vessel halfway down Channel, when, discovering by
that time what sort of provisions had been shipped for them, they forced
the master to shift his helm for the inwards course. The crew of
thirteen or fourteen hairy, queerly attired fellows, in Scotch caps,
divers-coloured shirts, dungaree breeches stuffed into half wellingtons,
were brought before the magistrates. The bench consisted of an old sea
captain, who had lost a ship in his day through the ill conduct of his
crew, and whose hatred of the forecastle hand was strong and peculiar; a
parson, who knew about as much of the sea as his wife; a medical
practitioner, and a schoolmaster. I was present, and listened to the
men's evidence, and I also heard the captain's story. Samples of the
food were produced. A person with whom I had some acquaintance found me
an opportunity to examine and taste samples of the forecastle provisions
of the ship whose crew had mutinied. Nothing more atrociously nasty
could be found amongst the neglected putrid sweepings of a butcher's
back premises. Nothing viler in the shape of food ever set a famished
mongrel hiccoughing. Nevertheless, this crew of thirteen or fourteen
men, for refusing to sail in the vessel unless fresh forecastle stores
were shipped, were sent to gaol for terms ranging from three to six
weeks.

[Illustration: THE WRECK OF THE 'GROSVENOR']

Some time earlier than this there had been legislation helpful to the
seaman through the humane and impassioned struggles of Mr. Samuel
Plimsoll. The crazy, rotten old coaster had been knocked into staves.
The avaricious owner had been compelled to load with some regard to the
safety of sailors. But I could not help thinking that the shore-going
menace of the sailor's life did not lie merely in overloaded ships, and
in crazy, porous hulls. Mutinies were incessantly happening in
consequence of the loathsome food shipped for sailors' use, and many
disasters attended these outbreaks. When I came away from the
magistrates' court, after hearing the men sentenced, I found my mind
full of that crew's grievance. I reflected upon what Mr. Plimsoll had
done, and how much of the hidden parts of the sea life remained to be
exposed to the public eye, to the advantage of the sailor, providing the
subject should be dealt with by one who had himself suffered, and very
well understood what he sat down to write about. This put into my head
the idea of the tale which I afterwards called 'The Wreck of t