined. if stood on end she would almost attain the height of the washington monument placed on the roof of the capitol at washington. she has nine decks, and a few years ago, if converted into a shore edifice, might fairly have been reckoned in the "skyscraper" class. her speed, as she was built primarily for capacity is only about seventeen knots, and to attain that she burns about 260 tons of coal a day. the "deutschland," which holds the ocean record for speed, burns nearly 600 tons of coal a day, and with it carries through the seas only 16,000 tons as against the "celtic's" 20,000. but she is one of the modern vessels built especially to carry passengers. in her hold, huge as it is, there is room for only about 600 tons of cargo, and she seldom carries more than one-sixth of that amount. one voyage of this great ship costs about $45,000, and even at that heavy expense, she is a profit earner, so great is the volume of transatlantic travel and so ready are people to pay for speed and luxury. her coal alone costs $5,000 a trip, and the expenses of the table, laundry, etc., equal those of the most luxurious hotel. but will ever these great liners, these huge masses of steel, guided by electricity and sped by steam, build up anew the race of american sailors? who shall say now? to-day they are manned by scandinavians and officered, in the main, by the seamen of the foreign nations whose flags they float. but the american is an adaptable type. he at once attends upon changing conditions and conquers them. he turned from the sea to the railroads when that seemed to be the course of progress; he may retrace his steps now that the pendulum seems to swing the other way. and if he finds under the new regime less chance for the hardy topman, no opportunity for the shrewd trader to a hundred ports, the gates closed to the man of small capital, yet be sure he will conquer fate in some way. we have seen it in the armed branch of the seafaring profession only within a few months. when the fine old sailing frigates vanished from the seas, when the "constitution" and the "hartford" became as obsolete as the caravels of columbus, when a navy officer found that electricity and steam were more serious problems in his calling than sails and rigging, and a bluejacket could be with the best in his watch without ever having learned to furl a royal, then said everybody: "the naval profession has gone to the dogs. its romance has departed. our ships should be manned from our boiler shops, and officered from our institutions of technology. there will be no more decaturs, somerses, farraguts, cushings." and then came on the spanish war and the rush of the "oregon" around cape horn, the cool thrust of dewey's fleet into the locked waters of manila bay, the plucky fight and death of bagley at cardenas, the braving of death by hobson at santiago, and the complete destruction of cervera's fleet by schley showed that americans could fight as well in steel ships as in wooden ones. nor can we doubt that the history of the next half-century will show that the new order at sea will breed a new race of american seamen able as in the past to prove themselves masters of the deep. chapter iii an ugly feature of early seafaring--the slave trade and its promoters--part played by eminent new englanders--how the trade grew up--the pious auspices which surrounded the traffic--slave-stealing and sabbath-breaking--conditions of the trade--size of the vessels--how the captives were treated--mutinies, man-stealing, and murder--the revelations of the abolition society--efforts to break up the trade--an awful retribution--england leads the way--difficulty of enforcing the law--america's shame--the end of the evil--the last slaver. at the foot of narragansett bay, with the surges of the open ocean breaking fiercely on its eastward side, and a sheltered harbor crowded with trim pleasure craft, leading up to its rotting wharves, lies the old colonial town of newport. a holiday place it is to-day, a spot of splendor and of wealth almost without parallel in the world. from the rugged cliffs on its seaward side great granite palaces stare, many-windowed, over the atlantic, and velvet lawns slope down to the rocks. these are the homes of the people who, in the last fifty years, have brought new life and new riches to newport. but down in the old town you will occasionally come across a fine old colonial mansion, still retaining some signs of its former grandeur, while scattered about the island to the north are stately old farmhouses and homesteads that show clearly enough the existence in that quiet spot of wealth and comfort for these one hundred and fifty years. looking upon newport to-day, and finding it all so fair, it seems hard to believe that the foundation of all its wealth and prosperity rested upon the most cruel, the most execrable, the most inhuman traffic that ever was plied by degraded men--the traffic in slaves. yet in the old days the trade was far from being held either cruel inhuman--indeed, vessels often set sail for the bight of benin to swap rum for slaves, after their owners had invoked the blessing of god upon their enterprise. nor were its promoters held by the community to be degraded. indeed, some of the most eminent men in the community engaged in it, and its receipts were so considerable that as early as 1729 one-half of the impost levied on slaves imported into the colony was appropriated to pave the streets of the town and build its bridges--however, we are not informed that the streets were very well paved. it was not at newport, however, nor even in new england that the importation of slaves first began, though for reasons which i will presently show, the bulk of the traffic in them fell ultimately to new englanders. the first african slaves in america were landed by a dutch vessel at jamestown, virginia, in 1619. the last kidnapped africans were brought here probably some time in the latter part of 1860--for though the traffic was prohibited in 1807, the rigorous blockade of the ports of the confederacy during the civil war was necessary to bring it actually to an end. the amount of human misery which that frightful traffic entailed during those 240 years almost baffles the imagination. the bloody civil war which had, perhaps, its earliest cause in the landing of those twenty blacks at jamestown, was scarcely more than a fitting penalty, and there was justice in the fact that it fell on north and south alike, for if the south clung longest to slavery, it was the north--even abolition new england--which had most to do with establishing it on this continent. however, it is not with slavery, but with the slave trade we have to do. circumstances largely forced upon the new england colonies their unsavory preëminence in this sort of commerce. to begin with, their people were as we have already seen, distinctively the seafaring folk of north america. again, one of their earliest methods of earning a livelihood was in the fisheries, and that curiously enough, led directly to the trade in slaves. to sell the great quantities of fish they dragged up from the banks or nearer home, foreign markets must needs be found. england and the european countries took but little of this sort of provender, and moreover england, france, holland, and portugal had their own fishing fleets on the banks. the main markets for the new englanders then were the west india islands, the canaries, and madeira. there the people were accustomed to a fish diet and, indeed, were encouraged in it by the frequent fastdays of the roman catholic church, of which most were devout members. a voyage to the canaries with fish was commonly prolonged to the west coast of africa, where slaves were bought with rum. thence the vessel would proceed to the west indies where the slaves would be sold, a large part of the purchase price being taken in molasses, which, in its turn, was distilled into rum at home, to be used for buying more slaves--for in this traffic little of actual worth was paid for the hapless captives. fiery rum, usually adulterated and more than ever poisonous, was all the african chiefs received for their droves of human cattle. for it they sold wives and children, made bloody war and sold their captives, kidnapped and sold their human booty. nothing in the history of our people shows so strikingly the progress of man toward higher ideals, toward a clearer sense of the duties of humanity and the rightful relation of the strong toward the weak, than the changed sentiment concerning the slave trade. in its most humane form the thought of that traffic to-day fills us with horror. the stories of its worst phases seem almost incredible, and we wonder that men of american blood could have been such utter brutes. but two centuries ago the foremost men of new england engaged in the trade or profited by its fruits. peter fanueil, who-built for boston that historic hall which we call the cradle of liberty, and which in later years resounded with the anti-slavery eloquence of garrison and phillips, was a slave owner and an actual participant in the trade. the most "respectable" merchants of providence and newport were active slavers--just as some of the most respectable merchants and manufacturers of to-day make merchandise of white men, women, and children, whose slavery is none the less slavery because they are driven by the fear of starvation instead of the overseer's lash. perhaps two hundred years from now our descendants will see the criminality of our industrial system to-day, as clearly as we see the wrong in that of our forefathers. the utmost piety was observed in setting out a slave-buying expedition. the commissions were issued "by the grace of god," divine guidance was implored for the captain who was to swap fiery rum for stolen children, and prayers were not infrequently offered for long delayed or missing slavers. george dowing, a massachusetts clergyman, wrote of slavery in barbadoes: "i believe they have bought this year no less than a thousand negroes, and the more they buie, the better able they are to buie, for in a year and a half they will earne _with god's blessing_, as much as they cost." most of the slaves brought from the coast of guinea in new england vessels were deported again--sent to the southern states or to the west indies for a market. the climate and the industrial conditions of new england were alike unfavorable to the growth there of slavery, and its ports served chiefly as clearing-houses for the trade. yet there was not even among the most enlightened and leading people of the colony any moral sentiment against slavery, and from boston to new york slaves were held in small numbers and their prices quoted in the shipping lists and newspapers like any other merchandise. curiously enough, the first african slaves brought to boston were sent home again and their captors prosecuted--not wholly for stealing men, but for breaking the sabbath. it happened in this way: a boston ship, the "rainbow," in 1645, making the usual voyage to madeira with staves and salt fish, touched on the coast of guinea for a few slaves. her captain found the english slavers on the ground already, mightily discontented, for the trade was dull. it was still the time when there was a pretense of legality about the method of procuring the slaves; they were supposed to be malefactors convicted of crime, or at the very least, prisoners taken by some native king in war. in later years the native kings, animated by an ever-growing thirst for the white man's rum, declared war in order to secure captives, and employed decoys to lure young men into the commission of crime. these devices for keeping the man-market fully supplied had not at this time been invented, and the captains of the slavers, lying off a dangerous coast in the boiling heat of a tropical country, grew restive at the long delay. perhaps some of the rum they had brought to trade for slaves inflamed their own blood. at any rate, dragging ashore a small cannon called significantly enough a "murderer," they attacked a village, killed many of its people, and brought off a number of blacks, two of whom fell to the lot of the captain of the "rainbow," and were by him taken to boston. he found no profit, however, in his piratical venture, for the story coming out, he was accused in court of "murder, man-stealing, and sabbath-breaking," and his slaves were sent home. it was wholly as merchandise that the blacks were regarded. it is impossible to believe that the brutalities of the traffic could have been tolerated so long had the idea of the essential humanity of the africa been grasped by those who dealt in them. instead, they were looked upon as a superior sort of cattle, but on the long voyage across the atlantic were treated as no cattle are treated to-day in the worst "ocean tramps" in the trade. the vessels were small, many of them half the size of the lighters that ply sluggishly up and down new york harbor. sloops, schooners, brigantines, and scows of 40 or 50 tons burden, carrying crews of nine men including the captain and mates, were the customary craft in the early days of the eighteenth century. in his work on "the american slave-trade," mr. john r. spears gives the dimensions of some of these puny vessels which were so heavily freighted with human woe. the first american slaver of which we have record was the "desire," of marblehead, 120 tons. later vessels, however, were much smaller. the sloop, "welcome," had a capacity of 5000 gallons of molasses. the "fame" was 79 feet long on the keel--about a large yacht's length. in 1847, some of the captured slavers had dimensions like these: the "felicidade" 67 tons; the "maria" 30 tons; the "rio bango" 10 tons. when the trade was legal and regulated by law, the "maria" would have been permitted to carry 45 slaves--or one and one-half to each ton register. in 1847, the trade being outlawed, no regulations were observed, and this wretched little craft imprisoned 237 negroes. but even this 10-ton slaver was not the limit. mr. spears finds that open rowboats, no more than 24 feet long by 7 wide, landed as many as 35 children in brazil out of say 50 with which the voyage began. but the size of the vessels made little difference in the comfort of the slaves. greed packed the great ones equally with the small. the blacks, stowed in rows between decks, the roof barely 3 feet 10 inches above the floor on which they lay side by side, sometimes in "spoon-fashion" with from 10 to 16 inches surface-room for each, endured months of imprisonment. often they were so packed that the head of one slave would be between the thighs of another, and in this condition they would pass the long weeks which the atlantic passage under sail consumed. this, too, when the legality of the slave trade was recognized, and nothing but the dictates of greed led to overcrowding. time came when the trade was put under the ban of law and made akin to piracy. then the need for fast vessels restricted hold room and the methods of the trade attained a degree of barbarity that can not be paralleled since the days of nero. [illustration: "a favorite trick of the fleeing slaver was to throw over slaves"] shackled together "spoon-wise," as the phrase was, they suffered and sweltered through the long middle passage, dying by scores, so that often a fifth of the cargo perished during the voyage. the stories of those who took part in the effort to suppress the traffic give some idea of its frightful cruelty. the rev. pascoa grenfell hill, a chaplain in the british navy, once made a short voyage on a slaver which his ship, the "cleopatra," had captured. the vessel had a full cargo, and when the capture was effected, the negroes were all brought on deck for exercise and fresh air. the poor creatures quite understood the meaning of the sudden change in their masters, and kissed the hands and clothing of their deliverers. the ship was headed for the cape of good hope, where the slaves were to be liberated; but a squall coming on, all were ordered below again. "the night," enters mr. hill in his journal, "being intensely hot, four hundred wretched beings thus crammed into a hold twelve yards in length, seven feet in breadth, and only three and one-half feet in height, speedily began to make an effort to reissue to the open air. being thrust back and striving the more to get out, the afterhatch was forced down upon them. over the other hatchway, in the fore part of the vessel, a wooden grating was fastened. to this, the sole inlet for the air, the suffocating heat of the hold and, perhaps, panic from the strangeness of their situation, made them flock, and thus a great part of the space below was rendered useless. they crowded to the grating and clinging to it for air, completely barred its entrance. they strove to force their way through apertures in length fourteen inches and barely six inches in breadth, and in some instances succeeded. the cries, the heat, i may say without exaggeration, the smoke of their torment which ascended can be compared to nothing earthly. one of the spaniards gave warning that the consequences would be 'many deaths;' this prediction was fearfully verified, for the next morning 54 crushed and mangled corpses were brought to the gangway and thrown overboard. some were emaciated from disease, many bruised and bloody. antoine tells me that some were found strangled; their hands still grasping each others' throats." it is of a brazilian slaver that this awful tale is told, but the event itself was paralleled on more than one american ship. occasionally we encounter stories of ships destroyed by an exploding magazine, and the slaves, chained to the deck, going down with the wreck. once a slaver went ashore off jamaica, and the officers and crew speedily got out the boats and made for the beach, leaving the human cargo to perish. when dawn broke it was seen that the slaves had rid themselves of their fetters and were busily making rafts on which the women and children were put, while the men, plunging into the sea, swam alongside, and guided the rafts toward the shore. now mark what the white man, the supposed representative of civilization and christianity, did. fearing that the negroes would exhaust the store of provisions and water that had been landed, they resolved to destroy them while still in the water. as soon as the rafts came within range, those on shore opened fire with rifles and muskets with such deadly effect that between three hundred and four hundred blacks were murdered. only thirty-four saved themselves--and for what? a few weeks later they were sold in the slave mart at kingston. [illustration: dealers who came on board were themselves kidnapped] in the early days of the trade, the captains dealt with recognized chiefs along the coast of guinea, who conducted marauding expeditions into the interior to kidnap slaves. rum was the purchase price, and by skillful dilution, a competent captain was able to double the purchasing value of his cargo. the trade was not one calculated to develop the highest qualities of honor, and to swindling the captains usually added theft and murder. any negro who came near the ship to trade, or through motives of curiosity, was promptly seized and thrust below. dealers who came on board with kidnapped negroes were themselves kidnapped after the bargain was made. never was there any inquiry into the title of the seller. any slave offered was bought, though the seller had no right--even under legalized slavery--to sell. a picturesque story was told in testimony before the english house of commons. to a certain slaver lying off the windward coast a girl was brought in a canoe by a well-known black trader, who took his pay and paddled off. a few moments later another canoe with two blacks came alongside and inquired for the girl. they were permitted to see her and declared she had been kidnapped; but the slaver, not at all put out by that fact, refused to give her up. thereupon the blacks paddled swiftly off after her seller, overtook, and captured him. presently they brought him back to the deck of the ship--an article of merchandise, where he had shortly before been a merchant. "you won't buy me," cried the captive. "i a grand trading man! i bring you slaves." but no scruples entered the mind of the captain of the slaver. "if they will sell you i certainly will buy you," he answered, and soon the kidnapped kidnapper was in irons and thrust below in the noisome hold with the unhappy being he had sent there. a multitude of cases of negro slave-dealers being seized in this way, after disposing of their human cattle, are recorded. it is small wonder that torn thus from home and relatives, immured in filthy and crowded holds, ill fed, denied the two great gifts of god to man--air and water--subjected to the brutality of merciless men, and wholly ignorant of the fate in store for them, many of the slaves should kill themselves. as they had a salable value the captains employed every possible device to defeat this end--every device, that is, except kind treatment, which was beyond the comprehension of the average slaver. sometimes the slaves would try to starve themselves to death. this the captains met by torture with the cat and thumbscrews. there is a horrible story in the testimony before the english house of commons about a captain who actually whipped a nine-months-old child to death trying to force it to eat, and then brutally compelled the mother to throw the lacerated little body overboard. another captain found that his captives were killing themselves, in the belief that their spirits would return to their old home. by way of meeting this superstition, he announced that all who died in this way should have their heads cut off, so that if they did return to their african homes, it would be as headless spirits. the outcome of this threat was very different from what the captain had anticipated. when a number of the slaves were brought on deck to witness the beheading of the body of one of their comrades, they seized the occasion to leap overboard and were drowned. many sought death in this way, and as they were usually good swimmers, they actually forced themselves to drown, some persistently holding their heads under water, others raising their arms high above their heads, and in one case two who died together clung to each other so that neither could swim. every imaginable way in which death could be sought was employed by these hopeless blacks, though, indeed, the hardships of the voyage were such as to bring it often enough unsought. when the ship's hold was full the voyage was begun, while from the suffering blacks below, unused to seafaring under any circumstances, and desperately sick in their stifling quarters, there arose cries and moans as if the cover were taken off of purgatory. the imagination recoils from the thought of so much human wretchedness. the publications of some of the early anti-slavery associations tell of the inhuman conditions of the trade. in an unusually commodious ship carrying over six hundred slaves, we are told that "platforms, or wide shelves, were erected between the decks, extending so far from the side toward the middle of the vessel as to be capable of containing four additional rows of slaves, by which means the perpendicular height between each tier was, after allowing for the beams and platforms, reduced to three feet, six inches, so that they could not even sit in an erect posture, besides which in the men's apartment, instead of four rows, five were stowed by putting the head of one between the thighs of another." in another ship, "in the men's apartment the space allowed to each is six feet length by sixteen inches in breadth, the boys are each allowed five feet by fourteen inches, the women five feet, ten by sixteen inches, and the girls four feet by one foot each." "a man in his coffin has more room than one of these blacks," is the terse way in which witness after witness before the british house of commons described the miserable condition of the slaves on shipboard. an amazing feature of this detestable traffic is the smallness and often the unseaworthiness of the vessels in which it was carried on. few such picayune craft now venture outside the landlocked waters of long island sound, or beyond the capes of the delaware and chesapeake. in the early days of the eighteenth century hardy mariners put out in little craft, the size of a hudson river brick-sloop or a harbor lighter, and made the long voyage to the canaries and the african west coast, withstood the perils of a prolonged anchorage on a dangerous shore, went thence heavy laden with slaves to the west indies, and so home. to cross the atlantic was a matter of eight or ten weeks; the whole voyage would commonly take five or six months. nor did the vessels always make up in stanchness for their diminutive proportions. almost any weather-beaten old hulk was thought good enough for a slaver. captain linsday, of newport, who wrote home from aumboe, said: "i should be glad i cood come rite home with my slaves, for my vessel will not last to proceed far. we can see daylight all round her bow under deck." but he was not in any unusual plight. and not only the perils of the deep had to be encountered, but other perils, some bred of man's savagery, then more freely exhibited than now, others necessary to the execrable traffic in peaceful blacks. it as a time of constant wars and the seas swarmed with french privateers alert for fat prizes. when a slaver met a privateer the battle was sure to be a bloody one for on either side fought desperate men--one party following as a trade legalized piracy and violent theft of cargoes, the other employed in the violent theft of men and women, and the incitement of murder and rapine that their cargoes might be the fuller. there would have been but scant loss to mankind in most of these conflicts had privateer and slaver both gone to the bottom. not infrequently the slavers themselves turned pirate or privateer for the time--sometimes robbing a smaller craft of its load of slaves, sometimes actually running up the black flag and turning to piracy for a permanent calling. in addition to the ordinary risks of shipwreck or capture the slavers encountered perils peculiar to their calling. once in a while the slaves would mutiny, though such is the gentle and almost childlike nature of the african negro that this seldom occurred. the fear of it, however, was ever present to the captains engaged in the trade, and to guard against it the slaves--always the men and sometimes the women as well--were shackled together in pairs. sometimes they were even fastened to the floor of the dark and stifling hold in which they were immured for months at a time. if heavy weather compelled the closing of the hatches, or if disease set in, as it too often did, the morning would find the living shackled to the dead. in brief, to guard against insurrection the captains made the conditions of life so cruel that the slaves were fairly forced to revolt. in 1759 a case of an uprising that was happily successful was recorded. the slaver "perfect," captain potter, lay at anchor at mana with one hundred slaves aboard. the mate, second mate, the boatswain, and about half the crew were sent into the interior to buy some more slaves. noticing the reduced numbers of their jailors, the slaves determined to rise. ridding themselves of their irons, they crowded to the deck, and, all unarmed as they were, killed the captain, the surgeon, the carpenter, the cooper, and a cabin-boy. whereupon the remainder of the crew took to the boats and boarded a neighboring slaver, the "spencer." the captain of this craft prudently declined to board the "perfect," and reduce the slaves to subjection again; but he had no objection to slaughtering naked blacks at long range, so he warped his craft into position and opened fire with his guns. for about an hour this butchery was continued, and then such of the slaves as still lived, ran the schooner ashore, plundered, and burnt her. [illustration: "the rope was put around his neck"] how such insurrections were put down was told nearly a hundred years later in an official communication to secretary of state james buchanan, by united states consul george w. gordon, the story being sworn testimony before him. the case was that of the slaver "kentucky," which carried 530 slaves. an insurrection which broke out was speedily suppressed, but fearing lest the outbreak should be repeated, the captain determined to give the wretched captives an "object lesson" by punishing the ringleaders. this is how he did it: "they were ironed, or chained, two together, and when they were hung, a rope was put around their necks and they were drawn up to the yard-arm clear of the sail. this did not kill them, but only choked or strangled them. they were then shot in the breast and the bodies thrown overboard. if only one of two that were ironed together was to be hung, the rope was put around his neck and he was drawn up clear of the deck, and his leg laid across the rail and chopped off to save the irons and release him from his companion, who at the same time lifted up his leg until the other was chopped off as aforesaid, and he released. the bleeding negro was then drawn up, shot in the breast and thrown overboard. the legs of about one dozen were chopped off this way. "when the feet fell on the deck they were picked up by the crew and thrown overboard, and sometimes they shot at the body while it still hung, living, and all sorts of sport was made of the business." forty-six men and one woman were thus done to death: "when the woman was hung up and shot, the ball did not take effect, and she was thrown overboard living, and was seen to struggle some time in the water before she sunk;" and deponent further says, "that after this was over, they brought up and flogged about twenty men and six women. the flesh of some of them where they were flogged putrified, and came off, in some cases, six or eight inches in diameter, and in places half an inch thick." this was in 1839, a time when americans were very sure that for civilization, progress, humanity, and the christian virtues, they were at least on as high a plane as the most exalted peoples of the earth. infectious disease was one of the grave perils with which the slavers had to reckon. the overcrowding of the slaves, the lack of exercise and fresh air, the wretched and insufficient food, all combined to make grave, general sickness an incident of almost every voyage, and actual epidemics not infrequent. this was a peril that moved even the callous captains and their crews, for scurvy or yellow-jack developing in the hold was apt to sweep the decks clear as well. a most gruesome story appears in all the books on the slave trade, of the experience of the french slaver, "rodeur." with a cargo of 165 slaves, she was on the way to guadaloupe in 1819, when opthalmia--a virulent disease of the eyes--appeared among the blacks. it spread rapidly, though the captain, in hopes of checking its ravages, threw thirty-six negroes into the sea alive. finally it attacked the crew, and in a short time all save one man became totally blind. groping in the dark, the helpless sailors made shift to handle the ropes, while the one man still having eyesight clung to the wheel. for days, in this wretched state, they made their slow way along the deep, helpless and hopeless. at last a sail was sighted. the "rodeur's" prow is turned toward it, for there is hope, there rescue! as the stranger draws nearer, the straining eyes of the french helmsman discerns something strange and terrifying about her appearance. her rigging is loose and slovenly, her course erratic, she seems to be idly drifting, and there is no one at the wheel. a derelict, abandoned at sea, she mocks their hopes of rescue. but she is not entirely deserted, for a faint shout comes across the narrowing strip of sea and is answered from the "rodeur." the two vessels draw near. there can be no launching of boats by blind men, but the story of the stranger is soon told. she, too, is a slaver, a spaniard, the "leon," and on her, too, every soul is blind from opthalmia originating among the slaves. not even a steersman has the "leon." all light has gone out from her, and the "rodeur" sheers away, leaving her to an unknown fate, for never again is she heard from. how wonderful the fate--or the providence--that directed that upon all the broad ocean teeming with ships, engaged in honest or in criminal trade, the two that should meet must be the two on which the hand of god was laid most heavily in retribution for the suffering and the woe which white men and professed christians were bringing to the peaceful and innocent blacks of africa. it will be readily understood that the special and always menacing dangers attending the slave trade made marine insurance upon that sort of cargoes exceedingly high. twenty pounds in the hundred was the usual figure in the early days. this heavy insurance led to a new form of wholesale murder committed by the captains. the policies covered losses resulting from jettisoning, or throwing overboard the cargo; they did not insure against loss from disease. accordingly, when a slaver found his cargo infected, he would promptly throw into the sea all the ailing negroes, while still alive, in order to save the insurance. some of the south american states, where slaves were bought, levied an import duty upon blacks, and cases are on record of captains going over their cargo outside the harbor and throwing into the sea all who by disease or for other causes, were rendered unsalable--thus saving both duty and insurance. in the clearer light which illumines the subject to-day, the prolonged difficulty which attended the destruction of the slave trade seems incredible. it appears that two such powerful maritime nations as great britain and the united states had only to decree the trade criminal and it would be abandoned. but we must remember that slaves were universally regarded as property, and an attempt to interfere with the right of their owners to carry them where they would on the high seas was denounced as an interference with property rights. we see that even to-day men are very tenacious of "property rights," and the law describes them as sacred--however immoral or repugnant to common sense and common humanity they may be. so the effort to abolish the "right" of a slaver to starve, suffocate, mutilate, torture, or murder a black man in whom he had acquired a property right by the simple process of kidnapping required more than half a century to attain complete success. the first serious blow to the slave-trade fell in 1772, when an english court declared that any slave coming into england straightway became free. that closed all english ports to the slavers. two years after the american colonists, then on the threshold of the revolt against great britain, thought to put america on a like high plane, and formally resolved that they would "not purchase any slave imported after the first day of december next; after which time, we will wholly discontinue the slave-trade, and will neither be concerned in it ourselves, nor will we hire our vessels, nor sell our commodities or manufactures to those who are concerned in it." but to this praiseworthy determination the colonists were unable to live up, and in 1776, when jefferson proposed to put into the declaration of independence the charge that the british king had forced the slave-trade on the colonies, a proper sense of their own guilt made the delegates oppose it. it was in england that the first earnest effort to break up the slave-trade began. it was under the stars and stripes that the slavers longest protected their murderous traffic. for a time the effort of the british humanitarians was confined to the amelioration of the conditions of the trade, prescribing space to be given each slave, prescribing surgeons, and offering bounties to be paid captains who lost less than two per cent. of their cargoes on the voyage. it is not recorded that the bounty was often claimed. on the contrary, the horrors of what was called "the middle passage" grew with the greed of the slave captains. but the revelations of inhumanity made during the parliamentary investigation were too shocking for even the indifferent and callous public sentiment of that day. humane people saw at once that to attempt to regulate a traffic so abhorrent to every sense of humanity, was for the nation to go into partnership with murderers and manstealers, and so the demand for the absolute prohibition of the traffic gained strength from the futile attempt to regulate it. bills for its abolition failed, now in the house of lords, then in the house of commons; but in 1807 a law prohibiting all participation in the trade by british ships or subjects was passed. the united states moved very slowly. individual states under the old confederation prohibited slavery within their borders, and in some cases the slave trade; but when our forefathers came together to form that constitution under which the nation still exists, the opposition of certain southern states was so vigorous that the best which could be done was to authorize a tax on slaves of not more than ten dollars a head, and to provide that the traffic should not be prohibited before 1808. but there followed a series of acts which corrected the seeming failure of the constitutional convention. one prohibited american citizens "carrying on the slave trade from the united states to any foreign place or country." another forbade the introduction of slaves into the mississippi territory. others made it unlawful to carry slaves to states which prohibited the traffic, or to fit out ships for the foreign slave trade, or to serve on a slaver. the discussion caused by all these measures did much to build up a healthy public sentiment, and when 1808--the date set by the constitution--came round, a prohibitory law was passed, and the president was authorized to use the armed vessels of the united states to give it force and effect. notwithstanding this, however, the slave trade, though now illegal and outlawed, continued for fully half a century. slaves were still stolen on the coast of africa by new england sea captains, subjected to the pains and horrors of the middle passage, and smuggled into georgia or south carolina, to be eagerly bought by the southern planters. a congressman estimated that 20,000 blacks were thus smuggled into the united states annually. lafitte's nest of pirates at barataria was a regular slave depot; so, too, was amelia island, florida. the profit on a slave smuggled into the united states amounted to $350 or $500, and the temptation was too great for men to be restrained by fear of a law, which prescribed but light penalties. it is even matter of record that a governor of georgia resigned his office to enter the smuggling trade on a large scale. the scandal was notorious, and the rapidly growing abolition sentiment demanded that congress so amend its laws as to make manstealers at least as subject to them as other malefactors. but congress tried the politician's device of passing laws which would satisfy the abolitionists, the slave trader, and the slave owner as well. to-day the duty of the nation seems to have been so clear that we have scant patience with the paltering policy of congress and the executive that permitted half a century of profitable law-breaking. but we must remember that slaves were property, that dealing in them was immensely profitable, and that while new england wanted this profit the south wanted the blacks. macaulay said that if any considerable financial interest could be served by denying the attraction of gravitation, there would be a very vigorous attack on that great physical truth. and so, as there were many financial interests concerned in protecting slavery, every effort to effectually abolish the trade was met by an outcry and by shrewd political opposition. the slaves were better off in the united states than at home, congress was assured; they had the blessings of christianity; were freed from the endless wars and perils of the african jungle. moreover, they were needed to develop the south, while in the trade, the hardy and daring sailors were trained, who in time would make the american navy the great power of the deep. political chicanery in congress reinforced the clamor from without, and though act after act for the destruction of the traffic was passed, none proved to be enforcible--in each was what the politicians of a later day called a "little joker," making it ineffective. but in 1820 a law was passed declaring slave-trading piracy, and punishable with death. so congress had done its duty at last, but it was long years before the executive rightly enforced the law. it is needless to go into the details of the long series of acts of parliament and of congress, treaties, conventions, and naval regulations, which gradually made the outlawry of the slaver on the ocean complete. in the humane work england took the lead, sacrificing the flourishing liverpool slave-trade with all its allied interests; sacrificing, too, the immediate prosperity of its west indian colonies, whose plantations were tilled exclusively with slave labor, and even paying heavy cash indemnity to spain to secure her acquiescence. unhappily, the united states was as laggard as england was active. indeed, a curious manifestation of national pride made the american flag the slaver's badge of immunity, for the government stubbornly--and properly--refused to grant to british cruisers the right to search vessels under our flag, and as there were few or no american men-of-war cruising on the african coast, the slaver under the stars and stripes was virtually immune from capture. in 1842 a treaty with great britain bound us to keep a considerable squadron on that coast, and thereafter there was at least some show of american hostility to the infamous traffic. the vitality of the traffic in the face of growing international hostility is to be explained by its increasing profits. the effect of the laws passed against it was to make slaves cheaper on the coast of africa and dearer at the markets in america. a slave that cost $20 would bring $500 in georgia. a ship carrying 500 would bring its owners $240,000, and there were plenty of men willing to risk the penalties of piracy for a share of such prodigious profits. moreover, the seas swarmed then with adventurous sailors--mostly of american birth--to whom the very fact that slaving was outlawed made it more attractive. the years of european war had bred up among new englanders a daring race of privateersmen--their vocation had long been piracy in all but name, a fact which in these later days the maritime nations recognize by trying to abolish privateering by international agreement. when the wars of the early years of the nineteenth century ended the privateersmen looked about for some seafaring enterprise which promised profit. a few became pirates, more went into the slave-trade. men of this type were not merely willing to risk their lives in a criminal calling, but were quite as ready to fight for their property as to try to save it by flight. the slavers soon began to carry heavy guns, and with desperate crews were no mean antagonists for a man-of-war. many of the vessels that had been built for privateers were in the trade, ready to fight a cruiser or rob a smaller slaver, as chance offered. we read of some carrying as many as twenty guns, and in that sea classic, "tom cringle's log," there is a story--obviously founded on fact--of a fight between a british sloop-of-war and a slaver that gives a vivid idea of the desperation with which the outlaws could fight. but sometimes the odds were hopeless, and the slaver could not hope to escape by force of arms or by flight. then the sternness of the law, together with a foolish rule concerning the evidence necessary to convict, resulted in the murder of the slaves, not by ones or twos, but by scores, and even hundreds, at a time. for it was the unwise ruling of the courts that actual presence of slaves on a captured ship was necessary to prove that she was engaged in the unlawful trade. her hold might reek with the odor of the imprisoned blacks, her decks show unmistakable signs of their recent presence, leg-irons and manacles might bear dumb testimony to the purpose of her voyage, informers in the crew might even betray the captain's secret; but if the boarders from the man-of-war found no negroes on the ship, she went free. what was the natural result? when a slaver, chased by a cruiser, found that capture was certain, her cargo of slaves was thrown overboard. the cruiser in the distance might detect the frightful odor that told unmistakably of a slave-ship. her officers might hear the screams of the unhappy blacks being flung into the sea. they might even see the bodies floating in the slaver's wake; but if, on boarding the suspected craft, they found her without a single captive, they could do nothing. this was the law for many years, and because of it thousands of slaves met a cruel death as the direct result of the effort to save them from slavery. many stories are told of these wholesale drownings. the captain of the british cruiser "black joke" reports of a case in which he was pursuing two slave ships: "when chased by the tenders both put back, made all sail up the river, and ran on shore. during the chase they were seen from our vessels to throw the slaves overboard by twos, shackled together by the ankles, and left in this manner to sink or swim as best they could. men, women, and children were seen in great numbers struggling in the water by everyone on board the two tenders, and, dreadful to relate, upward of 150 of these wretched creatures perished in this way." in this case, the slavers did not escape conviction, though the only penalty inflicted was the seizure of their vessels. the pursuers rescued some of the drowning negroes, who were able to testify that they had been on the suspected ship, and condemnation followed. the captain of the slaver "brillante" took no chance of such a disaster. caught by four cruisers in a dead calm, hidden from his enemy by the night, but with no chance of escaping before dawn, this man-stealer set about planning murder on a plan so large and with such system as perhaps has not been equaled since caligula. first he had his heaviest anchor so swung that cutting a rope would drop it. then the chain cable was stretched about the ship, outside the rail, and held up by light bits of rope, that would give way at any stout pull. then the slaves--600 in all--were brought up from below, open-eyed, whispering, wondering what new act in the pitiful drama of their lives this midnight summons portended. with blows and curses the sailors ranged them along the rail and bound them to the chain cable. the anchor was cut loose, plunging into the sea it carried the cable and the shackled slaves with it to the bottom. the men on the approaching man-of-war's boats, heard a great wail of many voices, a rumble, a splash, then silence, and when they reached the ship its captain politely showed them that there were no slaves aboard, and laughed at their comments on the obvious signs of the recent presence of the blacks. [illustration: "bound them to the chain cable"] a favorite trick of the slaver, fleeing from a man-of-war, was to throw over slaves a few at a time in the hope that the humanity of the pursuers would impel them to stop and rescue the struggling negroes, thus giving the slave-ship a better chance of escape. sometimes these hapless blacks thus thrown out, as legend has it siberian peasants sometimes throw out their children as ransom to pursuing wolves, were furnished with spars or barrels to keep them afloat until the pursuer should come up; and occasionally they were even set adrift by boat-loads. it was hard on the men of the navy to steel their hearts to the cries of these castaways as the ship sped by them; but if the great evil was to be broken up it could not be by rescuing here and there a slave, but by capturing and punishing the traders. many officers of our navy have left on record their abhorrence of the service they were thus engaged in, but at the same time expressed their conviction that it was doing the work of humanity. they were obliged to witness such human suffering as might well move the stoutest human heart. at times they were even forced to seem as merciless to the blacks as the slave-traders themselves; but in the end their work, like the merciful cruelty of the surgeon, made for good. when a slaver was overhauled after so swift a chase that her master had no opportunity to get rid of his damning cargo, the boarding officers saw sights that scarce inferno itself could equal. to look into her hold, filled with naked, writhing, screaming, struggling negroes was a sight that one could see once and never forget. the effluvium that arose polluted even the fresh air of the ocean, and burdened the breeze for miles to windward. the first duty of the boarding officer was to secure the officers of the craft with their papers. not infrequently such vessels would be provided with two captains and two sets of papers, to be used according to the nationality of the warship that might make the capture; but the men of all navies cruising on the slave coast came in time to be expert in detecting such impostures. the crew once under guard, the first task was to alleviate in some degree the sufferings of the slaves. but this was no easy task, for the overcrowded vessel could not be enlarged, and its burden could in no way be decreased in mid-ocean. even if near the coast of africa, the negroes could not be released by the simple process of landing them at the nearest point, for the land was filled with savage tribes, the captives were commonly from the interior, and would merely have been murdered or sold anew into slavery, had they been thus abandoned. in time the custom grew up of taking them to liberia, the free negro state established in africa under the protection of the united states. but it can hardly be said that much advantage resulted to the individual negroes rescued by even this method, for the liberians were not hospitable, slave traders camped upon the borders of their state, and it was not uncommon for a freed slave to find himself in a very few weeks back again in the noisome hold of the slaver. even under the humane care of the navy officers who were put in command of captured slavers the human cattle suffered grievously. brought on deck at early dawn, they so crowded the ships that it was almost impossible for the sailors to perform the tasks of navigation. one officer, who was put in charge of a slaver that carried 700 slaves, writes: "they filled the waist and gangways in a fearful jam, for there were over 700 men, women, boys, and young girls. not even a waistcloth can be permitted among slaves on board ship, since clothing even so slight would breed disease. to ward off death, ever at work on a slave ship, i ordered that at daylight the negroes should be taken in squads of twenty or more, and given a salt-water bath by the hose-pipe of the pumps. this brought renewed life after their fearful nights on the slave deck.... no one who has never seen a slave deck can form an idea of its horrors. imagine a deck about 20 feet wide, and perhaps 120 feet long, and 5 feet high. imagine this to be the place of abode and sleep during long, hot, healthless nights of 720 human beings! at sundown, when they were carried below, trained slaves received the poor wretches one by one, and laying each creature on his side in the wings, packed the next against him, and the next, and the next, and so on, till like so many spoons packed away they fitted into each other a living mass. just as they were packed so must they remain, for the pressure prevented any movement or the turning of hand or foot, until the next morning, when from their terrible night of horror they were brought on deck once more, weak and worn and sick." then, after all had come up and been splashed with salt water from the pumps, men went below to bring up the dead. there was never a morning search of this sort that was fruitless. the stench, the suffocation, the confinement, oftentimes the violence of a neighbor, brought to every dawn its tale, of corpses, and with scant gentleness all were brought up and thrown over the side to the waiting sharks. the officer who had this experience writes also that it was thirty days after capturing the slaver before he could land his helpless charges. no great moral evil can long continue when the attention of men has been called to it, and when their consciences, benumbed by habit, have been aroused to appreciation of the fact that it is an evil. to be sure, we, with the accumulated knowledge of our ancestors and our minds filled with a horror which their teachings instilled, sometimes think that they were slow to awaken to the enormity of some evils they tolerated. so perhaps our grandchildren may wonder that we endured, and even defended, present-day conditions, which to them will appear indefensible. and so looking back on the long continuance of the slave-trade, we wonder that it could have made so pertinacious a fight for life. we marvel, too, at the character of some of the men engaged in it in its earlier and more lawful days, forgetting that their minds had not been opened, that they regarded the negro as we regard a beeve. if in some future super-refined state men should come to abstain from all animal food, perhaps the history of the chicago stock-yards will be as appalling as is that of the bight of benin to-day, and that the name of armour should be given to a great industrial school will seem as curious as to us it is inexplicable that the founder of fanueil hall should have dealt in human flesh. it is, however, a chapter in the story of the american merchant sailor upon which none will wish to linger, and yet which can not be ignored. in prosecuting the search for slaves and their markets he showed the qualities of daring, of fine seamanship, of pertinacity, which have characterized him in all his undertakings; but the brutality, the greed, the inhumanity inseparable from the slave-trade make the participation of americans in it something not pleasant to enlarge upon. it was, as i have said, not until the days of the civil war blockade that the traffic was wholly destroyed. as late as 1860 the yacht "wanderer," flying the new york yacht club's flag, owned by a club member, and sailing under the auspices of a member of one of the foremost families of the south, made several trips, and profitable ones, as a slaver. no armed vessel thought to overhaul a trim yacht, flying a private flag, and on her first trip her officers actually entertained at dinner the officers of a british cruiser watching for slavers on the african coast. but her time came, and when in 1860 the slaver, nathaniel gordon, a citizen of portland, maine, was actually hanged as a pirate, the death-blow of the slave-trade was struck. thereafter the end came swiftly. **transcriber's note: page 91: changed preeminance to preëminence chapter iv the whaling industry--its early development in new england--known to the ancients--shore whaling--beginnings of the deep-sea fisheries--the prizes of whaling--piety of its early promoters--the right whale and the cachalot--a flurry--some fighting whales--the "essex" and the "ann alexander"--types of whalers--decadence of the industry--effect of our national wars--the embargo--some stories of whaling life. in the old "new england primer," on which the growing minds of yankee infants in the early days of the eighteenth century were regaled, appears a clumsy woodcut of a spouting whale, with these lines of excellent piety but doubtful rhyme: whales in the sea their lord obey. it is significant of the part which the whale then played in domestic economy that his familiar bulk should be utilized to "point a moral and adorn a tale" in the most elementary of books for the instruction of children. and indeed by the time the "new england primer" was published, with its quaint lettering and rude illustrations, the whale fishery had come to be one of the chief occupations of the seafaring men of the north atlantic states. the pursuit of this "royal fish"--as the ancient chroniclers call him in contented ignorance of the fact that he is not a fish at all--had not, indeed, originated in new england, but had been practised by all maritime peoples of whom history has knowledge, while the researches of archeologists have shown that prehistoric peoples were accustomed to chase the gigantic cetacean for his blubber, his oil, and his bone. the american indians, in their frail canoes, the esquimaux, in their crank kayaks, braved the fury of this aquatic monster, whose size was to that of one of his enemies as the bulk of a battle-ship is to that of a pigmy torpedo launch. but the whale fishery in vessels fitted for cruises of moderate length had its origin in europe, where the basques during the middle ages fairly drove the animals from the bay of biscay, which had long swarmed with them. not a prolific breeder, the whales soon showed the effect of europe's eagerness for oil, whalebone and ambergris, and by the beginning of the sixteenth century the industry was on the verge of extinction. then began that search for a sea passage to india north of the continents of europe and america, which i have described in another chapter. the passage was not discovered, but in the icy waters great schools of right whales were found, and the chase of the "royal fish" took on new vigor. of course there was effort on the part of one nation to acquire by violence a monopoly of this profitable business, and the dutch, who have done much in the cause of liberty, defeated the british in a naval battle at the edge of the ice before the principle of the freedom of the fisheries was accepted. to-day science has discovered substitutes for almost all of worth that the whales once supplied, and the substitutes are in the main marked improvements on the original. but in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the clear whale oil for illuminating purposes, the tough and supple whalebone, the spermaceti which filled the great case in the sperm-whale's head, the precious ambergris--prized even among the early hebrews, and chronicled in the scriptures as a thing of great price--were prizes, in pursuit of which men braved every terror of the deep, threaded the ice-floes of the arctic, fought against the currents about cape horn, and steered to every corner of the seven seas the small, stout brigs and barks of new england make. the whale came to the new englander long before the new englanders went after him. in the earliest colonial days the carcasses of whales were frequently found stranded on the beaches of cape cod and long island. old colonial records are full of the lawsuits growing out of these pieces of treasure-trove, the finder, the owner of the land where the gigantic carrion lay stranded, and the colony all claiming ownership, or at least shares. by 1650 all the northern colonies had begun to pursue the business of shore whaling to some extent. crews were organized, boats kept in readiness on the beach, and whenever a whale was sighted they would put off with harpoons and lances after the huge game, which, when slain, would be towed ashore, and there cut up and tried out, to the accompaniment of a prodigious clacking of gulls and a widely diffused bad smell. this method of whaling is still followed at amagansett and southampton, on the shore of long island, though the growing scarcity of