The Notorious Case of the Stowaways on the Arran

Originally published in The Stowaways and Other Sketches: True Tales of the Sea By John Donald

Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints

Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

THE STOWAWAYS ON THE "ARRAN" Disquieting Rumours The good folks of Greenock were greatly disturbed in their enjoyment of the Fair Holidays of 1868. Following the receipt by a townsman of a letter from Quebec, the wildest rumours were afloat concerning the fate of a number of boys who had stowed away in the ship, 'Arran bound for Quebec, some three months previously. It was said that after being subjected by the captain and the mate to most brutal treatment on the voyage out, they had been put ashore on the ice at a point of Newfoundland and left to their fate. According to one account all had perished; while another version was that some had escaped with their lives, but which of them, no one could tell. Not only were the parents of the boys known to have gone off with the vessel in a state of intense anxiety; other parents, whose boys had run off and whose whereabouts were doubtful, were almost equally perturbed, while a strong feeling of indignation ran through the whole community. Public interest was thoroughly aroused, and the boys on the ice formed the main topic of conversation everywhere. The Voyage. The wooden ship 'Arran, owned nominally by Messrs. Ferguson & Hendry, of Greenock, and commanded by Captain Robert Watt, left the Victoria Harbour for Quebec on 7th April, 1868, with a cargo of coal and oakum. Before the tugboat left the vessel in the Firth the usual search for stowaways resulted in a couple of urchins being hauled up by the scruff of the neck and bundled on board the steamer; but after its departure, and when it was beyond recall when, indeed, the carpenter was about to batten down the hatches in view of prospective heavy weather other seven stowaways emerged from various hiding places. These were Hugh M'Ewan, 11 years of age, who resided with a widowed mother in High Street, Glasgow ; John Paul, 11 years, Dalrymple Street, Greenock; Hugh M'Ginnes, 12 years, whose mother, a widow, resided in Nicolson Street, Greenock; Peter Currie, 12 years, York Street, Glebe, Greenock ; James Bryson, 16 years, Rueend Street, Greenock; David Brand, 16 years, Kirk Street, Glebe, Greenock; and Bernard Reilly, 22-24 years, who had been in lodgings in the town. Paul and M'Ewan, who had been chums ashore (the latter having evidently lived in Greenock before removing to Glasgow) were the first to show themselves to the carpenter, who handed them over to the mate, and he, in turn, led them aft to the master. Captain Watt was quite a pleasant-looking man, twenty-eight years of age, about five feet eight inches in height, with dark brown hair, his slight beard and moustache being a shade lighter in colour. His conversation was agreeable, and he had the reputation of dealing kindly with those under his command. He was evidently much annoyed at the appearance of the stowaways, however; for, clutching little Paul by the collar of his jacket and shaking him roughly, he demanded: What are you doing here? Please sir, we want to be sailors." The captain laughed contemptuouslyand little wonder he did so. Imagine those two children, who should have been at school, standing shivering before the master. M'Ewan was fairly well attired, Paul was poorly clad and bare-footed, and both were very hungry. What food have you had since you came on board? asked the captain. Please, sir, we had four barm biscuits between us." Well, you needn't expect much from me, said the captain; but he added, take them along to the cook, and let them get something to eat." The cook, who appears to have been a good-hearted man, gave them a warm meal of tea and hash, which, we may be sure, they fully appreciated, and thereafter, the evening being well advanced, they were allowed to sleep in a sail locker. Meantime M'Ginnes (who, like Paul, was barefooted), Bryson, Brand, Reilly, and Currie had been similarly dealt with; and it was only on the following day that all the boys first came together. Some of them were sea-sick when they turned out, and before long the others were similarly affected; but all were set to work washing down decks or performing such tasks as are usually allotted to boys on board ship.

Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

An ample provision of rations was authorised by Captain Watt, including among other necessary items, 5 Ibs. of beef per day and 14 oz. coffee, 7 oz. tea, and 5 Ibs. sugar per week, so that it appears the captain's intention at the outset was to treat the boys reasonably well. Unfortunately for those boys, however, the master was as putty in the hands of his mate, and weakly allowed the latter to override his orders. During the first three or four days of the voyage fine weather was experienced, but after that gale succeeded gale. This, of course, had the effect of continuing or renewing the nausea of the stowaways and the mate observed one of them vomiting some pieces of meat. Notwithstanding the master's instructions, this brutal man ordered the steward to stop all beef supplies to the stowaways, declaring that he was going to give them the ground of their stomachs before they get any more, and that was the first act of a long course of persistent cruelty. Now, I set out to tell this story impartially, unbiased by preconceived opinion or any other influence, from within or without, and I shall continue to do so; but I am bound to say that, after having evolved, collated, and fully considered the facts of the case, I can find no excuse for the mate's brutal conduct. He was, in my opinion, a heartless wretch. His name was James Kerr, he was thirty-one years of age, and he hailed from Lochranza, in the island of Arran. Described as a rough-looking man, about five feet seven inches high, thin, of determined mien, with dark hair, full beard and moustache, and of a coarse, unfeeling, and dominating nature, he vented an unwarranted spite against those poor stowaways, with one exception the lad Currie, whose father was said to be a friend of the mate. When passing the boys he kicked them without the slightest provocation, and when he found them in fault, their punishment was cruelly excessive. In a letter, dated 10th June, 1868, written from Quebec to his family in Greenock, one of the crew states: The boys were thinly clad, and were not able to stand the severe cold. The men could hardly stand it, let alone them. Two of the little ones had their bare feet, and, as we were going so far to the northward amongst hail, frost, snow, and raining continually, none of them would keep on deck to work. As soon as the mate missed them he went with a rope's end in hand and ordered them out, and, as they came out, gave them a walloping, and pretty often very severely. The captain never interfered with the mate and them till, one good day, the hatches were all opened and the crew, on going to shift some oakum and coils of rope where the stowaways slept, found them all besmeared with filth. Then he did give them a thrashing, and made all hands clean it up. It would take too long to tell you how they were used, so I will give you the end of them. Further quotation would anticipate events; but, in due course, I shall revert to this letter, which was written quite impartially and without the slightest idea that it would ever be published. If the mate did not mean to starve the stowaways literally, starve them it is difficult to understand what he did mean; for, from the day when he stopped their beef supply he stopped all other food with the exception of biscuits, and these were doled out to the boys in starvation quantities. Some days (Currie, on his return, told a Greenock Telegraph reporter) they got one biscuit each, other days only half a biscuit, and sometimes even one biscuit among four boys, just as the mate thought proper. But they had a friend in the cook, who privately supplied them with scraps of food. Brutal Treatment of Bryson The thrashing referred to in the letter just quoted is an important incident, and Bryson bore the brunt of it. He appears to have been of an inferior type to the other boys, being dirty in his habits, not inclined to work, and given to petty pilfering. The mess of filth in the hold was caused chiefly, if not entirely, by him, and he suffered severely for the offence. Although he pleaded in excuse that he had a bowel complaint, Kerr, the mate, ordered him to take off all his clothes excepting his semmit and trousers, and then flogged him heavily with the lead line a rope half-inch thick for about three minutes. The poor boy ran forward screaming with pain, and was followed by the captain, who had been cognisant of the mate's action and now commanded the boy to divest himself of his semmit and trousers, leaving him stark naked. It was freezing at this time, yet the lad was compelled to lie down on the deck, while a seaman named Robert Hunter was ordered to draw buckets of water and dash them over the shivering body. Meanwhile Captain Watt, having procured a coarse broom used for washing decks, scrubbed the wretched boy all over the body, the sea water being dashed on from time to time, three or four bucketfuls being applied. After the captain had finished, the mate took the instrument of torture (for it was nothing else) and scrubbed the lad all over again, harder, we are told, than did the captain. Then, with a refinement of cruelty, he ordered the victim's fellowstowaway, Brand, to scrub him a third time while he (the mate) held him down. During the operations of the master Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

