ecame a
herd of blackmailers, and were encouraged in it by some agency or
other, who shared the plunder. One old captain, with an expression of
sadness on his face, told me, on my first visit to Cronstadt since I
was a boy, that everything had changed for the worse.

"At one time," said he, "you never got up of a morning without seeing
a few dead Russians floating about. You could chuck them overboard if
you liked, and nobody interfered. Many a time I've put one over the
side. But now you dare not whisper, much less touch them."

The general opinion amongst English seamen, from the master downwards,
was that a great injustice had been done to us by the Decree of
Liberation.

On one occasion I lay alongside a Yankee ship which was loading flax.
Work had ceased for breakfast. I saw the chief officer on the poop,
said "Good morning" to him, and asked him how the loading was going
on.

"Well," said he, "it goes not so bad, but we've had an accident this
morning which stopped us for nearly an hour. There were three or four
bales of flax slung in the hatchway; the slings slipped, and the bales
fell right on a dozen Russians."

"That is very serious," I said. "Did it kill them?"

"No," drawled he, with a slow smile; "it didn't exactly kill them, but
I guess it has flattened them out some."

The "Bran" Wharf was then a large pontoon, with dwelling accommodation
for Custom-house officers and harbour officials. It was moored just at
the entrance to the dock or mole, and was in charge of an official who
regulated the berthing of vessels. This man was originally a boatswain
aboard a Russian warship. He was illiterate, but very clever, so much
so that great power was put into his hands; indeed, he became quite as
powerful in his way as his Imperial Majesty himself. Every
conceivable complaint and petty dispute was taken to him, and it was
soon found that it could be settled in a way that did not involve a
fine or imprisonment. In fact, there were occasions when a favourite
English captain or mate asked this official's aid in getting the
Russians to work properly. He would, if agreeably disposed, come
aboard, spit, stamp, and swear at the men in a most picturesque way,
and if he had had a glass or two of grog, or wanted one, and the
captain or mate made a very bad report, he would lash the skulkers
with a piece of rope. When he was finished there was no more need for
complaint. This notorious person was called Tom the Boatsw