whales makes catches infrequent. in the colonial days, however, it was a source of profit assiduously cultivated by coastwise communities, and both on long island and cape cod citizens were officially enjoined to watch for whales off shore. whales were then seen daily in new york harbor, and in 1669 one samuel maverick recorded in a letter that thirteen whales had been taken along the south shore during the winter, and twenty in the spring. little by little the boat voyages after the leviathans extended further into the sea as the industry grew and the game became scarce and shy. the people of cape cod were the first to begin the fishery, and earliest perfected the art of "saving" the whale--that is, of securing all of value in the carcass. but the people of the little island of nantucket brought the industry to its highest development, and spread most widely the fame of the american whaleman. indeed, a nantucket whaler laden with oil was the first vessel flying the stars and stripes that entered a british port. it is of a sailor on this craft that a patriotic anecdote, now almost classic, is told. he was unhappily deformed, and while passing along a liverpool street was greeted by a british tar with a blow on his "humpback" and the salutation: "hello, jack! what you got there?" "bunker hill, d----n ye!" responded the yankee. "think you can climb it?" far out at sea, swept ever by the atlantic gales, a mere sand-bank, with scant surface soil to support vegetation, this island soon proved to its settlers its unfitness to maintain an agricultural people. there is a legend that an islander, weary perhaps with the effort of trying to wrest a livelihood from the unwilling soil, looked from a hilltop at the whales tumbling and spouting in the ocean. "there," he said, "is a green pasture where our children's grandchildren will go for bread." whether the prophecy was made or not, the event occurred, for before the revolution the american whaling fleet numbered 360 vessels, and in the banner year of the industry, 1846, 735 ships engaged in it, the major part of the fleet hailing from nantucket. the cruises at first were toward greenland after the so-called right whales, a variety of the cetaceans which has an added commercial value because of the baleen, or whalebone, which hangs in great strips from the roof of its mouth to its lower jaw, forming a sort of screen or sieve by which it sifts its food out of prodigious mouthfuls of sea water. this most enormous of known living creatures feeds upon very small shell-fish, swarm in the waters it frequents. opening wide its colossal mouth, a cavity often more than fifteen feet in length, and so deep from upper to lower jaw that the flexible sheets of whalebone, sometimes ten feet long, hang straight without touching its floor, it takes a great gulp of water. then the cavernous jaws slowly close, expelling the water through the whalebone sieve, somewhat as a chinese laundryman sprinkles clothes, and the small marine animals which go to feed that prodigious bulk are caught in the strainer. the right whale is from 45 to 60 feet long in its maturity, and will yield about 15 tons of oil and 1500 weight of whalebone, though individuals have been known to give double this amount. most of the vessels which put out of nantucket and new bedford, in the earliest days of the industry, after whales of this sort, were not fitted with kettles and furnaces for trying out the oil at the time of the catch, as was always the custom in the sperm-whale fishery. their prey was near at hand, their voyages comparatively short. so the fat, dripping, reeking blubber was crammed into casks, or some cases merely thrown into the ship's hold, just as it was cut from the carcass, and so brought back weeks later to the home port--a shipload of malodorous putrefaction. old sailors who have cruised with cargoes of cattle, of green hides, and of guano, say that nothing that ever offended the olfactories of man equals the stench of a right-whaler on her homeward voyage. scarcely even could the slave-ships compare with it. brought ashore, this noisome mass was boiled in huge kettles, and the resulting oil sent to lighten the night in all civilized lands. england was a good customer of the colonies, and boston shipowners did a thriving trade with oil from new bedford or nantucket to london. the sloops and ketches engaged in this commerce brought back, as an old letter of directions from shipowner to skipper shows, "course wicker flasketts, allom, copress, drum rims, head snares, shod shovells, window-glass." the trade was conducted with the same piety that we find manifested in the direction of slave-ships and privateers. in order that the oil may fetch a good price, and the voyage be speedy, the captain is commended to god, and "that hee may please to take the conduct of you, we pray you look carefully that hee bee worshipped dayly in yor shippe, his sabbaths sanctifiede, and all sinne and prophainesse let bee surpressed." in the revolution the fisheries suffered severely from the british cruisers, and when, after peace was declared, the whalemen began coming back from the privateers, in which they had sought service, and the wharves of nantucket, new bedford, and new london began again to show signs of life, the americans were confronted by the closing of their english markets. "the whale fisheries and the newfoundland fisheries were the nurseries of british seamen," said the british ministry to john adams, who went to london to remonstrate. "if we let americans bring oil to london, and sell fish to our west india colonies, the british marine will decline." for a long time, therefore, the whalers had to look elsewhere than to england for a market. nevertheless the trade grew. new bedford, which by the middle of the nineteenth century held three-fourths of the business, took it up with great vigor. for a time massachusetts gave bounties to encourage the industry, but it was soon strong enough to dispense with them. by 1789 the whalers found their way to the pacific--destined in later years to be their chief fishing-ground. in that year the total whaling tonnage of massachusetts was 10,210, with 1611 men and an annual product of 7880 barrels sperm and 13,130 barrels whale oil. fifteen years earlier--before the war--the figures were thrice as great. [illustration: "sending boat and men flying into the air"] before this period, however, whaling had taken on a new form. deep-sea whaling, as it was called, to distinguish it from the shore fisheries, had begun long ago. capt. christopher hursey, a stout nantucket whaleman, cruising about after right whales, ran into a stiff northwest gale and was carried far out to sea. he struck a school of sperm-whales, killed one, and brought blubber home. it was not a new discovery, for the sperm-whale or cachalot, had been known for years, but the great numbers of right whales and the ease with which they were taken, had made pursuit of this nobler game uncommon. but now the fact, growing yearly more apparent, that right whales were being driven to more inaccessible haunts, made whalers turn readily to this new prey. moreover, the sperm-whale had in him qualities of value that made him a richer prize than his greenland cousin. true, he lacked the useful bone. his feeding habits did not necessitate a sieve, for, as beseems a giant, he devoured stout victuals, pieces of great squids--the fabled devil-fish--as big as a man's body being found in his stomach. such a diet develops his fighting qualities, and while the right whale usually takes the steel sullenly, and dies like an overgrown seal, the cachalot fights fiercely, now diving with such a rush that he has been known to break his jaw by the fury with which he strikes the bottom at the depth of 200 fathoms; now raising his enormous bulk in air, to fall with an all-obliterating crash upon the boat which holds his tormentors, or sending boat and men flying into the air with a furious blow of his gristly flukes, or turning on his back and crunching his assailants between his cavernous jaws. descriptions of the dying flurry of the sperm-whale are plentiful in whaling literature, many of the best of them being in that ideal whaleman's log "the cruise of the cachalot," by frank t. bullen. i quote one of these: "suddenly the mate gave a howl: 'starn all--starn all! oh, starn!' and the oars bent like canes as we obeyed--there was an upheaval of the sea just ahead; then slowly, majestically, the vast body of our foe rose into the air. up, up it went while my heart stood still, until the whole of that immense creature hung on high, apparently motionless, and then fell--a hundred tons of solid flesh--back into the sea. on either side of that mountainous mass the waters rose in shining towers of snowy foam, which fell in their turn, whirling and eddying around us as we tossed and fell like a chip in a whirlpool. blinded by the flying spray, baling for very life to free the boat from the water, with which she was nearly full, it was some minutes before i was able to decide whether we were still uninjured or not. then i saw, at a little distance, the whale lying quietly. as i looked he spouted and the vapor was red with his blood. 'starn all!' again cried our chief, and we retreated to a considerable distance. the old warrior's practised eye had detected the coming climax of our efforts, the dying agony, or 'flurry,' of the great mammal. turning upon his side, he began to move in a circular direction, slowly at first, then faster and faster, until he was rushing round at tremendous speed, his great head raised quite out of water at times, slashing his enormous jaws. torrents of blood poured from his spout-hole, accompanied by hoarse bellowings, as of some gigantic bull, but really caused by the laboring breath trying to pass through the clogged air-passages. the utmost caution and rapidity of manipulation of the boat was necessary to avoid his maddened rush, but this gigantic energy was short-lived. in a few minutes he subsided slowly in death, his mighty body reclined on one side, the fin uppermost waving limply as he rolled to the swell, while the small waves broke gently over the carcass in a low, monotonous surf, intensifying the profound silence that had succeeded the tumult of our conflict with the late monarch of the deep." [illustration: "suddenly the mate gave a howl--'starn all!'"] not infrequently the sperm-whale, breaking loose from the harpoon, would ignore the boats and make war upon his chief enemy--the ship. the history of the whale fishery is full of such occurrences. the ship "essex," of nantucket, was attacked and sunk by a whale, which planned its campaign of destruction as though guided by human intelligence. he was first seen at a distance of several hundred yards, coming full speed for the ship. diving, he rose again to the surface about a ship's length away, and then surged forward on the surface, striking the vessel just forward of the fore-chains. "the ship brought up as suddenly and violently as if she had struck a rock," said the mate afterward, "and trembled for few seconds like a leaf." then she began to settle, but not fast enough to satisfy the ire of the whale. circling around, he doubled his speed, and bore down upon the "essex" again. this time his head fairly stove in the bows, and the ship sank so fast that the men were barely able to provision and launch the boats. curiously enough, the monster that had thus destroyed a stout ship paid no attention whatsoever to the little boats, which would have been like nutshells before his bulk and power. but many of the men who thus escaped only went to a fate more terrible than to have gone down with their stout ship. adrift on a trackless sea, 1000 miles from land, in open boats, with scant provision of food or water, they faced a frightful ordeal. after twenty-eight days they found an island, but it proved a desert. after leaving it the boats became separated--one being never again heard of. in the others men died fast, and at last the living were driven by hunger actually to eat the dead. out of the captain's boat two only were rescued; out of the mate's, three. in all twelve men were sacrificed to the whale's rage. mere lust for combat seemed to animate this whale, for he had not been pursued by the men of the "essex," though perhaps in some earlier meeting with men he had felt the sting of the harpoon and the searching thrust of the lance. so great is the vitality of the cachalot that it not infrequently breaks away from its pursuers, and with two or three harpoon-heads in its body lives to a ripe, if not a placid, old age. the whale that sunk the new bedford ship "ann alexander" was one of these fighting veterans. with a harpoon deep in his side he turned and deliberately ran over and sunk the boat that was fast to him; then with equal deliberation sent a second boat to the bottom. this was before noon, and occurred about six miles from the ship, which bore down as fast as could be to pick up the struggling men. the whale, apparently contented with his escape, made off. but about sunset captain delois, iron in hand, watching from the knight-heads of the "ann alexander" for other whales to repair his ill-luck, saw the redoubtable fighter not far away, swimming at about a speed of five knots. at the same time the whale spied the ship. increasing his speed to fifteen knots, he bore down upon her, and with the full force of his more than 100 tons bulk struck her "a terrible blow about two feet from the keel and just abreast of the foremast, breaking a large hole in her bottom, through which the water poured in a rushing stream." the crew had scarce time to get out the boats, with one day's provisions, but were happily picked up by a passing vessel two days later. the whale itself met retribution five months later, when it was taken by another american ship. two of the "ann alexander's" harpoons were in him, his head bore deep scars, and in it were imbedded pieces of the ill-fated ship's timbers. instances of the combativeness of the sperm-whale are not confined to the records of the whale fishery. even as i write i find in a current san francisco newspaper the story of the pilot-boat "bonita," sunk near the farallon islands by a whale that attacked her out of sheer wantonness and lust for fight. the "bonita" was lying hove-to, lazily riding the swells, when in the dark--it was 10 o'clock at night--there came a prodigious shock, that threw all standing to the deck and made the pots and pans of the cook's galley jingle like a chime out of tune. from the deck the prodigious black bulk of a whale, about eighty feet long, could be made out, lying lazily half out of water near the vessel. the timbers of the "bonita" must have been crushed by his impact, for she began to fill, and soon sank. in this case the disaster was probably not due to any rage or malicious intent on the part of the whale. indeed, in the days when the ocean was more densely populated with these huge animals, collision with a whale was a well-recognized maritime peril. how many of the stout vessels against whose names on the shipping list stands the fatal word "missing," came to their ends in this way can never be known; but maritime annals are full of the reports of captains who ran "bows on" into a mysterious reef where the chart showed no obstruction, but which proved to be a whale, reddening the sea with his blood, and sending the ship--not less sorely wounded--into some neighboring port to refit. the tools with which the business of hunting the whale is pursued are simple, even rude. steam, it is true, has succeeded to sails, and explosives have displaced the sinewy arm of the harpooner for launching the deadly shafts; but in the main the pursuit of the monsters is conducted now as it was sixty years ago, when to command a whaler was the dearest ambition of a new england coastboy. the vessels were usually brigs or barks, occasionally schooners, ranging from 100 to 500 tons. they had a characteristic architecture, due in part to the subordination of speed to carrying capacity, and further to the specially heavy timbering about the bows to withstand the crushing of the arctic ice-pack. the bow was scarce distinguishable from the stern by its lines, and the masts stuck up straight, without that rake, which adds so much to the trim appearance of a clipper. three peculiarities chiefly distinguished the whalers from other ships of the same general character. at the main royal-mast head was fixed the "crow's nest"--in some vessels a heavy barrel lashed to the mast, in others merely a small platform laid on the cross-trees, with two hoops fixed to the mast above, within which the lookout could stand in safety. on the deck, amidships, stood the "try-works," brick furnaces, holding two or three great kettles, in which the blubber was reduced to odorless oil. along each rail were heavy, clumsy wooden cranes, or davits, from which hung the whale-boats--never less than five, sometimes more, while still others were lashed to the deck, for boats were the whale's sport and playthings, and seldom was a big "fish" made fast that there was not work for the ship's carpenter. the whale-boat, evolved from the needs of this fishery, is one of the most perfect pieces of marine architecture afloat--a true adaptation of means to an end. it is clinker-built, about 27 feet long, by 6 feet beam, with a depth of about 2 feet 6 inches; sharp at both ends and clean-sided as a mackerel. each boat carried five oarsmen, who wielded oars of from nine to sixteen feet in length, while the mate steers with a prodigious oar ten feet long. the bow oarsman is the harpooner, but when he has made fast to the whale he goes aft and takes the mate's place at the steering oar, while the latter goes forward with the lances to deal the final murderous strokes. this curious and dangerous change of position in the boat, often with a heavy sea running, and with a 100-ton whale tugging at the tug-line seems to have grown out of nothing more sensible than the insistence of mates on recognition of their rank. but a whale-boat is not the only place where a spill is threatened because some one in power insists on doing something at once useless and dangerous. the whale-boat also carried a stout mast, rigging two sprit sails. the mast was instantly unshipped when the whale was struck. the american boats also carried centerboards, lifting into a framework extending through the center of the craft, but the english whalemen omitted these appendages. a rudder was hung over the side, for use in emergencies. into this boat were packed, with the utmost care and system, two line-tubs, each holding from 100 to 200 fathoms of fine manila rope, one and one-half inches round, and of a texture like yellow silk; three harpoons, wood and iron, measuring about eight feet over all, and weighing about ten pounds; three lances of the finest steel, with wooden handles, in all about eight feet long; a keg of drinking water and one of biscuits; a bucket and piggin for bailing, a small spade, knives, axes, and a shoulder bomb-gun. it can be understood easily that six men, maneuvering in so crowded a boat, with a huge whale flouncing about within a few feet, a line whizzing down the center, to be caught in which meant instant death, and the sea often running high, had need to keep their wits about them. harpoons and lances are kept ground to a razor edge, and, propelled by the vigorous muscles of brawny whalemen, often sunk out of sight through the papery skin and soft blubber of the whale. beyond these primitive appliances the whale fishery never progressed very far. it is true that in later days a shoulder-gun hurled the harpoon, explosive bombs replaced the lances, the ships were in some cases fitted with auxiliary steam-power, and in a few infrequent instances steam launches were employed for whale-boats. but progress was not general. the old-fashioned whaling tubs kept the seas, while the growing scarcity of the whales and the blow to the demand for oil dealt by the discovery of petroleum, checked the development of the industry. now the rows of whalers rotting at new bedford's wharves, and the somnolence of nantucket, tell of its virtual demise. these two towns were built upon the prosperity of the whale fishery. when it languished their fortunes sunk, never to rise to their earlier heights, though cotton-spinning came to occupy the attention of the people of new bedford, while nantucket found a placid prosperity in entertaining summer boarders. and even during the years when whales were plentiful, and their oil still in good demand, there came periods of interruption to the trade and poverty to its followers. the revolution first closed the seas to american ships for seven long years, and at its close the whalers found their best market--england--still shut against them. moreover, the high seas during the closing years of the eighteenth and the opening of the nineteenth centuries were not as to-day, when a pirate is as scarce a beast of prey as a highwayman on hounslow heath. the napoleonic wars had broken down men's natural sense of order and of right, and the seas swarmed with privateers, who on occasion were ready enough to turn pirates. many whalers fell a prey to these marauders, whose operations were rather encouraged than condemned by the european nations. both england and france were at this period endeavoring to lure the whalemen from the united colonies by promise of special concessions in trade, or more effective protection on the high seas than their own weakling governments could assure them. some nantucket whalemen were indeed enticed to the new english whaling town at dartmouth, near halifax, or to the french town of dunkirk. but the effort to transplant the industry did not succeed, and the years that followed, until the fateful embargo of 1807, were a period of rapid growth for the whale fishery and increasing wealth for those who pursued it. in the form of its business organization the business of whaling was the purest form of profit-sharing we have ever seen in the united states. everybody on the ship, from captain to cabin-boy, was a partner, vitally interested in the success of the voyage. each had his "lay"--that is to say, his proportionate share of the proceeds of the catch. obed macy, in his "history of nantucket," says: "the captain's lay is generally one-seventeenth part of all obtained; the first officer's one-twenty-eighth part; the second officer's, one-forty-fifth; the third officer's, one-sixtieth; a boat-steerer's from an eightieth to a hundred-and-twentieth, and a foremast hand's, from a hundred-and-twentieth to a hundred-and-eighty-fifth each." these proportions, of course, varied--those of the men according to the ruling wages in other branches of the merchant service; those of the officers to correspond with special qualities of efficiency. all the remainder of the catch went to the owners, who put into the enterprise the ship and outfitted her for a cruise, which usually occupied three years. their investment was therefore a heavy one, a suitable vessel of 300-tons burden costing in the neighborhood of $22,000, and her outfit $18,000 to $20,000. not infrequently the artisans engaged in fitting out a ship were paid by being given "lays," like the sailor. in such a case the boatmaker who built the whale-boats, the ropemaker who twisted the stout, flexible manila cord to hold the whale, the sailmaker and the cooper were all interested with the crew and the owners in the success of the voyage. it was the most practical communism that industry has ever seen, and it worked to the satisfaction of all concerned as long as the whaling trade continued profitable. the wars in which the american people engaged during the active days of the whale fishery--the revolution, the war of 1812, and the civil war--were disastrous to that industry, and from the depredations committed by the confederate cruisers in the last conflict it never fully recovered. the nature of their calling made the whalemen peculiarly vulnerable to the evils of war. cruising in distant seas, always away from home for many months, often for years, a war might be declared and fought to a finish before they knew of it. in the disordered napoleonic days they never could tell whether the flag floating at the peak of some armed vessel encountered at the antipodes was that of friend or foe. during both the wars with england they were the special objects of the enemy's malignant attention. from the earliest days american progress in maritime enterprise was viewed by the british with apprehension and dislike. particularly did the growth of the cod fisheries and the chase of the whale arouse transatlantic jealousy, the value of these callings as nurseries for seamen being only too plainly apparent. accordingly the most was made of the opportunities afforded by war for crushing the whaling industry. whalers were chased to their favorite fishing-grounds, captured, and burned. with cynical disregard of all the rules of civilized warfare--supposing war ever to be civilized--the british gave to the captured whalers only the choice of serving in british men-of-war against their own countrymen, or re-entering the whaling trade on british ships, thus building up the british whale fishery at the expense of the american. the american response to these tactics was to abandon the business during war time. in 1775 nantucket alone had had 150 vessels, aggregating 15,000 tons, afloat in pursuit of the whale. the trade was pushed with such daring and enterprise that edmund burke was moved to eulogize its followers in an eloquent speech in the british house of commons. "neither the perseverance of holland," he said, "nor the activity of france, nor the dexterous and firm sagacity of english enterprise, ever carried this most perilous mode of hardy industry to the extent to which it has been pushed by this most recent people." but the eloquence of burke could not halt the british ministry in its purpose to tax the colonies despite their protests. the revolution followed, and the whalemen of nantucket and new bedford stripped their vessels, sent down yards and all running rigging, stowed the sails, tied their barks and brigs to the deserted wharves and went out of business. the trade thus rudely checked had for the year preceding the outbreak of the war handled 45,000 barrels of sperm oil, 8500 barrels of right-whale oil, and 75,000 pounds of bone. the enforced idleness of the revolutionary days was not easily forgotten by the whalemen, and their discontent and complainings were great when the nation was again embroiled in war with great britain in 1812. it can not be said that their attitude in the early days of that conflict was patriotic. they had suffered--both at the hands of france and england--wrongs which might well rouse their resentment. they had been continually impressed by england, and the warships of both nations had seized american whalers for real or alleged violations of the orders in council or the ostend manifesto; but the whalemen were more eager for peace, even with the incidental perils due to war in europe, than for war, with its enforced idleness. when congress ordered the embargo the whalers were at first explicitly freed from its operations; but this provision being seized upon to cover evasions of the embargo, they were ultimately included. when war was finally declared, the protests of the nantucket people almost reached the point of threatening secession. a solemn memorial was first addressed to congress, relating the exceedingly exposed condition of the island and its favorite calling to the perils of war, and begging that the actual declaration of war might be averted. when this had availed nothing, and the young nation had rushed into battle with a courage that must seem to us now foolhardy, the nantucketers adopted the doubtful expedient of seeking special favor from the enemy. an appeal for immunity from the ordinary acts of war was addressed to the british admiral cochrane, and a special envoy was sent to the british naval officer commanding the north american station, to announce the neutrality of the island and to beg immunity from assault and pillage, and assurance that one vessel would be permitted to ply unmolested between the island and the mainland. as a result of these negotiations, nantucket formally declared her neutrality, and by town meeting voted to accede to the british demand that her people pay no taxes for the support of the united states. in all essential things the island ceased to be a part of the united states, its people neither rendering military service nor contributing to the revenues. but their submission to the british demands did not save the whale-trade, for repeated efforts to get the whalers declared neutral and exempt from capture failed. half a century of peace followed, during which the whaling industry rose to its highest point; but was again on the wane when the civil war let loose upon the remaining whalemen the confederate cruisers, the "shenandoah" alone burning thirty-four of them. from this last stroke the industry, enfeebled by the lessened demand for its chief product, and by the greater cost and length of voyages resulting from the growing scarcity of whales, never recovered. to-day its old-time ports are deserted by traffic. stripped of all that had salable value, its ships rot on mud-banks or at moldering wharves. the new england boy, whose ambition half a century ago was to ship on a whaler, with a boy's lay and a straight path to the quarter-deck, now goes into a city office, or makes for the west as a miner or a railroad man. the whale bids fair to become as extinct as the dodo, and the whaleman is already as rare as the buffalo. [illustration: "rot at moldering wharves"] with the extension of the fishing-grounds to the pacific began the really great days of the whale fishery. then, from such a port as nantucket or new bedford a vessel would set out, to be gone three years, carrying with her the dearest hopes and ambitions of all the inhabitants. perhaps there would be no house without some special interest in her cruise. tradesmen of a dozen sorts supplied stores on shares. ambitious boys of the best families sought places before the mast, for there was then no higher goal for youthful ambition than command of a whaler. not infrequently a captain would go direct from the marriage altar to his ship, taking a young bride off on a honeymoon of three years at sea. of course the home conditions created by this almost universal masculine employment were curious. the whaling towns were populated by women, children, and old men. the talk of the street was of big catches and the prices of oil and bone. the conversation in the shaded parlors, where sea-shells, coral, and the trophies of pacific cruises were the chief ornaments, was of the distant husbands and sons, the perils they braved, and when they might be expected home. the solid, square houses the whalemen built, stoutly timbered as though themselves ships, faced the ocean, and bore on their ridge-pole a railed platform called the bridge, whence the watchers could look far out to sea, scanning the horizon for the expected ship. lucky were they if she came into the harbor without half-masted flag or other sign of disaster. the profits of the calling in its best days were great. the best new london record is that of the "pioneer," made in an eighteen-months' cruise in 1864-5. she brought back 1391 barrels of oil and 22,650 pounds of bone, all valued at $150,060. the "envoy," of new bedford, after being condemned as unseaworthy, was fitted out in 1847 at a cost of $8000, and sent out on a final cruise. she found oil and bone to the value of $132,450; and reaching san francisco in the flush times, was sold for $6000. as an offset to these records, is the legend of the nantucket captain who appeared off the harbor's mouth after a cruise of three years. "what luck, cap'n?" asked the first to board. "well, i got nary a barrel of oil and nary a pound of bone; but i had a _mighty good sail_." when the bar was crossed and the ship fairly in blue water, work began. rudyard kipling has a characteristic story, "how the ship found herself," telling how each bolt and plate, each nut, screw-thread, brace, and rivet in one of those iron tanks we now call ships adjusts itself to its work on the first voyage. on the whaler the crew had to find itself, to readjust its relations, come to know its constituent parts, and learn the ways of its superiors. sometimes a ship was manned by men who had grown up together and who had served often on the same craft; but as a rule the men of the forecastle were a rough and vagrant lot; capable seamen, indeed, but of the adventurous and irresponsible sort, for service before the mast on a whaler was not eagerly sought by the men of the merchant service. for a time indians were plenty, and their fine physique and racial traits made them skillful harpooners. as they became scarce, negroes began to appear among the whalemen, with now and then a lascar, a south sea islander, portuguese, and hawaiians. the alert new englanders, trained to the life of the sea, seldom lingered long in the forecastle, but quickly made their way to the posts of command. there they were despots, for nowhere was the discipline more severe than on whalemen. the rule was a word and a blow--and the word was commonly a curse. the ship was out for a five-years' cruise, perhaps, and the captain knew that the safety of all depended upon unquestioning obedience to his authority. once in a while even the cowed crew would revolt, and infrequent stories of mutiny and murder appear in the record of the whale trade. the whaler, like a man-of-war, carried a larger crew than was necessary for the work of navigation, and it was necessary to devise work to keep the men employed. as a result, the ships were kept cleaner than any others in the merchant service, even though the work of trying out the blubber was necessarily productive of smoke, soot, and grease. as a rule the voyage to the pacific whaling waters was round cape horn, though occasionally a vessel made its way to the eastward and rounded the cape of good hope. almost always the world was circumnavigated before return. in early days the pacific whalers found their game in plenty along the coast of chili; but in time they were forced to push further and further north until the japan sea and bering sea became the favorite fishing places. the whale was usually first sighted by the lookout in the crow's nest. a warm-blooded animal, breathing with lungs, and not with gills, like a fish, the whale is obliged to come to the surface of the water periodically to breathe. as he does so he exhales the air from his lungs through blow-holes or spiracles at the top of his head; and this warm, moist air, coming thus from his lungs into the cool air, condenses, forming a jet of vapor looking like a fountain, though there is, in fact, no spout of water. "there she blows! b-l-o-o-o-ws! blo-o-ows!" cries the lookout at this spectacle. all is activity at once on deck, the captain calling to the lookout for the direction and character of the "pod" or school. the sperm whale throws his spout forward at an angle, instead of perpendicularly into the air, and hence is easily distinguished from right whales at a distance. the ship is then headed toward the game, coming to about a mile away. as the whale, unless alarmed, seldom swims more than two and a half miles an hour, and usually stays below only about forty-five minutes at a time, there is little difficulty in overhauling him. then the boats are launched, the captain and a sufficient number of men staying with the ship. [illustration: "there she blows"] in approaching the whale, every effort is made to come up to him at the point of least danger. this point is determined partly by the lines of the whale's vision, partly by his methods of defense. the right whale can only see dead ahead, and his one weapon is his tail, which gigantic fin, weighing several tons and measuring sometimes twenty feet across the tips of the flukes, he swings with irresistible force and all the agility of a fencer at sword-play. he, therefore, is attacked from the side, well toward his jaws. the sperm whale, however, is dangerous at both ends. his tail, though less elastic than that of the right whale, can deal a prodigious up-and-down blow, while his gigantic jaws, well garnished with sharp teeth, and capacious gullet, that readily could gulp down a man, are his chief terrors. his eyes, too, set obliquely, enable him to command the sea at all points save dead ahead, and it is accordingly from this point that the fishermen approach him. but however stealthily they move, the opportunities for disappointment are many. big as he is, the whale is not sluggish. in an instant he may sink bodily from sight; or, throwing his flukes high in air, "sound," to be seen no more; or, casting himself bodily on the boat, blot it out of existence; or, taking it in his jaws, carry it down with him. but supposing the whale to be oblivious of its approach, the boat comes as near as seems safe, and the harpooner, poised in the bow, his knee against the bracket that steadies him, lets fly his weapon; and, hit or miss, follows it up at once with a second bent onto the same line. some harpooners were of such strength and skill that they could hurl their irons as far as four or five fathoms. in one famous case boats from an american and british ship were in pursuit of the same whale, the british boat on the inside. it is the law of the fishery that the whale belongs to the boat that first makes fast--and many a pretty quarrel has grown out of this rule. so in this instance--seeing the danger that his rival might win the game--the american harpooner, with a prodigious effort, darted his iron clear over the rival boat and deep into the mass of blubber. [illustration: "taking it in his jaws"] what a whale will do when struck no man can tell before the event. the boat-load of puffing, perspiring men who have pulled at full speed up to the monster may suddenly find themselves confronted with a furious, vindictive, aggressive beast weighing eighty tons, and bent on grinding their boat and themselves to powder; or he may simply turn tail and run. sometimes he sounds, going down, down, down, until all the line in the boat is exhausted, and all that other boats can bend on is gone too. then the end is thrown over with a drag, and his reappearance awaited. sometimes he dashes off over the surface of the water at a speed of fifteen knots an hour, towing the boat, while the crew hope that their "nantucket sleigh-ride" will end before they lose the ship for good. but once fast, the whalemen try to pull close alongside the monster. then the mate takes the long, keen lance and plunges it deep into the great shuddering carcass, "churning" it up and down and seeking to pierce the heart or lungs. this is the moment of danger; for, driven mad with pain, the great beast rolls and thrashes about convulsively. if the boat clings fast to his side, it is in danger of being crushed or engulfed at any moment; if it retreats, he may recover himself and be off before the death-stroke can be delivered. in later days the explosive bomb, discharged from a distance, has done away with this peril; but in the palmy days of the whale fishery the men would rush into the circle of sea lashed into foam by those mighty fins, get close to the whale, as the boxer gets under the guard of his foe, smite him with lance and razor-edged spade until his spouts ran red, and to his fury there should succeed the calm of approaching death. then the boats, pulled off. the command was "pipes all"; and, placidly smoking in the presence of that mighty death, the whalers awaited their ship. stories of "fighting whales" fill the chronicles of our old whaling ports. there was the old bull sperm encountered by captain huntling off the river de la plata, which is told us in a fascinating old book, "the nimrod of the sea." the first boat that made fast to this tough old warrior he speedily bit in two; and while her crew were swimming away from the wreck with all possible speed, the whale thrashed away at the pieces until all were reduced to small bits. two other boats meanwhile made fast to the furious animal. wheeling about in the foam, reddened with his blood, he crushed them as a tiger would crunch its prey. all about him were men struggling in the water--twelve of them, the crews of the two demolished boats. of the boats themselves nothing was left big enough to float a man. the ship was miles away. three of the sailors climbed on the back of their enemy, clinging by the harpoons and ropes still fast to him, while the others swam away for dear life, thinking only of escaping that all-engulfing jaw or the blows of that murderous tail. now came another boat from the ship, picked up the swimmers, and cautiously rescued those perched on the whale's back from their island of shuddering flesh. the spirit of the monster was still undaunted. though six harpoons were sunk into his body and he was dragging 300 fathoms of line, he was still in fighting mood, crunching oars, kegs, and bits of boat for more enemies to demolish. all hands made for the ship, where captain hunting, quite as dogged and determined as his adversary, was preparing to renew the combat. two spare boats were fitted for use, and again the whalemen started after their foe. he, for his part, remained on the battle-ground, amid the débris of his hunters' property, and awaited attack. nay, more; he churned the water with his mighty tail and moved forward to meet his enemy, with ready jaw to grind them to bits. the captain at the boat-oar, or steering-oar, made a mighty effort and escaped the rush; then sent an explosive bomb into the whale's vitals as he surged past. struck unto death, the great bull went into his flurry; but in dying he rolled over the captain's boat like an avalanche, destroying it as completely as he had the three others. so man won the battle, but at a heavy cost. the whaleman who chronicled this fight says significantly: "the captain proceeded to buenos ayres, as much to allow his men, who were mostly green, to run away, as for the purpose of refitting, as he knew they would be useless thereafter." it was well recognized in the whaling service that men once thoroughly "gallied," or frightened, were seldom useful again; and, indeed, most of the participants in this battle did, as the captain anticipated, desert at the first port. curiously enough, there did not begin to be a literature of whaling until the industry went into its decadence. the old-time whalers, leading lives of continual romance and adventure, found their calling so commonplace that they noted shipwrecks, mutinies, and disaster in the struggles of the whale baldly in their logbooks, without attempt at graphic description. it is true the piety of nantucket did result in incorporating the whale in the local hymn-book, but with what doubtful literary success these verses from the pen of peleg folger--himself a whaleman--will too painfully attest: thou didst, o lord, create the mighty whale, that wondrous monster of a mighty length; vast is his head and body, vast his tail, beyond conception his unmeasured strength. when the surface of the sea hath broke arising from the dark abyss below, his breath appears a lofty stream of smoke, the circling waves like glittering banks of snow. and though he furiously doth us assail, thou dost preserve us from all dangers free; he cuts our boats in pieces with his tail, and spills us all at once into the sea. stories of the whale fishery are plentiful, and of late years there has been some effort made to gather these into a kind of popular history of the industry. the following incidents are gathered from a pamphlet, published in the early days of the nineteenth century, by thomas nevins, a new england whaler: "a remarkable instance of the power which the whale possesses in its tail was exhibited within my own observation in the year 1807. on the 29th of may a whale was harpooned by an officer belonging to the 'resolution.' it descended a considerable depth, and on its reappearance evinced an uncommon degree of irritation. it made such a display of its fins and tail that few of the crew were hardy enough to approach it. the captain, observing their timidity, called a boat and himself struck a second harpoon. another boat immediately followed, and unfortunately advanced too far. the tail was again reared into the air in a terrific attitude. the impending blow was evident. the harpooner, who was directly underneath, leaped overboard, and the next moment the threatened stroke was impressed on the center of the boat, which it buried in the water. happily no one was injured. the harpooner who leaped overboard escaped death by the act, the tail having struck the very spot on which he stood. the effects of the blow were astonishing--the keel was broken, the gunwales and every plank excepting two were cut through, and it was evident that the boat would have been completely divided, had not the tail struck directly upon a coil of lines. the boat was rendered useless. "the dutch ship 'gort-moolen,' commanded by cornelius gerard ouwekaas, with a cargo of seven fish, was anchored in greenland, in the year 1660. the captain, perceiving a whale ahead of his ship, beckoned his attendants and threw himself into a boat. he was the first to approach the whale, and was fortunate enough to harpoon it before the arrival of the second boat, which was on the advance. jacques vienkes, who had the direction of it, joined his captain immediately afterward, and prepared to make a second attack on the fish when it should remount to the surface. at the moment of its ascension, the boat of vienkes, happening, unfortunately, to be perpendicularly above it, was so suddenly and forcibly lifted up by a stroke of the head of the whale that it was dashed to pieces before the harpooner could discharge his weapon. vienkes flew along with the pieces of the boat, and fell upon the back of the animal. this intrepid seaman, who still retained his weapon in his grasp, harpooned the whale on which he stood; and by means of the harpoon and the line, which he never abandoned, he steadied himself firmly upon the fish, notwithstanding his hazardous situation, and regardless of a considerable wound that he received in his leg in his fall along with the fragments of the boat. all the efforts of the other boats to approach the whale and deliver the harpooner were futile. the captain, not seeing any other method of saving his unfortunate companion, who was in some way entangled with the line, called him to cut it with his knife and betake himself to swimming. vienkes, embarrassed and disconcerted as he was, tried in vain to follow this council. his knife was in the pocket of his drawers, and being unable to support himself with one hand, he could not get it out. the whale, meanwhile, continued advancing along the surface of the water with great rapidity, but fortunately never attempted to dive. while his comrades despaired of his life, the harpoon by which he held at length disengaged itself from the body of the whale. vienkes, being thus liberated, did not fail to take advantage of this circumstance. he cast himself into the sea, and by swimming endeavored to regain the boats, which continued the pursuit of the whale. when his shipmates perceived him struggling with the waves, they redoubled their exertions. they reached him just as his strength was exhausted, and had the happiness of rescuing this adventurous harpooner from his perilous situation. "captain lyons, of the 'raith,' of leith, while prosecuting the whale fishery on the labrador coast, in the season of 1802, discovered a large whale at a short distance from the ship. four boats were dispatched in pursuit, and two of them succeeded in approaching it so closely together that two harpoons were struck at the same moment. the fish descended a few fathoms in the direction of another of the boats, which was on the advance, rose accidentally beneath it, struck it with his head, and threw the boat, men, and apparatus about fifteen feet in the air. it was inverted by the stroke, and fell into the water with its keel upward. all the people were picked up alive by the fourth boat, which was just at hand, excepting one man, who, having got entangled in the boat, fell beneath it and was unfortunately drowned. the fish was soon afterward killed. "in 1822 two boats belonging to the ship 'baffin' went in pursuit of a whale. john carr was harpooner and commander of them. the whale they pursued led them into a vast shoal of his own species. they were so numerous that their blowing was incessant, and they believed that they did not see fewer than a hundred. fearful of alarming them without striking any, they remained a while motionless. at last one rose near carr's boat, and he approached and, fatally for himself, harpooned it. when he struck, the fish was approaching the boat; and, passing very rapidly, jerked the line out of its place over the stern and threw it upon the gunwale. its pressure in this unfavorable position so careened the boat that the side was pulled under water and it began to fill. in this emergency carr, who was a brave, active man, seized the line, and endeavored to release the boat by restoring it to its place; but by some circumstance which was never accounted for, a turn of the line flew over his arm, dragged him overboard in an instant, and drew him under the water, never more to rise. so sudden was the accident that only one man, who was watching him, saw what had happened; so that when the boat righted, which it immediately did, though half full of water, the whole crew, on looking round, inquired what had become of carr. it is impossible to imagine a death more awfully sudden and unexpected. the invisible bullet could not have effected more instantaneous destruction. the velocity of the whale at its first descent is from thirteen to fifteen feet per second. now, as this unfortunate man was adjusting the line at the water's very edge, where it must have been perfectly tight, owing to its obstruction in running out of the boat, the interval between the fastening of the line about him and his disappearance could not have exceeded the third part of a second of time, for in one second only he must have been dragged ten or twelve feet deep. indeed, he had not time for the least exclamation; and the person who saw his removal observed that it was so exceeding quick that, though his eye was upon him at the moment, he could scarcely distinguish his figure as he disappeared. "as soon as the crew recovered from their consternation, they applied themselves to the needful attention which the lines required. a second harpoon was struck from the accompanying boat, on the rising of the whale to the surface, and some lances were applied; but this melancholy occurrence had cast such a damp on all present that they became timid and inactive in their subsequent duties. the whale, when nearly exhausted, was allowed to remain some minutes unmolested, till, having recovered some degree of energy, it made a violent effort and tore itself away from the harpoons. the exertions of the crews thus proved fruitless, and were attended with serious loss. "a harpooner belonging to the 'henrietta,' of whitby, when engaged in lancing a whale into which he had previously struck a harpoon, incautiously cast a little line under his feet that he had just hauled into the boat, after it had been drawn out by the fish. a painful stroke of his lance induced the whale to dart suddenly downward. his line began to run out from under his feet, and in an instant caught him by a turn round his body. he had but just time to cry out, 'clear away the line! oh, dear!' when he was almost cut asunder, dragged overboard, and never seen afterward. the line was cut at that moment, but without avail. the fish descended to a considerable depth and died, from whence it was drawn to the surface by the lines connected with it and secured." whaling has almost ceased to have a place in the long list of our national industries. its implements and the relics of old-time cruises fill niches in museums as memorials of a practically extinct calling. along the wharves of new bedford and new london a few old brigs lie rotting, but so effective have been the ravages of time that scarcely any of the once great fleet survive even in this invalid condition. the whales have been driven far into the arctic regions, whither a few whalers employing the modern and unsportsmanlike devices of steam and explosives, follow them for a scanty profit. but the glory of the whale fishery is gone, leaving hardly a record behind it. in its time it employed thousands of stout sailors; it furnished the navy with the material that made that branch of our armed service the pride and glory of the nation. it explored unknown seas and carried the flag to undiscovered lands. was not an austrian exploring expedition, interrupted as it was about to take possession of land in the antarctic in the name of austria by encountering an american whaler, trim and trig, lying placidly at anchor in a harbor where the austrian thought no man had ever been? it built up towns in new england that half a century of lethargy has been unable to kill. and so if its brigs--and its men--now molder, if its records are scanty and its history unwritten, still americans must ever regard the whale fishery as one of the chief factors in the building of the nation--one of the most admirable chapters in our national story. chapter v the privateers--part taken by merchant sailors in building up the privateering system--lawless state of the high seas--method of distributing privateering profits--picturesque features of the calling--the gentlemen sailors--effect on the revolutionary army--perils of privateering--the old jersey prison ship--extent of privateering--effect on american marine architecture--some famous privateers--the "chasseur," the "prince de neufchátel," the "mammoth"--the system of convoys and the "running ships"--a typical privateers' battle--the "general armstrong" at fayal--summary of the work of the privateers in the early days of a new community the citizen, be he never so peaceful, is compelled, perforce, to take on the ways and the trappings of the fighting man. the pioneer is half hunter, half scout. the farmer on the outposts of civilization must be more than half a soldier; the cowboy or ranchman on our southwest frontier goes about a walking arsenal, ready at all times to take the laws into his own hands, and scorning to call on sheriffs or other peace officers for protection against personal injury. and while the original purpose of this militant, even defiant, attitude is self-protection, those who are long compelled to maintain it conceive a contempt for the law, which they find inadequate to guard them, and not infrequently degenerate into bandits. it is hardly too much to say that the nineteenth century was already well into its second quarter before there was a semblance of recognized law upon the high seas. pirates and buccaneers, privateers, and the naval vessels of the times that were little more than pirates, made the lot of the merchant sailor of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries a precarious one. wars were constant, declared on the flimsiest pretexts and with scant notice; so that the sailor putting out from port in a time of universal peace could feel no certainty that the first foreign vessel he met might not capture him as spoil of some war of which he had no knowledge. accordingly, sailors learned to defend themselves, and the ship's armory was as necessary and vastly better stocked than the ship's medicine case. to point a carronade became as needful an accomplishment as to box the compass; and he was no a.b. who did not know how to swing a cutlass. out of such conditions, and out of the wars which the napoleonic plague forced upon the world, sprung the practise of privateering; and while it is the purpose of this book to tell the story of the american merchant sailor only, it could not be complete without some account, however brief, of the american privateersman. for, indeed, the two were one throughout a considerable period of our maritime history, the sailor turning privateersman or the privateersman sailor as political or trade conditions demanded. in our colonial times, and in the earlier days of the nation, to be a famous privateersman, or to have had a hand in fitting out a successful privateer, was no mean passport to fame and fortune. some of the names most eminent in the history of our country appear in connection with the outfitting or command of privateers; and not a few of the oldest fortunes of new england had their origin in this form of legalized piracy. and, after all, it is the need of the times that fixes the morality of an act. to-day privateering is dead; not by any formal agreement, for the united states, at the congress of paris, refused to agree to its outlawry; but in our war with spain no recourse was had to letters of marque by either combatant, and it seems unlikely that in any future war between civilized nations either party will court the contempt of the world by going back to the old custom of chartering banditti to steal the property of private citizens of the hostile nation if found at sea. private property on shore has long been respected by the armies of christendom, and why its presence in a ship rather than in a cart makes it a fit object of plunder baffles the understanding. perhaps in time the kindred custom of awarding prize money to naval officers, which makes of them a species of privateers, and pays them for capturing a helpless merchant ship, while an army officer gets nothing for taking the most powerful fort, may likewise be set aside as a relic of medieval warfare. in its earliest days, of course, privateering was the weapon of a nation weak at sea against one with a large navy. so when the colonies threw down the gage of battle to great britain, almost the first act of the revolutionary government was to authorize private owners to fit out armed ships to prey on british commerce. some of the shipowners of new england had enjoyed some experience of the profits of this peculiar industry in the seven years' war, when quite a number of colonial privateers harried the french on the seas, and accordingly the response was prompt. in enterprises of this character the system of profit-sharing, already noted in connection with whaling, obtained. the owners took a certain share of each prize, and the remainder was divided among the officers and crew in certain fixed proportions. how great were the profits accruing to a privateersman in a "run of luck" might be illustrated by two facts set forth by maclay, whose "history of american privateers" is the chief authority on the subject. he asserts that "it frequently happened that even the common sailors received as their share in one cruise, over and above their wages, one thousand dollars--a small fortune in those days for a mariner," and further that "one of the boys in the 'ranger,' who less than a month before had left a farm, received as his share one ton of sugar, from thirty to forty gallons of fourth-proof jamaica rum, some twenty pounds of cotton, and about the same quantity of ginger, logwood, and allspice, besides seven hundred dollars in money." to be sure, in order to enjoy gains like these, the men had to risk the perils of battle in addition to the common ones of the sea; but it is a curious fact, recognized in all branches of industry, that the mere peril of