and mate the boy had been turned over and he was rubbed and scrubbed from neck to foot, both back and front, until blood flowed. One would imagine that the miserable lad would now have been allowed to crawl in agony to some corner and be clothed; but the merciless ruffians were not yet satisfied. Bryson was ordered to wash his clothes, and thereafter to stand, still in perfect nudity, on the forecastle head, for an hour, then he was handed his semmit, and some fifteen minutes later he was allowed to put on his jacket; but he had to remain in his exposed position until nightfall. Day after day passed without mitigation of the misery of these unfortunate boys, a kick or a cuff (the usual greeting of the unfeeling mate) becoming more and more distressing by reason of intensifying cold and hunger, although no outstanding act of savagery punctuated their wretchedness until the vessel reached the ice-fields, if we except the following incident: Immediately after the boisterous weather had passed, the stowaways and several of the crew were sent down into the hold to tidy up, and it was discovered later that one or more barrels of meal, which formed part of the cargo, had been broken open and a quantity of the contents abstracted. The captain was furious, and demanded of the boys who had stolen the meal. They blamed the sailors, and certainly a considerable quantity of meal was found in the forecastle for which no one could, or would, account; but, on the other hand, the sailors accused the boys, and pointed to the fact that some of them had come out of the hold with tell-tale smears of the grain about their mouths. Probably all were equally guilty (indeed, it would be surprising if the hungry boys did not pilfer the foodstuff), but the stowaways paid the penalty, being put in irons for twenty-four hours without food. It is said that they were handcuffed to each other, so that only the end boys had one free hand each. Amidst the Ice Their approach to the desolate ice region is thus described by the writer of the letter already quoted: We came across fields of ice about the 5th or 6th of May, in company with the ships Chippewa, Ardmillan, Forganhall and Myrtle. As we made land we were meeting lots of ice, and, as we made Cape Anguille it was thick with fog and sleet, and then, as it cleared up, we were close upon a lee shore, with ice close to windward. We were unable to weather the point of the ice to windward, so we had either to go amongst the ice or on to a lee shore. We went into the ice, and were drifted into St. George's Bay, on the coast of Newfoundland, on the 9th May. On Sunday, 10th, the crew went down on the ice and put stunsail booms, old hatchways, and all available stuff before the forward ports, and drew the anchor chains and mooring chains on the top to keep them fast." The ship being fairly embedded, the master and the mate left her, and went off on the ice for some purpose, and so gave the starving boys an opportunity to forage for food. Brand entered the cabin and collected all the biscuits and bits of biscuits he could lay his hands on, which amounted to about a pocketful, and, on coming out, reported his success to Bryson, who immediately slipped into the cabin to see what he could get to allay the hunger pangs. All he could find was a keg of currants, and he helped himself to a pocketful. Captain Watt and Kerr, the mate, returned just as Bryson was leaving the forbidden precincts, and Kerr caught sight of the boy coming out. The officers had evidently not observed Brand's exit from their quarters, but they suspected him, and ordered John M'Lean, the steward, to search his pockets. This was done, with no incriminating result. He had managed to dispose of the biscuits probably he had eaten them. More Brutality It was different with poor Bryson. That unfortunate boy having been taken in flagrante delicto and with the plunder on his person, the captain ordered the pocket containing the currants to be cut out and the fruit to be distributed among the other boys (that seems strange, but it is Bryson's own statement), while the mate ordered his hands to be tied. Kerr's object in thus binding him does not transpire, as immediately afterwards the boy was ordered to strip. Perfectly naked, he was thrown down to the deck, and with his face pressing the frozen planking, the mate caught up the victim's feet and held them up close to his own throat, while the captain flogged the lad heavily with a rope's end, inflicting from fifteen to twenty lashes. Referring to this incident, one of the sailors, named George Henry, stated that when the captain flogged Bryson for stealing the currants he did not give him too much just enough; but the mate followed, and he was too severe; while Lawrence Thomson, the boatswain, said: The captain was more kindly to the boys. His chief fault lay in allowing the mate to do as he did. The truth of that is apparent throughout the whole wretched business and what was the reason for it? Watt and Kerr were brothers-in-law, and it is probable that the latter, a man of coarser fibre and possibly stronger will, presumed upon the relationship, not only to influence the captain for evil, but to usurp his functions. This may, to some extent, explain the apparent contradiction between Captain Watt's general disposition (amply testified to as being amiable) and his actual behaviour on this voyage; but it certainly does not exonerate him from guilt. It is only Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

