The master of a smack was lately accused of having murdered an
apprentice; so the mob made desperate attempts to lynch the prisoner
every time he was brought before the magistrates. They heard that the
dead boy used to be beaten with ropes'-ends, kicked, dragged along the
deck, drenched with cold water, and subjected to other ingenious modes
of discipline, and they were horrified. Yet only a few years ago no
surprise or indignation greeted a skipper who habitually ill-used his
cabin-boys. If screams were heard coming from a collier in the Pool, the
men in neighbouring vessels scarcely took the trouble to turn round.
They know that some unhappy boy was being corrected; and they believed
in stripes and bruises as necessary agencies in nautical education. When
a weakly lad chanced to die he was dropped overboard, and there was an
end of the matter; the strong lads who lived through these brutalities
grew into fine sailors.
Times are altered. The old-fashioned sailor is an extinct creature, and
modern conditions have developed a totally new variety. The
old-fashioned sailor was brought up in an atmosphere of rough cruelty;
the new-fashioned sailor will submit to no tyranny whatever. The
old-fashioned skipper was very like the Hull culprit in habits and
customs; the new-fashioned skipper is overbearing and often conceited,
but rarely brutal.
They formed a strange society, did those East Coast sailors of past
days. A boy grew up in one of the brisk little ports that lay between
Wivenhoe and Spittal. The notion of inland life had no place in his
mind, for his thoughts in early years suffered a sea change. He played
on the quay, and heard the growling talk of the lounging, bearded
sailors; so that he soon became critical in the matter of ships and
seamanship. He could tell you the name of every black and apple-bowed
vessel that came curtseying over the bar on the flood tide; and he would
prove the superiority of the "Halicore" over the "Mary Jane," with many
clenching allusions to aged authorities. If the black fleet went out
with a northerly breeze blowing, he could name the ship that would be
first clear of the ruck; if the wind were off the land, he knew which
ship would be suited by having the breeze on the beam. Long before he
ever saw the outside of the bar he had heard of every point on the
coast. The possibility of becoming anything but a sailor never entered
his head. He tried to copy the flat-footed rolling walk of the seamen,
and he longed for the time when he might wear a braided cap and smoke a
pipe. While yet little more than a child he went on his trial voyage,
and had his first experience of sea-sickness. Then he was bound
apprentice for five years, his wages beginning at L8 per year, and
increasing yearly by L2 until the end of his term. His troubles began
after his indentures were signed. The average skipper had no thought of
cruelty and yet was very cruel. The poor lad had a very scanty allowance
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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