a calling does not deter men from following it, and when it promises high profit it is sure to be overcrowded. in civil life to-day the most dangerous callings are those which are, as a rule, the most ill paid. very speedily the privateersmen became the most prosperous and the most picturesque figures along the waterside of the atlantic cities. while the dignified merchant or shipowner, with a third interest in the "daredevil" or the "flybynight," might still maintain the sober demeanor of a good citizen and a pillar of the church, despite his profits of fifty or an hundred per cent. on each cruise, the gallant sailors who came back to town with pockets full of easily-won money, and the recollection of long and dismal weeks at sea behind them, were spectacular in their rejoicings. their money was poured out freely while it lasted; and their example stirred all the townsboys, from the best families down to the scourings of the docks, to enter the same gentlemanlike profession. queerly enough, in a time of universal democracy, a provision was made on many of the privateers for the young men of family who desired to follow the calling. they were called "gentlemen sailors," and, in consideration of their social standing and the fact that they were trained to arms, were granted special and unusual privileges, such as freedom from the drudgery of working the ship, better fare than the common sailors, and more comfortable quarters. indeed, they were free of duty except when fighting was to be done, and at other times fulfilled the function of the marine guards on our modern men-of-war. this came to be a very popular calling for adventurous young men of some family influence. it has been claimed by some writers that "the revolution was won by the new england privateers"; and, indeed, there can be no doubt that their activity did contribute in no small degree to the outcome of that struggle. britain was then, as now, essentially a commercial nation, and the outcry of her merchants when the ravages of american privateers drove marine insurance rates up to thirty-three per cent., and even for a time made companies refuse it altogether, was clamorous. but there was another side to the story. privateering, like all irregular service, was demoralizing, not alone to the men engaged in it, but to the youth of the country as well. the stories of the easy life and the great profits of the privateersmen were circulated in every little town, while the revels of these sea soldiers in the water-front villages were described with picturesque embellishments throughout the land. as a result, it became hard to get young men of spirit into the patriot armies. washington complained that when the fortunes of his army were at their lowest, when he could not get clothing for his soldiers, and the snow at valley forge was stained with the blood of their unshod feet, any american shipping on a privateer was sure of a competence, while great fortunes were being made by the speculators who fitted them out. nor was this all. such was the attraction of the privateer's life that it drew to it seamen from every branch of the maritime calling. the fisheries and the west india trade, which had long been the chief mainstay of new england commerce, were ruined, and it seemed for a time as if the hardy race of american seamen were to degenerate into a mere body of buccaneers, operating under the protection of international law, but plunderers and spoilers nevertheless. fortunately, the long peace which succeeded the war of 1812 gave opportunity for the naturally lawful and civilized instincts of the americans to assert themselves, and this peril was averted. it is, then, with no admiration for the calling, and yet with no underestimate of its value to the nation, that i recount some of the achievements of those who followed it. the periods when american privateering was important were those of the revolution and the war of 1812. during the civil war the loss incurred by privateers fell upon our own people, and it is curious to note how different a tone the writers on this subject adopt when discussing the ravages of the confederate privateers and those which we let loose upon british commerce in the brave days of 1812. a true type of the revolutionary privateersmen was captain silas talbot, of massachusetts. he was one of the new england lads apprenticed to the sea at an early age, having been made a cabin-boy at twelve. he rose to command and acquired means in his profession, as we have seen was common among our early merchant sailors, and when the revolution broke out was living comfortably in his own mansion in providence. he enlisted in washington's army, but left it to become a privateer; and from that service he stepped to the quarter-deck of a man-of-war. this was not an uncommon line of development for the early privateersmen; and, indeed, it was not unusual to find navy officers, temporarily without commands, taking a cruise or two as privateers, until congress should provide more ships for the regular service--a system which did not tend to make a congress, which was niggardly at best, hasten to provide public vessels for work which was being reasonably well done at private expense. as a result of this system, we find such famous naval names as decatur, porter, hopkins, preble, barry, and barney also figuring in the lists of privateersmen. talbot's first notable exploit was clearing new york harbor of several british men-of-war by the use of fire-ships. washington, with his army, was then encamped at harlem heights, and the british ships were in the hudson river menacing his flank. talbot, in a fire-ship, well loaded with combustibles, dropped down the river and made for the biggest of the enemy's fleet, the "asia." though quickly discovered and made the target of the enemy's battery, he held his vessel on her course until fairly alongside of and entangled with the "asia," when the fuses were lighted and the volcanic craft burst into roaring flames from stem to stern. so rapid was the progress of the flames that talbot and his companions could scarcely escape with their lives from the conflagration they had themselves started, and he lay for days, badly burned and unable to see, in a little log hut on the jersey shore. the british ships were not destroyed; but, convinced that the neighborhood was unsafe for them, they dropped down the bay; so the end sought for was attained. in 1779 talbot was given command of the sloop "argo," of 100 tons; "a mere shallop, like a clumsy albany sloop," says his biographer. sixty men from the army, most of whom had served afloat, were given him for crew, and he set out to clear long island sound of tory privateers; for the loyalists in new york were quite as avid for spoils as the new england revolutionists. on his second cruise he took seven prizes, including two of these privateers. one of these was a 300-ton ship, vastly superior to the "argo" in armament and numbers, and the battle was a fierce one. nearly every man on the quarter-deck of the "argo" was killed or wounded; the speaking trumpet in talbot's hand was pierced by two bullets, and a cannon-ball carried away the tail of his coat. the damages sustained in this battle were scarce repaired when another british privateer appeared, and talbot again went into action and took her, though of scarce half her size. in all this little "argo"--which, by the way, belonged to nicholas low, of new york, an ancestor of the eminent seth low--took twelve prizes. her commander was finally captured and sent first to the infamous "jersey" prison-ship, and afterward to the old mill prison in england. [illustration: nearly every man on the quarterdeck of the "argo" was killed or wounded.] the "jersey" prison-ship was not an uncommon lot for the bold privateersman, who, when once consigned to it, found that the reward of a sea-rover was not always wealth and pleasure. a massachusetts privateersman left on record a contemporary account of the sufferings of himself and his comrades in this pestilential hulk, which may well be condensed here to show some of the perils that the adventurers dared when they took to the sea. [illustration: the prison ship "jersey".] after about one-third of the captives made with this writer had been seized and carried away to serve against their country on british war-ships, the rest were conveyed to the "jersey," which had been originally a 74-gun ship, then cut down to a hulk and moored at the wallabout, at that time a lonely and deserted place on the long island shore, now about the center of the brooklyn river front. "i found myself," writes the captive, "in a loathsome prison among a collection of the most wretched and disgusting objects i ever beheld in human form. here was a motley crew covered with rags and filth, visages pallid with disease, emaciated with hunger and anxiety, and retaining hardly a trace of their original appearance.... the first day we could obtain no food, and seldom on the second could prisoners secure it in season for cooking it. each prisoner received one-third as much as was allotted to a tar in the british navy. our bill of fare was as follows: on sunday, one pound of biscuit, one pound of pork, and half a pint of peas; monday, one pound of biscuit, one pint of oatmeal, and two ounces of butter; tuesday, one pound of biscuit and two pounds of salt beef, etc., etc. if this food had been of good quality and properly cooked, as we had no labor to perform, it would have kept us comfortable; but all our food appeared to be damaged. as for the pork, we were cheated out of more than half of it, and when it was obtained one would have judged from its motley hues, exhibiting the consistency and appearance of variegated fancy soap, that it was the flesh of the porpoise or sea-hog, and had been an inhabitant of the ocean rather than the sty. the peas were about as digestible as grape-shot; and the butter--had it not been for its adhesive properties to retain together the particles of biscuit that had been so riddled by the worms as to lose all their attraction of cohesion, we should not have considered it a desirable addition to our viands. the flour and oatmeal were sour, and the suet might have been nosed the whole length of our ship. many times since, when i have seen in the country a large kettle of potatoes and pumpkins steaming over the fire to satisfy the appetite of some farmer's swine, i have thought of our destitute and starved condition, and what a luxury we should have considered the contents of that kettle aboard the 'jersey.'... about two hours before sunset orders were given the prisoners to carry all their things below; but we were permitted to remain above until we retired for the night into our unhealthy and crowded dungeons. at sunset our ears were saluted with the insulting and hateful sound from our keepers of 'down, rebels, down,' and we were hurried below, the hatchways fastened over us, and we were left to pass the night amid the accumulated horrors of sighs and groans, of foul vapor, a nauseous and putrid atmosphere, in a stifled and almost suffocating heat.... when any of the prisoners had died during the night, their bodies were brought to the upper deck in the morning and placed upon the gratings. if the deceased had owned a blanket, any prisoner might sew it around the corpse; and then it was lowered, with a rope tied round the middle, down the side of the ship into a boat. some of the prisoners were allowed to go on shore under a guard to perform the labor of interment. in a bank near the wallabout, a hole was excavated in the sand, in which the body was put, then slightly covered. many bodies would, in a few days after this mockery of a burial, be exposed nearly bare by the action of the elements." such was, indeed, the end of many of the most gallant of the revolutionary privateersmen; but squalid and cruel as was the fate of these unfortunates, it had no effect in deterring others from seeking fortune in the same calling. in 1775-76 there were commissioned 136 vessels, with 1360 guns; in 1777, 73 vessels, with 730 guns; in 1778, 115 privateers, with a total of 1150 guns; in 1779, 167 vessels, with 2505 guns; in 1780, 228 vessels, with 3420 guns; in 1781, 449 vessels, with 6735 (the high-water mark): and in 1782, 323 vessels, with 4845 guns. moreover, the vessels grew in size and efficiency, until toward the latter end of the war they were in fact well-equipped war-vessels, ready to give a good account of themselves in a fight with a british frigate, or even to engage a shore battery and cut out prizes from a hostile harbor. it is, in fact, a striking evidence of the gallantry and the patriotism of the privateersmen that they did not seek to evade battle with the enemy's armed forces. their business was, of course, to earn profits for the merchants who had fitted them out, and profits were most easily earned by preying upon inferior or defenseless vessels. but the spirit of the war was strong upon many of them, and it is not too much to say that the privateers were handled as gallantly and accepted unfavorable odds in battle as readily as could any men-of-war. their ravages upon british commerce plunged all commercial england into woe. the war had hardly proceeded two years when it was formally declared in the house of commons that the losses to american privateers amounted to seven hundred and thirty-three ships, of a value of over $11,000,000. mr. maclay estimates from this that "our amateur man-of-war's men averaged more than four prizes each," while some took twenty and one ship twenty-eight in a single cruise. nearly eleven hundred prisoners were taken with the captured ships. while there are no complete figures for the whole period of the war obtainable, it is not to be believed that quite so high a record was maintained, for dread of privateers soon drove british shipping into their harbors, whence they put forth, if at all, under the protection of naval convoys. nevertheless, the number of captures must have continued great for some years; for, as is shown by the foregoing figures, the spoils were sufficiently attractive to cause a steady increase in the number of privateers until the last year of the war. there followed dull times for the privateersmen. most of them returned to their ordinary avocations of sea or shore--became peaceful sailors, or fishermen, or ship-builders, or farmers once again. but in so great a body of men who had lived sword in hand for years, and had fattened on the spoils of the commerce of a great nation, it was inevitable that there should be many utterly unable to return to the humdrum life of honest industry. many drifted down to that region of romance and outlawry, dear to the heart of the romantic boy, the spanish main, and there, as pirates in a small way and as buccaneers, pursued the predatory life. for a time the war which sprung up between england and france seemed to promise these turbulent spirits congenial and lawful occupation. france, it will be remembered, sent the citizen genet over to the united states to take advantage of the supposed gratitude of the american people for aid during the revolution to fit out privateers and to make our ports bases of operation against the british. it must be admitted that genet would have had an easy task, had he had but the people to reckon with. he found privateering veterans by the thousand eager to take up that manner of life once more. in all the seacoast towns were merchants quite as ready for profitable ventures in privateering under the french flag as under their own, provided they could be assured of immunity from governmental prosecution. and, finally, he found the masses of the people fired with enthusiasm for the principles of the french revolution, and eager to show sympathy for a people who, like themselves, had thrown off the yoke of kings. the few privateers that minister genet fitted out before president washington became aroused to his infraction of the principles of neutrality were quickly manned, and began sending in prizes almost before they were out of sight of the american shore. the crisis came, however, when one of these ships actually captured a british merchantman in delaware bay. then the administration made a vigorous protest, demanded the release of the vessels taken, arrested two american sailors who had shipped on the privateer, and broke up at once the whole project of the frenchman. it was a critical moment in our national history, for, between france and england abroad, the federalist and republican at home, the president had to steer a course beset with reefs. the maritime community was not greatly in sympathy with his suppression of the french minister's plans, and with some reason, for british privateers had been molesting our vessels all along our coasts and distant waters. it was a time when no merchant could tell whether the stout ship he had sent out was even then discharging her cargo at her destination, or tied up as a prize in some british port. we americans are apt to regard with some pride washington's stout adherence to the most rigid letter of the law of neutrality in those troublous times, and our historians have been at some pains to impress us with the impropriety of jefferson's scarcely concealed liking for france; but the fact is that no violation of the neutrality law which genet sought was more glaring than those continually committed by great britain, and which our government failed to resent. in time france, moved partly by pique because of our refusal to aid her, and partly by contempt for a nation that failed to protect its ships against british aggression, began itself to prey upon our commerce. then the state of our maritime trade was a dismal one. our ships were the prey of both france and england; but since we were neutral, the right of fitting out privateers of our own was denied our shipping interests. we were ground between the upper and nether millstones. but, as so often happens, persecution bred the spirit and created the weapons for its correction. when it was found that every american vessel was the possible spoil of any french or english cruiser or privateer that she might encounter; that our government was impotent to protect its seamen; that neither our neutrality rights nor the neutrality of ports in which our vessels lay commanded the respect of the two great belligerents, the yankee shipping merchants set about meeting the situation as best they might. they did not give up their effort to secure the world's trade--that was never an american method of procedure. but they built their ships so as to be able to run away from anything they might meet; and they manned and armed them so as to fight if fighting became necessary. so the american merchantman became a long, sharp, clipper-built craft that could show her heels to almost anything afloat; moderate of draft, so that she could run into lagoons and bays where no warship could follow. they mounted from four to twelve guns, and carried an armory of rifles and cutlasses which their men were well trained to handle. accordingly, when the depredations of foreign nations became such as could not longer be borne, and after president jefferson's plan of punishing europe for interfering with our commerce by laying an embargo which kept our ships at home had failed, war was declared with england; and from every port on the atlantic seaboard privateers--ships as fit for their purpose as though specially built for it--swarmed forth seeking revenge and spoils. their very names told of the reasons of the american merchantmen for complaint--the reasons why they rejoiced that they were now to have their turn. there were the "orders-in-council," the "right-of-search," the "fair-trader," the "revenge." some were mere pilot-boats, with a long tom amidships and a crew of sixty men; others were vessels of 300 tons, with an armament and crew like a man-of-war. before the middle of july, 1812, sixty-five such privateers had sailed, and the british merchantmen were scudding for cover like a covey of frightened quail. the war of 1812 was won, so far as it was won at all, on the ocean. in the land operations from the very beginning the americans came off second best; and the one battle of importance in which they were the victors--the battle of new orleans--was without influence upon the result, having been fought after the treaty of peace had been signed at ghent. but on the ocean the honors were all taken by the americans, and no small share of these honors fell to the private armed navy of privateers. as the war progressed these vessels became in type more like the regular sloop-of-war, for the earlier craft, while useful before the british began sending out their merchantmen under convoy, proved to be too small to fight and too light to escape destruction from one well-aimed broadside. the privateer of 1813 was usually about 115 to 120 feet long on the spar-deck, 31 feet beam, and rigged as a brig or ship. they were always fast sailers, and notable for sailing close to the wind. while armed to fight, if need be, that was not their purpose, and a privateersman who gained the reputation among owners of being a fighting captain was likely to go long without a command. accordingly, these vessels were lightly built and over-rigged (according to the ideas of british naval construction), for speed was the great desideratum. they were at once the admiration and the envy of the british, who imitated their models without success and tried to utilize them for cruisers when captured, but destroyed their sailing qualities by altering their rig and strengthening their hulls at the expense of lightness and symmetry. i have already referred to michael scott's famous story of sea life, "tom cringle's log," which, though in form a work of fiction, contains so many accounts of actual happenings, and expresses so fully the ideas of the british naval officer of that time, that it may well be quoted in a work of historical character. tom cringle, after detailing with a lively description the capture of a yankee privateer, says that she was assigned to him for his next command. he had seen her under weigh, had admired her trim model, her tapering spars, her taut cordage, and the swiftness with which she came about and reached to windward. he thus describes the change the british outfitters made in her: "when i had last seen her she was the most beautiful little craft, both in hull and rigging, that ever delighted the eyes of a sailor; but the dock yard riggers and carpenters had fairly bedeviled her at least so far as appearances went. first, they had replaced the light rail on her gunwale by heavy, solid bulwarks four feet high, surmounted by hammock nettings at least another foot; so that the symmetrical little vessel, that formerly floated on the foam light as a seagull, now looked like a clumsy, dish-shaped dutch dogger. her long, slender wands of masts, which used to swing about as if there were neither shrouds nor stays to support them, were now as taut and stiff as church-steeples, with four heavy shrouds of a side, and stays, and back-stays, and the devil knows what all." it is a curious fact that no nation ever succeeded in imitating these craft. the french went into privateering without in the least disturbing the equanimity of the british shipowner; but the day the yankee privateers took the sea a cry went up from the docks and warehouses of liverpool and london that reverberated among the arches of westminster hall. the newspapers were loud in their attacks upon the admiralty authorities. said the _morning chronicle_ in 1814: "that the whole coast of ireland, from wexford round by cape clear to carrickfergus, should have been for above a month under the unresisted domination of a few petty fly-by-nights from the blockaded ports of the united states is a grievance equally intolerable and disgraceful." this wail may have resulted from the pleasantry of one captain boyle, of the privateer "chasseur," a famous baltimore clipper, mounting sixteen guns, with a complement of one hundred officers, seamen, and marines. captain boyle, after exhausting, as it seemed to him, the possibilities of the west indies for excitement and profit, took up the english channel for his favorite cruising-ground. one of the british devices of that day for the embarrassment of an enemy was what is called a "paper blockade." that is to say, when it appeared that the blockading fleet had too few vessels to make the blockade really effective by watching each port, the admiral commanding would issue a proclamation that such and such ports were in a state of blockade, and then withdraw his vessels from those ports; but still claim the right to capture any neutral vessels which he might encounter bound thither. this practise is now universally interdicted by international law, which declares that a blockade, to be binding upon neutrals, must be effective. but in those days england made her own international law--for the sea, at any rate--and the paper blockade was one of her pet weapons. captain boyle satirized this practise by drawing up a formal proclamation of blockade of all the ports of great britain and ireland, and sending it to lloyds, where it was actually posted. his action was not wholly a jest, either, for he did blockade the port of st. vincent so effectively for five days that the inhabitants sent off a pitiful appeal to admiral durham to send a frigate to their relief. it was at this time, too, that the _annual register_ recorded as "a most mortifying reflection" that, with a navy of more than one thousand ships in commission, "it was not safe for a british vessel to sail without convoy from one part of the english or irish channel to another." merchants held meetings, insurance corporations and boards of trade memorialized the government on the subject; the shipowners and merchants of glasgow, in formal resolutions, called the attention of the admiralty to the fact that "in the short space of twenty-four months above eight hundred vessels have been captured by the power whose maritime strength we have hitherto impolitically held in contempt." it was, indeed, a real blockade of the british isles that was effected by these irregular and pigmy vessels manned by the sailors of a nation that the british had long held in high scorn. the historian henry adams, without attempting to give any complete list of captures made on the british coasts in 1814, cites these facts: "the 'siren,' a schooner of less than 200 tons, with seven guns and seventy-five men, had an engagement with his majesty's cutter 'landrail,' of four guns, as the cutter was crossing the irish sea with dispatches. the 'landrail' was captured, after a somewhat smart action, and was sent to america, but was recaptured on the way. the victory was not remarkable, but the place of capture was very significant, and it happened july 12 only a fortnight after blakely captured the 'reindeer' farther westward. the 'siren' was but one of many privateers in those waters. the 'governor tompkins' burned fourteen vessels successively in the british channel. the 'young wasp,' of philadelphia, cruised nearly six months about the coasts of england and spain, and in the course of west india commerce. the 'harpy,' of baltimore, another large vessel of some 350 tons and fourteen guns, cruised nearly three months off the coast of ireland, in the british channel, and in the bay of biscay, and returned safely to boston filled with plunder, including, as was said, upward of £100,000 in british treasury notes and bills of exchange. the 'leo,' a boston schooner of about 200 tons, was famous for its exploits in these waters, but was captured at last by the frigate 'tiber,' after a chase of about eleven hours. the 'mammoth,' a baltimore schooner of nearly 400 tons, was seventeen days off cape clear, the southernmost point of ireland. the most mischievous of all was the 'prince of neufchâtel,' new york, which chose the irish channel as its favorite haunt, where during the summer it made ordinary coasting traffic impossible." the vessels enumerated by mr. adams were by no means among the more famous of the privateers of the war of 1812; yet when we come to examine their records we find something notable or something romantic in the career of each--a fact full of suggestion of the excitement of the privateersman's life. the "leo," for example, at this time was under command of captain george coggeshall, the foremost of all the privateers, and a man who so loved his calling that he wrote an excellent book about it. under an earlier commander she made several most profitable cruises, and when purchased by coggeshall's associates was lying in a french port. france and england were then at peace, and it may be that the french remembered the way in which we had suppressed the citizen genet. at any rate, they refused to let coggeshall take his ship out of the harbor with more than one gun--a long tom--aboard. nothing daunted, he started out with this armament, to which some twenty muskets were added, on a privateering cruise in the channel, which was full of british cruisers. even the long tom proved untrustworthy, so recourse was finally had to carrying the enemy by boarding; and in this way four valuable prizes were taken, of which three were sent home with prize crews. but a gale carried away the "leo's" foremast, and she fell a prey to an english frigate which happened along untimely. the "mammoth" was emphatically a lucky ship. in seven weeks she took seventeen merchantmen, paying for herself several times over. once she fought a lively battle with a british transport carrying four hundred men, but prudently drew off. true, the government was paying a bonus of twenty-five dollars a head for prisoners; but cargoes were more valuable. few of the privateers troubled to send in their prisoners, if they could parole and release them. in all, the "mammoth" captured twenty-one vessels, and released on parole three hundred prisoners. of all the foregoing vessels, the "prince de neufchátel" was the most famous. she was an hermaphrodite brig of 310 tons, mounting 17 guns. she was a "lucky" vessel, several times escaping a vastly superior force and bringing into port, for the profit of her owners, goods valued at $3,000,000, besides large quantities of specie. her historic achievement, however, was beating off the british frigate "endymion," off nantucket, one dark night, after a battle concerning which a british naval historian, none too friendly to americans, wrote: "so determined and effective a resistance did great credit to the american captain and his crew." the privateer had a prize in tow, by which, of course, her movements were much hampered, for her captain was not inclined to save himself at the expense of his booty. but, more than this, she had thirty-seven prisoners aboard, while her own crew was sorely reduced by manning prizes. the night being calm, the british attempted to take the ship by boarding from small boats, for what reason does not readily appear, since the vessels were within range of each other, and the frigate's superior metal could probably have reduced the americans to subjection. instead, however, of opening fire with his broadside, the enemy sent out boarding parties in five boats. their approach was detected on the american vessel, and a rapid fire with small arms and cannon opened upon them, to which they paid no attention, but pressed doggedly on. in a moment the boats surrounded the privateer--one on each bow, one on each side, and one under the stern--and the boarders began to swarm up the sides like cats. it was a bloody hand-to-hand contest that followed, in which every weapon, from cutlass and clubbed musket down to bare hands, was employed. heavy shot, which had been piled up in readiness on deck, were thrown into the boats in an effort to sink them. hundreds of loaded muskets were ranged along the rail, so that the firing was not interrupted to reload. time and again the british renewed their efforts to board, but were hurled back by the american defenders. a few who succeeded in reaching the decks were cut down before they had time to profit by their brief advantage. once only did it seem that the ship was in danger. then the assailants, who outnumbered the americans four to one, had reached the deck over the bows in such numbers that they were gradually driving the defenders aft. every moment more men came swarming over the side; and as the americans ran from all parts of the ship to meet and overpower those who had already reached the deck, new ways were opened for others to clamber aboard. the situation was critical; but was saved by captain ordronaux by a desperate expedient, and one which it is clear would have availed nothing had not his men known him for a man of fierce determination, ready to fulfil any desperate threat. seizing a lighted match from one of the gunners, he ran to the hatch immediately over the magazine, and called out to his men that if they retreated farther he would blow up the ship, its defenders, and its assailants. the men rallied. they swung a cannon in board so that it commanded the deck, and swept away the invaders with a storm of grape. in a few minutes the remaining british were driven back to their boats. the battle had lasted less than half an hour when the british called for quarter, the smoke cleared away, the cries of combat ceased, and both parties were able to count their losses. the crew of the privateer had numbered thirty-seven, of whom seven were killed and twenty-four wounded. the british had advanced to the attack with a force of one hundred and twenty-eight, in five boats. three of the boats drifted away empty, one was sunk, and one was captured. of the attacking force not one escaped; thirty were made prisoners, many of them sorely wounded, and the rest were either killed or swept away by the tide and drowned. the privateers actually had more prisoners than they had men of their own. some of the prisoners were kept towing in a launch at the stern, and, by way of strategy, captain ordronaux set two boys to playing a fife and drum and stamping about in a sequestered part of his decks as though he had a heavy force aboard. only by sending the prisoners ashore under parole was the danger of an uprising among the captives averted. [illustration: if they retreated farther he would blow up the ship] in the end the "prince de neufchátel" was captured by a british squadron, but only after a sudden squall had carried away several of her spars and made her helpless. as the war progressed it became the custom of british merchants to send out their ships only in fleets, convoyed by one or two men-of-war, a system that, of course, could be adopted only by nations very rich in war-ships. the privateers' method of meeting this was to cruise in couples, a pair of swift, light schooners, hunting the prize together. when the convoy was encountered, both would attack, picking out each its prey. the convoys were usually made up with a man-of-war at the head of the column, and as this vessel would make sail after one of the privateers, the other would rush in at some point out of range, and cut out its prize. when the british began sending out two ships of war with each convoy, the privateers cruised in threes, and the same tactics were observed. but the richest prizes won by the privateer were the single going ships, called "running ships," that were prepared to defend themselves, and scorned to wait for convoy. these were generally great packets trading to the indies, whose cargoes were too valuable to be delayed until some man-of-war could be found for their protection. they were heavily armed, often, indeed, equaling a frigate in their batteries and the size of their crews. but, although to attack one of these meant a desperate fight, the yankee privateer always welcomed the chance, for besides a valuable cargo, they were apt to carry a considerable sum in specie. the capture of one of these vessels, too, was the cause of annoyance to the enemy disproportionate to even their great value to their captors, for they not only carried the royal mail, but were usually the agencies by which the dispatches of the british general were forwarded. mail and dispatches, alike, were promptly thrown overboard by their captors. in the diary of a privateersman of revolutionary days is to be found the story of the capture of an indiaman which may well be reprinted as typical. [illustration: "i think she is a heavy ship."] "as the fog cleared up, we perceived her to be a large ship under english colors, to the windward, standing athwart our starboard bow. as she came down upon us, she appeared as large as a seventy-four; and we were not deceived respecting her size, for it afterwards proved that she was an old east indiaman, of 1100 tons burden, fitted out as a letter of marque for the west india trade, mounted with thirty-two guns, and furnished with a complement of one hundred and fifty men. she was called the 'admiral duff,' commanded by richard strange, from st. christopher and st. eustachia, laden with sugar and tobacco, and bound to london. i was standing near our first lieutenant, mr. little, who was calmly examining the enemy as she approached, with his spy-glass, when captain williams stepped up and asked his opinion of her. the lieutenant applied the glass to his eye again and took a deliberate look in silence, and replied: 'i think she is a heavy ship, and that we shall have some hard fighting, but of one thing i am certain, she is not a frigate; if she were, she would not keep yawing and showing her broadsides as she does; she would show nothing but her head and stern; we shall have the advantage of her, and the quicker we get alongside the better.' our captain ordered english colors to be hoisted, and the ship to be cleared for action. "the enemy approached 'till within musket-shot of us. the two ships were so near to each other that we could distinguish the officers from the men; and i particularly noticed the captain on the gangway, a noble-looking man, having a large gold-laced cocked hat on his head, and a speaking-trumpet in his hand. lieutenant little possessed a powerful voice, and he was directed to hail the enemy; at the same time the quartermaster was ordered to stand ready to haul down the english flag and to hoist up the american. our lieutenant took his station on the after part of the starboard gangway, and elevating his trumpet, exclaimed: 'hullo. whence come you?' "'from jamaica, bound to london,' was the answer. "'what is the ship's name?' inquired the lieutenant. "'the "admiral duff",' was the reply. "the english captain then thought it his turn to interrogate, and asked the name of our ship. lieutenant little, in order to gain time, put the trumpet to his ear, pretending not to hear the question. during the short interval thus gained, captain williams called upon the gunner to ascertain how many guns could be brought to bear upon the enemy. 'five,' was the answer. 'then fire, and shift the colors,' were the orders. the cannons poured forth their deadly contents, and, with the first flash, the american flag took the place of the british ensign at our masthead. "the compliment was returned in the form of a full broadside, and the action commenced. i was stationed on the edge of the quarter-deck, to sponge and load a six-pounder; this position gave me a fine opportunity to see the whole action. broadsides were exchanged with great rapidity for nearly an hour; our fire, as we afterward ascertained, produced a terrible slaughter among the enemy, while our loss was as yet trifling. i happened to be looking for a moment toward the main deck, when a large shot came through our ship's side and killed a midshipman. at this moment a shot from one of our marines killed the man at the wheel of the enemy's ship, and, his place not being immediately supplied, she was brought alongside of us in such a manner as to bring her bowsprit directly across our forecastle. not knowing the cause of this movement, we supposed it to be the intention of the enemy to board us. our boarders were ordered to be ready with their pikes to resist any such attempt, while our guns on the main deck were sending death and destruction among the crew of the enemy. their principal object now seemed to be to get liberated from us, and by cutting away some of their rigging, they were soon clear, and at the distance of a pistol shot. "the action was then renewed, with additional fury; broadside for broadside continued with unabated vigor; at times, so near to each other that the muzzles of our guns came almost in contact, then again at such a distance as to allow of taking deliberate aim. the contest was obstinately continued by the enemy, although we could perceive that great havoc was made among them, and that it was with much difficulty that their men were compelled to remain at their quarters. a charge of grape-shot came in at one of our portholes, which dangerously wounded four or five of our men, among whom was our third lieutenant, mr. little, brother to the first. "the action had now lasted about an hour and a half, and the fire from the enemy began to slacken, when we suddenly discovered that all the sails on her mainmast were enveloped in a blaze. fire spread with amazing rapidity, and, running down the after rigging, it soon communicated with her magazine, when her whole stern was blown off, and her valuable cargo emptied into the sea. our enemy's ship was now a complete wreck, though she still floated, and the survivors were endeavoring to save themselves in the only boat that had escaped the general destruction. the humanity of our captain urged him to make all possible exertions to save the miserable wounded and burned wretches, who were struggling for their lives in the water. the ship of the enemy was greatly our superior in size, and lay much higher out of the water. our boats had been exposed to his fire, as they were placed on spars between the fore and mainmasts during the action, and had suffered considerable damage. the carpenters were ordered to repair them with the utmost expedition, and we got them out in season to take up fifty-five men, the greater part of whom had been wounded by our shot, or burned when the powder-magazine exploded. their limbs were mutilated by all manner of wounds, while some were burned to such a degree that the skin was nearly flayed from their bodies. our surgeon and his assistants had just completed the task of dressing the wounds of our own crew, and then they directed their attention to the wounded of the enemy. several of them suffered the amputation of their limbs, five of them died of their wounds, and were committed to their watery graves. from the survivors we learned that the british commander had frequently expressed a desire to come in contact with a 'yankee frigate' during his voyage, that he might have a prize to carry to london. poor fellow. he little thought of losing his ship and his life in an engagement with a ship so much inferior to his own--with an enemy upon whom he looked with so much contempt." but most notable of all the battles fought by privateersmen in the war of 1812, was the defense of the brig "general armstrong," in the harbor of fayal, in september, 1814. this famous combat has passed into history, not only because of the gallant fight made by the privateer, but because the three british men-of-war to whom she gave battle, were on their way to cooperate with packenham at new orleans, and the delay due to the injuries they received, made them too late to aid in that expedition, and may have thus contributed to general jackson's success. the "general armstrong" had always been a lucky craft, and her exploits in the capture of merchantmen, no less than the daring of her commander in giving battle to ships-of-war which he encountered, had won her the peculiar hate of the british navy. at the very beginning of her career, when in command of captain guy r. champlin, she fought a british frigate for more than an hour, and inflicted such grave damage that the enemy was happy enough to let her slip away when the wind freshened. on another occasion she engaged a british armed ship of vastly superior strength, off the surinam river, and forced her to run ashore. probably the most valuable prize taken in the war fell to her guns--the ship "queen," with a cargo invoiced at £90,000. indeed, such had been her audacity, and so many her successes, that the british were eager for her capture or destruction, above that of any other privateer. in september, 1814, the "general armstrong," now under command of captain samuel g. reid, was at anchor in the harbor at fayal, a port of portugal, when her commander saw a british war-brig come nosing her way into the harbor. soon after another vessel appeared, and then a third, larger than the first two, and all flying the british ensign. captain reid immediately began to fear for his safety. it was true that he was in a neutral port, and under the law of nations exempt from attack, but the british had never manifested that extreme respect for neutrality that they exacted of president washington when france tried to fit out privateers in our ports. more than once they had attacked and destroyed our vessels in neutral ports, and, indeed, it seemed that the british test of neutrality was whether the nation whose flag was thus affronted, was able or likely to resent it. portugal was not such a nation. all this was clear to captain reid, and when he saw a rapid signaling begun between the three vessels of the enemy, he felt confident that he was to be attacked. he had already discovered that the strangers were the 74-gun ship of the line "plantagenet," the 38-gun frigate "rota," and the 18-gun war-brig "carnation," comprising a force against which he could not hope to win a victory. the night came on clear, with a bright moon, and as the american captain saw boats from the two smaller vessels rallying about the larger one, he got out his sweeps and began moving his vessel inshore, so as to get under the guns of the decrepit fort, with which portugal guarded her harbor. at this, four boats crowded with men, put out from the side of the british ship, and made for the privateer, seeing which, reid dropped anchor and put springs on his cables, so as to keep his broadside to bear on the enemy as they approached. then he shouted to the british, warning them to keep off, or he would fire. they paid no attention to the warning, but pressed on, when he opened a brisk fire upon them. for a time there was a lively interchange of shots, but the superior marksmanship of the americans soon drove the enemy out of range with heavy casualties. the british retreated to their ships with a hatred for the yankee privateer even more bitter than that which had impelled them to the lawless attack, and a fiercer determination for her destruction. it is proper to note, that after the battle was fought, and the british commander had calmly considered the possible consequences of his violation of the neutrality laws, he attempted to make it appear that the americans themselves were the aggressors. his plea, as made in a formal report to the admiralty, was that he had sent four boats to discover the character of the american vessel; that they, upon hailing her, had been fired upon and suffered severe loss, and that accordingly he felt that the affront to the british flag could only be expiated by the destruction of the vessel. the explanation was not even plausible, for the british commander, elsewhere in his report, acknowledged that he was perfectly informed as to the identity of the vessel, and even had this not been the case, it is not customary to send four boats heavily laden with armed men, merely to discover the character of a ship in a friendly port. the withdrawal of the british boats gave captain reid time to complete the removal of his vessel to a point underneath the guns of the portuguese battery. this gave him a position better fitted for defense, although his hope that the portuguese would defend the neutrality of their port, was destined to disappointment, for not a shot was fired from the battery. [illustration: "striving to reach her decks at every point"] toward midnight the attack was resumed, and by this time the firing within the harbor had awakened the people of the town, who crowded down to the shore to see the battle. the british, in explanation of the reverse which they suffered, declared that all the americans in fayal armed themselves, and from the shore supplemented the fire from the "general armstrong." captain reid, however, makes no reference to this assistance. in all, some four hundred men joined in the second attack. twelve boats were in line, most of them with a howitzer mounted in the bow. the americans used their artillery on these craft as they approached, and inflicted great damage before the enemy were in a position to board. the british vessels, though within easy gun-fire, dared not use their heavy cannon, lest they should injure their own men, and furthermore, for fear that the shot would fall into the town. the midnight struggle was a desperate one, the enemy fairly surrounding the "general armstrong," and striving to reach her decks at every point. but though greatly outnumbered, the defenders were able to maintain their position, and not a boarder succeeded in reaching the decks. the struggle continued for nearly three-quarters of an hour, after which the british again drew off. two boats filled with dead and dying men, were captured by the americans, the unhurt survivors leaping overboard and swimming ashore. the british report showed, that in these two attacks there were about one hundred and forty of the enemy killed, and one hundred and thirty wounded. the americans had lost only two killed and seven wounded, but the ship was left in no condition for future defense. many of the guns were dismounted, and the long tom, which had been the mainstay of the defense, was capsized. captain reid and his officers worked with the utmost energy through the night, trying to fit the vessel for a renewal of the combat in the morning, but at three o'clock he was called ashore by a note from the american consul. here he was informed that the portuguese governor had made a personal appeal to the british commander for a cessation of the attack, but that it had been refused, with the statement that the vessel would be destroyed by cannon-fire from the british ships in the morning. against an attack of this sort it was, of course, futile for the "general armstrong" to attempt to offer defense, and accordingly captain reid landed his men with their personal effects, and soon after the british began fire in the morning, scuttled the ship and abandoned her. he led his men into the interior, seized on an abandoned convent, and fortifying it, prepared to resist capture. no attempt, however, was made to pursue him, the british commander contenting himself with the destruction of the privateer. for nearly a week the british ships were delayed in the harbor, burying their dead and making repairs. when they reached new orleans, the army which they had been sent to reenforce, had met jackson on the plains of chalmette, and had been defeated. the price paid for the "general armstrong" was, perhaps, the heaviest of the war. the british commander seemed to appreciate this fact, for every effort was made to keep the news of the battle from becoming known in england, and when complete concealment was no longer possible, an official report was given out that minimized the british loss, magnified the number of the americans, and totally mis-stated the facts bearing on the violation of the neutrality of the portuguese port. captain reid, however, was made a hero by his countrymen. a portuguese ship took him and his crew to amelia island, whence they made their way to new york. poughkeepsie voted him a sword. richmond citizens gave him a complimentary dinner, at which were drunk such toasts as: "the private cruisers of the united states--whose intrepidity has pierced the enemy's channels and bearded the lion in his den"; "neutral ports--whenever the tyrants of the ocean dare to invade these sanctuaries, may they meet with an 'essex' and an 'armstrong'"; and "captain reid--his valor has shed a blaze of renown upon the character of our seamen, and won for himself a laurel of eternal bloom." the newspapers of the times rang with eulogies of reid, and anecdotes of his seafaring experiences. but after all, as mcmaster finely says in his history: "the finest compliment of all was the effort made in england to keep the details of the battle from the public, and the false report of the british commander." in finally estimating the effect upon the american fortunes in the war of 1812, of the privateers and their work, many factors must be taken into consideration. at first sight it would seem that a system which gave the services of five hundred ships and their crews to the task of annoying the british, and inflicting damage upon their commerce without cost to the american government, must be wholly advantageous. we have already seen the losses inflicted upon british commerce by our privateers reflected in the rapidly increasing cost of marine insurance. while the statistics in the possession of the government are not complete, they show that twenty-five hundred vessels at least were captured during the war of 1812 by these privately-owned cruisers, and there can be no shadow of a doubt that the loss inflicted upon british merchants, and the constant state of apprehension for the safety of their vessels in which they were kept, very materially aided in extending among them a willingness to see peace made on almost any terms. but this is the other side of the story: the prime purpose of the privateer was to make money for its owners, its officers, and its crew. the whole design and spirit of the calling was mercenary. it inflicted damage on the enemy, but only incidentally to earning dividends for its participants. if government cruisers had captured twenty-five hundred british vessels, those vessels would have been lost to the enemy forever. but the privateer, seeking gains, tried to send them into port, however dangerous such a voyage might be, and accordingly, rather more than a third of them were recaptured by the enemy. we may note here in passing, that one reason why the so-called confederate privateers during our own civil war, did an amount of damage so disproportionate to their numbers, was that they were not, in fact, privateers at all. they were commissioned by the confederate government to inflict the greatest possible amount of injury upon northern commerce, and accordingly, when semmes or maffitt captured a united states vessel, he burned it on the spot. there was no question of profit involved in the service of the "alabama," the "florida," or the "shenandoah," and they have been called privateers in our histories, mainly because northern writers have been loath to concede, to what they called a rebel government, the right to equip and commission regular men-of-war. but to return to the american privateers of 1812. while, as i have pointed out, there were many instances of enormous gains being made, it is probable that the business as a whole, like all gambling businesses as a whole, was not profitable. some ships made lucky voyages, but there is on record in the navy department a list of three hundred vessels that took not one single prize in the whole year of 1813. the records of congress show that, as a whole, the business was not remunerative, because there were constant appeals from people interested. in response to this importunity, congress at one time paid a bounty of twenty-five dollars a head for all prisoners taken. at other times it reduced the import duties on cargoes captured and landed by privateers. indeed, it is estimated by a careful student, that the losses to the government in the way of direct expenditures and remission of revenues through the privateering system, amounted to a sum sufficient to have kept twenty sloops of war on the sea throughout the period of hostilities, and there is little doubt that such vessels could have actually accomplished more in the direction of harassing the enemy than the privateers. a very grave objection to the privateering system, however, was the fact that the promise of profit to sailors engaged in it was so great, that all adventurous men flocked into the service, so that it became almost impossible to maintain our army or to man our ships. i have already quoted george washington's objections to the practise during the revolution. during the war of 1812, some of our best frigates were compelled to sail half manned, while it is even declared that the loss of the "chesapeake" to the "shannon" was largely due to the fact that her crew were discontented and preparing, as their time of service was nearly up, to quit the government service for privateering. in a history of marblehead, one of the famous old seafaring towns of massachusetts, it is declared that of nine hundred men of that town who took part in the war, fifty-seven served in the army, one hundred and twenty entered the navy, while seven hundred and twenty-six shipped on the privateers. these figures afford a fair indication of the way in which the regular branches of the service suffered by the competition of the system of legalized piracy. **transcriber's notes: page 180: punctuation in diary normalized. page 184: change washingon to washington page 185: changed dicover to discover page 186: changed portugese to portuguese chapter vi. the arctic tragedy--american sailors in the frozen deep--the search for sir john franklin--reasons for seeking the north pole--testimony of scientists and explorers--pertinacity of polar voyagers--dr. kane and dr. hayes--charles f. hall, journalist and explorer--miraculous escape of his party--the ill-fated "jeannette" expedition--suffering and death of de long and his companions--a pitiful diary--the greely expedition--its careful plan and complete disaster--rescue of the greely survivors--peary, wellman, and baldwin. a chapter in the story of the american sailor, which, though begun full an hundred years ago, is not yet complete, is that which tells the narrative of the search for the north pole. it is a story of calm daring, of indomitable pertinacity, of patient endurance of the most cruel suffering, of heroic invitation to and acceptance of death. the story will be completed only when the goal is won. even as these words are being written, american sailors are beleaguered in the frozen north, and others are preparing to follow them thither, so that the narrative here set forth must be accepted as only a partial story of a quest still being prosecuted. in the private office of the president of the united states at washington, stands a massive oaken desk. it has been a passive factor in the making of history, for at it have eight presidents sat, and papers involving almost the life of the nation, have received the executive signature upon its smooth surface. the very timbers of which it is built were concerned in the making of history of another sort, for they were part of the frame of the stout british ship "resolute," which, after a long search in the polar regions for the hapless sir john franklin--of whom more hereafter--was deserted by her crew in the arctic pack, drifted twelve hundred miles in the ice, and was then discovered and brought back home as good as new by captain buddington of the stanch american whaler, "george and henry." the sympathies of all civilized peoples, and particularly of english-speaking races, were at that time strongly stirred by the fate of franklin and his brave companions, and so