fair to add that (according to the boy Brand) before Bryson took the currants, the starving boy had stolen some bread from the forecastle, as he could get nothing to eat for which he was flogged at the time. But to return. Still stark naked, in that bitterly cold atmosphere, the boy, after being flogged, was compelled to swab the decks for about ten minutes, when he was allowed to go (in his absolutely nude state) into the forecastle. Not for long, however. Some fifteen minutes later the mate called him out, handed him his semmit and trousers, and ordered him to sit on the forecastle head for another quarter of an hour. A day or two after that, William Saltoun, the cook, was observed to throw some potato peelings over the side. The master and the mate were absent, and in an instant the famishing boys were over the rails and scooping up the refuse like hawks. That occurred in the early part of the week, and on the evening of Wednesday, 13th, or morning of Thursday, 14th May, it was discovered that a quantity of flour (more food stuff, be it observed) was taken from a barrel by the stowaways. As punishment, none of them received any food on the Thursday. It may be mentioned here that the writer of the letter, describing how the crew went down on the ice and fixed hatches and other gear under the forward port-holes, adds: The stowaways got a biscuit apiece, and were ordered to go ashore. After they were on the ice the captain ordered them up again. Apart from that letter, there is reason to believe that Captain Watt did order the boys off possibly only to give them a fright and recalled them; and it is a moot point whether this circumstance did not have an effect on both the master and the stowaway Reilly in inducing the former to repeat the order in deadly earnest, as he did; and in determining the latter, rather than bear those ills he had, to fly to others that he knew naught of. It was about this time that Barney Reilly (who, it will be remembered, was at least half-a-dozen years older than the oldest of the other stowaways) suggested to the greatly persecuted Bryson the idea of leaving the ship. The distance between the vessel and the land had been discussed by various members of the ship's company, and a considerable discrepancy existed between their estimates, which ranged from eight miles to twenty, leaving out the mate's statement to the writer of the letter referred to that it was only five and a half miles, a statement the mate must have known to be egregiously incorrect. Barney Reilly and James Bryson were both interested in this question of distance, the former for two reasons first, because he was starving, as he, although over twenty-two years of age, received no more food than was allowed to the other stowaways (excepting perhaps Currie), which, as we have seen, was insufficient even for the smallest boy; and, second, because he wished to make his way to Halifax, Nova Scotia, in order to work on the railway there, and believed that he could safely cross the ice-field which lay between him and the shore. Bryson, too, rendered desperate by hunger and ill-treatment, was not averse from leaving the vessel even at the risk of his life. The land was barely visible; indeed it was impossible with the naked eye to decide whether the grey outline on the distant horizon was land or cloud. Captain Watt took Reilly forward and offered him a telescope so that he might get a better view of the distant shore. Barney timidly declined the use of the glass, and it would appear that the captain then assured him that there were houses and people dwelling in them not so far away. Be that as it may, Reilly, immediately after his interview with the captain, imparted this information to Bryson, who declared that if there were houses and people there he would leave the vessel along with Reilly and make his way to them. The other boys shrank from the dreadful ordeal. There can be little doubt that while the stowaways were discussing this matter the captain and mate were also in conference, for Captain Watt came forward and told the boys they would have to get off, as he had not sufficient provisions to take them all to Quebec, and he directed them to the ship Myrtle which, he said, lay embedded in the ice a mile or two away, and where they would be able to get more food. The boys doubted the captain s statement, as no ship was visible, but they dared not say so, and when he bluntly told them that they would get no more meat on board his ship until they reached Quebec, the utter helplessness of their situation was driven home to them. It is noteworthy that during these proceedings the mate had stationed himself aft on the poop, and remained there until the boys had left the ship. Did he sense the criminality of what was about to take place, and manoeuvre to leave full responsibility with his superior officer and dupe? On the Ice The effect of Captain Watt's ultimatum on the younger stowaways was terrifying. Barney Reilly and James Bryson were, as we have seen, not unwilling to brave danger and risk their lives in the hope of improving their distressful condition; but even they did not realise the perilous nature of the journey before them. I did not think I would die on the ice, said Bryson, afterwards, but that I would do so on board because I could get no food," Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

