Part 32

Long before the anchorage was reached a handsome white steamer was seen approaching us, with a vertically striped flag in the stern. It was the revenue cutter; and, steaming alongside, four men at once stepped on board. The first was the customs inspector, and the others, a deputy United States marshal and two policemen. It was a dramatic scene. All of our men were huddled around the galley, with anxious looks toward the officers of the law, who immediately went into the cabin and held a long conversation in low tones with the captain. Then the deputy marshal stepped into the second mate’s room and talked with him five minutes in whispers, a blue-coat posting himself at each cabin door. A rattling of keys was heard in another moment, and then old Goggins, somewhat awed, but as pompous and ridiculous as a turkey, stumped down into the lazarette, and with much unnecessary clanking of chains Louis issued forth into daylight. He was as pale as ashes, for a sort of prison pallor was upon his usually dark cheeks, and he seemed on the point of breaking down when he saw the police. Then he looked all around imploringly, first at his shipmates near the galley, then at Captain Scruggs, and finally he caught sight of us, when he cast upon us a look so sad and beseeching that I will remember forever the sorrowful look in his eyes. Only for an instant did he stop, though; the officers stepped forward at a nod from the deputy, grasped the Frenchman, still manacled, by the collar, marched him quickly over to the port side, hustled him aboard the revenue boat, and in another instant Louis Jacquin, able seaman, of Dunquerque, disappeared from view and was on his way to show cause for an assault on the high seas upon Thomas Rarx, second mate of the clipper “Hosea Higgins.”

When the anchor had touched the bottom we stood by for the crimps. Even before we were aware of it the evil creatures began to swarm on board like a flock of sinister vultures, and without ceremony they fell upon their prey. They plied the men from bottles whose black nozzles protruded from their coat-pockets; and in a few minutes each had persuaded his man to go with him when they should get ashore. Poor fellows, once more in the clutches of the vampires, who, while not actually fostered by the government, yet are allowed to ply their abominable and iniquitous trade full in the face of the law. And I repeat, _the allotment or advance system of wages that now prevails, and which is the basis upon which the whole scheme of crimping is founded, must be abolished_. It is the duty of the Federal government to see to it that this is done.

At fifteen minutes past twelve there was a loud order from the captain, “Let go.” Then came the heavy, crushing splash, the fierce rush of the cable, the big four-thousand-pound anchor gripped the mud of San Francisco Bay, and our long voyage was a thing of the past. How many exciting moments we had had in those one hundred and thirty-one days! What varied phases of the ocean we had witnessed in the seventeen thousand four hundred miles we had sailed, from the snowy squalls and hissing seas of Cape Horn to the quiet breezes and calm surface of the equatorial seas!

Little time was given us for reflection, though, for the tug-boat skipper had agreed to put us ashore at the foot of Market Street, if we would “look alive.” So we threw our valises and shawl-straps to a deck-hand on the tug, shook Captain Scruggs’ hardy fist, and then turned to do the same with Mr. Goggins; but as this individual was invisible at the time, no doubt below in the fore-peak, we were obliged to forego that pleasure. And now there ensued a remarkable scene: as we went over the side we noticed that all the sailors were on the mainyard, unbending the sail, and as we stepped aboard the tow-boat I shouted, “Good-by, boys! Good luck to you all!” There was a moment’s silence, and then Broadhead, who was at the starboard yard-arm just over our heads, sung out, “Now, fellows, three times three for them”; and at once there broke out the most vociferous and lusty cheering that ever came from eighteen throats. The men seemed to get worked up as they shouted, and at last MacFoy and a dozen others fairly yelled and threw their caps on deck and waved their arms like madmen, so that their voices went ringing peal on peal over the broad harbor, bringing to the rail the officers and crews of the big Scotch ships “Aberfoyle,” “County of Linlithgow” and “Blairgowrie,” which lay hard by, to know what all this cheering meant on a Yankee just in from sea. It was a moment to bring a tear to your eye; and neither my wife nor I can ever forget these honest, big-hearted sailors as they appeared on that yard, shouting themselves hoarse. Why? Simply because we had bade them good-morning and good-night during the voyage and had shown that we understood and appreciated their hard and thankless labors. If ship-masters would realize that a single kind word or even look often exerts more influence over a crew than oaths and blows, what a difference there would be in the handling and navigating of our long-voyage sailing ships!

APPENDIX

A few days after our arrival at San Francisco, Louis Jacquin was brought for trial at that port before the United States Commissioner. He made an excellent defence; so good, indeed, that after due consideration of both sides of the case, the commissioner was compelled to discharge him, and Louis walked forth a free man. This was a just and most satisfactory termination of the matter, though I would have liked to see Rarx properly punished for his treatment of Karl _et al._ In truth, Karl, Brün and Pettersen did prefer charges against both mates, who were held for trial; but when the case came up no witnesses appeared against them, for the very good reason that the three men were shanghaied aboard a New York bound ship by the boarding masters, thus pursuing the usual course in such matters. Rarx recovered in a short time, and no doubt is at this moment stamping on some poor fellow whom he has beaten down with the ever-present belaying-pin.

While this book was in press, there arrived at San Francisco one of our most widely known Cape-Horners. The men related stories of unusually shocking cruelties on the part of the captain as well as the officers, and the second mate was held in five hundred dollars bonds. Two of the sailors testified, on separate occasions, to this incident: While wearing off the Horn one day, the second mate struck a sailor down with a capstan-bar and was kicking him heavily in the head, when the mate yelled from the poop, “That’s right, kick the life out of him”; to which the second mate replied, “I would kill him if we were only bound to Hong-Kong.”

Is this the way our consuls protect the lives of men under the flag? What is the matter with our Eastern consular service that men may be killed on our ships (as they have been), and the murderers go free upon landing at Chinese and Japanese ports? A delightful travesty, indeed, upon our exalted civilization.

THE END.

Transcriber’s Notes

Perceived typographical errors have been silently corrected.

Colloquial spelling in dialog has been retained as in the original.

Variations in use of hyphenation, compound words and quotation marks have been preserved.

Illustrations have been moved nearer to the text to which they refer.