congress appropriated $40,000 for the purchase of the vessel from the salvors, and her repair. refitted throughout, she was sent to england and presented to the queen in 1856. years later, when broken up, the desk was made from her timbers and presented by order of victoria to the president of the united states, who at that time was rutherford b. hayes. it stands now in the executive mansion, an enduring memorial of one of the romances of a long quest full of romance--the search for the north pole. in all ages, the minds of men of the exploring and colonizing nations, have turned toward the tropics as the region of fabulous wealth, the field for profitable adventure. "the wealth of the ind," has passed into proverb. though exploration has shown that, it is the flinty north that hides beneath its granite bosom the richest stores of mineral wealth, almost four centuries of failure and disappointment were needed to rid men's minds of the notion that the jungles and the tropical forests were the most abundant hiding-places of gold and precious stones. the wild beauty of the tropics, the cloudless skies, the tangled thickets, ever green and rustling with a restless animal life, the content and amiability of the natives, combined in a picture irresistibly attractive to the adventurer. surely where there was so much beauty, so much of innocent joy in life, there must be the fountain of perpetual youth, there must be gold, and diamonds, and sapphires--all those gewgaws, the worship of which shows the lingering taint of barbarism in the civilized man, and for which the english, spanish, and portuguese adventurers of three centuries ago, were ready to sacrifice home and family, manhood, honor, and life. so it happened that in the early days of maritime adventure the course of the hardy voyagers was toward the tropics, and they made of the spanish main a sea of blood, while pizzarro and cortez, and after them the dreaded buccaneers, sacked towns, betrayed, murdered, and outraged, destroyed an ancient civilization and fairly blotted out a people, all in the mad search for gold. men only could have been guilty of such crimes, for man along, among animals endowed with life, kills for the mere lust of slaughter. and yet, man alone stands ready to risk his life for an idea, to brave the most direful perils, to endure the most poignant suffering that the world's store of knowledge may be increased, that science may be advanced, that just one more fact may be added to the things actually known. if the record of man in the tropics has been stained by theft, rapine, and murder, the story of his long struggle with the arctic ice, offers for his redemption a series of pictures of self-sacrifice, tenderness, honor, courage, and piety. no hope of profit drew the seamen of all maritime nations into the dismal and desolate ice-floes that guard the frozen north. no lust for gold impelled them to brave the darkness, the cold, and the terrifying silence of the six-months arctic night. the men who have--thus far unsuccessfully--fought with ice-bound nature for access to the pole, were impelled only by honorable emulation and scientific zeal. the earlier arctic explorers were not, it is true, searchers for the north pole. that quest--which has written in its history as many tales of heroism, self-sacrifice, and patient resignation to adversity, as the poets have woven about the story of chivalry and the search for the holy grail--was begun only in the middle of the last century, and by an american. but for three hundred years english, dutch, and portuguese explorers, and the stout-hearted american whalemen, had been pushing further and further into the frozen deep. the explorers sought the "northwest passage," or a water route around the northern end of north america, and so on to india and the riches of the east. sir john franklin, in the voyage that proved his last, demonstrated that such a passage could be made, but not for any practical or useful purpose. after him it was abandoned, and geographical research, and the struggle to reach the pole, became the motives that took men into the arctic. "but why," many people ask, with some reason, "should there be this determined search for the north pole. what good will come to the world with its discovery? is it worth while to go on year after year, pouring out treasure and risking human lives, merely that any hardy explorer may stand at an imaginary point on the earth's surface which is already fixed geographically by scientists?" let the scientists and the explorers answer, for to most of us the questions do not seem unreasonable. naturally, with the explorers' love for adventure, eagerness to see any impressive manifestations of nature's powers, and the ambition to attain a spot for which men have been striving for half a century, are the animating purposes. so we find fridjof nansen, who for a time held the record of having attained the "furthest north," writing on this subject to an enquiring editor: "when man ceases to wish to know and to conquer every foot of the earth, which was given him to live upon and to rule, then will the decadence of the race begin. of itself, that mathematical point which marks the northern termination of the axis of our earth, is of no more importance than any other point within the unknown polar area; but it is of much more importance that this particular point be reached, because there clings about it in the imagination of all mankind, such fascination that, till the pole is discovered, all arctic research must be affected, if not overshadowed, by the yearning to attain it." george w. melville, chief engineer of the united states navy, who did such notable service in the jeanette expedition of 1879, writes in words that stir the pulse: "is there a better school of heroic endeavor than the arctic zone? it is something to stand where the foot of man has never trod. it is something to do that which has defied the energy of the race for the last twenty years. it is something to have the consciousness that you are adding your modicum of knowledge to the world's store. it is worth a year of the life of a man with a soul larger than a turnip, to see a real iceberg in all its majesty and grandeur. it is worth some sacrifice to be alone, just once, amid the awful silence of the arctic snows, there to communicate with the god of nature, whom the thoughtful man finds best in solitude and silence, far from the haunts of men--alone with the creator." thus the explorers. the scientists look less upon the picturesque and exciting side of arctic exploration, and more upon its useful phases. "it helps to solve useful problems in the physics of the world," wrote professor todd of amherst college. "the meteorology of the united states to-day; perfection of theories of the earth's magnetism, requisite in conducting surveys and navigating ships; the origin and development of terrestrial fauna and flora; secular variation of climate; behavior of ocean currents--all these are fields of practical investigation in which the phenomena of the arctic and antarctic worlds play a very significant role." lieutenant maury, whose eminent services in mapping the ocean won him international honors, writes of the polar regions: "there icebergs are launched and glaciers formed. there the tides have their cradle, the whales their nursery. there the winds complete their circuits, and the currents of the sea their round in the wonderful system of inter-oceanic circulation. there the aurora borealis is lighted up, and the trembling needle brought to rest, and there, too, in the mazes of that mystic circle, terrestrial forces of occult power, and vast influence upon the well-being of men, are continually at play.... noble daring has made arctic ice and waters classic ground. it is no feverish excitement nor vain ambition that leads man there. it is a higher feeling, a holier motive, a desire to look into the works of creation, to comprehend the economy of our planet, and to grow wiser and better by the knowledge." nor can it be said fairly that the polar regions have failed to repay, in actual financial profit, their persistent invasion by man. it is estimated by competent statisticians, that in the last two centuries no less than two thousand million dollars' worth of furs, fish, whale-oil, whalebone, and minerals, have been taken out of the ice-bound seas. [illustration: "they fell down and died as they walked"] the full story--at once sorrowful and stimulating--of arctic exploration, can not be told here. that would require volumes rather than a single chapter. even the part played in it by americans can be sketched in outline only. but it is worth remembering that the systematic attack of our countrymen upon the arctic fortress, began with an unselfish and humane incentive. in 1845 sir john franklin, a gallant english seaman, had set sail with two stout ships and 125 men, to seek the northwest passage. thereafter no word was heard from him, until, years later, a searching party found a cairn of stones on a desolate, ice-bound headland, and in it a faintly written record, which told of the death of sir john and twenty-four of his associates. we know now, that all who set out on this ill-fated expedition, perished. struggling to the southward after abandoning their ships, they fell one by one, and their lives ebbed away on the cruel ice. "they fell down and died as they walked," said an old esquimau woman to lieutenant mcclintock, of the british navy, who sought for tidings of them, and, indeed, her report found sorrowful verification in the skeletons discovered years afterward, lying face downward in the snow. to the last man they died. think of the state of that last man--alone in the frozen wilderness! an eloquent writer, the correspondent mcgahan, himself no stranger to arctic pains and perils, has imagined that pitiful picture thus: "one sees this man after the death of his last remaining companion, all alone in that terrible world, gazing round him in mute despair, the sole, living thing in that dark frozen universe. the sky is somber, the earth whitened with a glittering whiteness that chills the heart. his clothing is covered with frozen snow, his face lean and haggard, his beard a cluster of icicles. the setting sun looks back to see the last victim die. he meets her sinister gaze with a steady eye, as though bidding her defiance. for a few minutes they glare at each other, then the curtain is drawn, and all is dark." as fears for franklin's safety deepened into certainty of his loss with the passage of months and years, a multitude of searching expeditions were sent out, the earlier ones in the hope of rescuing him; the later ones with the purpose of discovering the records of his voyage, which all felt sure must have been cached at some accessible point. americans took an active--almost a leading--part in these expeditions, braving in them the same perils which had overcome the stout english knight. by sea and by land they sought him. the story of the land expeditions, though full of interest, is foreign to the purpose of this work, and must be passed over with the mere note that charles f. hall, a cincinnati journalist, in 1868-69, and lieutenant schwatka, and w.h. gilder in 1878-79 fought their way northward to the path followed by the english explorer, found many relics of his expedition, and from the esquimaux gathered indisputable evidence of his fate. by sea the united states was represented in the search for franklin, by the ships "advance" and "rescue." they accomplished little of importance, but on the latter vessel was a young navy surgeon, dr. elisha kent kane, who was destined to make notable contributions to arctic knowledge, both as explorer and writer. one who studies the enormous volume of literature in which the arctic story is told, scarcely can fail to be impressed by the pertinacity with which men, after one experience in the polar regions, return again and again to the quest for adventure and honors in the ice-bound zone. the subaltern on the expedition of to-day, has no sooner returned than he sets about organizing a new expedition, of which he may be commander. the commander goes into the ice time and again until, perhaps, the time comes when he does not come out. the leader of a rescue party becomes the leader of an exploring expedition, which in its turn, usually comes to need rescue. so we find dr. kane, who was surgeon of an expedition for the rescue of franklin, commanding four years later the brig "advance," and voyaging northward through baffin's bay. narrowly, indeed, he escaped the fate of the man in the search for whom he had gained his first arctic experience. his ship, beset by ice, and sorely wounded, remained fixed and immovable for two years. at first the beleaguered men made sledge journeys in every direction for exploratory purposes, but the second year they sought rather by determined, though futile dashes across the rugged surface of the frozen sea, to find some place of refuge, some hope of emancipation from the thraldom of the ice. the second winter all of the brig except the hull, which served for shelter, was burned for fuel; two men had died, and many were sick of scurvy, the sledge dogs were all dead, and the end of the provisions was in sight. in may, 1855, a retreat in open boats, covering eighty-five days and over fifty miles of open sea, brought the survivors to safety. when men have looked into the jaws of death, it might be thought they would strenuously avoid such another view. but there is an arctic fever as well as an arctic chill, and, once in the blood, it drags its victim irresistibly to the frozen north, until perhaps he lays his bones among the icebergs, cured of all fevers forever. and so, a year or two after the narrow escape of dr. kane, the surgeon of his expedition, dr. isaac i. hayes, was hard at work fitting out an expedition of which he was to be commander, to return to baffin's bay and smith sound, and if possible, fight its way into that open sea, which dr. hayes long contended surrounded the north pole. no man in the kane expedition had encountered greater perils, or withstood more cruel suffering than dr. hayes. a boat trip which he made in search of succor, has passed into arctic history as one of the most desperate expedients ever adopted by starving men. but at the first opportunity he returned again to the scenes of his peril and his pain. his expedition, though conducted with spirit and determination, was not of great scientific value, as he was greatly handicapped in his observations by the death of his astronomer, who slipped through thin ice into the sea, and froze to death in his water-soaked garments. [illustration: "the treacherous ice-pack"] a most extraordinary record of daring and suffering in arctic exploration was made by charles f. hall, to whom i have already referred. beginning life as an engraver in cincinnati, he became engrossed in the study of arctic problems, as the result of reading the stories of the early navigators. every book bearing on the subject in the library of his native city, was eagerly read, and his enthusiasm infected some of the wealthy citizens, who gathered for his use a very considerable collection of volumes. mastering all the literature of the arctic, he determined to undertake himself the arduous work of the explorer. taking passage on a whaler, he spent several years among the esquimaux, living in their crowded and fetid _igloos_, devouring the blubber and uncooked fish that form their staple articles of diet, wearing their garb of furs, learning to navigate the treacherous kayak in tossing seas, to direct the yelping, quarreling team of dogs over fields of ice as rugged as the edge of some monstrous saw, studying the geography so far as known of the arctic regions, perfecting himself in all the arts by which man has contested the supremacy of that land with the ice-king. in 1870, with the assistance of the american geographical society, hall induced the united states government to fit him out an expedition to seek the north pole--the first exploring party ever sent out with that definite purpose. the steamer "polaris," a converted navy tug, which general greely says was wholly unfit for arctic service, was given him, and a scientific staff supplied by the government, for though hall had by painstaking endeavor qualified himself to lead an expedition, he had not enjoyed a scientific education. neither was he a sailor like delong, nor a man trained to the command of men like greely. enthusiasm and natural fitness with him took the place of systematic training. but with him, as with so many others in this world, the attainment of the threshold of his ambition proved to be but opening the door to death. by a sledge journey from his ship he reached cape brevoort, above latitude 82, at that time the farthest north yet attained, but the exertion proved too much for him, and he had scarcely regained his ship when he died. his name will live, however, in the annals of the arctic, for his contributions to geographical knowledge were many and precious. [illustration: the ship was caught in the ice pack] the men who survived him determined to continue his work, and the next summer two fought their way northward a few miles beyond the point attained by hall. but after this achievement the ship was caught in the ice-pack, and for two months drifted about, helpless in that unrelenting grasp. out of this imprisonment the explorers escaped through a disaster, which for a time put all their lives in the gravest jeopardy, and the details of which seem almost incredible. in october, when the long twilight which precedes the polar night, had already set in, there came a fierce gale, accompanied by a tossing, roaring sea. the pack, racked by the surges, which now raised it with a mighty force, and then rolling on, left it to fall unsupported, began to go to pieces. the whistling wind accelerated its destruction, driving the floes far apart, heaping them up against the hull of the ship until the grinding and the prodigious pressure opened her seams and the water rushed in. the cry that the ship was sinking rung along the decks, and all hands turned with desperate energy to throwing out on the ice-floe to windward, sledges, provisions, arms, records--everything that could be saved against the sinking of the ship, which all thought was at hand. nineteen of the ship's company were landed on the floe to carry the material away from its edge to a place of comparative safety. the peril seemed so imminent that the men in their panic performed prodigious feats of strength--lifting and handling alone huge boxes, which at ordinary times, would stagger two men. a driving, whirling snowstorm added to the gloom, confusion, and terror of the scene, shutting out almost completely those on the ice from the view of those still on the ship. in the midst of the work the cry was raised that the floes were parting, and with incredible rapidity the ice broke away from the ship on every side, so that communication between those on deck and those on the floe was instantly cut off by a broad interval of black and tossing water, while the dark and snow-laden air cut off vision on every side. the cries of those on the ice mingled with those from the fast vanishing ship, for each party thought itself in the more desperate case. the ice was fast going to pieces, and boats were plying in the lanes of water thus opened, picking up those clinging to smaller cakes of ice and transporting them to the main floe. on the ship the captain's call had summoned all hands to muster, and they gazed on each other in dumb despair as they saw how few of the ship's company remained. all were sent to the pumps, for the water in the hold was rising with ominous rapidity. the cry rang out that the steam-pumps must be started if the ship was to be saved, but long months had passed since any fire had blazed under those boilers, and to get up steam was a work of hours. with tar-soaked oakum and with dripping whale blubber the engineer strove to get the fires roaring, the while the men on deck toiled with desperate energy at the hand-pumps. but the water gained on them. the ship sunk lower and lower in the black ocean, until a glance over the side could tell all too plainly that she was going to her fate. now the water begins to ooze through the cracks in the engine-room floor, and break in gentle ripples about the feet of the firemen. if it rises much higher it will flood the fire-boxes, and then all will be over, for there is not one boat left on the ship--all were landed on the now invisible floe. but just as all hope was lost there came a faint hissing of steam, the pumps began slowly moving, and then settled down into their monotonous "chug-chug," the sweetest sound, that day, those desperate mariners had ever heard. they were saved by the narrowest of chances. [illustration: adrift on an ice-floe] we must pass hastily to the sequel of this seemingly irreparable disaster. the "polaris" was beached, winter quarters established, and those who had clung to the ship spent the winter building boats, in which, the following spring, they made their way southward until picked up by a whaler. those on the floe drifted at the mercy of the wind and tide 195 days, making over 1300 miles to the southward. as the more temperate latitudes were reached, and the warmer days of spring came on, the floe began going to pieces, and they were continually confronted with the probability of being forced to their boat for safety--one boat, built to hold eight, and now the sole reliance of nineteen people. it is hard to picture through the imagination the awful strain that day and night rested upon the minds of these hapless castaways. never could they drop off to sleep except in dread that during the night the ice on which they slept, might split, even under their very pallets, and they be awakened by the deathly plunge into the icy water. day and night they were startled and affrighted by the thunderous rumblings and cracking of the breaking floe--a sound that an experienced arctic explorer says is the most terrifying ever heard by man, having in it something of the hoarse rumble of heavy artillery, the sharp and murderous crackle of machine guns, and a kind of titanic grinding, for which there is no counterpart in the world of tumult. living thus in constant dread of death, the little company drifted on, seemingly miraculously preserved. their floe was at last reduced from a great sheet of ice, perhaps a mile or more square, to a scant ten yards by seventy-five, and this rapidly breaking up. in two days four whalers passed near enough for them to see, yet failed to see them, but finally their frantic signals attracted attention, and they were picked up--not only the original nineteen who had begun the drift six months earlier, but one new and helpless passenger, for one of the esquimau women had given birth to a child while on the ice. the next notable arctic expedition from the united states had its beginning in journalistic enterprise. mr. james gordon bennett, owner of the _new york herald_, who had already manifested his interest in geographical work by sending henry m. stanley to find livingston in the heart of the dark continent, fitted out the steam yacht "pandora," which had already been used in arctic service, and placed her at the disposal of lieutenant delong, u.s.n., for an arctic voyage. the name of the ship was changed to "jeannette," and control of the expedition was vested in the united states government, though mr. bennett's generosity defrayed all charges. the vessel was manned from the navy, and engineer melville, destined to bear a name great among arctic men, together with two navy lieutenants, were assigned to her. the voyage planned was then unique among american arctic expeditions, for instead of following the conventional route north through baffin's bay and smith sound, the "jeannette" sailed from san francisco and pushed northward through bering sea. in july, 1879, she weighed anchor. two years after, no word having been heard of her meanwhile, the inevitable relief expedition was sent out--the steamer "rodgers," which after making a gallant dash to a most northerly point, was caught in the ice-pack and there burned to the water's edge, her crew, with greatest difficulty, escaping, and reaching home without one ray of intelligence of delong's fate. that fate was bitter indeed, a trial by cold, starvation, and death, fit to stand for awesomeness beside greely's later sorrowful story. from the very outset evil fortune had attended the "jeannette." planning to winter on wrangle land--then thought to be a continent--delong caught in the ice-pack, was carried past its northern end, thus proving it to be an island, indeed, but making the discovery at heavy cost. winter in the pack was attended with severe hardships and grave perils. under the influence of the ocean currents and the tides, the ice was continually breaking up and shifting, and each time the ship was in imminent danger of being crushed. in his journal delong tries to describe the terrifying clamor of a shifting pack. "i know of no sound on shore that can be compared with it," he writes. "a rumble, a shriek, a groan, and the crash of a falling house all combined, might serve to convey an idea of the noise with which this motion of the ice-floe is accompanied. great masses from fifteen to twenty-five feet in height, when up-ended, are sliding along at various angles of elevation and jam, and between and among them are large and confused masses of débris, like a marble yard adrift. occasionally a stoppage occurs; some piece has caught against or under our floe; there follows a groaning and crackling, our floe bends and humps up in places like domes. crash! the dome splits, another yard of floe edge breaks off, the pressure is relieved, and on goes again the flowing mass of rumbles, shrieks, groans, etc., for another spell." [illustration: delong's men dragging their boats over the ice] time and again this nerve-racking experience was encountered. more than once serious leaks were started in the ship, which had to be met by working the pumps and building false bulwarks in the hold; but by the exercise of every art known to sailors, she was kept afloat and tenable until june 11, 1881, when a fierce and unexpected nip broke her fairly in two, and she speedily sunk. there followed weeks and months of incessant and desperate struggling with sledge and boat against the forces of polar nature. the ship had sunk about 150 miles from what are known as the new siberian islands, for which delong then laid his course. the ice was rugged, covered with soft snow, which masked treacherous pitfalls, and full of chasms which had to be bridged. five sleds and three boats were dragged by almost superhuman exertions, the sick feebly aiding the sturdy in the work. imagine the disappointment, and despair of the leader, when, after a full week of this cruel labor, with provisions ever growing more scanty, an observation showed him they were actually twenty-eight miles further away from their destination than when they started! while they were toiling south, the ice-floe over which they were plodding was drifting more rapidly north. _nil desperandum_ must ever be the watchword of arctic expeditions, and delong, saying nothing to the others of his discovery, changed slightly the course of his march and labored on. july 19 they reached an island hitherto unknown, which was thereupon named bennett island. a curious feature of the toilsome march across the ice, was that, though the temperature seldom rose to the freezing point, the men complained bitterly of the heat and suffered severely from sun-burn. [illustration: delong's men dragging their boats over the ice] at bennett island they took to the boats, for now open water was everywhere visible. delong was making for the lena river in siberia, where there were known to be several settlements, but few of his party were destined to reach it. in a furious storm, on the 12th of september, the three boats were separated. one, commanded by lieutenant chipp, with eight men, must have foundered, for it was never again heard of. a second, commanded by george w. melville, afterward chief engineer of the united states navy, found one of the mouths of the lena river, and ascending it reached a small siberian village. happy would it have been had delong and his men discovered the same pathway to safety, but the lena is like our own mississippi, a river with a broad delta and a multiplicity of mouths. into an estuary, the banks of which were untrodden by man, and which itself was too shallow for navigation for any great distance, remorseless fate led delong. forced soon to take to their sleds again, his companions toiled painfully along the river bank, with no known destination, but bearing ever to the south--the only way in which hope could possibly lie. deserted huts and other signs of former human habitation were plenty, but nothing living crossed their path. at last, the food being at the point of exhaustion, and the men too weary and weak for rapid travel, delong chose two of the sturdiest, nindemann and noros, and sent them ahead in the hope that they might find and return with succor. the rest stumbled on behind, well pleased if they could advance three miles daily. food gave out, then strength. resignation took the place of determination. delong's journal for the last week of life is inexpressibly pitiful: "sunday, october 23--133d day: everybody pretty weak. slept or rested all day, and then managed to get in enough wood before dark. read part of divine service. suffering in our feet. no foot-gear. "monday, october 24--134th day: a hard night. "tuesday, october 25--135th day. "wednesday, october 26--136th day. "thursday, october 27--137th day: iverson broken down. "friday, october 28--138th day: iverson died during early morning. "saturday, october 29th--139th day: dressier died during the night. "sunday, october 30--140th day: boyd and cortz died during the night. mr. collins dying." this is the last entry. the hand that penned it, as the manuscript shows, was as firm and steady as though the writer were sitting in his library at home. words are spelled out in full, punctuation carefully observed. how long after these words were set down delong too died, none may ever know; but when melville, whom nindemann and noros had found after sore privations, reached the spot of the death camp, he came upon a sorrowful scene. "i came upon the bodies of three men partly buried in the snow," he writes, "one hand reaching out, with the left arm of the man reaching way above the surface of the snow--his whole left arm. i immediately recognized them as captain delong, dr. ambler, and ah sam, the cook.... i found the journal about three or four feet in the rear of delong--that is, it looked as though he had been lying down, and with his left hand tossed the book over his shoulder to the rear, or to the eastward of him." how these few words bring the whole scene up before us! last, perhaps, of all to die, lying by the smoldering fire, the ashes of which were in the middle of the group of bodies when found, delong puts down the final words which tell of the obliteration of his party, tosses the book wearily over his shoulder, and turns on his side to die. and then the snow, falling gently, pitifully covers the rigid forms and holds them in its pure embrace until loyal friends seek them out, and tell to the world that again brave lives have been sacrificed to the ogre of the arctic. while delong and his gallant comrades of the united states navy were dying slowly in the bleak desert of the lena delta, another party of brave americans were pushing their way into the arctic circle on the atlantic side of the north american continent. the story of that starvation camp in desolate siberia was to be swiftly repeated on the shores of smith sound, and told this time with more pathetic detail, for of greely's expedition, numbering twenty-five, seven were rescued after three years of arctic suffering and starving, helpless, and within one day of death. they had seen their comrades die, destroyed by starvation and cold, and passing away in delirium, babbling of green fields and plenteous tables. from the doorway of the almost collapsed tent, in which the seven survivors were found, they could see the row of shallow graves in which their less fortunate comrades lay interred--all save two, whom they had been too weak to bury. no story of the arctic which has come to us from the lips of survivors, has half the pathos, or a tithe of the pitiful interest, possessed by this story of greely. studying to-day the history of the greely expedition, it seems almost as if a malign fate had determined to bring disaster upon him. his task was not so arduous as a determined search for the pole, or the northwest passage. he was ordered by the united states government to establish an observation station on lady franklin bay, and remain there two years, conducting, meanwhile, scientific observations, and pressing exploratory work with all possible zeal. the enterprise was part of a great international plan, by which each of the great nations was to establish and maintain such an observation station within the arctic circle, while observations were to be carried on in all at once. the united states agreed to maintain two such stations, and the one at point barrow, north of alaska, was established, maintained, and its tenants brought home at the end of the allotted time without disaster. greely was a lieutenant in the united states army, and his expedition was under the immediate direction of the secretary of war--at that time robert lincoln, son of the great war president. some criticism was expressed at the time and, indeed, still lingers in the books of writers on the subject, concerning the fitness of an army officer to direct an arctic voyage. but the purpose of the expedition was largely to collect scientific facts bear-on weather, currents of air and sea, the duration and extent of magnetic and electrical disturbances--in brief, data quite parallel to those which the united states signal service collects at home. so the greely expedition was made an adjunct to the signal service, which in its turn is one of the bureaus of the war department. two army lieutenants, lockwood and klingsbury, and twenty men from the rank and file of the army and signal corps, were selected to form the party. an astronomer was needed, and edward israel, a young graduate of the university of michigan, volunteered. george w. rice volunteered as photographer. both were enlisted in the army and given the rank of sergeant. it is doubtful if any polar expedition was ever more circumstantially planned--none has resulted more disastrously, save sir john franklin's last voyage. the instructions of the war department were as explicit as human foresight and a genius for detail could make them. greely was to proceed to some point on lady franklin bay, which enters the mainland of north america at about 81° 44' north latitude, build his station, and prepare for a two-years' stay. provisions for three years were supplied him. at the end of one year it was promised, a relief ship should be sent him, which failing for any cause to reach the station, would cache supplies and dispatches at specified points. a year later a second relief ship would be sent to bring the party home, and if for any reason this ship should fail to make the station, then greely was to break camp and sledge to the southward, following the east coast of the mainland, until he met the vessel, or reached the point at which fresh supplies were to be cached. no plan could have been better devised--none ever failed more utterly. arctic travel is an enigma, and it is an enigma never to be solved twice in the same way. whalers, with the experience of a lifetime in the frozen waters, agree that the lessons of one voyage seldom prove infallible guides for the conduct of the next. lieutenant schwatka, a veteran arctic explorer, said in an official document that the teachings of experience were often worse than useless in polar work. and so, though the washington authorities planned for the safety of greely according to the best guidance that the past could give them, their plans failed completely. the first relief ship did, indeed, land some stores--never, as the issue showed, to be reached by greely--but the second expedition, composed of two ships, the "proteus" and the "yantic," accomplished nothing. the station was not reached, practically no supplies were landed, the "proteus" was nipped by the ice and sunk, and the remnant of the expedition came supinely home, reporting utter failure. it is impossible to acquit the commanders of the two ships engaged in this abortive relief expedition of a lack of determination, a paucity of courage, complete incompetence. they simply left greely to his fate while time still remained for his rescue, or at least for the convenient deposit of the vast store of provisions they brought home, leaving the abandoned explorers to starve. the history of the greely expedition and its achievements may well be sketched hastily, before the story of the catastrophe which overwhelmed it is told. as it was the most tragic of expeditions save one, sir john franklin's, so, too, it was the most fruitful in results, of any american expedition to the time of the writing of this book. proceeding by the whaler "proteus" in august, 1881, to the waters of the arctic zone, greely reached his destination with but little trouble, and built a commodious and comfortable station on the shores of discovery bay, which he called fort conger after a united states senator from michigan. a month remained before the arctic night would set in, but the labor of building the house left little time for explorations, which were deferred until the following summer. life at the station was not disagreeable. the house, stoutly built, withstood the bitter cold. within there were books and games, and through the long winter night the officers beguiled the time with lectures and reading. music was there, too, in impressive quantity, if not quality. "an organette with about fifty yards of music," writes lieutenant greely, "afforded much amusement, being particularly fascinating to our esquimau, who never wearied grinding out one tune after another." the rigid routine of arctic winter life was followed day by day, and the returning sun, after five months' absence, found the party in perfect health and buoyant spirits. the work of exploration on all sides began, the explorers being somewhat handicapped by the death of many of the sledge dogs from disease. lieutenant greely, dr. pavy, and lieutenant lockwood each led a party, but to the last named belong the honors, for he, with sergeant brainard and an esquimau, made his way northward over ice that looked like a choppy sea suddenly frozen into the rigidity of granite, until he reached latitude 83° 24' north--the most northerly point then attained by any man--and still the record marking arctic journey for an american explorer. winter came again under depressing circumstances. the first relief ship promised had not arrived, and the disappointment of the men deepened into apprehension lest the second, also, should fail them. yet they went through the second winter in good health and unshaken morale, though one can not read such portions of greely's diary as he has published, without seeing that the irritability and jealousy that seem to be the inevitable accompaniments of long imprisonment in an arctic station, began to make their appearance. with the advent of spring the commander began to make his preparations for a retreat to the southward. if he had not then felt entire confidence in the promise of the war department to relieve him without fail that summer, he would have begun his retreat early, and beyond doubt have brought all his men to safety before another winter set in or his provisions fell low. but as it was, he put off the start to the last moment, keeping up meanwhile the scientific work of the expedition, and sending out one party to cache supplies along the route of retreat. august 9, 1883, the march began--just two years after they had entered the frozen deep--greely hoping to meet the relief ship oh the way. he did not know that three weeks before she had been nipped in the ice-pack, and sunk, and that her consort, the "yantic," had gone impotently home, without even leaving food for the abandoned explorers. over ice-fields and across icy and turbulent water, the party made its way for five hundred miles--four hundred miles of boating and one hundred of sledging--fifty-one days of heroic exertion that might well take the courage out of the stoutest heart. sledging in the arctic over "hummock" ice is, perhaps, the most wearing form of toil known to man, and with such heavy loads as greely carried, every mile had to be gone over twice, and sometimes three times, as the men would be compelled to leave part of the load behind and go back after it. yet the party was cheerful, singing and joking at their work, as one of the sergeants records. finally they reached the vicinity of cape sabine, all in good health, with instruments and records saved, and with arms and ammunition enough to procure ample food in a land well stocked with game. but they did not worry very much about food, though their supply was by this time growing low. was not cape sabine the spot at which the relief expeditions were to cache food, and could it be possible that the great united states government would fail twice in an enterprise which any yankee whaler would gladly take a contract to fulfill? and so the men looked upon the wilderness, and noted the coming on of the arctic night again without fear, if with some disappointment. less than forty days' rations remained. eight months must elapse before any relief expedition could reach their camp, and far away in the united states the people were crying out in hot indignation that the authorities were basely leaving greely and his devoted companions to their fate. pluckily the men set about preparing for the long winter. three huts of stone and snow were planned, and while they were building, the hunters of the party scoured the neighboring ice-floes and pools for game--foxes, ptarmigan, and seals. there were no mistaken ideas concerning their deadly peril. every man knew that if game failed, or if the provisions they hoped had been cached by the relief expeditions somewhere in the vicinity, could not be found, they might never leave that spot alive. day by day the size of the rations was reduced. october 2 enough for thirty-five days remained, and at the request of the men, greely so changed the ration as to provide for forty-five days. october 5 lieutenant lockwood noted in his diary: "we have now three chances for our lives: first, finding american cache sufficient at sabine or at isabella; second, of crossing the straits when our present ration is gone; third, of shooting sufficient seal and walrus near by here to last during the winter." how delusive the first chance proved we shall see later. the second was impractical, for the current carried the ice through the strait so fast, that any party trying to cross the floe, would have been carried south to where the strait widened out into baffin's bay before they could possibly pass the twenty-five miles which separated cape sabine from littleton island. moreover, there was no considerable cache at the latter point, as greely thought. as for the hunting, it proved a desperate chance, though it did save the lives of such of the party as were rescued. all feathered game took flight for the milder regions of the south when the night set in. the walrus which the hunters shot--two, greely said, would have supplied food for all winter--and the seal sunk in almost every instance before the game could be secured. the first, and most hopeful chance, was the discovery of cached provisions at cape sabine. to put this to the test, rice, the photographer, who, though a civilian, proved to be one of the most determined and efficient men in the party, had already started for sabine with jens, the esquimau. october 9 they returned, bringing the record of the sinking of the "proteus," and the intelligence that there were about 1300 rations at, or near cape sabine. the record left at cape sabine by garlington, the commander of the "proteus" expedition, and which rice brought back to the camp, read in part: "depot landed ... 500 rations of bread, tea, and a lot of canned goods. cache of 250 rations left by the english expedition of 1882 visited by me and found in good condition. cache on littleton island. boat at isabella. u.s.s. 'yantic' on way to littleton island with orders not to enter the ice. i will endeavor to communicate with these vessels at once.... everything in the power of man will be done to rescue the (greely's) brave men." this discovery changed greely's plans again. it was hopeless to attempt hauling the ten or twelve thousand pounds of material believed to be at cape sabine, to the site of the winter camp, now almost done, so greely determined to desert that station and make for cape sabine, taking with him all the provisions and material he could drag. in a few days his party was again on the march across the frozen sea. how inscrutable and imperative are the ways of fate! looking backward now on the pitiful story of the greely party, we see that the second relief expedition, intended to succor and to rescue these gallant men, was in fact the cause of their overwhelming disaster--and this not wholly because of errors committed in its direction, though they were many. when greely abandoned the station at fort conger, he could have pressed straight to the southward without halt, and perhaps escaped with all his party--he could, indeed, have started earlier in the summer, and made escape for all certain. but he relied on the relief expedition, and held his ground until the last possible moment. even after reaching cape sabine he might have taken to the boats and made his way southward to safety, for he says himself that open water was in sight; but the cheering news brought by rice of a supply of provisions, and the promise left by garlington, that all that men could do would be done for his rescue, led him to halt his journey at cape sabine, and go into winter quarters in the firm conviction that already another vessel was on the way to aid him. he did not know that garlington had left but few provisions out of his great store, that the "yantic" had fled without landing an ounce of food, and that the authorities at washington had concluded that nothing more could be done that season--although whalers frequently entered the waters where greely lay trapped, at a later date than that which saw the "yantic's" precipitate retreat. had he known these things, he says himself, "i should certainly have turned my back to cape sabine and starvation, to face a possible death on the perilous voyage along shore to the southward." but not knowing them, he built a hut, and prepared to face the winter. it is worth noting, as evidence that arctic hardships themselves, when not accompanied by a lack of food, are not unbearable, that at this time, after two years in the region of perpetual ice, the whole twenty-five men were well, and even cheerful. depression and death came only when the food gave out. the permanent camp, which for many of the party was to be a tomb, was fixed a few miles from cape sabine, by the side of a pool of fresh water--frozen, of course. here a hut was built with stone walls three feet high, rafters made of oars with the blades cut off, and a canvas roof, except in the center, where an upturned whaleboat made a sort of a dome. only under the whaleboat could a man get on his knees and hold himself erect; elsewhere the heads of the tall men touched the roof when they sat up in their sleeping bags on the dirt floor. with twenty-five men in sleeping bags, which they seldom left, two in each bag, packed around the sides of the hut, a stove fed with stearine burning in the center for the cooking of the insufficient food to which they were reduced, and all air from without excluded, the hut became a place as much of torture as of refuge. the problem of food and the grim certainty of starvation were forced upon them with the very first examination of the caches of which garlington had left such encouraging reports. at cape isabella only 144 pounds of meat was found, in garlington's cache only 100 rations instead of 500 as he had promised. moldy bread and dog biscuits fairly green with mold, though condemned by greely, were seized by the famished men, and devoured ravenously without a thought of their unwholesomeness. when november 1 came, the daily ration for each man was fixed at six ounces of bread, four ounces of meat, and four ounces of vegetables--about a quarter of what would be moderate sustenance for a healthy man. by keeping the daily issue of food down to this pitiful amount greely calculated that he would have enough to sustain life until the first of march, when with ten days' double rations still remaining, he would make an effort to cross the strait to littleton island, where he thought--mistakenly--that lieutenant garlington awaited him with ample stores. of course all game shot added to the size of the rations, and that the necessary work of hunting might be prosecuted, the hunters were from the first given extra rations to maintain, their strength. fuel, too, offered a serious problem. alcohol, stearine, and broken wood from a whaleboat and barrels, were all employed. in order to get the greatest heat from the wood it was broken up into pieces not much larger than matches. and yet packed into that noisome hovel, ill-fed and ill-clothed, with the arctic wind roaring outside, the temperature within barely above freezing, and a wretched death staring each man in the face, these men were not without cheerfulness. lying almost continually in their sleeping bags, they listened to one of their number reading aloud; such books as "pickwick papers," "a history of our own times," and "two on a tower." greely gave daily a lecture on geography of an hour or more; each man related, as best he could, the striking facts about his own state and city and, indeed, every device that ingenuity could suggest, was employed to divert their minds and wile away the lagging hours. birthdays were celebrated by a little extra food--though toward the end a half a gill of rum for the celebrant, constituted the whole recognition of the day. the story of christmas day is inexpressibly touching as told in the simple language of greely's diary: "our breakfast was a thin pea-soup, with seal blubber, and a small quantity of preserved potatoes. later two cans of cloudberries were served to each mess, and at half-past one o'clock long and frederick commenced cooking dinner, which consisted of a seal stew, containing seal blubber, preserved potatoes and bread, flavored with pickled onions; then came a kind of rice pudding, with raisins, seal blubber, and condensed milk. afterward we had chocolate, followed later by a kind of punch made of a gill of rum and a quarter of a lemon to each man.... everybody was required to sing a song or tell a story, and pleasant conversation with the expression of kindly feelings, was kept up until midnight." [illustration: an arctic house] but that comparative plenty and good cheer did not last long. in a few weeks the unhappy men, or such as still clung to life, were living on a few shrimps, pieces of sealskin boots, lichens, and even more offensive food. the shortening of the ration, and the resulting hunger, broke down the moral sense of some, and by one device or another, food was stolen. only two or three were guilty of this crime--an execrable one in such an emergency--and one of these, private henry, was shot by order of lieutenant greely toward the end of the winter. even before christmas, casualties which would have been avoided, had the party been well-nourished and strong, began. ellison, in making a gallant dash for the cache at isabella, was overcome by cold and fatigue, and froze both his hands and feet so that in time they dropped off. only the tender care of frederick, who was with him, and the swift rush of lockwood and brainard to his aid, saved him from death. it tells a fine story of the unselfish devotion of the men, that this poor wreck, maimed and helpless, so that he had to be fed, and incapable of performing one act in his own service, should have been nursed throughout the winter, fed with double portions, and actually saved living until the rescue party arrived, while many of those who cared for him yielded up their lives. the first to die was cross, of scurvy and starvation, and he was buried in a shallow grave near the hut, all hands save ellison turning out to honor his memory. though the others clung to life with amazing tenacity, illness began to make inroads upon them, the gallant lockwood, for example, spending weeks in greely's sleeping bag, his mind wandering, his body utterly exhausted. but it was april before the second death occurred--one of the esquimaux. "action of water on the heart caused by insufficient nutrition," was the doctor's verdict--in a word, but a word all dreaded to hear, starvation. thereafter the men went fast. in a day or two christiansen, an esquimau, died. rice, the sharer of his sleeping bag, was forced to spend a night enveloped in a bag with the dead body. the next day he started on a sledging trip to seek some beef cached by the english years earlier. before the errand was completed, he, too, died, freezing to death in the arms of his companion, frederick, who held him tenderly until the last, and stripped himself to the shirtsleeves in the icy blast, to warm his dying comrade. then lockwood died--the hero of the farthest north; then jewell. jens, the untiring esquimau hunter, was drowned, his kayak being cut by the sharp edge of a piece of ice. ellis, whisler, israel, the astronomer, and dr. pavy, the surgeon, one by one, passed away. but why continue the pitiful chronicle? to tell the story in detail is impossible here--to tell it baldly and hurriedly, means to omit from it all that makes the narrative of the last days of the greely expedition worth reading; the unflagging courage of most of the men, the high sense of honor that characterized them, the tenderness shown to the sick and helpless, the pluck and endurance of long and brainard, the fierce determination of greely, that come what might, the records of his expedition should be saved, and its honor bequeathed unblemished to the world. and so through suffering and death, despairing perhaps, but never neglecting through cowardice or lethargy, any expedient for winning the fight against death, the party, daily growing smaller, fought its way on through winter and spring, until that memorable day in june, when colwell cut open the tent and saw, as the first act of the rescued sufferers, two haggard, weak, and starving men pouring all that was left of the brandy, down the throat of one a shade more haggard and weak than they. men of english lineage are fond of telling the story of the meeting of stanley and dr. livingston in the depths of the african jungle. for years livingston had disappeared from the civilized world. everywhere apprehension was felt lest he had fallen a victim to the ferocity of the savages, or to the pestilential climate. the world rung with speculations concerning his fate. stanley, commissioned to solve the mystery, by the same america journalist who sent delong into the arctic, had cut his path through the savages and the jungle, until at the door of a hut in a clearing, he saw a white man who could be none but him whom he sought, for in all that dark and gloomy forest there was none other of white skin. then anglo-saxon stolidity asserted itself. men of latin race would have rushed into each others' arms with loud rejoicings. not so these twain. "dr. livingston, i believe," said the newcomer, with the air of greeting an acquaintance on fifth avenue. "i am mr. stanley." "i am glad to see you," was the response, and it might have taken place in a drawing-room for all the emotion shown by either man. [illustration: an esquimau] that was a dramatic meeting in the tropical jungles, but history will not give second place to the encounter of the advance guard of the greely relief expedition with the men they sought. the story is told with dramatic directness in commander (now admiral) schley's book, "the rescue of greely." "it was half-past eight in the evening as the cutter steamed around the rocky bluff of cape sabine, and made her way to the cove, four miles further on, which colwell remembered so well.... the storm which had been raging with only slight intervals since early the day before, still kept up, and the wind was driving in bitter gusts through the opening in the ridge that followed the coast to the westward. although the sky was overcast it was broad daylight--the daylight of a dull winter afternoon.... at last the boat arrived at the site of the wreck cache, and the shore was eagerly scanned, but nothing could be seen. rounding the next point, the cutter opened out the cove beyond. there on the top of a little ridge, fifty or sixty yards above the ice-foot, was plainly outlined the figure of a man. instantly the coxswain caught up his boathook and waved his flag. the man on the ridge had seen them, for he stooped, picked up a signal flag, and waved it in reply. then he was seen coming slowly and cautiously down the steep rocky slope. twice he fell down before he reached the foot. as he approached, still walking slowly and with difficulty, colwell hailed him from the bow of the boat. "'who all are there left?' "'seven left.' "as the cutter struck the ice colwell jumped off, and went up to him. he was a ghastly sight. his cheeks were hollow, his eyes wild, his hair and beard long and matted. his army blouse, covering several thicknesses of shirts and jackets, was ragged and dirty. he wore a little fur cap and rough moccasins of untanned leather tied around the leg. as he spoke his utterance was thick and mumbling, and in his agitation his jaws worked in convulsive twitches. as the two met, the man, with a sudden impulse, took off his gloves and shook colwell's hand. "'where are they?' asked colwell, briefly. "'in the tent,' said the man, pointing over his shoulder, 'over the hill--the tent's down.' "'is mr. greely alive?' "'yes, greely's alive.' "'any other officers?' "'no.' then he repeated absently, 'the tent's down.' "'who are you?' "'long.' "before this colloquy was over lowe and norman had started up the hill. hastily filling his pockets with bread, and taking the two cans of pemmican, colwell told the coxswain to take long into the cutter, and started after the others with ash. reaching the crest of the ridge and looking southward, they saw spread out before them a desolate expanse of rocky ground, sloping gradually from a ridge on the east to the ice-bound shore, which on the west made in and formed a cove. back of the level space was a range of hills rising up eight hundred feet with a precipitous face, broken in two by a gorge, through which the wind was blowing furiously. on a little elevation directly in front was the tent. hurrying on across the intervening hollow, colwell came up with lowe and norman just as they were greeting a soldierly-looking man who had come out of the tent. "as colwell approached, norman was saying to the man: 'there is the lieutenant.' "and he added to lieutenant colwell: "'this is sergeant brainard.' "brainard immediately drew himself up to the position of the soldier, and was about to salute, when colwell took his hand. "at this moment there was a confused murmur within the tent, and a voice said: 'who's there?' "norman answered, 'it's norman--norman who was in the "proteus."' "this was followed by cries of 'oh, it's norman,' and a sound like a feeble cheer. "meanwhile one of the relief party, who in his agitation and excitement was crying like a child, was down on his knees trying to roll away the stones that held the flapping tent-cloth.... colwell called for a knife, cut a slit in the tent-cover, and looked in. it was a sight horror. on one side, close to the opening, with his face toward the opening, lay what was apparently a dead man. his jaw had dropped, his eyes were open, but fixed and glassy, his limbs were motionless. on the opposite side was a poor fellow, alive to be sure, but without hands or feet, and with a spoon tied to the stump of his right arm. two others, seated on the ground in the middle, had just got down a rubber bottle that hung on the tent pole, and were pouring from it into a tin can. directly opposite, on his hands and knees, was a dark man, with a long matted beard, in a dirty and tattered dressing-gown, with a little red tattered skull-cap on his head, and brilliant, staring eyes. as colwell appeared he raised himself a little and put on a pair of eye-glasses. "'who are you?' asked colwell. "the man made no reply, staring at him vacantly. "'who are you?' again. "one of the men spoke up. 