But the little ones, M'Ginnes, M'Ewan, and Paul, were almost hysterical with fright, and even Brand was moved to tears. Currie was not asked to leave the ship. Poor wee Paul (or Pauley, as he was called by his acquaintances) ran into the forecastle and hid himself within a seaman's chest. The captain turned to Brand. "Are you going ashore? he asked. I'll not go until I'm put, replied Brand. I'll put you, returned the master, and he caught Brand by the shoulder and ran him forward to the rail. Where is Paul? he then demanded of Currie. He is in the forecastle, sir." While in the chest, Paul is reported to have stated afterwards to a newspaper man, I was terrified with fear, and earnestly prayed to Him that rules over all to save me from being cast adrift to die. From time to time I peeped out. Once I heard footsteps, and thought it was one of the sailors. I lifted the lid, and was going to ask him for mercy's sake to conceal me, as I was afraid of death on the ice. When I looked out I found it was the boy Currie, who was crying sore." Captain Watt entered the forecastle and brought Paul out. Crying bitterly, the boy ran to the mate imploring him to let him remain on board; but the mate said he had nothing to do with putting him on the ice. M'Ewan, too, a delicate boy, who had been spitting up blood during the passage out, tearfully appealed to the master not to send him away. You may as well die on the ice as on the ship, was the brutal reply. The crew were standing around and saw all these piteous proceedings, and they all thought it was too dangerous to put the boys off, yet not a man of that ship's company of twenty-four stepped in to prevent it. It was none of their business, they said; it was not for them to interfere with the master. No wonder they were held in contempt by other seamen. I heard one old salt declare: They should have been hung! Their only intervention on behalf of the stowaways (whom one is now almost compelled to regard as persons condemned) was to ask the mate whether he could not give them anything to eat, and the result was (according to Bryson) that they were given some coffee and a small piece of bread; but as they had been deprived of food during the whole of the preceding day, their hunger was far from satisfied. Barney Reilly was the first to get over the bulwark and down on to the ice; Bryson and the other boys followed, M'Ewan, M'Ginnes and Paul crying most dreadfully. Paul appears to have been the last to go, and, terrified to leave even the misery of life on that ship, the poor little fellow clung desperately to the rail until the captain struck him on the shoulder with a belaying pin, when he loosened his grip and fell on the ice. Brand said he heard Paul cry, Oh! My finger; but possibly the word used was shoulder." All six boys were now on the ice how were they equipped for the fearful journey to land? Bryson tells us that he had a topcoat, a vest, a pair of canvas trousers, a cravat and shoes; that Brand, Reilly, and M'Ewan were well clothed ; but that while Paul had a blue coat, he was barefooted, and poor little M'Ginnes was not only barefooted but literally in rags, his skin showing through the rents in his garments. But, of course, none of them was sufficiently clothed or provisioned for the awful venture. (While on the 'Arran each boy had received sufficient canvas to make a pair of trousers, but as none of the men would make them excepting a pair for Bryson the material was returned). Still suffering from the want of food, the boys implored the master and mate to let them have some with them, and Kerr threw over a biscuit for each boy. And so the poor stowaways departed. Excepting the ship, there was nothing but ice, ice, ice all around them, with a grey sky overhead through which the sun's rays filtered fitfully. It was shortly after eight o'clock in the morning when the boys set out, and they proceeded in the direction (astern of the 'Arran') in which, the captain told them, the ship Myrtle lay. After travelling about 200 yards thitherward they were still unable to see the Myrtle or anything to suggest the presence of a ship, and realising that they were getting farther and farther from the nearest point of land, they, doubting the truth of the captain's statement (which, however, was quite correct) altered their course and made direct for the shore. For an hour or two they plodded on in Indian file over the rough, jagged ice, skirting the hummocks which lay in their way, and although their progress was not at this stage dangerous, it was toilsome for all of them, and particularly painful for the two little fellows with bare feet. Then, as they advanced, they came upon gaps in the ice, and each had to shift for himself. It was unavoidable that they should either leap from one ice-block to another, or, if the distance was too great, use a piece of floating ice as a raft and paddle across. During these movements, all of the boys at one time or another fell into the water, and got out again as best they could. Meantime, what of those on board the 'Arran? O'er all there hung a shadow and a fear. The captain was obviously uneasy as to the fate of the stowaways. He not only placed a look-out to get tidings of the boys, but personally went to the mast-head for that purpose. He is reported to have said to the mate that it might be well to send some of the men after the boys to bring them back, and his amiable brother-in-law's reply was, Oh, they'll be back here by dinner-time. No boys appeared, however, and, the ice about the ship breaking up on the following day, the Arran continued her voyage and arrived at Quebec, where information of the most serious importance awaited them. Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