'that's the major--major greely." "colwell crawled in and took him by the hand, saying: 'greely, is this you?' "'yes,' said greely in a faint voice, hesitating and shuffling with his words, 'yes--seven of us left--here we are--dying--like men. did what i came to do--beat the best record.' "then he fell back exhausted." slowly and cautiously the men were nursed back to life and health--all save poor ellison, whose enfeebled constitution could not stand the shock of the necessary amputation of his mutilated limbs. the nine bodies buried in the shallow graves were exhumed and taken to the ship, private henry's body being found lying where it fell at the moment of his execution. at that time the castaways were too feeble to give even hasty sepulture to their dead. a horrible circumstance, reported by commander schley himself, was that the flesh of many of the bodies was cut from the bones--by whom, and for what end of cannibalism, can only be conjectured. following the disaster to the greely expedition, came a period of lethargy in polar exploration, and when the work was taken up again, it was in ways foreign to the purpose of this book. foreigners for a time led in activity, and in 1895 fridjof nansen in his drifting ship, the "fram," attained the then farthest north, latitude 86° 14', while rudolph andree, in 1897, put to the test the desperate expedient of setting out for the pole in a balloon from dane's island, spitzbergen; but the wind that bore him swiftly out of sight, has never brought back again tidings of his achievement or his fate. nansen's laurels were wrested from him in 1900 by the duke of abruzzi, who reached 86° 33' north. the stories of these brave men are fascinating and instructive, but they are no part of the story of the american sailor. indeed, the sailor is losing his importance as an explorer in the arctic. it has become clear enough to all that it is not to be a struggle between stout ships and crushing ice, but rather a test of the endurance of men and dogs, pushing forward over solid floes of heaped and corrugated ice, toward the long-sought goal. two americans in late years have made substantial progress toward the conquest of the polar regions. mr. walter wellman, an eminent journalist, has made two efforts to reach the pole, but met with ill-luck and disaster in each, though in the first he attained to latitude 81° to the northeast of spitzbergen, and in the second he discovered and named many new islands about franz josef land. most pertinacious of all the american explorers, however, has been lieutenant robert e. peary, u.s.n., who since 1886, has been going into the frozen regions whenever the opportunity offered--and when none offered he made one. his services in exploration and in mapping out the land and seas to the north of greenland have been of the greatest value to geographical science, and at the moment of writing this book he is wintering at cape sabine, where the greely survivors were found, awaiting the coming of summer to make a desperate dash for the goal, sought for a century, but still secure in its wintry fortifications, the geographical pole. nor is he wholly alone, either in his ambition or his patience. evelyn b. baldwin, a native of illinois, with an expedition equipped by william zeigler, of new york, and made up of americans, is wintering at alger island, near franz josef land, awaiting the return of the sun to press on to the northward. it is within the bounds of possibility that before this volume is fairly in the hands of its readers, the fight may be won and the stars and stripes wave over that mysterious spot that has awakened the imagination and stimulated the daring of brave men of all nations. chapter vii. the great lakes--their share in the maritime traffic of the united states--the earliest recorded voyagers--indians and fur traders--the pigmy canal at the sault ste. marie--beginnings of navigation by sails--de la salle and the "griffin"--recollections of early lake seamen--the lakes as a highway for westward emigration--the first steamboat--effect of mineral discoveries on lake superior--the ore-carrying fleet--the whalebacks--the seamen of the lakes--the great canal at the "soo"--the channel to buffalo--barred out from the ocean. in the heart of the north american continent, forming in part the boundary line between the united states and the british possessions to the north, lies that chain of great freshwater lakes bordered by busy and rapidly growing commonwealths, washing the water-fronts of rich and populous cities, and bearing upon their steely blue bosoms a commerce which outdoes that of the mediterranean in the days of its greatest glory. the old salt, the able seaman who has rounded the horn, the skipper who has stood unflinchingly at the helm while the green seas towered over the stern, looks with contempt upon the fresh-water sailor and his craft. not so the man of business or the statesman. the growth of lake traffic has been one of the most marvelous and the most influential factors in the industrial development of the united states. by it has been systematized and brought to the highest form of organization the most economical form of freight carriage in the world. through it has been made possible the enormous reduction in the price of american steel that has enabled us to invade foreign markets, and promises to so reduce the cost of our ships, that we may be able to compete again in ship-building, with the yards of the clyde and the tyne. along the shores of these unsalted seas, great shipyards are springing up, that already build ships more cheaply than can be done anywhere else in the world, and despite the obstacles of shallow canals, and the treacherous channels of the st. lawrence, have been able to build and send to tidewater, ocean ships in competition with the seacoast builders. the present of the lake marine is secure; its future is full of promise. its story, if lacking in the elements of romance that attend upon the ocean's story, is well worth telling. a decade more than two centuries ago a band of iroquois indians made their way in bark canoes from lake ontario up lake erie to the detroit river, across lake st. clair, and thence through lake huron to point iroquois. they were the first navigators of the great lakes, and that they were not peace-loving boatmen, is certain from the fact that they traveled all these miles of primeval waterway for the express purpose of battle. history records that they had no difficulty in bringing on a combat with the illinois tribes, and in an attempt to displace the latter from point iroquois, the invaders were destroyed after a six-days' battle. it is still a matter of debate among philosophical historians, whether war, trade, or missionary effort has done the more toward opening the strange, wild places of the world. each, doubtless, has done its part, but we shall find in the story of the great lakes, that the war canoes of the savages were followed by the jesuit missionaries, and these in turn by the bateaux of the voyageurs employed by the hudson bay company. after the iroquois had learned the way, trips of war canoes up and down the lakes, were annual occurrences, and warfare was almost perpetual. in 1680 the iroquois, 700 strong, invaded illinois, killed 1200 of the tribe there established, and drove the rest beyond the mississippi. for years after the iroquois nation were the rulers of the water-front between lake erie and lake huron. while this tribe was in undisputed possession, commerce had little to do with the navigation of the great lakes. the indians went up and down the shores on long hunting trips, but war was the principal business, and every canoe was equipped for a fray at any time. a story is told of a great naval battle that was fought on lake erie, nearly two centuries before the first steamer made its appearance on that placid water. a wyandot prince, so the tale goes, fell in love with a beautiful princess of the seneca tribe, who was the promised bride of a chief of her own nation. the warrior failed to win the heart of the dusky maiden, and goaded to desperation, entered the senecas country by night, and carried off the lady. war immediately followed, and was prosecuted with great cruelty and slaughter for a long time. at last a final battle was fought, in which the wyandots were worsted and forced to flee in great haste. the fugitives planned to cross the ice of the straits (detroit) river, but found it broken up and floating down stream. their only alternative was to throw themselves on the floating ice and leap from cake to cake; they thus made their escape to the canadian shore, and joined the tribes of the pottawatomies, ottawas, and chippewas. a year later the wyandots, equipped with light birch canoes, set out to defeat the senecas, and succeeded in inducing them to give combat on the water. the senecas made a fatal mistake and came out to meet the enemy in their clumsily-constructed boats hollowed out of the trunks of trees. after much maneuvering the birch canoe fleet proceeded down lake erie to the head of long point, with the senecas in hot pursuit. in the center of the lake the wyandots turned and gave the senecas so hot a reception that they were forced to flee, but could not make good their escape in their clumsy craft, and were all slain but one man, who was allowed to return and report the catastrophe to his own nation. this closed the war. legends are preserved that lead to the belief that there may have been navigators of the great lakes before the indians, and it is generally believed that the latter were not the first occupants of the lake superior region. it is said that the lake superior country was frequently visited by a barbaric race, for the purpose of obtaining copper, and it is quite possible that these people may have been skilled navigators. [illustration: the wooden bateaux of the fur traders ] commercial navigation of the great lakes, curiously enough, first assumed importance in the least accessible portion. the hudson bay company, always extending its territory toward the northwest, sent its bateaux and canoes into lake superior early in the seventeenth century. to accommodate this traffic the company dug a canal around the falls of the st. marie river, at the point we now call "the soo." in time this pigmy progenitor of the busiest canal in the world, became filled with débris, and its very existence forgotten; but some years ago a student in the thriving town of sault ste. marie, poring over some old books of the hudson bay company, noticed several references to the company's canal. what canal could it be? his curiosity was aroused, and with the aid of the united states engineers in charge of the new improvements, he began a painstaking investigation. in time the line of the old ditch was discovered, and, indeed, it was no more than a ditch, two and a half feet deep, by eight or nine wide. one lock was built, thirty-eight feet long, with a lift of nine feet. the floor and sills of this lock were discovered, and the united states government has since rebuilt it in stone, that visitors to the soo may turn from the massive new locks, through which steel steamships of eight thousand tons pass all day long through the summer months, to gaze on the strait and narrow gate which once opened the way for all the commerce of lake superior. but through that gate there passed a picturesque and historic procession. canoes spurred along by tufted indians with black-robed jesuit missionaries for passengers; the wooden bateaux of the fur traders, built of wood and propelled by oars, and carrying gangs of turbulent trappers and voyageurs; the company's chief factors in swift private craft, making for the west to extend the influence of the great corporation still further into the wilderness, all passed through the little canal and avoided the roaring waters of the ste. marie. it was but a narrow gate, but it played its part in the opening of the west. war, which is responsible for most of the checks to civilization, whether or not it may in some instances advance the skirmish line of civilized peoples, destroyed the pioneer canal. for in 1812 some americans being in that part of the country, thought it would be a helpful contribution to their national defense if they blew up the lock and shattered the canal, as it was on canadian soil. accordingly this was done, of course without the slightest effect on the conflict then raging, but much to the discomfort and loss of the honest voyageurs and trappers of the lake superior region, whose interest in the war could hardly have been very serious. so far as history records the first sailing vessel to spread its wings on the great lakes beyond niagara falls, was the "griffin," built by the chevalier de la salle in 1679, near the point where buffalo now stands. la salle had brought to this point french ship-builders and carpenters, together with sailors, to navigate the craft when completed. it was his purpose to proceed in this vessel to the farthest corners of the great lakes, establish trading and trapping stations, and take possession of the country in the name of france. he was himself conciliatory with the indians and liked by them, but jealousies among the french themselves, stirred up savage antagonism to him, and his ship narrowly escaped burning while still on the stocks. in august of 1679, however, she was launched, a brigantine of sixty tons burden, mounting five small cannon and three arquebuses. her model is said to have been not unlike that of the caravels in which columbus made his famous voyage, and copies of which were exhibited at the columbian exposition. bow and stern were high and almost alike. yet in this clumsy craft la salle voyaged the whole length of lake erie, passed through the detroit river, and st. clair river and lake; proceeded north to mackinaw, and thence south in lake michigan and into green bay. it was the first time any vessel under sail had entered those waters. maps and charts there were none. the swift rushing waters of the detroit river flowed smoothly over limestone reefs, which the steamers of to-day pass cautiously, despite the government channels, cut deep and plainly lighted. the flats, that broad expanse of marsh permeated by a maze of false channels above detroit, had to be threaded with no chart or guide. yet the "griffin" made st. ignace in twenty days from having set sail, a record which is often not equaled by lumber schooners of the present time. from green bay, la salle sent the vessel back with a cargo of furs that would have made him rich for life, had it ever reached a market. but the vessel disappeared, and for years nothing was heard of her. finally la salle learned that a half-breed pilot, who had shown signs of treachery on the outward trip, had persuaded the crew to run her ashore in the detroit river, and themselves to take the valuable cargo. but the traitors had reckoned without the savage indians of the neighborhood, who also coveted the furs and pelts. while the crew were trying to dispose of these the red men set upon them and slew them all. the "griffin" never again floated on the lakes. it is difficult to determine the time when sailing vessels next appeared upon the lakes, but it was certainly not for nearly seventy-five years. captain jonathan carver reported a french schooner on lake superior about 1766, and in 1772 alexander harvey built a forty-ton sloop on the same lake, in which he sought the site of a famous copper mine. but it was long before lake superior showed more than an infrequent sail, though on lake erie small vessels soon became common. even in 1820 the furs of lake superior were sent down to chicago in bateaux. two small sailing vessels, the "beaver" and the "gladwin," which proved very valuable to the besieged garrison at detroit in 1763, were the next sailing vessels on the lakes, and are supposed to have been built by the english the year previous. it is said, that through the refusal of her captain to take ballast aboard, the "gladwin" was capsized on lake erie and lost, and the entire crew drowned. the "royal charlotte," the "boston," and the "victory" appeared on the lakes a few years later, and went into commission between fort erie (buffalo) and detroit, carrying the first year 1,464 bales of fur to fort erie, and practically establishing commercial navigation. it is hard to look clearly into the future. if the recommendations of one j. collins, deputy surveyor-general of the british government, had governed the destiny of the great lakes, the traffic between buffalo and the soo by water, would to-day be in boats of fifteen tons or less. under orders of the english government, collins in 1788 made a survey of all the lakes and harbors from kingston to mackinac, and in his report, expressing his views as to the size of vessels that should be built for service on the lakes, he said he thought that for service on lake ontario vessels should be seventy-five or eighty tons burden, and on lake erie, if expected to run to lake huron, they should be not more than fifteen tons. what a stretch of imagination is necessary to conceive of the great volume of traffic of the present time, passing detroit in little schooners not much larger than catboats that skim around the lakes! imagine such a corporation as the northern steamship company, with its big fleet of steel steamers, attempting to handle its freight business in sailing vessels of a size that the average wharf-rat of the present time would disdain to pilot. what a rush of business there would be at the marine post-office in detroit, if some day this company would decide to cut off three of its large steamers and send out enough schooners of the size recommended by the english officer, to take their place! the fleet would comprise at least 318 vessels, and would require not fewer than 1500 seamen to navigate. it is sometimes said that there is a continual panorama of vessels passing up and down the rivers of the great lakes, but what if the englishman had guessed right? happily he did not, and vessels of 1500 tons can navigate the connecting waters of lake huron and lake erie much better than those of fifteen tons could in his time. that the early ship-builders did not pay much attention to j. collins, is evident from the fact that, when the detroit was surrendered to the americans in 1796, twelve merchant vessels were owned there of from fifty to one hundred tons each. [illustration: "the red-men set upon them and slew them all"] at the close of the eighteenth century the american sailor had hardly superseded the red men as a navigator, and lake vessels were not much more plentiful than airships are nowadays. indeed, the entire fleet in 1799, so far as can be learned, was as follows: the schooners "nancy," "swan," and "naegel;" the sloops "sagina," "detroit," "beaver," "industry," "speedwell," and "arabaska." this was the fleet, complete, of lakes huron, erie, and michigan. "a wild-looking set were the first white sailors of the lakes," says hubbard in his "memorials of half a century." "their weirdness was often enhanced by the dash of indian blood, and they are better described as rangers of the woods and waters. picturesque, too, they were in their red flannel or leather shirts and cloth caps of some gay color, finished to a point which hung over on one side with a depending tassel. they had a genuine love for their occupation, and muscles that never seemed to tire at the paddle and oar. these were not the men who wanted steamboats and fast sailing vessels. these men had a real love for canoeing, and from dawn to sunset, with only a short interval, and sometimes no midday rest, they would ply the oars, causing the canoe or barge to shoot through the water like a thing of life, but often contending against head winds and gaining little progress in a day's rowing." [illustration: one of the first lake sailors] one of the earliest american sailors on a lake ship bigger than a bateau, was "uncle dacy" johnson, of cleveland, who sailed for fifty years, beginning about 1850. "when i was a chunk of a boy," says the old captain in a letter to a new york paper, "i put a thirty-two pound bundle on my back and started on foot to buffalo. i made the journey to albany, n.y., from bridgeport, conn., in sixteen days, which was nothing remarkable, as i had $3 in money, and a bundle of food. many a poor fellow i knew started on the same journey with nothing but an axe. when i arrived at buffalo i found a very small town--cleveland, sandusky, and erie, were all larger. there were only two lighthouses on the lakes, one at buffalo, which was the first one built, and the other one at erie. buffalo was then called fort erie, and was a struggling little town. my first trip as a sailor was made from buffalo to erie, which was then considered quite a voyage. from buffalo to detroit was looked upon as a long voyage, and a vessel of thirty-two tons was the largest ship on the lakes. in 1813 i was one of a crew of four who left buffalo on the sloop 'commencement' with a cargo of whisky for erie. while beating along shore the english frigate 'charlotte' captured us and two boatloads of red-coats boarded our vessel and took us prisoners. we were paroled on shipboard the same day, and before night concocted a scheme to get the englishmen drunk on our whisky. one of our fellows got drunk first, and told of our intentions, the plot was frustrated, and we narrowly escaped being hung." [illustration: "two boat-loads of redcoats boarded us and took us prisoners"] once begun, the conquest of the lakes as a highway for trade was rapid. we who live in the days of railroads can hardly appreciate how tremendous was the impetus given to the upbuilding of a region if it possessed practicable waterways. the whole history of the settlement of the middle west is told in the story of its rivers and lakes. the tide of immigration, avoiding the dense forests haunted by indians, the rugged mountains, and the broad prairies into which the wheel of the heavy-laden wagon cut deep, followed the course of the potomac and the ohio, the hudson, mohawk, and the great lakes. streams that have long since ceased to be thought navigable for a boy's canoe were made to carry the settlers' few household goods heaped on a flatboat. the flood of families going west created a demand that soon covered the lakes with schooners and brigs. landed on the lake shore near some little stream, the immigrants would build flatboats, and painfully pole their way into the interior to some spot that took their fancy. ohio, indiana, michigan, and illinois thus filled up, towns growing by the side of streams now used only to turn mill-wheels, but which in their day determined where the prosperous settlement should be. the steamboat was not slow in making its appearance on the lakes. in 1818, while it was still an experiment on the seaboard, one of these craft appeared on lake erie. the "walk-in-the-water" was her name, suggestive of indian nomenclature and, withal, exceedingly descriptive. she made the trip from buffalo to detroit, not infrequently taking thirteen days. she was a side-wheeler, a model which still holds favor on the lower lakes, though virtually abandoned on the ocean and on lake superior. an oil painting of this little craft, still preserved, shows her without a pilot-house, steered by a curious tiller at the stern, with a smokestack like six lengths of stovepipe, and huge unboxed wheels. she is said to have been a profitable craft, often carrying as many as fifty passengers on the voyage, for which eighteen dollars was charged. for four years she held a monopoly of the business. probably the efforts of fulton and livingstone to protect the monopoly which had been granted them by the state of new york, and the determination of james roosevelt to maintain what he claimed to be his exclusive right to the vertical paddle-wheel, delayed the extension of steam navigation on the lakes as it did on the great rivers. after four years of solitary service on lake erie, the "walk-in-the-water" was wrecked in an october storm. crowded with passengers, she rode out a heavy gale through a long night. at daybreak the cables parted and she went ashore, but no lives were lost. her loss was considered an irreparable calamity by the settlers at the western end of the lake. "this accident," wrote an eminent citizen of detroit, "may be considered one of the greatest misfortunes which has ever befallen michigan, for, in addition to its having deprived us of all certain and speedy communication with the civilized world, i am fearful it will greatly check the progress of immigration and improvement." it is scarcely necessary to note now that the apprehensions of the worthy citizen of michigan were unfounded. steam navigation on the lakes was no more killed by the loss of the pioneer craft than was transatlantic steam navigation ended by the disapproving verdict of the scientists. nowhere in the world is there such a spectacle of maritime activity, nowhere such a continuous procession of busy cargo-ships as in the detroit river, and through the colossal locks of the "soo" canals. in 1827 the first steamboat reached the sault ste. marie, bearing among her passengers general winfield scott, on a visit of inspection to the military post there, but she made no effort to enter the great lake. about five years later, the first "smoke boat," as the indians called the steamers, reached chicago, the pigmy forerunner of the fleet of huge leviathans that all the summer long, nowadays, blacken chicago's sky with their torrents of smoke, and keep the hurrying citizens fuming at the open draw of a bridge. all side-wheelers were these pioneers, wooden of course, and but sorry specimens of marine architecture, but they opened the way for great things. for some years longer the rushing torrent of the ste. marie's kept lake superior tightly closed to steamboats, but about 1840 the richness of the copper mines bordering upon that lake began to attract capital, and the need of steam navigation became crying. in 1845 men determined to put some sort of a craft upon the lake that would not be dependent upon the whims of wind and sails for propulsion. accordingly, the sloop "ocean," a little craft of fifteen tons, was fitted out with an engine and wheels at detroit and towed to the "soo." there she was dragged out of the water and made the passage between the two lakes on rollers. the "independence," a boat of about the same size, was treated in the same way later in the year. scarcely anything in the history of navigation, unless it be the first successful application of steam to the propulsion of boats is of equal importance with the first appearance of steamboats in lake superior. it may be worth while to abandon for a moment the orderly historical sequence of this narrative, to emphasize the wonderful contrast between the commerce of lake superior in the days of the "independence" and now--periods separated by scarcely sixty years. to-day the commerce of that lake is more than half of all the great lakes combined. it is conducted in steel vessels, ranging from 1500 to 8500 tons, and every year sees an increase in their size. in 1901 more than 27,000,000 tons of freight were carried in lake superior vessels, a gain of nearly 3,000,000 over the year before. the locks in the "soo" canal, of which more later, have twice had to be enlarged, while the canadian government has built a canal of its own on the other side of the river. the discovery and development of the wonderful deposits of iron ore at the head of the lake have proved the greatest factors in the upbuilding of its commerce, and the necessity for getting this ore to the mills in illinois, ohio, and pennsylvania, has resulted in the creation of a class of colossal cargo-carriers on the lake that for efficiency and results, though not for beauty, outdo any vessel known to maritime circles. [illustration: a vanishing type on the lakes] at the present time, when the project of a canal to connect the atlantic and pacific oceans at the central american isthmus has almost passed out of the sphere of discussion and into that of action, there is suggestiveness in the part that the canal at the "soo" played in stimulating lake commerce. until it was dug, the lake fleets grew but slowly, and the steamers were but few and far between. freight rates were high, and the schooners and sloops made but slow passages. from an old bill, of about 1835, we learn that freight rates between detroit and cleveland, or lake erie points and buffalo, were about as follows: flour, thirty cents a barrel; all grain, ten cents a bushel; beef, pork, ashes, and whisky, thirteen cents a hundred pounds; skins and furs, thirty-one cents a hundred weight; staves, from detroit to buffalo, $6.25 a thousand. in 1831 there were but 111 vessels of all sorts on the lakes. in five years, the fleet had grown to 262, and in 1845, the year when the first steamer entered lake superior, to 493. in 1855, the year the "soo" canal was opened, there were in commission 1196 vessels, steam and sail, on the unsalted seas. then began the era of prodigious development, due chiefly to that canal which henry clay, great apostle as he was of internal improvements, said would be beyond the remotest range of settlements in the united states or in the moon. at the head of lake superior are almost illimitable beds of iron ore which looks like rich red earth, and is scooped up by the carload with steam shovels. tens of thousands of men are employed in digging this ore and transporting it to the nearest lake port--duluth and west superior being the largest shipping points. railroads built and equipped for the single purpose of carrying the ore are crowded with rumbling cars day and night, and at the wharves during the eight or nine months of the year when navigation is open lie great steel ships, five hundred feet long, with a capacity of from six thousand to nine thousand tons of ore. perhaps in no branch of marine architecture has the type best fitted to the need been so scientifically determined as in planning these ore boats. they are cargo carriers only, and all considerations of grace or beauty are rigidly eliminated from their design. the bows are high to meet and part the heavy billows of the tempestuous lakes, for they are run as late into the stormy fall and early winter season as the ice will permit. from the forward quarter the bulwarks are cut away, the high bow sheltering the forecastle with the crews, while back of it rises a deck-house of steel, containing the officers' rooms, and bearing aloft the bridge and wheel-house. three hundred feet further aft rises another steel deck-house, above the engine, and between extends the long, flat deck, broken only by hatches every few feet, battened down almost level with the deck floor. during the summer, all too short for the work the busy iron carriers have to do, these boats are run at the top of their speed, and on schedules that make the economy of each minute essential. so they are built in such fashion as to make loading as easy and as rapid as possible. sometimes there are as many as fourteen or sixteen hatches in one of these great ships, into each of which while loading the ore chutes will be pouring their red flood, and out of each of which the automatic unloaders at cleveland or erie will take ten-ton bites of the cargo, until six or seven thousand tons of iron ore may be unloaded in eight hours. the hold is all one great store-room, no deck above the vessel's floor except the main deck. no water-tight compartments or bulkheads divide it as in ocean ships, and all the machinery is placed far in the stern. the vessel is simply a great steel packing-box, with rounded ends, made strong to resist the shock of waves and the impact of thousands of tons of iron poured in from a bin as high above the floor as the roof of a three-story building. with vessels such as these, the cost of carrying ore has been reduced below the level of freight charges in any part of the world. yet comfort and speed are by no means overlooked. the quarters of the officers and men are superior to those provided on most of the ocean liners, and vastly better than anything offered by the "ocean tramps." many of the ships have special guest-cabins fitted up for their owners, rivalling the cabins _de luxe_ of the ocean greyhounds. the speed of the newer ships will average from fourteen to sixteen knots, and one of them in a season will make as many as twenty round trips between duluth and cleveland. often one will tow two great steel barges almost as large as herself, great ore tanks without machinery of any kind and mounting two slender masts chiefly for signaling purposes, but also for use in case of being cut adrift. for a time, the use of these barges, with their great stowage capacity in proportion to their total displacement, was thought to offer the cheapest way of carrying ore. one mining company went very heavily into building these craft, figuring that every steamer could tow two or three of them, giving thus for each engine and crew a load of perhaps twenty-four thousand tons. but, seemingly, this expectation has been disappointed, for while the barges already constructed are in active use, most of the companies have discontinued building them. indeed, at the moment of the preparation of this book, there were but two steel barges building in all the shipyards of the great lakes. another form of lake vessel of which great things were expected, but which disappointed its promotors, is the "whaleback," commonly called by the sailors "pigs." these are cigar-shaped craft, built of steel, their decks, from the bridge aft to the engine-house, rounded like the back of a whale, and carried only a few feet above the water. in a sea, the greater part of the deck is all awash, and a trip from the bridge to the engine-house means not only repeated duckings, but a fair chance of being swept overboard. the first of these boats, called the "101," was built in sections, the plates being forged at cleveland, and the bow and stern built at wilmington, del. the completed structure was launched at duluth. in after years she was taken to the ocean, went round cape horn, and was finally wrecked on the north pacific coast. at the time of the columbian exposition, a large passenger-carrying whaleback, the "christopher columbus," was built, which still plies on lake michigan, though there is nothing discernible in the way of practical advantage in this design for passenger vessels. for cargo carrying there would seem to be much in the claims of their inventor, alexander mcdougall, for their superior capacity and stability, yet they have not been generally adopted. the largest whaleback now on the lakes is named after mr. mcdougall, is four hundred and thirty feet over all, fifty feet beam, and of eight thousand tons capacity. she differs from the older models in having a straight stem instead of the "pig's nose." [illustration: the "whaleback"] the iron traffic which has grown to such monster proportions, and created so noble a fleet of ships, began in 1856, when the steamer "ontonagon" shipped two hundred and ninety-six tons of ore at duluth. to-day, one ship of a fleet numbering hundreds will carry nine thousand tons, and make twenty trips a season. mr. waldon fawcett, who has published in the "century magazine" a careful study of this industry, estimates the total ore cargoes for a year at about 20,000,000 tons. the ships of the ore fleet will range from three hundred and fifty to five hundred feet in length, with a draft of about eighteen feet--at which figure it must stop until harbors and channels are deepened. their cost will average $350,000. the cargoes are worth upward of $100,000,000 annually, and the cost of transportation has been so reduced that in some instances a ton is carried twenty miles for one cent. the seamen, both on quarterdeck and forecastle, will bear comparison with their salt-water brethren for all qualities of manhood. indeed, the lot of the sailor on the lakes naturally tends more to the development of his better qualities than does that of the salt-water jack, for he is engaged by the month, or season, rather than by the trip; he is never in danger of being turned adrift in a foreign port, nor of being "shanghaied" in a home one. he has at least three months in winter to fit himself for shore work if he desires to leave the water, and during the season he is reasonably sure of seeing his family every fortnight. a strong trades-union among the lake seamen keeps wages up and regulates conditions of employment. at the best, however, seafaring on either lake or ocean is but an ill-paid calling, and the earnings of the men who command and man the great ore-carriers are sorely out of proportion to the profits of the employing corporations. mr. fawcett asserts that $11,250 net earnings for a single trip was not unusual in one season, and that this sum might have been increased by $4500 had the owners taken a return cargo of coal instead of rushing back light for more ore. as the vessels of the ore fleet are owned in the main by the steel trust, their earnings are a consideration second to their efficiency in keeping the mills supplied with ore. the great canal at sault ste. marie which has caused this prodigious development of the lake shipping has been under constant construction and reconstruction for almost half a century. it had its origin in a gift of 750,000 acres of public lands from the united states government to the state of michigan. the state, in its turn, passed the lands on to a private company which built the canal. this work was wholly unsatisfactory, and very wisely the government took the control of this artificial waterway out of private hands and assumed its management itself. at once it expended about $8,000,000 upon the enlargement and improvement of the canal. scarcely was it opened before the ratio at which the traffic increased showed that it would not long be sufficient. enlarged in 1881, it gave a capacity of from fourteen feet, nine inches to fifteen feet in depth, and with locks only four hundred feet in length. even a ditch of this size proved of inestimable value in helping vessels to avoid the eighteen feet drop between lake superior and lake huron. by 1886 the tonnage which passed through the canal each year exceeded 9,000,000, and then for the first time this great waterway with a season limited to eight or nine months, exceeded in the volume of its traffic the great suez canal. but shippers at once began to complain of its dimensions. vessels were constantly increasing both in length and in draught, and the development of the great iron fields gave assurance that a new and prodigious industry would add largely to the size of the fleet, which up to that time had mainly been employed in carrying grain. accordingly the government rebuilt the locks until they now are one hundred feet in width, twenty-one feet deep, and twelve hundred feet long. immediately vessels were built of a size which tests even this great capacity, and while the traffic through de lessep's famous canal at suez has for a decade remained almost stationary, being 9,308,152 tons, in 1900, the traffic through the "soo" has increased in almost arithmetical proportion every year, attaining in 1901, 24,696,736 tons, or more than the combined tonnage of the suez, kiel, and manchester canals, though the "soo" is closed four months in the year. in 1887 the value of the iron ore shipments through the canal was $8,744,995. ten years later it exceeded $30,000,000. meanwhile it must be remembered that the canadian government has built on its own side of the river very commodious canals which themselves carry no small share of the lake superior shipments. an illustration of the fashion in which superior facilities at one end of a great line of travel compel improvements all along the line is afforded by the fact that since the canal at the "soo" has been deepened so as to take vessels of twenty-one feet draught with practically no limit upon their length, the cry has gone up among shippers and vessel men for a twenty-foot channel from duluth to the sea. at present there are several points in the lower lakes, notably at what is called the lime kiln crossing, below detroit, where twenty-foot craft are put to some hazard, while beyond buffalo the shallow welland canal, with its short locks, and the shallow canals of the st. lawrence river have practically stopped all effort to establish direct and profitable communication between the great lakes and the ocean. such efforts have been made and the expedients adopted to get around natural obstacles have sometimes been almost pathetic in the story they tell of the eagerness of the lake marine to find an outlet to salt-water. ships are cut in two at cleveland or at erie and sent, thus disjointed, through the canals to be patched together again at quebec or montreal. one body of chicago capitalists built four steel steamers of about 2500 tons capacity each, and of dimensions suited to the locks in the welland canal, in the hopes of maintaining a regular freight line between that city and liverpool. the vessels were loaded with full cargo as far as buffalo, there discharged half their freight, and went on thus half-laden through the canadian canals. but the loss in time and space, and the expense of reshipment of cargo made the experiment an unprofitable one. scarcely a year has passed that some such effort has not been made, and constantly the wonderful development of the ship-building business on the great lakes greatly increases the vigor of the demand for an outlet. steel ships can be built on the lakes at a materially smaller cost than anywhere along the seaboard. in the report of the commissioner of navigation for 1901 it is noted that more than double the tonnage of steel construction on the atlantic coast was reported from the lakes. if lake builders could send their vessels easily and safely to the ocean, we should not need subsidies and special legislation to reestablish the american flag abroad. by the report already quoted, it is shown that thirty-nine steel steamers were built in lake yards of a tonnage ranging from 1089 tons to 5125. wooden ship-building is practically dead on the lakes. in june of that year twenty-six more steel steamers, with an aggregate tonnage of 81,000 were on the stocks in the lake yards. two of these are being built for ocean service, but both will have to be cut in two before they can get through the canadian canals. it is not surprising that there appears among the people living in the commonwealths which border on the great lakes a certain doubt as to whether the expenditure by the united states government of $200,000,000 for a canal at the isthmus will afford so great a measure of encouragement to american shipping and be of as immediate advantage to the american exporter, as a twenty-foot channel from duluth to tide-water. though the old salt may sneer at the freshwater sailor who scarcely need know how to box the compass, to whom the art of navigation is in the main the simple practise of steering from port to port guided by headlands and lights, who is seldom long out of sight of land, and never far from aid, yet the perils of the lakes are quite as real as those which confront the ocean seaman, and the skill and courage necessary for withstanding them quite as great as his. the sailor's greatest safeguard in time of tempest is plenty of searoom. this the lake navigator never has. for him there is always the dreaded lee shore only a few miles away. anchorage on the sandy bottom of the lakes is treacherous, and harbors are but few and most difficult of access. where the ocean sailor finds a great bay, perhaps miles in extent, entered by a gateway thousands of yards across, offering a harbor of refuge in time of storm, the lake navigator has to run into the narrow mouth of a river, or round under the lee of a government breakwater hidden from sight under the crested waves and offering but a precarious shelter at best. chicago, cleveland, milwaukee--most of the lake ports have witnessed such scenes of shipwreck and death right at the doorway of the harbor, as no ocean port could tell. at chicago great schooners have been cast far up upon the boulevard that skirts a waterside park, or thrown bodily athwart the railroad tracks that on the south side of the city border the lake. the writer has seen from a city street, crowded with shoppers on a bright but windy day, vessels break to pieces on the breakwater, half a mile away but in plain sight, and men go down to their death in the raging seas. on all the lakes, but particularly on the smaller ones, an ugly sea is tossed up by the wind in a time so short as to seem miraculous to the practised navigator of the ocean. the shallow water curls into breakers under the force of even a moderate wind, and the vessels are put to such a strain, in their struggles, as perhaps only the craft built especially for the english channel have to undergo. some of the most fatal disasters the lakes have known resulted from iron vessels, thus racked and tossed, sawing off, as the phrase goes, the rivets that bound their plates together, and foundering. fire, too, has numbered its scores of victims on lake steamers, though this danger, like indeed most others, is greatly decreased by the increased use of steel as a structural material and the great improvement in the model of the lake craft. even ten years ago the lake boats were ridiculous in their clumsiness, their sluggishness, and their lack of any of the charm and comfort that attend ocean-going vessels, but progress toward higher types has been rapid, and there are ships on the lakes to-day that equal any of their size afloat. for forty years it has been possible to say annually, "this is the greatest year in the history of the lake marine." for essentially it is a new and a growing factor in the industrial development of the united states. so far, from having been killed by the prodigious development of our railroad system, it has kept pace with that system, and the years that have seen the greatest number of miles of railroad built, have witnessed the launching of the biggest lake vessels. there is every reason to believe that this growth will for a long time be persistent, that the climax has not yet been reached. for it is incredible that the government will permit the barrier at niagara to the commerce of these great inland seas to remain long unbroken. either by the mohawk valley route, now followed by the erie canal, or by the route down the st. lawrence, with a deepening and widening of the present canadian canals, and a new canal down from the st. lawrence to lake champlain, a waterway will yet be provided. the richest coast in the world is that bordering on the lakes. the cheapest ships in the world can there be built. already the government has spent its tens and scores of millions in providing waterways from the extreme northwest end to the southeastern extremity of this water system, and it is unbelievable that it shall long remain violently stopped there. new devices for digging canals; such as those employed in the chicago drainage channel, and the new pneumatic lock, the power and capacity of which seem to be practically unlimited, have vastly decreased the cost of canal building, and multiplied amazingly the value of artificial waterways. as it is admitted that the greatness and the wealth of new york state are much to be credited to the erie canal, so the prosperity and populousness of the whole lake region will be enhanced when lake sailors and the lake ship-builders are given a free waterway to the ocean. **transcriber's note: page 256: changed estopped to stopped. chapter viii the mississippi and tributary rivers--the changing phases of their shipping--river navigation as a nation-building force--the value of small streams--work of the ohio company--an early propeller--the french first on the mississippi--the spaniards at new orleans--early methods of navigation--the flatboat, the broadhorn, and the keelboat--life of the rivermen--pirates and buccaneers--lafitte and the baratarians--the genesis of the steamboats--capricious river--flush times in new orleans--rapid multiplication of steamboats--recent figures on river shipping--commodore whipple's exploit--the men who steered the steamboats--their technical education--the ships they steered--fires and explosions--heroism of the pilots--the racers. it is the ordinary opinion, and one expressed too often in publications which might be expected to speak with some degree of accuracy, that river transportation in the united states is a dying industry. we read every now and then of the disappearance of the magnificent mississippi river steamers, and the magazines not infrequently treat their readers to glowing stories of what is called the "flush" times on the mississippi, when the gorgeousness of the passenger accommodations, the lavishness of the table, the prodigality of the gambling, and the mingled magnificence and outlawry of life on the great packets made up a picturesque and romantic phase of american life. it is true that much of the picturesqueness and the romance has departed long since. the great river no longer bears on its turbid bosom many of the towering castellated boats built to run, as the saying was, on a heavy dew, but still carrying their tiers upon tiers of ivory-white cabins high in air. the time is past when the river was the great passenger thoroughfare from st. louis to new orleans. some few packets still ply upon its surface, but in the main the passenger traffic has been diverted to the railroads which closely parallel its channel on either side. the american travels much, but he likes to travel fast, and for passenger traffic, except on a few routes where special conditions obtain, the steamboat has long since been outclassed by the railroads. yet despite the disappearance of its spectacular conditions the water traffic on the rivers of the mississippi valley is greater now than at any time in its history. its methods only have changed. instead of gorgeous packets crowded with a gay and prodigal throng of travelers for pleasure, we now find most often one dingy, puffing steamboat, probably with no passenger accommodations at all, but which pushes before her from pittsburg to new orleans more than a score of flatbottomed, square-nosed scows, aggregating perhaps more than an acre of surface, and heavy laden with coal. such a tow--for "tow" it is in the river vernacular, although it is pushed--will transport more in one trip than would suffice to load six heavy freight trains. not infrequently the barges or scows will number more than thirty, carrying more than 1000 tons each, or a cargo exceeding in value $100,000. during the season when navigation is open on the ohio and its tributaries, this traffic is pursued without interruption. through it and through the local business on the lower mississippi, and the streams which flow into it, there is built up a tonnage which shows the freight movement, at least, on the great rivers, to exceed, even in these days of railroads, anything recorded in their history. no physical characteristic of the united states has contributed so greatly to the nationalization of the country and its people, as the topography of its rivers. from the very earliest days they have been the pathways along which proceeded exploration and settlement. our forefathers, when they found the narrow strip of land along the atlantic coast which they had at first occupied, becoming crowded, according to their ideas at the time, began working westward, following the river gaps. up the hudson and westward by the mohawk, up the susquehanna and the potomac, carrying around the falls that impeded the course of those streams, trudging over the mountains, and building flatboats at the headwaters of the ohio, they made their way west. some of the most puny streams were utilized for water-carriers, and the traveler of to-day on certain of the railroads through western new york and pennsylvania, will be amazed to see the remnants of canals, painfully built in the beds of brawling streams, that now would hardly float an indian birch-bark canoe. in their time these canals served useful purposes. the stream was dammed and locked every few hundred yards, and so converted into a placid waterway with a flight of mechanical steps, by which the boats were let down to, or raised up from tidewater. to-day nothing remains of most of these works of engineering, except masses of shattered masonry. for the railroads, using the river's bank, and sometimes even part of the retaining walls of the canals for their roadbeds, have shrewdly obtained and swiftly employed authority to destroy all the fittings of these waterways which might, perhaps, at some time, offer to their business a certain rivalry. the corporation known as the ohio company, with a great purchase of land from congress in 1787, by keen advertising, and the methods of the modern real-estate boomer, started the tide of emigration and the fleet of boats down the ohio. the first craft sent out by this corporation was named, appropriately enough, the "mayflower." she drifted from pittsburg to a spot near the mouth of the muskingum river. soon the immigrants began to follow by scores, and then by thousands. mr. mcmaster has collected some contemporary evidence of their numbers. one man at fort pitt saw fifty flatboats set forth between the first of march and the middle of april, 1787. between october, 1786, and may, 1787--the frozen season when boats were necessarily infrequent--the adjutant at fort harmer counted one hundred and seventy-seven flat-boats, and estimated they carried twenty-seven hundred settlers. a shabby and clumsy fleet it was, indeed, with only enough seamanship involved to push off a sand-bar, but it was a great factor in the upbuilding of the nation. and a curious fact is that the voyagers on one of these river craft hit upon the principle of the screw-propeller, and put it to effective use. the story is told in the diary of manasseh cutler, a member of the ohio company, who writes: "assisted by a number of people, we went to work and constructed a machine in the form of a screw, with short blades, and placed it in the stern of the boat, which we turned with a crank. it succeeded to perfection, and i think it a very useful discovery." but the discovery was forgotten for nearly three-quarters of a century, until john ericsson rediscovered and utilized it. once across the divide, the early stream of immigration took its way down the ohio river to the mississippi. there it met the outposts of french power, for the french burst open that great river, following their missionaries, marquette and joliet, down from its headwaters in wisconsin, or pressing up from their early settlements at new orleans. doubtless, if it had not been that the mississippi afforded the most practicable, and the most useful highway from north to south, the young american people would have had a french state to the westward of them until they had gone much further on the path toward national manhood. but the navigation of the mississippi and its tributaries was so rich a prize, that it stimulated alike considerations of individual self-interest and national ambition. from the day when the first flatboat made its way from the falls of the ohio to new orleans, it was the fixed determination of all people living by the great river, or using it as a highway for commerce, that from its headwaters to its mouth it should be a purely american stream. it was in this way that the mississippi and its tributaries proved to be, as i have said, a great influence in developing the spirit of coherent nationality among the people of the young nation. indeed, no national government could be of much value to the farmers and trappers of kentucky and tennessee that did not assure them the right to navigate the mississippi to its mouth, and find there a place to trans-ship their goods into ocean-going vessels. from the atlantic seaboard they were shut off by a wall, that for all purpose of export trade was impenetrable. the swift current of the rivers beat back their vessels, the towering ranges of the alleghanies mocked at their efforts at road building. from their hills flowed the water that filled the father of waters and his tributaries. nature had clearly designed this for their outlet. as james madison wrote: "the mississippi is to them everything. it is the hudson, the delaware, the potomac, and all the navigable waters of the atlantic coast formed into one stream." yet, when the first trader, in 1786, drifted with his flatboat from ohio down to new orleans, thus entering the confines of spanish territory, he was seized and imprisoned, his goods were taken from him, and at last he was turned loose, penniless, to plod on foot the long way back to his home, telling the story of his hardships as he went along. the name of that man was thomas amis, and after his case became known in the great valley, it ceased to be a matter of doubt that the americans would control the mississippi. he was in a sense the forerunner of jefferson and jackson, for after his time no intelligent statesman could doubt that new orleans must be ours, nor any soldier question the need for defending it desperately against any foreign power. the story of the way in which gen. james wilkinson, by intrigue and trickery, some years later secured a partial relaxation of spanish vigilance, can not be told here, though his plot had much to do with opening the great river. [illustration: flatboats manned with riflemen] the story of navigation on the mississippi river, is not without its elements of romance, though it does not approach in world interest the story of the achievements of the new england mariners on all the oceans of the globe. little danger from tempest was encountered here. the natural perils to navigation were but an ignoble and unromantic kind--the shifting sand-bar and the treacherous snag. yet, in the early days, when the flatboats were built at cincinnati or pittsburg, with high parapets of logs or heavy timber about their sides, and manned not only with men to work the sweeps and hold the steering oar, but with riflemen, alert of eye, and unerring of aim, to watch for the lurking savage on the banks, there was peril in the voyage that might even affect the stout nerves of the hardy navigator from new bedford or nantucket. for many long years in the early days of our country's history, the savages of the mississippi valley were always hostile, continually enraged. the french and the english, bent upon stirring up antagonism to the growing young nation, had their agents persistently at work awakening indian hostility, and, indeed, it is probable that had this not been the case, the rough and lawless character of the american pioneers, and their entire indifference to the rights of the indians, whom they were bent on displacing, would have furnished sufficient cause for conflict. first of the craft to follow the indian canoes and the bateaux of the french missionaries down the great rivers, was the flatboat--a homely and ungraceful vessel, but yet one to which the people of the united states owe, perhaps, more of real service in the direction of building up a great nation than they do to dewey's "olympia," or schley's "brooklyn." a typical flatboat of the early days of river navigation was about fifty-five feet long by sixteen broad. it was without a keel, as its name would indicate, and drew about three feet of water. amidships was built a rough deck-house or cabin, from the roof of which extended on either side, two long oars, used for directing the course of the craft rather than for propulsion, since her way was ever downward with the current, and dependent upon it. these great oars seemed to the fancy of the early flatboat men, to resemble horns, hence the name "broadhorns," sometimes applied to the boats. such a boat the settler would fill with household goods and farm stock, and commit himself to the current at pittsburg. from the roof of the cabin that housed his family, cocks crew and hens cackled, while the stolid eyes of cattle peered over the high parapet of logs built about the edge for protection against the arrow or bullet of the wandering redskin. sometimes several families would combine to build one ark. drifting slowly down the river--the voyage from pittsburg to the falls of the ohio, where louisville now stands, requiring with the best luck, a week or ten days--the shore on either hand would be closely scanned for signs of unusual fertility, or for the opening of some small stream suggesting a good place to "settle." when a spot was picked out the boat would be run aground, the boards of the cabin erected skilfully into a hut, and a new outpost of civilization would be established. as these settlements multiplied, and the course of emigration to the west and southwest increased, river life became full of variety and gaiety. in some years more than a thousand boats were counted passing marietta. several boats would lash together and make the voyage to new orleans, which sometimes occupied months, in company. there would be frolics and dances, the notes of the violin--an almost universal instrument among the flatboat men--sounded across the waters by night to the lonely cabins on the shores, and the settlers not infrequently would put off in their skiffs to meet the unknown voyagers, ask for the news from the east, and share in their revels. floating shops were established on the ohio and its tributaries--flatboats, with great cabins fitted with shelves and stocked with cloth, ammunition, tools, agricultural implements, and the ever-present whisky, which formed a principal staple of trade along the rivers. approaching a clump of houses on the bank, the amphibious shopkeeper would blow lustily upon a horn, and thereupon all the inhabitants would flock down to the banks to bargain for the goods that attracted them. as the population increased the floating saloon and the floating gambling house were added to the civilized advantages the river bore on its bosom. trade was long a mere matter of barter, for currency was seldom seen in these outlying settlements. skins and agricultural products were all the purchasers had to give, and the merchant starting from pittsburg with a cargo of manufactured goods, would arrive at new orleans, perhaps three months later, with a cabin filled with furs and a deck piled high with the products of the farm. here he would dispose of his cargo, perhaps for shipment to europe, sell his flatboat for the lumber in it, and begin his painful way back again to the head of navigation. the flatboat never attempted to return against the stream. for this purpose keel-boats or barges were used, great hulks about the size of a small schooner, and requiring twenty-five men at the poles to push one painfully up stream. three methods of propulsion were employed. the "shoulder pole," which rested on the bottom, and which the boatman pushed, walking from bow to stern as he did so; tow-lines, called cordelles, and finally the boat was drawn along by pulling on overhanging branches. the last method was called "bushwhacking." these became in time the regular packets of the rivers, since they were not broken up at the end of the voyage and required trained crews for their navigation. the bargemen were at once the envy and terror of the simple folk along the shores. a wild, turbulent class, ready to fight and to dance, equally enraptured with the rough scraping of a fiddle by one of their number, or the sound of the war-whoop, which promised the only less joyous diversion of a fight, they aroused all the inborn vagrant tendencies of the riverside boys, and to run away with a flatboat became, for the ohio or indiana lad, as much of an ambition as to run away to sea was for the boy of new england. it will be remembered that abraham lincoln for a time followed the calling of a flatboatman, and made a voyage to new orleans, on which he first saw slaves, and later invented a device for lifting flatboats over sand-bars, the model for which is still preserved at washington, though the industry it was designed to aid is dead. pigs, flour, and bacon, planks and shingles, ploughs, hoes, and spades, cider and whisky, were among the simple articles dealt in by the owners of the barges. their biggest market was new orleans, and thither most of their food staples were carried, but for agricultural implements and whisky there was a ready sale all along the route. tying up to trade, or to avoid the danger of night navigation, the boatmen became the heroes of the neighborhood. often they invited all hands down to their boat for a dance, and by flaring torches to the notes of accordion and fiddle, the evening would pass in rude and harmless jollity, unless too many tin cups or gourds of fiery liquor excited the always ready pugnacity of the men. they were ready to brag of their valor, and to put their boasts to the test. they were "half horse, half alligator," according to their own favorite expression, equally prepared with knife or pistol, fist, or the trained thumb that gouged out an antagonist's eye, unless he speedily called for mercy. "i'm a salt river roarer!" bawled one in the presence of a foreign diarist. "i can outrun, outjump, throw down, drag out and lick any man on the river! i love wimmen, and i'm chock full of fight!" in every crew the "best" man was entitled to wear a feather or other badge, and the word "best" had no reference to moral worth, but merely expressed his demonstrated ability to whip any of his shipmates. they had their songs, too, usually sentimental, as the songs of rough men are, that they bawled out as they toiled at the sweeps or the pushpoles. some have been preserved in history: "it's oh! as i was walking out, one morning in july, i met a maid who axed my trade. 'a flatboatman,' says i. "and it's oh! she was so neat a maid that her stockings and her shoes she toted in her lily-white hands, for to keep them from the dews." [illustration: "the evening would pass in rude and harmless jollity."] just below the mouth of the wabash on the ohio was the site of shawneetown, which marked the line of division between the ohio and the mississippi trade. here goods and passengers were debarked for illinois, and here the ohio boatmen stopped before beginning their return trip. because of the revels of the boatmen, who were paid off there, the place acquired a reputation akin to that which port said, at the northern entrance to the suez canal, now holds. it held a high place in river song and story. "some row up, but we row down, all the way to shawneetown. pull away, pull away," was a favorite chorus. natchez, tennessee, held a like unsavory reputation among the mississippi river boatmen, for there was the great market in which were exchanged northern products for the cotton, yams, and sugar of the rich lands of the south. for food on the long voyage, the boatmen relied mostly on their rifles, but somewhat on the fish that might be brought up from the depths of the turbid stream, and the poultry and mutton which they could secure from the settlers by barter, or not infrequently, by theft. wild geese were occasionally shot from the decks, while a few hours' hunt on shore would almost certainly bring reward in the shape of wild turkey or deer. a somewhat archaic story among river boatmen tells of the way in which "mike fink," a famous character among them, secured a supply of mutton. seeing a flock of sheep grazing near the shore, he ran his boat near them, and rubbed the noses of several with scotch snuff. when the poor brutes began to caper and sneeze in dire discomfort, the owner arrived on the scene, and asked anxiously what could ail them. the bargeman, as a traveled person, was guide, philosopher, and friend to all along the river, and so, when informed that his sheep were suffering from black murrain, and that all would be infected unless those already afflicted were killed, the farmer unquestioningly shot those that showed the strange symptoms, and threw the bodies into the river, whence they were presently collected by the astute "mike," and turned into fair mutton for himself and passengers. such exploits as these added mightily to the repute of the rivermen for shrewdness, and the farmer who suffered received scant sympathy from his neighbors. but the boatmen themselves had dangers to meet, and robbers to evade or to outwit. at any time the lurking indian on the banks might send a death-dealing arrow or bullet from some thicket, for pure love of slaughter. for a time it was a favorite ruse of hostiles, who had secured a white captive, to send him alone to the river's edge, under threat of torture, there to plead with outstretched hands for aid from the passing raft. but woe to the mariner who was moved by the appeal, for back of the unfortunate, hidden in the bushes, lay ambushed savages, ready to leap upon any who came ashore on the errand of mercy, and in the end neither victim nor decoy escaped the fullest infliction of redskin barbarity. there were white outlaws along the rivers, too; land pirates ready to rob and murder when opportunity offered, and as the spanish territory about new orleans was entered, the dangers multiplied. the advertisement of a line of packets sets forth: "no danger need be apprehended from the enemy, as every person whatever will be under cover, made proof against rifle or musket balls, and convenient portholes for firing out of. each of the boats are armed with six pieces, carrying a pound ball, also a number of muskets, and amply supplied with ammunition, strongly manned with choice hands, and masters of approved knowledge." the english of the advertisement is not of the most luminous character, yet it suffices to tell clearly enough to any one of imagination, the story of some of the dangers that beset those who drifted from ohio to new orleans. the lower reaches of the mississippi river bore among rivermen, during the early days of the century, very much such a reputation as the spanish main bore among the peaceful mariners of the atlantic trade. they were the haunts of pirates and buccaneers, mostly ordinary cheap freebooters, operating from the shore with a few skiffs, or a lugger, perhaps, who would dash out upon a passing vessel, loot it, and turn it adrift. but one gang of these river pirates so grew in power and audacity, and its leaders so ramified their associations and their business relations, as for a time to become a really influential factor in the government of new orleans, while for a term of years they even put the authority of the united states at nought. the story of the brothers lafitte and their nest of criminals at barataria, is one of the most picturesque in american annals. on a group of those small islands crowned with live-oaks and with fronded palms, in that strange waterlogged country to the southwest of the crescent city, where the sea, the bayou, and the marsh fade one into the other until the line of demarkation can scarcely be traced, the lafittes established their colony. there they built cabins and storehouses, threw up-earthworks, and armed them with stolen cannon. in time the plunder of scores of vessels filled the warehouses with the goods of all nations, and as the wealth of the colony grew its numbers increased. to it were attracted the adventurous spirits of the creole city. men of spanish and of french descent, negroes, and quadroons, west indians from all the islands scattered between north and south america, birds of prey, and fugitives from justice of all sorts and kinds, made that a place of refuge. they brought their women and children, and their slaves, and the place became a small principality, knowing no law save lafitte's will. with a fleet of small schooners the pirates would sally out into the gulf and plunder vessels of whatever sort they might encounter. the road to their hiding-place was difficult to follow, either in boats or afoot, for the tortuous bayous that led to it were intertwined in an almost inextricable maze, through which, indeed, the trained pilots of the colony picked their way with ease, but along which no untrained helmsman could follow them. if attack were made by land, the marching force was confronted by impassable rivers and swamps; if by boats, the invaders pressing up a channel which seemed to promise success, would find themselves suddenly in a blind alley, with nothing to do save to retrace their course. meanwhile, for the greater convenience of the pirates, a system of lagoons, well known to them, and easily navigated in luggers, led to the very back door of new orleans, the market for their plunder. of the brothers lafitte, one held state in the city as a successful merchant, a man not without influence with the city government, of high standing in the business community, and in thoroughly good repute. yet he was, in fact, the agent for the pirate colony, and the goods he dealt in were those which the picturesque ruffians of barataria had stolen from the vessels about the mouth of the mississippi river. the situation persisted for nearly half a score of years. if there were merchants, importers and shipowners in new orleans who suffered by it, there were others who profited by it, and it has usually been the case that a crime or an injustice by which any considerable number of people profit, becomes a sort of vested right, hard to disturb. and, indeed, the baratarians were not without a certain rude sense of patriotism and loyalty to the united states, whose laws they persistently violated. for when the second war with great britain was declared and packenham was dispatched to take new orleans, the commander of the british fleet made overtures to lafitte and his men, promising them a liberal subsidy and full pardon for all past offenses, if they would but act as his allies and guide the british invaders to the most vulnerable point in the defenses of the crescent city. the offer was refused, and instead, the chief men of the pirate colony went straightway to new orleans to put jackson on his guard, and when the opposing forces met on the plains of chalmette, the very center of the american line was held by dominique yon, with a band of his swarthy baratarians, with howitzers which they themselves had dragged from their pirate stronghold to train upon the british. many of us, however law-abiding, will feel a certain sense that the romance of history would have been better served, if after this act of patriotism, the pirates had been at least peacefully dispersed. but they were wedded to their predatory life, returned with renewed zeal to their piracies, and were finally destroyed by the state forces and a united states naval expedition, which burned their settlement, freed their slaves, razed their fortifications, confiscated their cannon, killed many of their people, and dispersed the rest among the swamps and forests of southern louisiana. in 1809 a new york man, by name nicholas j. roosevelt, set out from pittsburg in a flatboat of the usual type, to make the voyage to new orleans. he carried no cargo of goods for sale, nor did he convey any band of intended settlers, yet his journey was only second in importance to the ill-fated one, in which the luckless amis proved that new orleans must be united states territory, or the wealth of the great interior plateau would be effectively bottled up. for roosevelt was the partner of fulton and livingston in their new steamboat enterprise, having himself suggested the vertical paddle-wheel, which for more than a half a century was the favorite means of utilizing steam power for the propulsion of boats. he was firm in the belief that the greatest future for the steamboat was on the great rivers that tied together the rapidly growing commonwealths of the middle west, and he undertook this voyage for the purpose of studying the channel and the current of the rivers, with the view to putting a steamer on them. wise men assured him that on the upper river his scheme was destined to failure. could a boat laden with a heavy engine be made of so light a draught as to pass over the shallows of the ohio? could it run the falls at louisville, or be dragged around them as the flatboats often were? clearly not. the only really serviceable type of river craft was the flatboat, for it would go where there was water enough for a muskrat to swim in, would glide unscathed over the concealed snag or, thrusting its corner into the soft mud of some protruding bank, swing around and go on as well stern first as before. the flatboat was the sum of human ingenuity applied to river navigation. even barges were proving failures and passing into disuse, as the cost of poling them upstream was greater than any profit to be reaped from the voyage. could a boat laden with thousands of pounds of machinery make her way northward against that swift current? and if not, could steamboat men be continually taking expensive engines down to new orleans and abandoning them there, as the old-time river men did their rafts and scows? clearly not. so roosevelt's appearance on the river did not in any way disquiet the flatboatmen, though it portended their disappearance as a class. roosevelt, however, was in no wise discouraged. week after week he drifted along the ohio and mississippi, taking detailed soundings, studying the course of the current, noting the supply of fuel along the banks, observing the course of the rafts and flatboats as they drifted along at the mercy of the tide. nothing escaped his attention, and yet it may well be doubted whether the mass of data he collected was in fact of any practical value, for the great river is the least understandable of streams. its channel is as shifting as the mists above niagara. where yesterday the biggest boat on the river, deep laden with cotton, might pass with safety, there may be to-day a sand-bar scarcely hidden beneath the tide. its banks change over night in form and in appearance. in time of flood it cuts new channels for itself, leaving in a few days river towns far in the interior, and suddenly giving a water frontage to some plantation whose owner had for years mourned over his distance from the river bank. capricious and irresistible, working insidiously night and day, seldom showing the progress of its endeavors until some huge slice of land, acres in extent, crumbles into the flood, or some gully or cut-off all at once appears as the main channel, the mississippi, even now when the government is at all times on the alert to hold it in bounds, is not to be lightly learned nor long trusted. in roosevelt's time, before the days of the river commission, it must have been still more difficult to comprehend. nevertheless, the information he collected, satisfied him that the stream was navigable for steamers, and his report determined his partners to build the pioneer craft at pittsburg. she was completed, "built after the fashion of a ship with portholes in her side," says a writer of the time, dubbed the "orleans," and in 1812 reached the city on the sodden prairies near the mouth of the mississippi, whose name we now take as a synonym for quaintness, but which at that time had seemingly the best chance to become a rival of london and liverpool, of any american town. for just then the great possibilities of the river highway were becoming apparent. the valley was filling up with farmers, and their produce sought the shortest way to tide-water. the streets of the city were crowded with flatboatmen, from indiana, ohio, and kentucky, and with sailors speaking strange tongues, and gathered from all the ports of the world. at the broad levee floated the ships of all nations. all manual work was done by the negro slaves, and already the planters were beginning to show signs of that prodigal prosperity, which, in the flush times, made new orleans the gayest city in the united states. in 1813 jackson put the final seal on the title-deeds to new orleans, and made the mississippi forever an american river by defeating the british just outside the city's walls, and then river commerce grew apace. in 1817 fifteen hundred flatboats and five hundred barges tied up to the levee. by that time the steamboat had proved her case, for the "new orleans" had run for years between natchez and the louisiana city, charging a fare of eighteen dollars for the down, and twenty-five dollars for the up trip, and earning for her owners twenty thousand dollars profits in one year. she was snagged and lost in 1814, but by that time others were in the field, first of all the "comet," a stern-wheeler of twenty-five tons, built at pittsburg, and entering the new orleans-natchez trade in 1814. the "vesuvius," and the "ætna."--volcanic names which suggested the explosive end of too many of the early boats--were next in the field, and the latter won fame by being the first boat to make the up trip from new orleans to louisville. another steamboat, the "enterprise," carried a cargo of, powder and ball from pittsburg to general jackson at new orleans, and after some service on southern waters, made the return trip to louisville in twenty-five days. this was a great achievement, and hailed by the people of the kentucky town as the certain forerunner of commercial greatness, for at one time there were tied to the bank the "enterprise" from new orleans, the "despatch" from pittsburg, and the "kentucky elizabeth" from the upper kentucky river. never had the settlement seemed to be so thoroughly in the heart of the continent. thereafter river steamboating grew so fast that by 1819 sixty-three steamers, of varying tonnage from twenty to three hundred tons, were plying on the western rivers. four had been built at new orleans, one each at philadelphia, new york, and providence, and fifty-six on the ohio. the upper reaches of the mississippi still lagged in the race, for most of the boats turned off up the ohio river, into the more populous territory toward the east. it was not until august, 1817, that the "general pike," the first steamer ever to ascend the mississippi river above the mouth of the ohio, reached st. louis. no pictures, and but scant descriptions of this pioneer craft, are obtainable at the present time. from old letters it is learned that she was built on the model of a barge, with her cabin situated on the lower deck, so that its top scarcely showed above the bulwarks. she had a low-pressure engine, which at times proved inadequate to stem the current, and in such a crisis the crew got out their shoulder poles and pushed her painfully up stream, as had been the practice so many years with the barges. at night she tied up to the bank. only one other steamer reached st. louis in the same twelve months. by way of contrast to this picture of the early beginnings of river navigation on the upper mississippi, we may set over some facts drawn from recent official publications concerning the volume of river traffic, of which st. louis is now the admitted center. in 1890 11,000,000 passengers were carried in steamboats on rivers of the mississippi system. the ohio and its tributaries, according to the census of that year, carried over 15,000,000 tons of freight annually, mainly coal, grain, lumber, iron, and steel. the mississippi carries about the same amount of freight, though on its turbid tide, cotton and sugar, in no small degree, take the place of grain and the products of the furnaces and mills. but it was a long time before steam navigation approached anything like these figures, and indeed, many years passed before the flatboat and the barge saw their doom, and disappeared. in 1821, ten years after the first steamboat arrived at new orleans, there was still recorded in the annals of the town, the arrival of four hundred and forty-one flatboats, and one hundred and seventy-four barges. but two hundred and eighty-seven steamboats also tied up to the levee that year, and the end of the flatboat days was in sight. ninety-five of the new type of vessels were in service on the mississippi and its tributaries, and five were at mobile making short voyages on the mississippi sound and out into the gulf. they were but poor types of vessels at best. at first the shortest voyage up the river from new orleans to shippingport--then a famous landing, now vanished from the map--was twenty-two days, and it took ten days to come down. within six years the models of the boats and the power of the engines had been so greatly improved that the up trip was made in twelve days, and the down in six. even the towns on the smaller streams tributary to the great river, had their own fleets. sixteen vessels plied between nashville and new orleans. the red river, and even the missouri, began to echo to the puffing of the exhaust and the shriek of the steam-whistle. indeed, it was not very long before the missouri river became as important a pathway for the troops of emigrants making for the great western plains and in time for the gold fields of california, as the ohio had been in the opening days of the century for the pioneers bent upon opening up the mississippi valley. the story of the missouri river voyage, the landing place at westport, now transformed into the great bustling city of kansas city, and all the attendant incidents which led up to the contest in kansas and nebraska, forms one of the most interesting, and not the least important chapters in the history of our national development. the decade during which the steamboats and the flatboats still struggled for the mastery, was the most picturesque period of mississippi river life. then the river towns throve most, and waxed turbulent, noisy, and big, according to the standards of the times. places which now are mere names on the map, or have even disappeared from the map altogether, were great trans-shipping points for goods on the way to the sea. new madrid, for example, which nowadays we remember chiefly as being one of the stubborn obstacles in the way of the union opening of the river in the dark days of the civil war, was in 1826 like a seaport. flatboats in groups and fleets came drifting to its levees heavy laden with the products of the west and south, the output of the northern farms and mills, and the southern plantations. on the crowded river bank would be disembarked goods drawn from far-off new england, which had been dragged over the mountains and sent down the ohio to the mississippi; furs from northern minnesota or wisconsin; lumber in the rough, or shaped into planks, from the mills along the ohio; whisky from kentucky, pork and flour from illinois, cattle, horses, hemp, fabrics, tobacco, everything that men at home or abroad, could need or crave, was gathered up by enterprising traders along three thousand miles of waterway, and brought hither by clumsy rafts and flatboats, and scarcely less clumsy steamboats, for distribution up and down other rivers, and shipment to foreign lands. at new orleans there was a like deposit of all the products of that rich valley, an empire in itself. there grain, cotton, lumber, live stock, furs, the output of the farms and the spoils of the chase, were transferred to ocean-going ships and sent to foreign markets. speculative spirits planned for the day, when this rehandling of cargoes at the crescent city would be no longer necessary, but ships would clear from louisville or st. louis to liverpool or hamburg direct. a fine type of the american sailor, commodore whipple, who had won his title by good sea-fighting in the revolutionary war, gave great encouragement to this hope, in 1800, by taking the full-rigged ship "st. clair," with a cargo of pork and flour, from marietta, ohio, down the ohio, over the falls at louisville, thence down the mississippi, and round by sea to havana, and so on to philadelphia. this really notable exploit--to the success of which good luck contributed almost as much as good seamanship--aroused the greatest enthusiasm. the commodore returned home overland, from philadelphia. his progress, slow enough, at best, was checked by ovations, complimentary addresses, and extemporized banquets. he was _the_ man of the moment. the poetasters, who were quite as numerous in the early days of the republic, as the true poets were scarce, signalized his exploit in verse. "the triton crieth, 'who cometh now from shore?' neptune replieth, ''tis the old commodore. long has it been since i saw him before. in the year '75 from columbia he came, the pride of the briton, on ocean to tame. * * * * * "'but now he comes from western woods, descending slow, with gentle floods, the pioneer of a mighty train, which commerce brings to my domain.'" but neptune and the triton had no further occasion to exchange notes of astonishment upon the appearance of river-built ships on the ocean. the "st. clair" was the first and last experiment of the sort. late in the nineties, the united states government tried building a torpedo-boat at dubuque for ocean service, but the result was not encouraging. year after year the steamboats multiplied, not only on the rivers of the west, but on those leading from the atlantic seaboard into the interior. it may be said justly that the application of steam to purposes of navigation made the american people face fairly about. long they had stood, looking outward, gazing across the sea to europe, their sole market, both for buying and for selling. but now the rich lands beyond the mountains, inviting settlers, and cut up by streams which offered paths for the most rapid and comfortable method of transportation then known, commanded their attention. immigrants no longer stopped in stony new england, or in virginia, already dominated by an aristocratic land-owning class, but pressed on to kentucky, ohio, tennessee, and illinois. as the lands filled up, the little steamers pushed their noses up new streams, seeking new markets. the cumberland, and the tennessee, the missouri, the arkansas, the red, the tombigbee, and the chattahoochee were stirred by the churning wheels, and over-their forests floated the mournful sough of the high-pressure exhaust. in 1840, a count kept at cairo, showed 4566 vessels had passed that point during the year. by 1848, a "banner" year, in the history of navigation on the mississippi, traffic was recorded thus: 25 vessels plying between louisville, new orleans and cincinnati 8,484 tons 7 between nashville and new orleans 2,585 tons 4 between florence and new orleans 1,617 tons 4 in st. louis local trade 1,001 tons 7 in local cotton trade 2,016 tons river "tramps" and unclassified 23,206 tons it may be noted that in all the years of the development of the mississippi shipping, there was comparatively little increase in the size of the individual boats. the "vesuvius," built in 1814, was 480 tons burthen, 160 feet long, 28.6 feet beam, and drew from five to six feet. the biggest boats of later years were but little larger. [illustration: the mississippi pilot] the aristocrat of the mississippi river steamboat was the pilot. to him all men deferred. so far as the river service furnished a parallel to the autocratic authority of the sea-going captain or master, he was it. all matters pertaining to the navigation of the boat were in his domain, and right zealously he guarded his authority and his dignity. the captain might determine such trivial matters as hiring or discharging men, buying fuel, or contracting for freight; the clerk might lord it over the passengers, and the mate domineer over the black roustabouts; but the pilot moved along in a sort of isolated grandeur, the true monarch of all he surveyed. if, in his judgment the course of wisdom was to tie up to an old sycamore tree on the bank and remain motionless all night, the boat tied up. the grumblings of passengers and the disapproval of the captain availed naught, nor did the captain often venture upon either criticism or suggestion to the lordly pilot, who was prone to resent such invasion of his dignity in ways that made trouble. indeed, during the flush times on the mississippi, the pilots were a body of men possessing painfully acquired knowledge and skill, and so organized as to protect all the privileges which their attainments should win for them. the ability to "run" the great river from st. louis to new orleans was not lightly won, nor, for that matter, easily retained, for the mississippi is ever a fickle flood, with changing landmarks and shifting channel. in all the great volume of literature bearing on the story of the river, the difficulties of its conquest are nowhere so truly recounted as in mark twain's _life on the mississippi_, the humorous quality of which does not obscure, but rather enhances its value as a picturesque and truthful story of the old-time pilot's life. the pilot began his work in boyhood as a "cub" to a licensed pilot. his duties ranged from bringing refreshments up to the pilot-house, to holding the wheel when some straight stretch or clear, deep channel offered his master a chance to leave his post for a few minutes. for strain on the memory, his education is comparable only to the chinese system of liberal culture, which comprehends learning by rote some tens of thousands of verses from the works of confucius and other philosophers of the far east. beginning at new orleans, he had to commit to memory the name and appearance of every point of land, inlet, river or bayou mouth, "cut-off," light, plantation and hamlet on either bank of the river all the way to st. louis. then, he had to learn them all in their opposite order, quite an independent task, as all of us who learned the multiplication table backward in the days of our youth, will readily understand. these landmarks it was needful for him to recognize by day and by night, through fog or driving rain, when the river was swollen by spring floods, or shrunk in summer to a yellow ribbon meandering through a sahara of sand. he had need to recognize at a glance the ripple on the water that told of a lurking sand-bar and distinguish it from the almost identical ripple that a brisk breeze would raise. most perplexing of the perils that beset river navigation are the "snags," or sunken logs that often obstruct the channel. some towering oak or pine, growing in lusty strength for its half-century or more by the brink of the upper reaches of one of the mississippi system would, in time, be undermined by the flood and fall into the rushing tide. for weeks it would be rolled along the shallows; its leaves and twigs rotting off, its smaller branches breaking short, until at last, hundreds of miles, perhaps, below the scene of its fall, it would lodge fair in the channel. the gnarled and matted mass of boughs would ordinarily cling like an anchor to the sandy bottom, while the buoyant trunk, as though struggling to break away, would strain upward obliquely to within a few inches of the surface of the muddy water, which--too thick to drink and too thin to plough, as the old saying went--gave no hint of this concealed peril; but the boat running fairly upon it, would have her bows stove in and go quickly to the bottom. after the united states took control of the river and began spending its millions annually in improving it for navigation and protecting the surrounding country against its overflows, "snag-boats" were put on the river, equipped with special machinery for dragging these fallen forest giants from the channel, so that of late years accidents from this cause have been rare. but for many years the riverman's chief reliance was that curious instinct or second sight which enabled the trained pilot to pick his way along the most tortuous channel in the densest fog, or to find the landing of some obscure plantation on a night blacker than the blackest of the roustabouts, who moved lively to the incessant cursing of the mate. the mississippi river steamboat of the golden age on the river--the type, indeed, which still persists--was a triumph of adaptability to the service for which she was designed. more than this--she was an egregious architectural sham. she was a success in her light draught, six to eight feet, at most, and in her prodigious carrying capacity. it was said of one of these boats, when skilfully loaded by a gang of practical roustabouts, under the direction of an experienced mate, that the freight she carried, if unloaded on the bank, would make a pile bigger than the boat herself. the hull of the vessel was invariably of wood, broad of beam, light of draught, built "to run on a heavy dew," and with only the rudiments of a keel. some freight was stowed in the hold, but the engines were not placed there, but on the main deck, built almost flush with the water, and extending unbroken from stem to stern. often the engines were in pairs, so that the great paddle-wheels could be worked independently of each other. the finest and fastest boats were side-wheelers, but a large wheel at the stern, or two stern wheels, side by side, capable of independent action, were common modes of propulsion. the escape-pipes of the engine were carried high aloft, above the topmost of the tiers of decks, and from each one alternately, when the boat was under way, would burst a gush of steam, with a sound like a dull puff, followed by a prolonged sigh, which could be heard far away beyond the dense forests that bordered the river. a row of posts, always in appearance, too slender for the load they bore, supported the saloon deck some fifteen feet above the main deck. when business was good on the river, the space within was packed tight with freight, leaving barely room enough for passenger gangways, and for the men feeding the roaring furnaces with pine slabs. a great steamer coming down to new orleans from the cotton country about the red river, loaded to the water's edge with cotton bales, so that, from the shore, she looked herself like a monster cotton bale, surmounted by tiers of snowy cabins and pouring forth steam and smoke from towering pipes, was a sight long to be remembered. it is a sight, too, that is still common on the lower river, where the business of gathering up the planter's crop and getting it to market has not yet passed wholly into the hands of the railroads. [illustration: a deck load of cotton] above the cargo and the roaring furnaces rose the cabins, two or three tiers, one atop the other, the topmost one extending only about one-third of the length of the boat, and called the "texas." the main saloon extending the whole length of the boat, save for a bit of open deck at bow and stern, was in comparison with the average house of the time, palatial. on either side it was lined by rows of doors, each opening into a two-berthed stateroom. the decoration was usually ivory white, and on the main panel of each door was an oil painting of some romantic landscape. there chillon brooded over the placid azure of the lake, there storms broke with jagged lightning in the andes, there buxom girls trod out the purple grapes of some italian vineyard. the builders of each new steamer strove to eclipse all earlier ones in the brilliancy of these works of art, and discussion of the relative merits of the paintings on the "natchez" and those on the "baton rouge" came to be the chief theme of art criticism along the river. bright crimson carpet usually covered the floor of the long, tunnel-like cabin. down the center were ranged the tables, about which, thrice a day, the hungry passengers gathered to be fed, while from the ceiling depended chandeliers, from which hung prismatic pendants, tinkling pleasantly as the boat vibrated with the throb of her engines. at one end of the main saloon was the ladies' cabin, discreetly cut off by crimson curtains; at the other, the bar, which, in a period when copious libations of alcoholic drinks were at least as customary for men as the cigar to-day, was usually a rallying point for the male passengers. far up above the yellow river, perched on top of the "texas," or topmost tier of cabins, was the pilot-house, that honorable eminence of glass and painted wood which it was the ambition of every boy along the river some day to occupy. this was a great square box, walled in mainly with glass. square across the front of it rose the huge wheel, eight feet in diameter, sometimes half-sunken beneath the floor, so that the pilot, in moments of stress, might not only grip it with his hands, but stand on its spokes, as well. easy chairs and a long bench made up the furniture of this sacred apartment. in front of it rose the two towering iron chimneys, joined, near the top by an iron grating that usually carried some gaudily colored or gilded device indicative of the line to which the boat belonged. amidships, and aft of the pilot-house, rose the two escape pipes, from which the hoarse, prolonged s-o-o-ugh of the high pressure exhaust burst at half-minute intervals, carrying to listeners miles away, the news that a boat was coming. all this edifice above the hull of the boat, was of the flimsiest construction, built of pine scantling, liberally decorated with scroll-saw work, and lavishly covered with paint mixed with linseed oil. beneath it were two, four, or six roaring furnaces fed with rich pitch-pine, and open on every side to drafts and gusts. from the top of the great chimneys poured volcanic showers of sparks, deluging the inflammable pile with a fiery rain. the marvel is not that every year saw its quotum of steamers burned to the water's edge, but, rather, that the quota were proportionately so small. at midnight this apparent inflammability was even more striking. lights shone from the windows of the long row of cabins, and wherever there was a chink, or a bit of glass, or a latticed blind, the radiance streamed forth as though within were a great mass of fire, struggling, in every way, to escape. below, the boiler deck was dully illumined by smoky lanterns; but when one of the great doors of the roaring furnace was thrown open, that the half-naked black firemen might throw in more pitch-pine slabs, there shone forth such a fiery glare, that the boat and the machinery--working in the open, and plain to view--seemed wrapped in a vesuvius of flame, and the sturdy stokers and lounging roustabouts looked like the fiends in a fiery inferno. the danger was not merely apparent, but very real. during the early days of steamboating, fires and boiler explosions were of frequent occurrence. a river boat, once ablaze, could never be saved, and the one hope for the passengers was that it might be beached before the flames drove them overboard. the endeavor to do this brought out some examples of magnificent heroism among captains, pilots, and engineers, who, time and again, stood manfully at their posts, though scorched by flames, and cut off from any hope of escape, until the boat's prow was thrust well into the bank, and the passengers were all saved. the pilots, in the presence of such disaster, were in the sorest straits, and were, moreover, the ones of the boat's company upon whom most depended the fate of those on board. perched at the very top of a large tinder-box, all avenues of escape except a direct plunge overboard were quickly closed to them. if they left the wheel the current would inevitably swing the boat's head downstream, and she would drift, aimlessly, a flaming funeral pyre for all on board. many a pilot stood, with clenched teeth, and eyes firm set upon the distant shore, while the fire roared below and behind him, and the terrified passengers edged further and further forward as the flames pressed their way toward the bow, until at last came the grinding sound under the hull, and the sudden shock that told of shoal water and safety. then, those on the lower deck might drop over the side, or swarm along the windward gangplank to safety, but the pilot too often was hemmed in by the flames, and perished with his vessel. [illustration: feeding the furnace] in the year 1840 alone there were 109 steamboat disasters chronicled, with a loss of fifty-nine vessels and 205 lives. the high-pressure boilers used on the river, cheaply built, and for many years not subjected to any official inspection, contributed more than their share to the list of accidents. boiler explosions were so common as to be reckoned upon every time a voyage was begun. passengers were advised to secure staterooms aft when possible, as the forward part of the boat was the more apt to be shattered if the boiler "went up." every river town had its citizens who had survived an explosion, and the stock form into which to put the humorous quip or story of the time was to have it told by the clerk going up as he met the captain in the air coming down, with the débris of the boat flying all about them. as the river boats improved in character, disasters of this sort became less frequent, and the united states, by establishing a rigid system of boiler inspection, and compelling engineers to undergo a searching examination into their fitness before receiving a license, has done much to guard against them. yet to-day, we hear all too frequently of river steamers blown to bits, and all on board lost, though it is a form of disaster almost unknown on eastern waters where crowded steamboats ply the sound, the hudson, the connecticut, and the potomac, year after year, with never a disaster. the cheaper material of western boats has something to do with this difference, but a certain happy-go-lucky, devil-may-care spirit, which has characterized the western riverman since the days of the broadhorns, is chiefly responsible. most often an explosion is the result of gross carelessness--a sleepy engineer, and a safety-valve "out of kilter," as too many of them often are, have killed their hundreds on the western rivers. sometimes, however, the almost criminal rashness, of which captains were guilty, in a mad rush for a little cheap glory, ended in a deafening crash, the annihilation of a good boat, and the death of scores of her people by drowning, or the awful torture of inhaling scalding steam. rivalry between the different boats was fierce, and now and then at the sight of a competitor making for a landing where freight and passengers awaited the first boat to land her gangplank, the alert captain would not unnaturally take some risks to get there first. those were the moments that resulted in methods in the engine room picturesquely described as "feeding the fires with fat bacon and resin, and having a nigger sit on the safety valve." to such impromptu races might be charged the most terrifying accidents in the history of the river. but the great races, extending sometimes for more than a thousand miles up the river, and carefully planned for months in advance, were seldom, if ever, marred by an accident. for then every man on both boats was on the alert, from pilot down to fuel passer. the boat was trimmed by guidance of a spirit level until she rode the water at precisely the draft that assured the best speed. her hull was scraped and oiled, her machinery overhauled, and her fuel carefully selected. picked men made up her crew, and all the upper works that could be disposed of were landed before the race, in order to decrease air resistance. it was the current pleasantry to describe the captain as shaving off his whiskers lest they catch the breeze, and parting his hair in the middle, that the boat might be the better trimmed. few passengers were taken, for they could not be relied upon to "trim ship," but would be sure to crowd to one side or the other at a critical moment. only through freight was shipped--and little of that--for there would be no stops made from starting-point to goal. of course, neither boat could carry all the fuel--pine-wood slabs--needed for a long voyage, but by careful prearrangement, great "flats" loaded with wood, awaited them at specified points in midstream. the steamers slowed to half-speed, the flats were made fast alongside by cables, and nimble negroes transferred the wood, while the race went on. at every riverside town the wharves and roofs would be black with people, awaiting the two rivals, whose appearance could be foretold almost as exactly as that of a railway train running on schedule time. the firing of rifles and cannon, the blowing of horns, the waving of flags, greeted the racers from the shores by day, and great bonfires saluted them by night. at some of the larger towns they would touch for a moment to throw off mail, or to let a passenger leap ashore. then every nerve of captain, pilot, and crew was on edge with the effort to tie up and get away first. up in the pilot-house the great man of the wheel took shrewd advantage of every eddy and back current; out on the guards the humblest roustabout stood ready for a life-risking leap to get the hawser to the dock at the earliest instant. all the operations of the boat had been reduced to an exact science, so that when the crack packets were pitted against each other in a long race, their maneuvers would be as exactly matched in point of time consumed as those of two yachts sailing for the "america's" cup. side by side, they would steam for hundreds of miles, jockeying all the way for the most favorable course. it was a fact that often such boats were so evenly matched that victory would hang almost entirely on the skill of the pilot, and where of two pilots on one boat one was markedly inferior, his watch at the wheel could be detected by the way the rival boat forged ahead. during the golden days on the river, there were many of these races, but the most famous of them all was that between the "robert e. lee" and the "natchez," in 1870. these boats, the pride of all who lived along the river at that time, raced from new orleans to st. louis. at natchez, 268 miles, they were six minutes apart; at cairo, 1024 miles, the "lee" was three hours and thirty-four minutes ahead. she came in winner by six hours and thirty-six minutes, but the officers of the "natchez" claimed that this was not a fair test of the relative speed of the boats, as they had been delayed by fog and for repairs to machinery for about seven hours. spectacular and picturesque was the riverside life of the great mississippi towns in the steamboat days. mark twain has described the scenes along the levee at new orleans at "steamboat time" in a bit of word-painting, which brings all the rush and bustle, the confusion, turmoil and din, clearly to the eye: "it was always the custom for boats to leave new orleans between four and five o'clock in the afternoon. from three o'clock onward, they would be burning resin and pitch-pine (the sign of preparation) and so one had the spectacle of a rank, some two or three miles long, of tall, ascending columns of coal-black smoke, a colonnade which supported a roof of the same smoke, blending together and spreading abroad over the city. every outward-bound boat had its flag flying at the jack-staff, and sometimes a duplicate on the verge-staff astern. two or three miles of mates were commanding and swearing with more than usual emphasis. countless processions of freight, barrels, and boxes, were spinning athwart the levee, and flying aboard the stage-planks. belated passengers were dodging and skipping among these frantic things, hoping to reach the forecastle companion-way alive, but having their doubts about it. women with reticules and bandboxes were trying to keep up with husbands freighted with carpet sacks and crying babies, and making a failure of it by losing their heads in the whirl and roar and general distraction. drays and baggage-vans were clattering hither and thither in a wild hurry, every now and then getting blocked and jammed together, and then, during ten seconds, one could not see them for the profanity, except vaguely and dimly. every windlass connected with every forehatch from one end of that long array of steamboats to the other, was keeping up a deafening whiz and whir, lowering freight into the hold, and the half-naked crews of perspiring negroes that worked them were roaring such songs as 'de las' sack! de las' sack!!' inspired to unimaginable exaltation by the chaos of turmoil and racket that was driving everybody else mad. by this time the hurricane and boiler decks of the packets would be packed and black with passengers, the last bells would begin to clang all down the line, and then the pow-wows seemed to double. in a moment or two the final warning came, a simultaneous din of chinese gongs with the cry, 'all dat aint going, please to get ashore,' and, behold, the pow-wow quadrupled. people came swarming ashore, overturning excited stragglers that were trying to swarm aboard. one moment later, a long array of stage-planks was being hauled in, each with its customary latest passenger clinging to the end of it, with teeth, nails, and everything else, and the customary latest procrastinator making a wild spring ashore over his head. "now a number of the boats slide backward into the stream, leaving wide gaps in the serried rank of steamers. citizens crowd on the decks of boats that were not to go, in order to see the sight. steamer after steamer straightens herself up, gathers all her strength, and presently comes swinging by, under a tremendous head of steam, with flags flying, smoke rolling, and her entire crew of firemen and deck hands (usually swarthy negroes) massed together on the forecastle, the best voice in the lot towering in their midst (being mounted on the capstan) waving his hat or a flag, all roaring in a mighty chorus, while the parting cannons boom, and the multitudinous spectators swing their hats and huzza. steamer after steamer pulls into the line, and the stately procession goes winging its flight up the river." until 1865 the steamboats controlled the transportation business of all the territory drained by the mississippi and its tributaries. but two causes for their undoing had already begun to work. the long and fiercely-fought war had put a serious check to the navigation of the rivers. for long months the mississippi was barricaded by the confederate works at island number 10, at new madrid and at vicksburg. even after grant and farragut had burst these shackles navigation was attended with danger from guerrillas on the banks and trade was dead. when peace brought the promise of better things, the railroads were there to take advantage of it. from every side they were pushing their way into new orleans, building roadways across the "trembling prairies," and crossing the water-logged country about the rigolets on long trestles. they penetrated the cotton country and the mineral country. they paralleled the ohio, the tennessee, and the cumberland, as well as the father of waters, and the steamboat lines began to feel the heavy hand of competition. captains and clerks found it prudent to abate something of their dignity. instead of shippers pleading for deck-room on the boats, the boats' agents had to do the pleading. instead of levees crowded with freight awaiting carriage there were broad, empty spaces by the river's bank, while the railroad freight-houses up town held the bales of cotton, the bundles of staves, the hogsheads of sugar, the shingles and lumber. on long hauls the railroads quickly secured all the north and south business, though indeed, the hauling of freight down the river for shipment to europe was ended for both railroads and steamboats, so far as the products raised north of the tennessee line was concerned. for a new water route to the sea had been opened and wondrously developed. the great lakes were the shortest waterway to the atlantic, and new york dug its erie canal which afforded an outlet--pinched and straitened, it is true, but still an outlet--for the cargoes of the lake schooners and the early steamers of the unsalted seas. even the commonwealths forming the north bank of the ohio river turned their faces away from the stream that had started them on the pathway to wealth and greatness, and dug canals to lake erie, that their wheat, corn, and other products might reach tidewater by the shortest route. the great cargoes from cincinnati, st. louis, and louisville, began to be legends of the past, and the larger boats were put on routes in louisiana, or on the mississippi, from natchez south, while others were reduced to mere local voyages, gathering up freight from points tributary to st. louis. the glory of the river faded fast, and the final stroke was dealt it when some man of inventive mind discovered that a little, puffing tug, costing one-tenth as much as a fine steamboat, could push broad acres of flatboats, loaded with coal, lumber, or cotton, down the tortuous stream, and return alone at one-tenth the expense of a heavy steamer. that was the final stroke to the picturesqueness and the romance of river life. the volume of freight carried still grows apace, but the glory of mississippi steamboat life is gone forever. **transcriber's note: page 268: change infreqently to infrequently chapter ix the new england fisheries--their part in effecting the settlement of america--their rapid development--wide extent of the trade--effort of lord north to destroy it--the fishermen in the revolution--efforts to encourage the industry--its part in politics and diplomacy--the fishing banks--types of boats--growth of the fishing communities--farmers and sailors by turns--the education of the fishermen--methods of taking mackerel--the seine and the trawl--scant profits of the industry--perils of the banks--some personal experiences--the fog and the fast liners--the tribute of human life. the summer yachtsman whiling away an idle month in cruises up and down that new england coast which, once stern and rock-bound, has come to be the smiling home of midsummer pleasures, encounters at each little port into which he may run, moldering and decrepit wharves, crowned with weatherbeaten and leaky structures, waterside streets lined with shingled fish-houses in an advanced stage of decay, and acres of those low platforms known as flakes, on which at an earlier day the product of the new england fisheries was spread out to dry in the sun, but which now are rapidly disintegrating and mingling again with the soil from which the wood of their structures sprung. every harbor on the new england coast, from new bedford around to the canadian line, bears these dumb memorials to the gradual decadence of what was once our foremost national industry. for the fisheries which once nursed for us a school of the hardiest seamen, which aroused the jealousy of england and france, which built up our seaport towns, and carried our flag to the furthest corners of the globe, and which in the records both of diplomacy and war fill a prominent place have been for the last twenty years appreciably tending to disappear. many causes are assigned for this. the growing scarcity of certain kinds of fish, the repeal of encouraging legislation, a change in the taste of certain peoples to whom we shipped large quantities of the finny game, the competition of canadians and frenchmen, the great development of the salmon fisheries and salmon canning on the pacific coast, all have contributed to this decay. it is proper, however, to note that the decadence of the fisheries is to some extent more apparent than real. true, there are fewer towns supported by this industry, fewer boats and men engaged in it; but in part this is due to the fact that the steam fishing boat carrying a large fleet of dories accomplishes in one season with fewer hands eight or ten times the work that the old-fashioned pink or schooner did. and, moreover, as the population of the seaport towns has grown, the apparent prominence of the fishing industry has decreased, as that industry has not grown in proportion to the population. forty years ago marblehead and nantucket were simply fishing villages, and nothing else. to-day the remnants of the fishing industry attract but little attention, in the face of the vastly more profitable and important calling of entertaining the summer visitor. new bedford has become a great factory town, lynn and hull are great centers for the shoemaking industries. when the pilgrim fathers first concluded to make their journey to the new england coast and sought of the english king a charter, they were asked by the thrifty james, what profit might arise. "fishing," was the answer. whereupon, according to the narrative of edward winslow, the king replied, "so, god have my soul; 'tis an honest trade; 'twas the apostles' own calling." the redoubtable captain john smith, making his way to the new england coast from virginia, happened to drop a fishline over what is known now as george's bank. the miraculous draught of fishes which followed did not awaken in his mind the same pious reflections to which king james gave expression. rather was he moved to exultation over the profit which he saw there. "truly," he said, in a letter to his correspondent in london, "it is a pleasant thing to drop a line and pull up threepence, fivepence, and sixpence as fast as one may haul in." the gallant soldier of fortune was evidently quite awake to the possibilities of profit upon which he had stumbled. yet, probably even he would have been amazed could he have known that within fifty years not all the land in the colony of massachusetts bay, nor in the providence and rhode island plantations produced so much of value as the annual crop the fishermen harvested on the shallow banks off cape cod. as early as 1633 fish began to be exported from boston, and very shortly thereafter the industry had assumed so important a position that the general court adopted laws for its encouragement, exempting vessels, and stock from taxation, and granting to fishermen immunity from military duty. at the close of the seventeenth century, massachusetts was exporting over $400,000 worth of fish annually. from that time until well into the middle of the last century the fisheries were so thoroughly the leading industry of massachusetts that the gilded codfish which crowns the dome of the state house at boston, only fitly typifies by its prominence above the city the part which its natural prototypes played in building up the commonwealth. in the revolution and the early wars of the united states, the fishermen suffered severely. crowded together on the banks, they were easy prey for the british cruisers, who, in time of peace or in time of war, treated them about as they chose, impressing such sailors as seemed useful, and seizing such of their cargo as the whim of the captain of the cruiser might suggest. and even before the colonies had attained the status of a nation, the jealousy and hostility of great britain bore heavily on the fortunes of the new england fishermen. it was then, as it has been until the present day, the policy of great britain to build up in every possible way its navy, and to encourage by all imaginable devices the development of a large body of able seamen, by whom the naval vessels might be manned. accordingly parliament undertook to discourage the american fisherman by hostile legislation, so that a body of deep-sea fishermen might be created claiming english ports for their home. at first the effort was made to prohibit the colonies from exporting fish. the great roman catholic countries of france, spain, and portugal took by far the greater share of the fish sent out, though the poorer qualities were shipped to the west indies and there exchanged for sugar and molasses. against this trade lord north leveled some of his most offensive measures, proposing bills, indeed, so unjust and tyrannical that outcries were raised against them even in the british house of lords. to cut off intercourse with the foreign peoples who took the fish of the yankees by hundreds and thousands of quintals, and gave in return rum, molasses, and bills of exchange on england, to destroy the calling in which every little new england seacoast village was interested above all things, lord north first proposed to prohibit the colonies trading in fish with any country save the "mother" country, and secondly, to refuse to the people of new england the right to fish on the great banks of newfoundland, thus confining them to the off-shore banks, which already began to show signs of being fished out. even a hostile parliament was shocked by these measures. every witness who appeared before the house of commons testified that they would work irreparable injury to new england, would rob six thousand of her able-bodied men of their means of livelihood, and would drive ten thousand more into other vocations. but the power of the ministry forced the bills through, though twenty-one peers joined in a solemn protest. "we dissent," said they, "because the attempt to coerce, by famine, the whole body of the inhabitants of great and populous provinces, is without example in the history of this, or, perhaps, of any civilized nations." this was in 1775, and the revolution in america had already begun. it was the policy of lord north to force the colonists to stop their opposition to unjust and offensive laws by imposing upon them other laws more unjust and more offensive still--a sort of homeopathic treatment, not infrequently applied by tyrants, but which seldom proves effective. in this case it aligned the new england fishermen to a man with the revolutionists. a tory fisherman would have fared as hard as "old floyd ireson for his hard heart tarr'd and feathered and carried in a cart, by the woman of marblehead." nor was this any inconsiderable or puny element which lord north had deliberately forced into revolt. massachusetts alone had at the outbreak of the revolution five hundred fishing vessels, and the town of marblehead one hundred and fifty sea-going fishing schooners. gloucester had nearly as many, and all along the coast, from maine to new york, there were thrifty settlers, farmers and fishermen, by turns, as the season served. new england was preeminently a maritime state. its people had early discovered that a livelihood could more easily be plucked from the green surges of ocean, white-capped as they sometimes were, than wrested from the green and boulder-crowned hills. upon the fisheries rested practically all the foreign commerce. they were the foundation upon which were built the superstructure of comfort and even luxury, the evidences of which are impressive even in the richer new england of to-day. therefore, when the british ministry attacked this calling, it roused against the crown not merely the fisherman and the sailor, but the merchants as well--not only the denizens of the stuffy forecastles of pinks and schooners, but the owners of the fair great houses in boston and new bedford. lord north's edicts stopped some thousands of sturdy sailors from catching cod and selling them to foreign peoples. they accordingly became privateers, and preyed upon british commerce until it became easier for a mackerel to slip through the meshes of a seine than for a british ship to make its usual voyages. the edicts touched the commercial bostonians in their pockets, and stimulated them to give to the revolution that countenance and support of the "business classes" which revolutionary movements are apt to lack, and lacking which, are apt to fail. the war, of course, left the fisheries crippled and almost destroyed. it had been a struggle between the greatest naval power of the world, and a loose coalition of independent colonies, without a navy and without a centralized power to build and maintain one. massachusetts did, indeed, equip an armed ship to protect her fishermen, but partly because the protection was inadequate, and partly as a result of the superior attractions of privateering, the fishing boats were gradually laid up, until scarcely enough remained in commission to supply the demands of the home merchant for fish. where there had been prosperity and bustle about wharves, and fish-houses, there succeeded idleness and squalor. shipbuilding was prostrate, commerce was dead. the sailors returned to the farms, shipped on the privateers, or went into washington's army. but when peace was declared, they flocked to their boats, and began to rebuild their shattered industry. marblehead, which went into the war with 12,000 tons of shipping, came out with 1500. her able-bodied male citizens had decreased in numbers from 1200 to 500. six hundred of her sons, used to hauling the seine and baiting the trawl, were in british prisons. how many from this and other fishing ports were pressed against their will into service on british men-of-war, history has no figures to show; but there were hundreds. yet, prostrate as the industry was, it quickly revived, and soon again attained those noble proportions that had enabled edmund burke to say of it, in defending the colonies before the house of commons: "no ocean but what is vexed with their fisheries; no climate that is not witness of their toils. neither the perseverance of holland, nor the activity of france, nor the dextrous and firm sagacity of english enterprise ever carried this perilous mode of hardy enterprise to the extent to which it has been pushed by this recent people--a people who are still, as it were, in the gristle, and not yet hardened into the bone of manhood." in 1789, immediately upon the formation of the government under which we now live, the system of giving bounties to the deep-sea fishermen was inaugurated and was continued down to the middle of the last century, when a treaty with england led to its discontinuance. the wisest statesmen and publicists differ sharply concerning the effect of bounties and special governmental favors, like tariffs and rebates, upon the favored industry, and so, as long as the fishing bounty was continued, its needfulness was sharply questioned by one school, while ever since its withdrawal the opposing school has ascribed to that act all the later ills of the industry. indeed, as this chapter is being written, a subsidy measure before congress for the encouragement of american shipping, contains a proviso for a direct payment from the national treasury to fishing vessels, proportioned to their size and the numbers of their crews. it is not my purpose to discuss the merits, either of the measure now pending, or of the many which have, from time to time, encouraged or depressed our fishermen. it would be hard, however, for any one to read the history of the fisheries without being impressed by the fact that the hardy and gallant men who have risked their lives in this most arduous of pursuits, have suffered from too much government, often being sorely injured by a measure intended solely for their good, as in the case of the treaty of 1818. that instrument was negotiated for the purpose of maintaining the rights of american fishermen on the banks off newfoundland, labrador, and nova scotia. the american commissioners failed to insist upon the right of the fishermen to land for bait, and this omission, together with an ambiguity in defining the "three-mile limit," enabled the british government to harass, harry, and even confiscate american fishermen for years. american fleets were sent into the disputed waters, and two nations were brought to the point of war over the question which should control the taking of fish in waters that belonged to neither, and that held more than enough for all peoples. to settle the dispute the united states finally entered into another treaty which secured the fishermen the rights ignored in the treaty of 1818, but threw american markets open to canadian fishermen. this the men of gloucester and marblehead, nurtured in the school of protection, declared made their last state worse than the first. so the tinkering of statutes and treaties went on, even to the present day, the fisheries languishing meanwhile, not in our country alone, but in all engaged in the effort to get special privileges on the fishing grounds. whenever man tries thus to monopolize, by sharp practise or exclusive laws, the bounty which god has provided in abundance for all, the end is confusion, distress, disaster, and too often war. but the story of what the politicians, and those postgraduates of politics, the statesmen, have done for and against the fishermen of new england, is not that which i have to tell. rather, it is my purpose to tell something of the lives of the fishermen, the style of their vessels, the portions of the rolling atlantic which they visit in search of their prey, their dire perils, their rough pleasures, and their puny profits. first, then, as to their prey, and its haunts. the new england fishermen, in the main, seek three sorts of fish--the mackerel, the cod, and the halibut. these they find on the shallow banks which border the coast from the southern end of delaware to the very entrance of baffin's bay. the mackerel is a summer fish, coming and going with the regularity of the equinoxes themselves. early in march, they appear off the coast, and all summer work their way northward, until, in early november, they disappear off the coast of labrador, as suddenly as though some titanic seine had swept the ocean clear of them. what becomes of the mackerel in winter, neither the inquisitive fisherman nor the investigating scientist has ever been able to determine. they do not, like migratory birds, reappear in more temperate southern climes, but vanish utterly from sight. eight months, therefore, is the term of the mackerel fishing, and the men engaged in it escape the bitterest rigors of the winter fisheries on the newfoundland banks, where the cod is taken from january to january. yet it has dangers of its own--dangers of a sort that, to the sailor, are more menacing than the icebergs or even the swift-rushing ocean liners of the great banks. for mackerel fishing is pursued close in shore, in shallow water, where the sand lies a scant two fathoms below the surface, and a north-east wind will, in a few minutes, raise, a roaring sea that will pound the stoutest vessel to bits against the bottom. with plenty of sea-room, and water enough under the keel, the sailor cares little for wind or waves; but in the shallows, with the beach only a few miles to the leeward, and the breakers showing white through the darkness, like the fangs of a beast of prey, the captain of a fishing schooner on george's banks has need of every resource of the sailor, if he is to beat his way off, and not feed the fishes that he came to take. nowhere is the barometer watched more carefully than on the boats cruising about on george's. when its warning column falls, the whole fleet makes for the open sea, however good the fishing may be. but, with all possible caution, the losses are so many that george's, early in its history, came to have the ghoulish nickname of "dead men's bank." north of george's bank--which lies directly east of cape cod--are found, in order, brown's bank, la have, western bank--in the center of which lies sable island, famed as an ocean graveyard, whose shifting sands are as thickly strewn with the bleaching ribs of stout ships as an old green churchyard is set with mossy marbles--st. peter's bank, and the grand bank of newfoundland. all of these lie further out to sea than george's, and are tenanted only by cod and halibut, though in the waters near the shore the fishermen pursue the mackerel, the herring--which, in cottonseed oil masquerades as american sardines--and the menhaden, used chiefly for fertilizer. the boats used in the fisheries are virtually of the same model, whatever the fish they may seek--except in the case of the menhaden fishery, which more and more is being prosecuted in slow-going steamers, with machines for hauling seines, and trawl nets. but the typical fishing boat engaged in the food fisheries is a trim, swift schooner, built almost on the lines of a yacht, and modeled after a type designed by edward burgess, one of new england's most famous yacht designers. seaworthy and speedy both are these fishing boats of to-day, fit almost to sail for the "america's" cup, modeled, as they are, from a craft built by the designer of a successful cup defender. that the fishermen ply their calling in vessels so perfectly fitted to their needs is due to a notable exhibition of common sense and enterprise on the part of the united states fish commission. some years ago almost anything that would float was thought good enough for the bank fishermen. in the earliest days of the industry, small sloops were used. these gave way to the "chebacco boat," a boat taking its name from the town of chebacco, massachusetts, where its rig was first tested. this was a fifteen to twenty ton boat almost as sharp at the stern as in the bow, carrying two masts, both cat-rigged. a perfect marvel of crankiness a boat so rigged would seem; but the new england seamen became so expert in handling them that they took them to all of the fishing banks, and even made cruises to the west indies with cargoes of fish, bringing back molasses and rum. a development of the chebacco boat was the pink, differing only in its rig, which was of the schooner model. but in time the regular schooner crowded out all other types of fishing vessels. in 1882, the members of the fish commission, studying the frightful record of wrecks and drownings among the gloucester and marblehead fishermen, reached the conclusion that an improved model fishing boat might be the means of saving scores of lives. the old model was seen to be too heavily rigged, with too square a counter, and insufficient draught. accordingly, a model boat, the "grampus," was designed, the style of which has been pretty generally followed in the fishing fleet. [illustration: on the banks.] such a typical craft is a schooner of about eighty tons, clean-cut about the bows, and with a long overhang at the stern that would give her a rakish, yacht-like air, except for the evidences of her trade, with which her deck is piled. her hull is of the cutter model, sharp and deep, affording ample storage room. she has a cabin aft, and a roomy forecastle, though such are the democratic conditions of the fishing trade that part of the crew bunks aft with the skipper. the galley, a little box of a place, is directly abaft the foremast, and back of it to the cabin, are the fishbins for storing fish, after they are cleaned and salted or iced. nowadays, when the great cities, within a few hours' sail of the banks, offer a quick market for fresh fish, many of the fishing boats bring in their catch alive--a deep well, always filled with sea-water, taking the place of the fishbins. the deck, forward of the trunk cabin, is flush, and provided with "knockdown" partitions, so that hundreds of flapping fish may be confined to any desired portion. amidships of the bankers rises a pile of five or six dories, the presence of which tells the story of the schooner's purpose, for fishing on the grand banks for cod is mainly done with trawls which must be tended from dories--a method which has resulted in countless cruel tragedies. the lives of the men who go down to the sea in ships are always full of romance, the literary value of which has been fully exploited by such writers of sea stories as cooper and clark russell. but the romance of the typical sailor's life is that which grows out of a ceaseless struggle with the winds and waves, out of world-wide wanderings, and encounters with savages and pirates. it is the romance which makes up melodrama, rather than that of the normal life. the early new england fishermen, however, were something more than vagrants on the surface of the seas. in their lives were often combined the peaceful vocations of the farmer or woodsman, with the adventurous calling of the sailor. for months out of the year, the maine fisherman would be working in the forests, felling great trees, guiding the tugging ox-teams to the frozen rivers, which with spring would float the timber down to tidewater. when winter's grip was loosened, he, like the sturdy logs his axe had shaped, would find his way to where the air was full of salt, and the owners of pinks and schooners were painting their craft, running over the rigging, and bargaining with the outfitters for stores for the spring cruise. from massachusetts and rhode island farms men would flock to the little ports, leaving behind the wife and younger boys to take care of the homestead, until the husband and father returned from the banks in the fall, with his summer's earnings. his luck at fishing, her luck with corn and calves and pigs, determined the scale of the winter's living. some of the fishermen were not only farmers, as well, but ship-builders and ship-owners, too. if the farm happened to front on some little cove, the frame of a schooner would be set up there on the beach, and all winter long the fisherman-farmer-builder would work away with adze and saw and hammer, putting together the stout hull that would defend him in time against the shock of the north-east sea. his own forest land supplied the oak trees, keelson, ribs, and stem. the neighboring sawmill shaped his planks. one lucky cruise as a hand on a fishing boat owned by a friend would earn him enough to pay for the paint and cordage. with yankee ingenuity he shaped the iron work at his own forge--evading in its time the stupid british law that forbade the colonists to make nails or bolts. two winters' labor would often give the thrifty builder a staunch boat of his own, to be christened the "polly ann," or the "mary jane"--more loyal to family ties than to poetic euphony were the yankee fishermen--with which he would drive into the teeth of the north-east gale, breaking through the waves as calmly as in early spring at home he forced his plough through the stubble. there was, too, in those early days of the fisheries, a certain patriarchal relation maintained between owner and crew that finds no parallel in modern times. the first step upward of the fisherman was to the quarter-deck. as captain, he had a larger responsibility, and received a somewhat larger share of the catch, than any of his crew. then, if thrifty, or if possessed of a shipyard at home, such as i have described, he soon became an owner. in time, perhaps, he would add one or two schooners to his fleet, and then stay ashore as owner and outfitter, sending out his boats on shares. fishermen who had attained to this dignity, built those fine, old, great houses, which we see on the water-front in some parts of new england--square, simple, shingled to the ground, a deck perched on the ridge-pole of the hipped roof, the frame built of oak shaped like a ship's timbers, with axe and adze. the lawns before the houses sloped down to the water where, in the days of the old prosperity, the owner's schooner might be seen, resting lightly at anchor, or tied up to one of the long, frail wharves, discharging cargo--wharves black and rotting now, and long unused to the sailor's cheery cry. there, too, would be the flakes for drying fish, the houses on the wharves for storing supplies, and the packed product, and the little store in which the outfitter kept the simple stock of necessaries from which all who shipped on his fleet were welcome to draw for themselves and their families, until their "ship came in." to such a fishing port would flock the men from farm and forest, as the season for mackerel drew nigh. the first order at the store would include a pair of buck (red leather) or rubber boots, ten or fifteen pounds of tobacco, clay pipe, sou'-westers, a jack-knife, and oil-clothes. if the sailor was single, the account would stop there, until his schooner came back to port. if he had a family, a long list of groceries, pork and beans, molasses, coffee, flour, and coarse cloth, would be bought on credit, for the folks at home. it came about naturally that these folks preferred to be near the store at which the family had credit, and so the sailors would, in time, buy little plots of land in the neighborhood, and build thereon their snug shingled cottages. so sprung up the fishing villages of new england. the boys who grew up in these villages were able to swim as soon as they could walk; rowed and sailed boats before they could guide a plow; could give the location of every bank, the sort of fish that frequented it, and the season for taking them. they could name every rope and clew, every brace and stay on a pink or chebacco boat before they reached words of two syllables in webster's blue-backed spelling-book; the mysteries of trawls and handlines, of baits and hooks were unraveled to them while still in the nursery, and the songs that lulled them to sleep were often doleful ditties of castaways on george's bank. often they were shipped as early as their tenth year, going as a rule in schooners owned or commanded by relatives. it was no easy life that the youngster entered upon when first he attained the dignity of being a "cut-tail," but such as it was, it was the life he had looked forward to ever since he was old enough to consider the future. he lived in a little forecastle, heated by a stuffy stove, which it was his business to keep supplied with fuel. the bunks on either side held rough men, not over nice of language or of act, smoking and playing cards through most of their hours of leisure. from time immemorial it has been a maxim of the forecastle that the way to educate a boy is to "harden" him, and the hardening process has usually taken the form of persistent brutality of usage--the rope's end, the heavy hand, the hard-flung boot followed swift upon transgression of the laws or customs of ship or forecastle. the "cut-tail" was everybody's drudge, yet gloried in it, and a boy of gloucester or marblehead, who had lived his twelve years without at least one voyage to his credit, was in as sorry a state among his fellow urchins as a "little lord fauntleroy" would be in the company of tom sawyer and huckleberry finn. the intimacies of the village streets were continued on the ocean. fish supplanted marbles as objects of prime importance in the urchin's mind. the smallest fishing village would have two or three boats out on the banks, and the larger town several hundred. between the crews of these vessels existed always the keenest rivalry, which had abundant opportunity for its exhibition, since the conditions of the fishery were such that the schooners cruised for weeks, perhaps, in fleets of several hundred. every maneuver was made under the eyes of the whole fleet, and each captain and sailor felt that among the critics were probably some of his near neighbors at home. charles nordhoff, who followed a youth spent at sea with a long life of honorable and brilliant activity in journalism, describes the watchfulness of the fleet as he had often seen it: "the fleet is the aggregate of all the vessels engaged in the mackerel fishery. experience has taught fishermen that the surest way to find mackerel is to cruise in one vast body, whose line of search will then extend over an area of many miles. when, as sometimes happens, a single vessel falls in with a large 'school,' the catch is, of course, much greater. but vessels cruising separately or in small squads are much less likely to fall in with fish than is the large fleet. 'the fleet' is therefore the aim of every mackerel fisherman. the best vessels generally maintain a position to the windward. mackerel mostly work to windward slowly, and those vessels furthest to windward in the fleet are therefore most likely to fall in with fish first, while from their position they can quickly run down should mackerel be raised to leeward. "thus, in a collection of from six hundred to a thousand vessels, cruising in one vast body, and spreading over many miles of water, is kept up a constant, though silent and imperceptible communication, by means of incessant watching with good spy-glasses. this is so thorough that a vessel at one end of the fleet cannot have mackerel 'alongside,' technically speaking, five minutes, before every vessel in a circle, the diameter of which may be ten miles, will be aware of the fact, and every man of the ten thousand composing their crews will be engaged in spreading to the wind every available stitch of canvas to force each little bark as quickly as possible into close proximity to the coveted prize." to come upon the mackerel fleet suddenly, perhaps with the lifting of the fog's gray curtain, or just as the faint dawn above the tossing horizon line to the east began to drive away the dark, was a sight to stir the blood of a lad born to the sea. sometimes nearly a thousand vessels would be huddled together in a space hardly more than a mile square. at night, their red and green lights would swing rhythmically up and down as the little craft were tossed by the long rollers of old atlantic, in whose black bosom the gay colors were reflected in subdued hues. from this floating city, with a population of perhaps ten thousand souls, no sound arises except the occasional roar of a breaking swell, the creaking of cordage, and the "chug-chug" of the vessel's bows as they drop into the trough of the sea. all sails are furled, the bare poles showing black against the starlit sky, and, with one man on watch on the deck, each drifts idly before the breeze. below, in stuffy cabins and fetid forecastles, the men are sleeping the deep and dreamless sleep that hard work in the open air brings as one of its rewards. all is as quiet as though a mystic spell were laid on all the fleet. but when the sky to the eastward begins to turn gray, signs of life reappear. here and there in the fleet a sail will be seen climbing jerkily to the masthead, and hoarse voices sound across the waters. it is only a minute or two after the first evidence of activity before the whole fleet is tensely active. blocks and cordage are creaking, captains and mates shouting. where there was a forest of bare poles are soon hundreds of jibs and mainsails, rosy in the first rays of the rising sun. the schooners that have been drifting idly, are, as by magic, under weigh, cutting across each other's bows, slipping out of menacing entanglements, avoiding collisions by a series of nautical miracles. from a thousand galleys rise a thousand slender wreaths of smoke, and the odors of coffee and of the bean dear to new england fishermen, mingle with the saline zephyrs of the sea. the fleet is awake. they who have sailed with the fleet say that one of the marvels of the fisherman's mind is the unerring skill with which he will identify vessels in the distant fleet, to the landsman all are alike--a group of somewhat dingy schooners, not over trig, and apt to be in need of paint. but the trained fisherman, pursing his eyes against the sun's glitter on the waves, points them out one by one, with names, port-of-hail, name of captain, and bits of gossip about the craft. as the mountaineer identifies the most distant peak, or the plainsman picks his way by the trail indistinguishable to the untrained eye, so the fisherman, raised from boyhood among the vessels that make up the fleet, finds in each characteristics so striking, so individual, as to identify the vessel displaying them as far as a keen eye can reach. [illustration: "the boys marked their fish by cutting off their tails"] the fishing schooners, like the whalers, were managed upon principles of profit-sharing. the methods of dividing the proceeds of the catch differed, but in no sense did the wage system exist, except for one man on board--the cook, who was paid from $40 to $60 a month, besides being allowed to fish in return for caring for the vessel when all the men were out in dories. sometimes the gross catch of the boat was divided into two parts, the owners who outfitted the boat, supplying all provisions, equipment, and salt, taking one part, the other being divided among the fishermen in proportion to the catch of each. every fish caught was carefully tallied, the customary method being to cut the tongues, which at the lose of the day's work were counted by the captain, and each man's catch credited. the boys, of whom each schooner carried one or two, marked their fish by cutting off the tails, wherefore these hardy urchins, who generally took the sea at the age of ten, were called "cut-tails." the captain, for his more responsible part in the management of the boat, was not always expected to keep tally of his fish, but was allowed an average catch, plus from three to five per cent. of the gross value of the cargo. not infrequently the captain was owner of the boat, and his crew, thrifty neighbors of his, owning their own houses by the waterside, and able to outfit the craft and provide for the sustenance of their wives and children at home without calling upon the capitalist for aid. in such a case, the whole value of the catch was divided among the men who made it. at best, these shares were not of a sort to open the doors of a financial paradise to the men. the fisheries have always afforded impressive illustrations of the iron rule of the business world that the more arduous and more dangerous an occupation is, the less it pays. it was for the merest pittance that the fishermen risked their lives, and those who had families at home drawing their weekly provender from the outfitter were lucky if, at the end of the cruise they found themselves with the bill at the store paid, and a few dollars over for necessaries during the winter. in 1799, when the spokesmen of the fishery interests appeared before congress to plead for aid, they brought papers from the town of marblehead showing that the average earnings of the fishing vessels hailing from that port were, in 1787, $483; in 1788, $456; and in 1789, $273. the expenses of each vessel averaged $275. in the best of the three years, then, there was a scant $200 to be divided among the captain, the crew, and the owner. this was, of course, one of the leanest of the lean years that the fishermen encountered; but with all the encouragement in the way of bounties and protected markets that congress could give them, they never were able to earn in a life, as much as a successful promoter of trusts nowadays will make in half an hour. the census figures of 1890--the latest complete figures on occupations and earnings--give the total value of american fisheries as $44,500,000; the number of men employed in them, 132,000, and the average earnings $337 a man. the new england fisheries alone were then valued at $14,270,000. in the gross total of the value of american fisheries are included many methods foreign to the subject of this book, as for example, the system of fishing from shore with pound nets, the salmon fisheries of the columbia river, and the fisheries of the great lakes. mackerel are taken both with the hook and in nets--taken in such prodigious numbers that the dories which go out to draw the seine are loaded until their gunwales are almost flush with the sea, and each haul seems indeed a miraculous draught of fishes. it is the safest and pleasantest form of fishing known to the new englander, for its season is in summer only; the most frequented banks are out of the foggy latitude, and the habit of the fish of going about in monster schools keeps the fishing fleet together, conducing thus to safety and sociability both. in one respect, too, it is the most picturesque form of fishing. the mackerel is not unlike his enemy, man, in his curiosity concerning the significance of a bright light in the dark. shrewd shopkeepers, who are after gudgeons of the human sort, have worked on this failing of the human family so that by night some of our city streets blaze with every variety of electric fire. the mackerel fisherman gets after his prey in much the same fashion. when at night the lookout catches sight of the phosphorescent gleams in the water that tells of the restless activity beneath of a great school of fish the schooner is headed straightway for the spot. perhaps forty or fifty other schooners will be turning their prows the same way, their red and green lights glimmering through the black night on either side, the white waves under the bows showing faintly, and the creaking of the cordage sounding over the waters. it is a race for first chance at the school, and a race conducted with all the dash and desperation of a steeple-chase. the skipper of each craft is at his own helm, roaring out orders, and eagerly watchful of the lights of his encroaching neighbors. with the schooner heeled over to leeward, and rushing along through the blackness, the boats are launched, and the men tumble over the side into them, until perhaps the cook, the boy, and the skipper are alone on deck. one big boat, propelled by ten stout oarsmen, carries the seine, and with one dory is towed astern the schooner until the school is overhauled, then casts off and leaps through the water under the vigorous tugs of its oarsmen. in the stern a man stands throwing over the seine by armsful. it is the plan of campaign for the long boat and the dory, each carrying one end of the net, to make a circuit of the school, and envelope as much of it as possible in the folds of the seine. perhaps at one time boats from twenty or thirty schooners will be undertaking the same task, their torches blazing, their helmsmen shouting, the oars tossing phosphorescent spray into the air. in and out among the boats the schooners pick their way--a delicate task, for each skipper wishes to keep as near as possible to his men, yet must run over neither boats or nets belonging to his rival. wonderfully expert helmsmen they become after years of this sort of work--more trying to the nerves and exacting quite as much skill as the "jockeying" for place at the start of an international yacht race. when the slow task of drawing together the ends of the seine until the fish are fairly enclosed in a sort of marine canal, a signal brings the schooner down to the side of the boats. the mackerel are fairly trapped, but the glare of the torches blinds them to their situation, and they would scarcely escape if they could. one side of the net is taken up on the schooner's deck, and there clamped firmly, the fish thus lying in the bunt, or pocket between the schooners, and the two boats which lie off eight or ten feet, rising and falling with the sea. there, huddled together in the shallow water, growing ever shallower as the net is raised, the shining fish, hundreds and thousands of them, bushels, barrels, hogsheads of them, flash and flap, as the men prepare to swing them aboard in the dip net. this great pocket of cord, fit to hold perhaps a bushel or more, is swung from the boom above, and lowered into the midst of the catch. two men in the boat seize its iron rim, and with a twist and shove scoop it full of mackerel. "yo-heave-oh" sing out the men at the halliards, and the net rises into the air, and swings over the deck of the schooner. two men perched on the rail seize the collar and, turning it inside out, drop the whole finny load upon the deck. "fine, fat, fi-i-ish!" cry out the crew in unison, and the net dips back again into the corral for another load. so, by the light of smoky torches, fastened to the rigging, the work goes on, the men singing and shouting, the tackle creaking, the waves splashing, the wind singing in the shrouds, the boat's bow bumping dully on the waves as she falls. to all these sounds of the sea comes soon to be added one that is peculiar to the banks, a sound rising from the deck of the vessel, a multitude of little taps, rhythmical, muffled, soft as though a corps of clog-dancers were dancing a lively jig in rubber-soled shoes. it is the dance of death of the hapless mackerel. all about the deck they flap and beat their little lives away. scales fly in every direction, and the rigging, almost to the masthead, is plastered with them. when the deck is nearly full--and sometimes a single haul of the seine will more than fill it twice--the labor of dipping is interrupted and all hands turn to with a will to dress and pack the fish. not pretty work, this, and as little pleasing to perform. barrels, boards, and sharp knives are in requisition. torches are set up about the deck. the men divide up into gangs of four each and group themselves about the "keelers," or square, shallow boxes into which the fish to be dressed are bailed from the deck. two men in each gang are "splitters"; two "gibbers." the first, with a dextrous slash of a sharp knife splits the fish down the back, and throws it to the "gibber," who, with a twist of his thumb--armed with a mitt--extracts the entrails and throws the fish into a barrel of brine. by long practise the men become exceedingly expert in the work, and rivalry among the gangs keeps the pace of all up to the highest possible point. all through the night they work until the deck is cleaned of fish, and slimy with blood and scales. the men, themselves, are ghastly, besmeared as they are from top to toe with the gore of the mackerel. from time to time, full barrels are rolled away, and lowered into the hold, and fresh fish raised from the slowly emptying seine alongside. until the last fish has been sliced, cleaned, plunged into brine, and packed away there can be little respite from the muscle grinding work. from time to time, the pail of tepid water is passed about; once at least during the night, the cook goes from gang to gang with steaming coffee, and now and then some man whose wrist is wearied beyond endurance, knocks off, and with contortions of pain, rubs his arm from wrist to elbow. but save for these momentary interruptions, there is little break in the work. meanwhile the boat is plunging along through the water, the helm lashed or in beckets, and the skipper hard at work with a knife or gibbing mitt. a score of other boats in a radius of half a mile or so, will be in like case, so there is always danger of collision. many narrow escapes and not a few accidents have resulted from the practice of cleaning up while under sail. [illustration: fishing from the rail] the mackerel, however, is not caught solely in nets, but readily takes that oldest of man's predatory instruments, the hook. to attract them to the side of the vessel, a mixture of clams and little fish called "porgies," ground together in a mill, is thrown into the sea, which, sinking to the depths at which the fish commonly lie, attract them to the surface and among the enticing hooks. every fisherman handles two lines, and when the fishing is good he is kept busy hauling in and striking off the fish until his arms ache, and the tough skin on his hands is nearly chafed through. sometimes the hooks are baited with bits of clam or porgy, though usually the mackerel, when biting at all, will snap with avidity at a naked hook, if tinned so as to shine in the water. mr. nordhoff, whose reminiscences of life on a fishing boat i have already quoted, describes this method of fishing and its results graphically: "at midnight, when i am called up out of my warm bed to stand an hour's watch, i find the vessel pitching uneasily, and hear the breeze blowing fretfully through the naked rigging. going on deck, i perceive that both wind and sea have 'got up' since we retired to rest. the sky looks lowering, and the clouds are evidently surcharged with rain. in fine the weather, as my predecessor on watch informs me, bears every sign of an excellent fishday on the morrow. i accordingly grind some bait, sharpen up my hooks once more, see my lines clear, and my heaviest jigs (the technical term for hooks with pewter on them) on the rail ready for use, and at one o'clock return to my comfortable bunk. i am soon again asleep, and dreaming of hearing fire-bells ringing, and seeing men rush to the fire, and just as i see 'the machine' round the corner of the street, am startled out of my propriety, my dream, sleep, and all by the loud cry of 'fish!' "i start up desperately in my narrow bunk, bringing my cranium in violent contact with a beam overhead, which has the effect of knocking me flat down in my berth again. after recovering as much consciousness as is necessary to appreciate my position, i roll out of bed, jerk savagely at my boots, and snatching up my cap and pea-jacket, make a rush _at_ the companion-way, _up_ which i manage to fall in my haste, and then spring into the hold for a strike-barrel. "and now the mainsail is up, the jib down, and the captain is throwing bait. it is not yet quite light, but we hear other mainsails going up all round us. a cool drizzle makes the morning unmistakably uncomfortable, and we stand around half asleep, with our sore hands in our pockets, wishing we were at home. the skipper, however, is holding his lines over the rail with an air which clearly intimates that the slightest kind of a nibble will be quite sufficient this morning to seal the doom of a mackerel. "'there, by jove!' the captain hauls back--'there, i told you so! skipper's got him--no--aha, captain, you haul back too savagely!' "with the first movement of the captain's arm, indicating the presence of fish, everybody rushes madly to the rail. jigs are heard on all sides plashing into the water, and eager hands and arms are stretched at their full length over the side, feeling anxiously for a nibble. "'sh--hish--there's something just passed my fly--i felt him,' says an old man standing alongside of me. "'yes, and i've got him,' triumphantly shouts out the next man on the other side of him, hauling in as he speaks, a fine mackerel, and striking him off into his barrel in the most approved style. "z-z-zip goes my line through and deep into my poor fingers, as a huge mackerel rushes savagely away with what he finds not so great a prize as he thought it was. i get confoundedly flurried, miss stroke half a dozen times in hauling in as many fathoms of line, and at length succeed in landing my first fish safely in my barrel, where he flounders away 'most melodiously,' as my neighbor says. "and now it is fairly daylight, and the rain, which has been threatening all night, begins to pour down in right earnest. as the heavy drops patter on the sea the fish begin to bite fast and furiously. "'shorten up,' says the skipper, and we shorten in our lines to about eight feet from the rail to the hooks, when we can jerk them in just as fast as we can move our hands and arms. 'keep your lines clear,' is now the word, as the doomed fish slip faster and faster into the barrels standing to receive them. here is one greedy fellow already casting furtive glances behind him, and calculating in his mind how many fish he will have to lose in the operation of getting his second strike-barrel. "now you hear no sound except the steady flip of fish into the barrels. every face wears an expression of anxious determination; everybody moves as though by springs; every heart beats loud with excitement, and every hand hauls in fish and throws out hooks with a methodical precision, a kind of slow haste, which unites the greatest speed with the utmost security against fouling lines. "and now the rain increases. we hear jibs rattling down; and glancing up hastily, i am surprised to find our vessel surrounded on all sides by the fleet, which has already become aware that we have got fish alongside. meantime the wind rises, and the sea struggles against the rain, which is endeavoring with its steady patter to subdue the turmoil of old ocean. we are already on our third barrel each, and still the fish come in as fast as ever, and the business (sport it has ceased to be some time since), continues with vigor undiminished. thick beads of perspiration chase each other down our faces. jackets, caps, and even over-shirts, are thrown off, to give more freedom to the limbs that are worked to their utmost. "'hillo! where are the fish?' all gone. every line is felt eagerly for a bite, but not the faintest nibble is perceptible. the mackerel, which but a moment ago were fairly rushing on board, have in that moment disappeared so completely that not a sign of one is left. the vessel next under our lee holds them a little longer than we, but they finally also disappear from her side. and so on all around us. "and now we have time to look about us--to compare notes on each other's successes--to straighten our backbones, nearly broken and aching horribly with the constant reaching over; to examine our fingers, cut to pieces and grown sensationless with the perpetual dragging of small lines across them--to--'there, the skipper's got a bite! here they are again, boys, and big fellows, too!' everybody rushes once more to the rail, and business commences again, but not at so fast a rate as before. by-and-by there is another cessation, and we hoist our jib and run off a little way, into a new berth. "while running across, i take the first good look at the state of affairs in general. we lie, as before said, nearly in the center of the whole fleet, which from originally covering an area of perhaps fifteen miles each way, has 'knotted up' into a little space, not above two miles square. in many places, although the sea is tolerably rough, the vessels lie so closely together that one could almost jump from one to the other. the greatest skill and care are necessary on such occasions to keep them apart, and prevent the inevitable consequences of a collision, a general smash-up of masts, booms, bulwarks, etc. yet a great fish-day like this rarely passes off without some vessel sustaining serious damage. we thread our way among the vessels with as much care and as daintily as a man would walk over ground covered with eggs; and finally get into a berth under the lee of a vessel which seems to hold the fish pretty well. here we fish away by spells, for they have become 'spirty,' that is, they are capricious, and appear and disappear suddenly." [illustration: trawling from a dory] three causes make the occupation of those fishermen who go for cod and halibut to the newfoundland banks extra hazardous--the almost continual fog, the swift steel atlantic liners always plowing their way at high speed across the fishing grounds, heedless of fog or darkness, and the custom of fishing with trawls which must be tended from dories. the trawl, which is really only an extension of hand-lines, is a french device adopted by american fishermen early in the last century. one long hand-line, supported by floats, is set at some distance from the schooner. from it depend a number of short lines with baited hooks, set at brief intervals. the fisherman, in his dory, goes from one to the other of these lines pulling them in, throwing the fish in the bottom of the boat and rebaiting his hooks. when his dory is full he returns with his load to the schooner--if he can find her. that is the peril ever present to the minds of the men in the dory--the danger of losing the schooner. on the banks the sea is always running moderately high, and the great surges, even on the clearest days, will often shut out the dories from the vision of the lookout. the winds and the currents tend to sweep the little fishing-boats away, and though a schooner with five or six dories out hovers about them like a hen guarding her chickens, sailing a triangular beat planned to include all the smaller boats, yet it too often happens that night falls with one boat missing. then on the schooner all is watchfulness. cruising slowly about, burning flares and blowing the hoarse fog-horn, those on board search for the missing ones until day dawns or the lost are found. sometimes day comes in a fog, a dense, dripping, gray curtain, more impenetrable than the blackest night, for through it no flare will shine, and even the sound of the braying horn or tolling bell is so curiously distorted, that it is difficult to tell from what quarter it comes. no one who has not seen a fog on the banks can quite imagine its dense opaqueness. when it settles down on a large fleet of fishermen, with hundreds of dories out, the peril and perplexity of the skippers are extreme. in one instant after the dull gray curtain falls over the ocean, each vessel is apparently as isolated as though alone on the banks. a dory forty feet away is invisible. the great fleet of busy schooners, tacking back and forth, watching their boats, is suddenly, obliterated. hoarse cries, the tooting of horns and the clanging of bells, sound through the misty air, and now and then a ghostly schooner glides by, perhaps scraping the very gunwale and carrying away bits of rail and rigging to the accompaniment of new england profanity. this is the dangerous moment for every one on the banks, for right through the center of the fishing ground lies the pathway of the great steel ocean steamships plying between england and the united states. colossal engines force these great masses of steel through sea and fog. each captain is eager to break a record; each one knows that a reputation for fast trips will make his ship popular and increase his usefulness to the company. in theory he is supposed to slow down in crossing the banks; in fact his great 12,000-ton ship rushes through at eighteen miles an hour. if she hits a dory and sends two men to their long rest, no one aboard the ocean leviathan will ever know it. if she strikes a schooner and shears through her like a knife through cheese, there will be a slight vibration of the steel fabric, but not enough to alarm the passengers; the lookout will have caught a hasty glimpse of a ghostly craft, and heard plaintive cries for help, then the fog shuts down on all, like the curtain on the last act of a tragedy. even if the great steamship were stopped at once, her momentum would carry her a mile beyond the spot before a boat could be lowered, and then it would be almost impossible to find the floating wreckage in the fog. so, usually, the steamships press on with unchecked speed, their officers perhaps breathing a sigh of pity for the victims, but reflecting that it is a sailor's peril to which those on the biggest and staunchest of ships are exposed almost equally with the fishermen. for was it not on the banks and in a fog that the blow was struck which sent "la bourgogne" to the bottom with more than four hundred souls? [illustration: strikes a schooner and shears through her like a knife] ordinarily there is but short shrift for the helpless folks on a fishing vessel when struck by a liner. the keen prow cuts right through planking and stout oak frame, and the dissevered portions of the hull are tossed to starboard and to port, to sink before the white foam has faded from the wake of the destroying monster. they tell ghoulish tales of bodies sliced in twain as neatly as the boat itself; of men asleep in their bunks being decapitated, or waking, to find themselves struggling in the water with an arm or leg shorn off. and again, there are stories of escapes that were almost miraculous; of men thrown by the shock of collision out of the foretop of the schooner onto the deck of the steamship, and carried abroad in safety, while their partners mourned them as dead; of men, dozing in their bunks, startled suddenly by the grinding crash of steel and timbers, and left gazing wide-eyed at the gray sea lapping the side of their berths, where an instant before the tough oak skin of the schooner had been; of men stunned by some flying bit of wood, who, all unconscious, floated on the top of the hungry waves, until as by divine direction, their inert bodies touched the side of a vagrant dory and were dragged aboard to life again. the banks can perform their miracles of humanity as well as of cruelty. few forms of manual work are more exacting, involve more physical suffering and actual peril to life, than fishing with trawls. under the happiest circumstances, with the sky clear, the sea moderately calm, and the air warm, it is arduous, muscle-trying, nerve-racking work. pulling up half a mile of line, with hooks catching on the bottom, big fish floundering and fighting for freedom, and the dory dancing on the waves like mad, is no easy task. the line cuts the fingers, and the long, hard pull wearies the wrists until they ache, as though with inflammatory rheumatism. but when all this had to be done in a wet, chilling fog, or in a nipping winter's wind that freezes the spray in beard and hair, while the frost bites the fingers that the line lacerates, then the fisherman's lot is a bitter one. the method of setting and hauling the trawls has been well described by mr. john z. rogers, in "outing," and some extracts from his story will be of interest to readers: "the trawls were of cod-line, and tied to them at distances of six feet were smaller lines three feet in length, with a hook attached to the end. each dory had six trawls, each one eighteen hundred feet long. the trawls were neatly coiled in tubs made by sawing flour barrels in two, and as fast as they were baited with pieces of herring they were carefully coiled into another tub, that they might run out quickly without snarling when being set. "the last trawl was finished just before supper, at five o'clock. after supper the men enjoyed a half-hour smoke, then preparations were made to set the gear, as the trawls are called. the schooner got well to windward of the place where the set was to be made, and the first dory was lowered by a block and tackle. one of the men jumped into it, and his partner handed him the tubs of gear and then jumped in himself. the dory was made fast to the schooner by her painter as she drifted astern, and the other dories were put over in the same manner. when all the dories were disposed of the first one was cast off. one of the men rowed the boat before the wind while the other ran out the gear. first, he threw over a keg for a buoy, which could be seen from some distance. fastened to the buoy-line at some sixty fathoms, or three hundred and sixty feet from the keg, was the trawl with a small anchor attached to sink it to the bottom. when this was dropped overboard the trawl was rapidly run out, and as fast as the end of one was reached it was tied to the next one, thus making a line of trawl ten thousand eight hundred feet long, with eighteen hundred hooks attached. after the schooner had sailed on a straight course a few hundred yards, the captain cast off the second dory, then along a little farther the third one, and so on till the five boats were all setting gear in parallel lines to each other. when all set this gear practically represented a fishing line over _ten miles_ long with nine _thousand hooks_ tied to it." the trawls thus set were left out over night, the schooner picking up the dories and anchoring near the buoy of the first trawl. at daybreak the work of hauling in was begun: "all the dories were made fast astern and left at the head of their respective trawls as the schooner sailed along. one of the men in each dory, after pulling up the anchor, put the trawl in the roller--a grooved wooden wheel eight inches in diameter. this was fastened to one side of the dory. the trawl was hauled in hand over hand, the heavy strain necessarily working the dory slowly along. the fish were taken off as fast as they appeared. a gaff--a stick about the size and length of a broom handle with a large, sharp hook attached--lay near at hand, and was frequently used in landing a fish over the side. occasionally a fish would free itself from the trawl hook as it reached the surface, but the fisherman, with remarkable dexterity, would grab the gaff, and hook the victim before it could swim out of reach. what would be on the next hook was always an interesting uncertainty, for it seemed that all kinds of fish were represented. cod and haddock were, of course, numerous, but hake and pollock struggled on many a hook. besides these, there was the brim, a small, red fish, which is excellent fried; the cat fish, also a good pan fish; the cusk, which is best baked; the whiting, the eel, the repulsive-looking skate, the monk, of which it can almost be said that his mouth is bigger than himself, and last, but not least, that ubiquitous fish, the curse of amateur harbor fishers, the much-abused sculpin. nor were fish alone caught on the hooks, for stones were frequently pulled up, and one dory brought in a lobster, which had been hooked by his tail. some of the captives showed where large chunks had been bitten out of them by larger fish, and sometimes, when a hook appeared above water, there would be nothing on it but a fish head. this was certainly a case of one fish taking a mean advantage of another." such is the routine of trawling when weather and all the fates are propitious. but the banks have other stories to tell--stories of men lost in the fog, drifting for long days and nights until the little keg of fresh water and the scanty store of biscuit are exhausted, and then slowly dying of starvation, alone on the trackless sea; of boats picked up in winter with frozen bodies curled together on the floor, huddled close in a vain endeavor to keep warm; of trawlers looking up from their work to see towering high above them the keen prow of an ocean grayhound, and thereafter seeing nothing that their dumb lips could tell to mortal ears. many a story of suffering and death the men skilled in the lore of the banks could tell, but most eloquent of all stories are those told by the figures of the men lost from the fishing ports of new england. from gloucester alone, in 1879, two hundred and fifty fishermen were lost. in one storm in 1846 marblehead lost twelve vessels and sixty-six men and boys. in 1894, and the first month of 1895, one hundred and twenty-two men sailing out of gloucester, were drowned. in fifty years this little town gave to the hungry sea two thousand two hundred men, and vessels valued at nearly two million, dollars. full of significance is the fact that every fishing-boat sets aside part of the proceeds of its catch for the widows' and orphans' fund before making the final division among the men. one of the many new england poets who have felt and voiced the pathos of life in the fishing villages, mr. frank h. sweet, has told the story of the old and oft-repeated tragedy of the sea in these verses: "the wives of the fishers "the boats of the fishers met the wind and spread their canvas wide, and with bows low set and taffrails wet skim onward side by side; the wives of the fishers watch from shore, and though the sky be blue, they breathe a prayer into the air as the boats go from view. "the wives of the fishers wait on shore with faces full of fright, and the waves roll in with deafening din through the tempestuous night; the boats of the fishers meet the wind cast up by a scornful sea; but the fishermen come not again, though the wives watch ceaselessly." **transcriber's notes: page 317: changed cherry to cheery. page 329: page ends "cry of 'fish"; next page begins with a new paragraph, punctuation added to read 'fish!' page 330: changed volent to violent changed trumphantly to triumphantly chapter x the sailor's safeguards--improvements in marine architecture--the mapping of the seas--the lighthouse system--building a lighthouse--minot's ledge and spectacle reef--life in a lighthouse--lightships and other beacons--the revenue marine service--its function as a safeguard to sailors--its work in the north pacific--the life-saving service--its record for one year--its origin and development--the pilots of new york--their hardships and slender earnings--jack ashore--the sailors' snug harbor. into the long struggle between men and the ocean the last half century has witnessed the entrance of system, science and cooperation on the side of man. they are three elements of strength which ordinarily assure victory to the combatant who enlists them, but complete victory over the ocean is a thing never to be fully won. build his ships as he may, man them as he will, map out the ocean highways never so precisely, and mark as he may with flaring beacons each danger point, yet in some moment of wrath the winds and the waves will rise unconquerable and sweep all the barriers, and all the edifices erected by man out of their path. to-day all civilized governments join in devices and expedients for the protection and safeguard of the mariner. steel vessels are made unsinkable with water-tight compartments, and officially marked with a plimsoll load line beneath which they must not be submerged. charts of every ocean are prepared under governmental supervision by trained scientists. myriads of lights twinkle from headland to reef all round the world. pilots are taught to find the way into the narrowest harbors, though they can scarce see beyond the ship's jibboom, and electric-lighted buoys mark the channel, while foghorns and sirens shriek their warnings through flying scud and mist. revenue cutters ply up and down the coast specially charged to go swiftly to the rescue of vessels in distress, and life-saving stations dot the beaches, fitted with every device for cheating the breakers of their prey. the skill of marine architects, and all the resources of government are taxed to the utmost to defeat the wrath of ocean, yet withal his toll of life and property is a heavy one. now and again men discuss the nature of courage, and try to fix upon the bravest deed of history. doubtless _the_ bravest deed has no place in history, for it must have been the act of some unknown man committed with none to observe and recount the deed. gallantry under the stimulus of onlookers ready to cheer on the adventurer and to make history out of his exploit, is not the supremest type. surely first among the brave, though unknown men, we must rank that navigator, who, ignorant of the compass and even of the art of steering by the stars, pressed his shallop out beyond sight of land, into the trackless sea after the fall of night. such a one braved, beside the ordinary dangers of the deep, the uncouth and mythical terrors with which world-wide ignorance and superstition had invested it. the sea was thought to be the domain of fierce and ravenous monsters, and of gods quite as dangerous to men. prodigious whirlpools, rapids, and cataracts, quite without any physical reason for existence, were thought to roar and roll just beyond the horizon. it is only within a few decades that the geographies have abandoned the pleasing fiction of the maelstrom, and a few centuries ago the sudden downpour of the waters at the "end of the world" was a thoroughly accepted tenet of physical geography. yet men, adventurous and inquisitive, kept ever pushing forward into the unknown, until now there remain no strange seas and few uncharted and unlighted. the mariner of these days has literally plain sailing in comparison with his forbears of one hundred and fifty years ago. easily first among the sailor's safeguards is the lighthouse system. that of the united states is under the direct control of the light house board, which in turn is subject to the authority of the secretary of the treasury. it is the practice of every nation to light its own coast; though foreign vessels enjoy equal advantages thereby with the ships of the home country. but the united states goes farther. not only does it furnish the beacons to guide foreign ships to its ports; but, unlike great britain and some other nations, it levies no charge upon the beneficiaries. in order that american vessels might not be hampered by the light dues imposed by foreign nations, the united states years ago bought freedom from several states for a lump sum; but great britain still exacts dues, a penny a ton, from every vessel passing a british light and entering a british port. the history of the lighthouses of the world is a long one, beginning with the story of the famous pharos, at alexandria, 400 feet high, whose light, according to ptolemy, could be seen for 40 miles. pharos long since disappeared, overthrown, it is thought, by an earthquake. france possesses to-day the oldest and the most impressive lighthouse--the corduan tower, at the mouth of the gironde, begun in the fifteenth century. in the united states, the lighthouse system dates only from 1715, when the first edifice of this character was begun at the entrance to boston harbor. it was only an iron basket perched on a beacon, in which were burned "fier bales of pitch and ocum," as the colonial records express it sometimes tallow candles illuminated this pioneer light of the establishment of which announcement was made in the boston _news_, of september 17, 1716, in this wise: "boston. by vertue of an act of assembly made in the first year of his majesty's reign, for building & maintaining a light house upon the great brewster (called beacon island) at the entrance of the harbor of boston, in order to prevent the loss of the lives & estates of his majesty's subjects; the said light house has been built; and on fryday last the 14th currant the light was kindled; which will be very useful for all vessels going out and coming in to the harbor of boston for which all masters shall pay to the receiver of impost, one peny per ton inwards, and another peny outwards, except coasters, who are to pay two shillings each at their clearance out. and all fishing vessels, wood sloops, &c. five shillings each by the year." when the united states government was formed, with the adoption of the constitution in 1789, there were just eight lights on the coast, namely, portsmouth light, n.h.; the boston light, mentioned above; guerney light, near plymouth, mass.; brand point light, on nantucket; beaver tail light, r.i.; sandy hook light; cape henlopen light, del.; and charleston main light, on morris island, s.c. the pacific coast, of course, was dark. so, too, was the gulf of mexico, though already a considerable shipping was finding its way thither. of the multitudes of lights that gleam and sparkle in long island sound or on the banks of the navigable rivers that open pathways into the interior, not one was then established. but as soon as a national government took the duty in hand, the task of lighting the mariner's pathway was pressed with vigor. by 1820 the eight lights had increased to fifty-five. to-day there are 1306 lighthouses and lighted beacons, and forty-five lightships. as for buoys, foghorns, day beacons, etc., they are almost uncounted. the board which directs this service was organized in 1852. it consists of two officers of high rank in the navy, two engineer officers of the army, and two civilians of high scientific attainments. one officer of the army and one of the navy are detailed as secretaries. the secretary of the treasury is _ex officio_ president of the board. each of the sixteen districts into which the country is divided is inspected by an army and a navy officer, and a small navy of lighthouse tenders perform the duty of carrying supplies and relief to the lighthouses up and down our three coasts. [illustration: minot's ledge light] the planning of a lighthouse to stand on a submerged reef, in a stormy sea, is an engineering problem which requires extraordinary qualities of technical skill and scientific daring for its solution, while to raise the edifice, to seize the infrequent moments of low calm water for thrusting in the steel anchors and laying the heavy granite substructure on which shall rise the slender stone column that shall defy the assaults of wind and wave, demands coolness, determination, and reckless courage. many lights have been built at such points on our coast, but the ponderous tower of minot's ledge, at the entrance to boston harbor, may well be taken as a type. minot's ledge is three miles off the mouth of boston bay, a jagged reef of granite, wholly submerged at high tide, and showing a scant hundred yards of rock above the water at the tide's lowest stage. it lies directly in the pathway of ships bound into boston, and over it, on even calm days, the breakers crash in an incessant chorus. two lighthouses have reared their heads here to warn away the mariner. the first was completed in 1848, an octagonal tower, set on wrought-iron piles extending five feet into the rock. the skeleton structure was expected to offer little surface to the shock of the waves, and the wrought iron of which it was built surely seemed tough enough to resist any combined force of wind and water; but in an april gale in 1851 all was washed away, and two brave keepers, who kept the lamp burning until the tower fell, went with it. late at night, the watchers on the shore at cohasset, three miles away, heard the tolling of the lighthouse bell, and through the flying scud caught occasional glimpses of the light; but morning showed nothing left of the structure except twisted stumps of iron piles, bent and gnarled, as though the waves which tore them to pieces had been harder than they. then, for a time, a lightship tossed and tugged at its cables to warn shipping away from minot's ledge. old bostonians may still remember the gallant newfoundland dog that lived on the ship, and, when excursion boats passed, would plunge into the sea and swim about, barking, until the excursionists would throw him tightly rolled newspapers, which he would gather in his jaws, and deliver to the lightship keepers to be dried for the day's reading. but, while the lightship served for a temporary beacon, a new tower was needed that might send the warning pencil of light far out to sea. minot's was too treacherous a reef and too near a populous ocean highway to be left without the best guardian that science could devise. accordingly, the present stone tower was planned and its construction begun in 1855. the problem before the designer was no easy one. the famous eddystone and skerryvore lighthouses, whose triumphs over the sea are related in english verse and story, were easier far to build, for there the foundation rock is above water at every low tide, while at minot's ledge the bedrock on which the base of the tower rests is below the level of low tide most of the year. the working season could only be from april 1 to september 15. nominally, that is almost six months; but in the first season the sea permitted exactly 130 hours' work; in the second season 157, and in the third season, 130 hours and 21 minutes. the rest of the time the roaring surf held minot's ledge for its own. nor was this all. after two years' work, the piles and débris of the old lighthouse had been cleared away, and a new iron framework, intended to be anchored in solid masonry, had been set, when up came a savage gale from the northeast; and when it cleared all was swept away. then the spirit of the builder wavered, and he began to doubt that any structure built by men could withstand the powers of nature at minot's ledge. but, in time, the truth appeared. a bark, the _new eagle_, heavy laden with cotton, had been swept right over the reef, and grounded at cohasset. examination showed that she had carried away in her hull the framework of the new tower. three years' heart-trying work were necessary before the first cut stone could be laid upon the rock. in the meantime, on a great table at cohasset, a precise model of the new tower was built, each stone cut to the exact shape, on a scale of one inch to the foot, and laid in mortar. this model completed, the soil on the hillside near by was scraped away. the granite rock thus laid bare was smoothed and leveled off into a great flat circle, and there, stone by stone, the tower was built exactly as in time it should rise in the midst of the seething cauldron of foam three miles out at sea. while the masons ashore worked at the tower, the men at the reef watched their chance, and the moment a square yard of ledge was out of water at the fall of the tide, they would leap from their boats, and begin cutting it. a circle thirty feet in diameter had to be leveled, and iron rods sunk into it as anchorages for the masonry. to do that took just three years of time, though actually less than twenty-five days of working time. from the time the first cut stone was laid until the completion of the tower, was three years and three months, though in all there were but 1102 working hours. one keeper and three assistants guard the light over minot's ledge. three miles away across the sea, now blue and smiling, now black and wrathful, they can see the little group of dwellings on the cohasset shore which the government provides for them, and which shelter their families. the term of duty on the rocks is two weeks; at the end of each fortnight two happy men go ashore and two grumpy ones come off; that is, if the weather permits a landing, for keepers have been stormbound for as long as seven weeks. the routine of duty is much the same in all of the lighthouses. by night there must be unceasing watch kept of the great revolving light; and, if there be other lights within reach of the keeper's glass, a watch must be kept on them as well, and any eclipse, however brief, must be noted in the lighthouse log. by day the lens must be rubbed laboriously with a dry cloth until it shines like the facets of a diamond. not at all like the lens we are familiar with in telescopes and cameras is this scientifically contrived device. it is built up of planes and prisms of the finest flint glass, cut and assembled according to abtruse mathematical calculations so as to gather the rays of light from the great sperm-oil lamp into parallel rays, a solid beam, which, in the case of minot's ledge light, pierces the night to a distance of fifteen miles. on foggy days, too, the keepers must toll the fog-bell, or, if the light be on the mainland, operate the steam siren which sends its hoarse bellow booming through the gray mist to the alert ears of the sailor miles away. the regulations do not prescribe that the keeper of a light shall hold himself ready to go to the assistance of castaways or of wrecked vessels; but, as a matter of fact, not a few of the most heroic rescues in the history of the coast have been performed by light-keepers. in the number of lives saved a woman--ida lewis, the keeper of the limerock light in newport harbor--leads all the rest. but there is hardly any light so placed that a boat can be launched that has not a story to tell of brave men putting out in frail boats in the teeth of a roaring gale to bring in some exhausted castaways, to carry a line to some stranded ship, or to guide some imperiled pleasure-seekers to safety. while the building of the minot's ledge light had in it more of the picturesque element than attaches to the record of construction of the other beacons along the coast of the united states, there are but few erected on exposed points about which the builders could not tell some curious stories of difficult problems surmounted, or dire perils met and conquered. the great lakes, on which there are more than 600 light stations, offer problems of their own to the engineer. because of the shallowness of their waters, a gale speedily kicks up a sea which old ocean itself can hardly outdo, and they have an added danger in that during the winter they are frozen to such a depth that navigation is entirely abandoned. the lights, too, are abandoned during this season, the lighthouse board fixing a period in the early winter for extinguishing them and another in spring for reilluminating them. but between these dates the structures stand exposed to the tremendous pressure of such shifting floes of ice as are not found on the ocean outside of the arctic regions. the lake lighthouse, the builders of which had most to apprehend from this sort of attack, is that at spectacle reef, in lake huron, near the straits of mackinaw. it is ten miles from land, standing on a limestone reef, and in the part of the lakes where the ice persists longest and moves out with the most resistless crush. to protect this lighthouse, it was necessary to build a rampart all about it, against which the ice floes in the spring, as the current moves them down into lake huron, are piled up in tumultuous disorder. in order to get a foundation for the lighthouse, a huge coffer-dam was built, which was launched like a ship, towed out to the reef and there grounded. when it was pumped out the men worked inside with the water surrounding them twelve to fourteen feet above their heads. twenty months of work, or three years in time, were occupied in erecting this light. once in the spring, when the keepers returned after the closed season to prepare for the summer's navigation, they found the ice piled thirty feet against the tower, and seventy feet above the doorway, so that they were compelled, in order to enter the lighthouse, to cut through a huge iceberg of which it was the core. the spectacle reef light, like that at minot's ledge, is a simple tower of massive masonry, and this is the approved design for lighthouses exposed to very heavy strain from waves or ice. a simpler structure, used in tranquil bays and in the less turbulent waters of the gulf, is the "screw-pile" lighthouse, built upon a skeleton framework of iron piling, the piles having been so designed that they bore into the bed of the ocean like augers on being turned. the "bug-light" in boston harbor, and the light at the entrance to hampton roads are familiar instances of this sort of construction. for all their apparent lightness of construction, they are stout and seaworthy, and in their erection the builders have often had to overcome obstacles and perils offered by the sea scarcely less savage than those overcome at minot's ledge. indeed, a lighthouse standing in its strength, perhaps rising out of a placid summer sea, or towering from a crest of rock which it seems incredible the sea should have ever swept, gives little hint to the casual observer of the struggle that brave and skilful men had to go through with before it could be erected. the light at tillamook rock, near the mouth of the columbia river, offers a striking illustration of this. it is no slender shaft rising from a tumultuous sea, but a spacious dwelling from which springs a square tower supporting the light, the whole perched on the crest of a small rock rising precipitously from the sea to the height of some forty feet. yet, sturdy and secure as the lighthouse now looks, its erection was one of the hardest tasks that the board ever undertook. so steep are the sides of tillamook rock that to land upon it, even in calm weather, is perilous, and the foreman of the first party that went to prepare the ground for the light was drowned in the attempt. only after repeated efforts were nine men successfully landed with tools and provisions. though only one mile from shore they made provision for a prolonged stay, built a heavy timber hut, bolting it to the rock, and began blasting away the crest of the island to prepare foundations for the new lighthouse. high as they were above the water, the sea swept over the rock in a torrent when the storms raged. in one tempest the hut was swept away and the men were barely able to cling to the rock until the waves moderated. that same night an english bark went to pieces under the rock, so near that the workmen above, clinging for dear life to their precarious perch, could hear the shouts of her officers giving their commands. a bonfire was kindled, in hope of warning the doomed sailors of their peril, but it was too late, for the ship could not be extricated from her position, and became a total wreck, with the loss of the lives of twenty of her company. to-day a clear beam of light shines out to sea, eighteen miles from the top of tillamook, and only the criminally careless captain can come near enough to be in any danger whatsoever. such is one bit of progress made in safeguarding the sea. more wearing even than life in a lighthouse is that aboard the lightships, of which the united states government now has forty-five in commission. the lightship is regarded by the government as merely a makeshift, though some of them have been in use for more than a quarter of a century. they are used to mark shoals and reefs where it has thus far been impossible to construct a lighthouse, or obstructions to navigation which may be but temporary. while costing less than lighthouses, they are not in favor with the lighthouse board, because the very conditions which make a light most necessary, are likely to cause these vessels to break from their moorings and drift away, leaving their post unguarded. their keepers suffer all the discomforts of a sailor's life and most of its dangers, while enjoying none of its novelty and freedom. the ships are usually anchored in shoal water, where the sea is sure to run high, and the tossing and rolling of the craft makes life upon it insupportable. they are always farther out to sea than the lighthouses, and the opportunities for the keepers to get ashore to their families are correspondingly fewer. in heavy storms their decks are awash, and their cabins dripping; the lights, which must be watched, instead of being at the top of a firm, dry tower, are perched on reeling masts over which the spray flies thick with every wave, and on which is no shelter for the watcher. during long weeks in the stormy season there is no possible way of escaping from the ship, or of bringing supplies or letters aboard, and the keepers are as thoroughly shut off from their kind as though on a desert island, although all day they may see the great ocean liners steaming by, and through their glasses may be able to pick out the roofs of their cottages against the green fields far across the waves. [illustration: whistling buoy] less picturesque than lighthouses and lightships, and with far less of human interest about them, are the buoys of various sorts of which the lighthouse board has more than one thousand in place, and under constant supervision. yet, among the sailor's safeguards, they rank near the head. they point out for him the tortuous pathway into different harbors; with clanging bell or dismal whistle, they warn him away from menacing shallows and sunken wrecks. the resources of science and inventive genius have been drawn upon to devise ways for making them more effective. at night they shine with electric lights fed from a submarine cable, or with steady gas drawn from a reservoir that needs refilling only three or four times a year. if sound is to be trusted rather than light, recourse is had to a bell-buoy which tolls mournfully as the waves toss it about above the danger spot, or to a whistling buoy which toots unceasingly a locomotive whistle, with air compressed by the action of the waves. the whistling buoy is the giant of his family, for the necessity for providing a heavy charge of compressed air compels the attachment to the buoy of a tube thirty-two feet or more deep, which reaches straight down into the water. the sea rising and falling in this, as the buoy tosses on the waves, acts as a sort of piston, driving out the air through the whistle, as the water rises, admitting more air as it falls. serving a purpose akin to the lighthouses, are the post and range-lights on the great rivers of the west. very humble devices, these, in many instances, but of prodigious importance to traffic on the interior waterways. a lens lantern, hanging from the arm of a post eight or ten feet high, and kept lighted by some neighboring farmer at a cost of $160 a year, lacks the romantic quality of a lighthouse towering above a hungry sea, but it is because there are nearly two thousand such lights on our shallow and crooked rivers that we have an interior shipping doing a carrying trade of millions a year, and giving employment to thousands of men. chief among the sailors' safeguards is the service performed by the united states revenue cutters. the revenue cutter service, like the lighthouse system, was established very shortly after the united states became a nation by the adoption of the constitution. its primary purpose, of course, is to aid in the enforcement of the revenue laws and to suppress smuggling. the service, therefore, is a branch of the treasury department, and is directly under the charge of the secretary of the treasury. in the course of years, however, the revenue cutter service has extended its functions. in time of war, the cutters have acted as adjuncts to the navy, and some of the very best armed service on the high seas has been performed by them. piracy in the gulf of mexico was largely suppressed by officers of revenue cutters, and pitched battles have more than once been fought between small revenue cutters and the pirates of the louisiana and the central american coasts. but the feature of the service which is of particular pertinence to our story of american ships and sailors, is the part that it has taken in aiding vessels that were wrecked, or in danger of being wrecked. many years ago, the secretary of the treasury directed the officers of the revenue marine to give all possible aid to vessels in distress wherever encountered. perhaps the order was hardly necessary. it is the chiefest glory of the sailor, whether in the official service, or in the merchant marine, that he has never permitted a stranger ship to go unaided to destruction, if by any heroic endeavor he could save either the ship or her crew. the annals of the sea are full of stories of captains who risked their own vessels, their own lives, and the lives of their people, in order to take castaways from wrecked or foundering vessels in a high sea. but the records of the revenue marine service are peculiarly fruitful of such incidents, because it was determined some thirty years ago that cutters should be kept cruising constantly throughout the turbulent winter seasons for the one sole purpose of rendering aid to vessels in distress. in these late years, when harbors are thoroughly policed, and when steam navigation has come to dominate the ocean, there is little use for the revenue cutter in its primary quality of a foe to smugglers. people who smuggle come over in the cabins of the finest ocean liners, and the old-time contraband importer, of the sort we read of in "cast up by the sea," who brings a little lugger into some obscure port under cover of a black night, has entirely disappeared. a duty which at times has come very near to true war service, has been the enforcement of the _modus vivendi_ agreed upon by great britain and the united states, as a temporary solution of the problem of the threatened extinction of the fur-bearing seals. this story of the seal "fishery," and the cruel and wholesale slaughter which for years attended it, is one of the most revolting chapters in the long history of civilized man's warfare on dumb animals. it is to be noted that it is only the civilized man who pursues animals to the point of extinction. the word "savage" has come to mean murderous, bloodthirsty, but the savages of north america hunted up and down the forests and plains for uncounted centuries, living wholly on animal food, finding at once their livelihood and their sport in the chase, dressing in furs and skins, and decking themselves with feathers, but never making such inroads upon wild animal life as to affect the herds and flocks. civilized man came with his rifles and shot-guns, his eagerness to kill for the sake of killing, his cupidity, which led him to ignore breeding-seasons, and seek the immediate profit which might accrue from a big kill, even though thereby that particular form of animal life should be rendered extinct. in less than forty years after his coming to the great western plains, the huge herds of buffalo had disappeared. the prairie chicken and the grouse became scarce, and fled to the more remote regions. of lesser animal life, the woods and fields in our well-settled states are practically stripped bare. a few years ago, it became apparent that for the seals of the north pacific ocean and bering sea, early extinction was in store. these gentle and beautiful animals are easily taken by hunters who land on the ice floes, where they bask by the thousands, and slaughter them right and left with heavy clubs. the eager demand of fashionable women the world over for garments made of their soft, warm fur, stimulated pot-hunters to prodigious efforts of murder. no attention was given to the breeding season, mothers with young cubs were slain as ruthlessly as any. schooners and small steamers manned by as savage and lawless men as have sailed the seas since the days of the slave-trade, put out from scores of ports, each captain eager only to make the biggest catch of the year, and heedless whether after him there should be any more seals left for the future. this sort of hunting soon began to tell on the numbers of the hapless animals, and the united states government sent out a party of scientific men in the revenue cutter "lincoln," to investigate conditions, particularly in the pribylof islands, which had long been the favorite sealing ground. as a result of this investigation, the united states and great britain entered into a treaty prohibiting the taking of seals within sixty miles of these islands, thus establishing for the animals a safe breeding-place. the enforcement of the provisions of this treaty has fallen upon the vessels of the revenue service, which are kept constantly patrolling the waters about the islands, boarding vessels, counting the skins, and investigating the vessel's movements. it has been a duty requiring much tact and firmness, for many of the sealers are british, and the gravest international dissension might have arisen from any unwarrantable or arbitrary interference with their acts. the extent of the duty devolving upon the cutters is indicated by some figures of their work in a single year. the territory they patrolled covered sixty degrees of longitude and twenty-five of latitude, and the cruising distance of the fleet was 77,461 miles. ninety-four vessels were boarded and examined, over 31,000 skins counted, and four vessels were seized for violation of the treaty. in the course of this work, the cutters engaged in it have performed many useful and picturesque services. on one occasion it fell to one of them to go to the rescue of a fleet of american whalers who, nipped by an unusually early winter in the polar regions, were caught in a great ice floe, and in grave danger of starving to death. the men from the cutters hauled food across the broad expanse of ice, and aided the imprisoned sailors to win their freedom. the revenue officers, furthermore, have been to the people of alaska the respected representatives of law and order, and in many cases the arbiters and enforcers of justice. along the coast of alaska live tribes of simple and ignorant indians, who were for years the prey of conscienceless whites, many of whom turned from the business of sealing, when the two governments undertook its regulation, to take up the easier trade of fleecing the indians. the natives were all practised trappers and hunters, and as the limitations upon sealing did not apply to them, they had pelts to sell that were well worth the buying. ignorant of the values of goods, eager for guns and glittering knives, and always easily stupefied with whisky, the indians were easy prey to the sea traders. for a gun of doubtful utility, or a jug of fiery whisky, the indian would not infrequently barter away the proceeds of a whole year of hunting and fishing, and be left to face the winter with his family penniless. it has been the duty of the officers of the revenue cutters serving on the north pacific station to suppress this illicit trade, and to protect the indians, as far as possible, from fraud and extortion. the task has been no easy one, but it has been discharged so far as human capacity would permit, so that the alaska indians have come to look upon the men wearing the revenue uniform as friends and counselors, while to a great extent the semi-piratical sailors who infested the coast have been driven into other lines of dishonest endeavor. perhaps not since the days of lafitte and the pirates of barataria has any part of the coast of the united states been cursed with so criminal and abandoned a lot of sea marauders as have for a decade frequented the waters off alaska, the pribylof islands, and the sealing regions. the outlawry of a great part of the seal trade, and the consequent heavy profits of those who are able to make one or two successful cruises uncaught by officers of the law, have attracted thither the reckless and desperate characters of every sea, and with these the revenue cutters have to cope. yet so diversified are the duties of this service that the revenue officers may turn from chasing an illicit sealer to go to the rescue of whalers nipped in the ice, or may make a cruise along the coast to deliver supplies from the department of education to mission schools along bering sea and the arctic ocean, or to carry succor to a party of miners known to be in distress. the rapid development of alaska since the discoveries of gold has greatly added to the duties of this fleet. [illustration: revenue cutter] the revenue service stands midway between the merchant service and the navy. it may almost be said that the officers engaged in it suffer the disadvantages of both forms of sea service without enjoying the advantages of either. unlike navy officers, they do not have a "retired list" to look forward to, against the time when they shall be old, decrepit, and unfit for duty. congress has, indeed, made provision for placing certain specified officers on a roll called "permanent waiting orders," but this has been but a temporary makeshift, and no officer can feel assured that this provision will be made for him. promotion, too, while quite as slow as in the navy, is limited. the highest officer in the service is a captain, his pay $2500 a year--but a sorry reward for a lifetime of arduous labor at sea, during which the officer may have been in frequent peril of his life, knowing all the time that for death in the discharge of duty, the government will pay no pension to his heirs unless the disaster occurred while he was "cooperating with the navy." in one single year the records of the revenue service show more than one hundred lives saved by its activity, without taking into consideration those on vessels warned away from dangerous points by cutters. yet neither in pay, in provision for their old age, or for their families in case of death met in the discharge of duty, are the revenue officers rewarded by the government as are navy officers, while public knowledge and admiration for the service is vastly less than for the navy. it is a curious phenomenon, and yet one as old at least as the records of man, that the professional killer--that is to say, the officer of the army or navy--has always been held in higher esteem socially, and more lavishly rewarded, than the man whose calling it is to save life. to a very considerable degree the life-saving service of the united states is an outgrowth of the revenue marine. to sojourners by the waterside, on the shores of either ocean or lake, the trim little life-saving stations are a familiar sight, and summer pleasure-seekers are entertained with the exhibition drills of the crews in the surf. it is the holiday side of this service as a rule that the people chiefly know, but its records show how far from being all holiday pleasure it is. in 1901 the men of the life-saving corps were called to give aid to 377 wrecked ships. of property in jeopardy valued at $7,354,000, they saved $6,405,035 worth. of 93,792 human beings in peril of death in the waters, all save 979 were saved. these are the figures relating only to considerable shipwrecks, but as life-saving stations are established at nearly every harbor's mouth, and are plentiful about the pleasure cruising grounds of yachts and small sailboats, hundreds of lives are annually saved by the crews in ways that attract little attention. in 1901 the records show 117 such rescues. the idea of the life-saving service originated with a distinguished citizen of new jersey, a state whose sandy coast has been the scene of hundreds of fatal shipwrecks. in the summer of 1839 william a. newell, a young citizen of that state, destined later to be its governor, stood on the beach near barnegat in a raging tempest, and watched the austrian brig "count perasto" drift onto the shoals. three hundred yards from shore she struck, and lay helpless with the breakers foaming over her. the crew clung to the rigging for a time, but at last, fearing that she was about to go to pieces, flung themselves into the raging sea, and strove to swim ashore. all were drowned, and when the storm went down, the dead bodies of thirteen sailors lay strewn along the beach, while the ship itself was stranded high and dry, but practically unhurt, far above the water line. "the bow of the brig being elevated and close to the shore after the storm had ceased," wrote mr. newell, in describing the event long years after, "the idea was forced quickly upon my mind that those unfortunate sailors might have been saved if a line could have been thrown to them across the fatal chasm. it was only a short distance to the bar, and they could have been hauled ashore in their small boat through, or in, the surf.... i instituted experiments by throwing light lines with bows and arrows, by rockets, and by a shortened blunderbuss with ball and line. my idea culminated in complete success, however, by the use of a mortar, or a carronade, and a ball and line. then i found, to my great delight, that it was an easy matter to carry out my desired purpose." shortly after interesting himself in this matter mr. newell was elected to congress, and there worked untiringly to persuade the national government to lend its aid to the life-saving system of which he had conceived the fundamental idea. in 1848 he secured the first appropriation for a service to cover only the coast of new jersey. since then it has been continually extended until in 1901 the life-saving establishment embraced 270 stations on the atlantic, pacific, and lake coasts. the appropriation for the year was $1,640,000. for many years the service was a branch of the revenue marine, and when in 1878 it was made a separate bureau, the former chief of the revenue marine bureau was put at its head. the drill-masters for the crews are chosen from the revenue service, as also are the inspectors. [illustration: launching a lifeboat through the surf] the methods of work in the life-saving service have long been familiar, partly because at each of the recurring expositions of late years, the service has been represented by a model station and a crew which went daily through all the operations of shooting a line over a stranded ship, bringing a sailor ashore in the breeches-buoy or the life-car, and drilling in the non-sinkable, self-righting surf-boat. along the atlantic coast the stations are so thickly distributed that practically the whole coast from sandy hook to hatteras is continually under patrol by watchful sentries. night and day, if the weather be stormy or threatening, patrolmen set out from each station, walking down the beach and keeping a sharp eye out for any vessel in the offing. midway between the stations they meet, then each returns to his own post. in the bitter nights of winter, with an icy northeaster blowing and the flying spray, half-frozen, from the surf, driven by the gale until it cuts like a knife, the patrolman's task is no easy one. indeed, there is perhaps no form of human endeavor about which there is more constant discomfort and positive danger than the life-saving service. it is the duty of the men to defy danger, to risk their lives whenever occasion demands, and the long records of the service show uncounted cases of magnificent heroism, and none of failure in the face of duty. a form of seafaring which still retains many of the characteristics of the time when yankee sailors braved all seas and all weather in trig little wooden schooners, is the pilot service at american ports, and notably at new york. even here, however, the inroads of steam are beginning to rob the life of its old-time picturesqueness, though as they tend to make it more certain that the pilot shall survive the perils of his calling, they are naturally welcomed. under the law every foreign vessel entering an american port must take a pilot. if the captain thinks himself able to thread the channel himself, he may do so; but nevertheless he has to pay the regular pilot fee, and if the vessel is lost, he alone is responsible, and his owners will have trouble with the insurance companies. so the law is acquiesced in, perhaps not very cheerfully, and there have grown up at each american port men who from boyhood have studied the channels until they can thread them with the biggest steamship in the densest fog and never touch bottom. new york as the chief port has the largest body of pilots, and in the old days, before the triumph of steam, had a fleet of some thirty boats, trim little schooners of about eighty tons, rigged like yachts, and often outsailing the best of them. in those days the rivalry between the pilots for ships was keen and the pilot-boats would not infrequently cruise as far east as sable island to lay in wait for their game. that was in the era of sailing ships and infrequent steamers, and it was the period of the greatest mortality among the pilots; for staunch as their little boats were, and consummate as was their seamanship, they were not fitted for such long cruises. the marine underwriters in those days used to reckon on a loss of at least one pilot-boat annually. since 1838 forty-six have been lost, thirteen going down with all on board. in late years, however, changes in the methods of pilotage have greatly decreased the risks run by the boats. when the great ocean liners began trying to make "record trips" between their european ports and sandy hook, their captains became unwilling to slow up five hundred miles from new york to take a pilot. they want to drive their vessels for every bit of speed that is in them, at least until reported from fire island. the slower boats, the ocean tramps, too, look with disfavor on shipping a pilot far out at sea, for it meant only an idler aboard, to be fed until the mouth of the harbor was reached. so the rivalry between the pilots gave way to cooperation. a steamer was built to serve as a station-boat, which keeps its position just outside new york harbor, and supplies pilots for the eight boats of the fleet that cruise over fixed beats a few score miles away. but this change in the system has not so greatly reduced the individual pilot's chance of giving up his life in tribute to neptune, for the great peril of his calling--that involved in getting from his pilot-boat to the deck of the steamer he is to take in--remains unabated. [illustration: the exciting moment in the pilot's trade] professional pride no less than hope of profit makes the pilot take every imaginable risk to get to his ship. he draws no regular salary, but his fee is graduated by the draft of the vessel he pilots. when a ship is sighted coming into port, the pilot-boat makes for her. if she has a blue flag in her rigging, half way up, by day, she has a pilot aboard. at night, the pilot-boats show a blue flare, by way of query. if the ship makes no answer, she is known to be supplied, and passes without slowing up; but if in response to signal she indicates that she is in need of a pilot, the exciting moment in the pilot's trade is at hand. perhaps the night is pitchy dark, with a gale blowing and a heavy sea on: but the pilot slips on his shore clothes and his derby hat--it is considered unprofessional to wear anything more nautical--and makes ready to board. the little schooner runs up to leeward of where the great liner, with her long rows of gleaming portholes, lies rolling heavily in the sea. sharp up into the wind comes the midget, and almost before she has lost steerage way a yawl is slid over the side, the pilot and two oarsmen tumble into it, and make for the side of the steamship. to climb a rope-ladder up the perpendicular face of a precipice thirty feet high on an icy night is no easy task at best; but if your start is from a boat that is being tossed up and down on a rolling sea, if your precipice has a way of varying from a strict perpendicular to an overhanging cliff, and then in an instant thrusting out its base so that the climber's knees and knuckles come with a sharp bang against it, while the next moment he is dropped to his shoulders in icy sea-water, the difficulties of the task are naturally increased. the instant the pilot puts his feet on the ladder he must run up it for dear life if he would escape a ducking, and lucky he is if the upward roll does not hurl him against the side of the ship with force enough to break his hold and drop him overboard. sometimes in the dead of winter the ship is iced from the water-line to the rail, and the task of boarding is about equivalent to climbing a rolling iceberg. but whatever the difficulty, the pilot meets and conquers it--or else dies trying. it is all in the day's work for them. accidents come in the form of boats run down by careless steamers, pilots crushed against the side or thrown into the sea by the roll of the vessel, the foundering of the pilot-boat or its loss on a lee shore; but still the ranks of the pilots are kept full by the admission to a long apprenticeship of boys who are ready to enter this adventurous and arduous calling. few occupations require a more assiduous preparation, and the members of but few callings are able to guard themselves so well against the danger of over-competition. nevertheless the earnings of the pilots are not great. they come under the operation of the rule already noted, that the more dangerous a calling is, the less are its rewards. three thousand dollars a year is a high income for a pilot sailing out of new york harbor, and even this is decreasing as the ships grow bigger and fewer. nor can he be at all certain as to what his income will be at any time, for the element of luck enters into it almost as much as into gambling. for weeks he may catch only small ships, or, the worst ill-luck that can befall a pilot, he may get caught on an outbound ship and be carried away for a six weeks' voyage, during which time he can earn nothing. but the pilot, like the typical sailor of whatever grade, is inured to hard luck and accustomed to danger. such are some of the safeguards which modern science and organization have provided for the sailor in pursuit of his always hazardous calling. many others of course could be enumerated. the service of the weather bureau, by which warning of impending storms is given to mariners, is already of the highest utility. the new invention of wireless telegraphy, by which a ship at sea may call for aid from ashore, perhaps a thousand miles away, has great possibilities. modern marine architecture is making steamships almost unsinkable, more quickly responsive to their helms, more seaworthy in every way. perhaps with the perfection of the submarine boat, ships, instead of being tossed on the boisterous surface of the waves, may go straight to their destination through the placid depths of ocean. but whatever the future may bring, the history of the american sailor will always bear evidence that he did not wait for the perfection of safety devices to wrest from the ocean all that there was of value in the conquest; that no peril daunted him, nor was any sea, however distant, a stranger to his adventurous sail. much has been said and written of the improvidence of the sailor, of his profligacy when in port, his childlike helplessness when in the hands of the landsharks who haunt the waterside streets, his blind reliance upon luck to get him out of difficulties, and his utter indifference to all precautionary provisions for the proverbial rainy day. perhaps the sailor has been getting a shade the worse of it in the literature on this subject, for he, himself, is hardly literary in his habits, and has not been able to tell his own story. the world has heard much of the jolly jack tars who spend in a few days' revel in waterside dives the whole proceeds of a year's cruise; but it has heard less of the shrewd schemes which are devised for fleecing poor jack, and applied by every one with whom he comes in contact, from the prosperous owner who pays him off in orders that can only be conveniently cashed at some outfitter's, who charges usurious rates for the accommodation, down to the tawdry drab who collects advance money on account of half a dozen sailor husbands. the seaman landing with money in his pocket in any large town is like the hapless fish in some of our much-angled streams. it is not enough to avoid the tempting bait displayed on every side. so thick are the hooks and snares that merely to swim along, intent on his own business, is likely to result sooner or later in his being impaled on some cruel barb. not enough has been said, either, of the hundreds of american lads who shipped before the mast, made their voyages around cape horn and through all the seven seas, resisted the temptations of the sailors' quarters in a score of ports, kept themselves clean morally and physically, and came, in time, to the command and even the ownership of vessels. among sailors, as in other callings, there are the idle and the industrious apprentices, and the lesson taught by hogarth's famous pictures is as applicable to them that go down to the sea in ships as to the workers at the loom. it is doubtful, too, whether the sailor is either more gullible or more dissolute when in port than the cowboy when in town for a day's frolic, or the miner just in camp with a pocket full of dust, after months of solitude on his claim. men are much of a sort, whatever their calling. after weeks of monotonous and wearing toil, they are apt to go to extremes when the time for relaxation comes. men whose physical natures only are fully developed seek physical pleasures, and the sailor's life is not one to cultivate a taste for the quieter forms of recreation. but the romance that has always surrounded the sailor's character, his real improvidence, and his supposedly unique simplicity have, in some slight degree, redounded to his advantage. they have led people in all lands to form organizations for his aid, protection, and guidance, hospitals to care for him in illness, asylums and homes to provide for the days of his old age and decrepitude. best known of all these charitable institutions for the good of jack tar is the sailor's snug harbor, whose dignified buildings on staten island look out across the finest harbor in the world to where new york's tall buildings tower high above the maintop-gallant mast of the biggest ship ever built. this institution, founded just one hundred years ago by the will of captain robert r. randall, himself an american sailor of the old type, who amassed his fortune trading to all the countries on the globe, now has an income of $400,000 annually, and cares for 900 old sailors, each of whom must have sailed for at least five years under the american flag. * * * * * a new chapter in the story of the american sailor is opening as this book is closed. the period of the decadence of the american merchant marine is clearly ended, and everything gives assurance that the first quarter of this new century will do as much toward re-establishing the united states flag on the high seas as the first quarter of the nineteenth century did toward first putting it there. as these words are being written, every shipyard in the united states is busy, and some have orders that will tax their capacity for three years to come. new yards are being planned and small establishments, designed only to build pleasure craft, are reaching out after greater things. the two biggest steamships ever planned are building near new london, where four years ago was no sign of shipyard or factory. the great lakes and the pacific coast ring with the sound of the steel ship-builder's hammer. but will the american sailor share in the new life of the american ship? the question is no easy one to answer. modern shipping methods offer little opportunity for ambitious lads to make their way from the forecastle to the owner's desk. the methods by which the cleavelands, crowninshields, lows, and their fellows in the early shipping trade won their success, have no place in modern economy. as i write, the actual head of the greatest shipping concern the world has ever known, is a wall street banker, whose knowledge of the sea was gained from the deck of a private steam yacht or the cabin _de luxe_ of a fast liner, and who has applied to the shipping business only the same methods of stock manipulating that made him the greatest railroad director in the world before he thought to control the ocean as well. with steam, the sailor has become a mere deckhand; the captain a man of business and a disciplinarian, who may not know the names of the ropes on a real ship; the owner a corporation; the voyages mere trips to and fro between designated ports made with the regularity and the monotony of a sleeping-car's trips between chicago and san francisco. until these conditions shall materially change, there is little likelihood that the sea will again attract restless, energetic, and ambitious young americans. men of the type that we have described in earlier chapters of this book do not adopt a life calling that will forever keep them in subordinate positions, subject to the whims and domination of an employing corporation. a genial satirist, writing of the sort of men who became first lords of the admiralty in england, said: "mind your own business and never go to sea, and you'll come to be the ruler of the queen's navee." perhaps a like situation confronts the american merchant marine in its new development. 