Wee M'Ewan First to Die Let us return to the poor stragglers in their fight for life for such it was. The strain was telling on the younger ones. Apart from their repeated total immersions, they were sometimes up to the neck in water. M'Ewan, lagging behind the others, fell into the water, but, fortunately Bryson was able to assist him in getting out; on another such occasion he managed to get out himself. But he was weakening. About midday he stumbled in a third time and never came up. The ice closed over him. I (Bryson said) saw this. It was hopeless to save him. He was about three yards behind me. I looked for a few seconds to see whether he would come up, and then went on without looking back, as the others were a good way ahead of me. M'Ewan's mother he was the son of a widow had sent him from Glasgow to Greenock on an errand: and this was the end of it. The words italicised indicate only too clearly the state of Bryson's mind the dreadful uncertainty as to his own chance of life. He hurried after his companions, and told them that M'Ewan had been drowned; but there was no time for grief. The Last of M'Ginnes The sun had passed the meridian and the land was still far distant. Painfully the boys struggled on. About three o'clock in the afternoon, M'Ginnes, whose bare feet were much swollen, complained of fatigue. At last he staggered and fell on the ice, sobbing, Mother, mother, oh, mother! Whit's the maitter? asked his companions, as they raised him to a sitting posture. I canna go ony faurer, the poor child sobbed. Come on, try; ye'll freeze and dee if ye stey there." I canna, I canna. Come on, if ye get up anwalk it'll makye warm. We canna wait on ye. Oh, don't leave me! cried the worn-out wee soul; don't leave me here." But, alas! There was nothing else to be done. All the boys were more or less exhausted, and to carry M'Ginnes with any reasonable hope of salvation either for him or themselves was out of the question. They had to leave the lad. And, as they did so, his imploring lamentations followed them through the keen, cold air. His cries were the last we heard of him, said a survivor; he was greetin' Need I ask my reader to picture the plight of that boy? Eleven years of age, barefooted, in rags, and frozen; thousands of miles away from home and the mother he vainly called for; alone, utterly alone, in a desert of ice; merely a tiny speck in a great white desolation; his ineffable weariness only varied by pain. Poor wee fellow. He was seen no more. The Rescue As the survivors approached the land the journey became more and more irksome and dangerous owing to broken ice, and the greatest care had to be exercised in passing from one piece to another. The only way they could get along where a break occurred was by paddling across. Eventually, about seven o'clock in the evening, they reached the edge of the ice field, only to find that an intervening space of water about a mile broad lay between them and safety. They could see houses on a hillside; but how were they to reach them? Reilly offered to swim across, but Brand, no doubt taking into account the distance and the temperature of the water, dissuaded him, and volunteered to paddle himself ashore on a block of ice by means of wood taken from the ship. This he proceeded to do, and Reilly attempted a similar enterprise on another piece of ice. In the meantime the remaining boys, Bryson and Paul, shouted with all their might in the hope of attracting attention; but without success. In their weakened condition (although Bryson said he was not so much tired as hungry) their cries were little likely to be heard a mile away. However, when Brand had got about halfway to the shore the figure of a woman appeared on the hillside. The boys redoubled their efforts, and yelled in concert. Whether the woman heard them or not, I cannot say, but looking out over the water she observed the lads, and, to their intense relief, signalled that she would obtain immediate assistance. She sped towards the houses, and, shortly afterwards, five men manned a boat and set out in the direction of the now almost exhausted boys. Brand, of course, was reached first, then Reilly, and afterwards they proceeded towards the edge of the ice where Bryson and Paul, each on a separate block of floating ice, awaited them. It was now eight o'clock, and in the increasing gloom the boys lost sight of each other. But the gallant fishermen gathered them in. Poor wee Pauley, a mere child, who had been barefooted from the hour he left the Greenock quay, was in a state of collapse. Brand had given him a pair of socks, which, being too large, he was compelled to cast aside. His feet were bleeding and greatly swollen, and, being quite unable to walk from the beach to the house, one of his rescuers picked up the wee mite and led the way to warmth and nourishment. We may imagine how thankful these boys were, not only that their lives had been thus timeously preserved at the close of that dreadful day, but also for the blessings of abundant warmth, light and food; for they were weak and Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

starving, and their clothes, we are told, were frozen on them as hard as boards, each of them having fallen off the ice into the water several times. The house which received them is described as a farm-house, and the farmer appears to have combined fishing with farming. His name was M'lnnes, and he hailed from Cape Breton. While he and certain members of his household were attending to the immediate necessities of the lads so strangely thrown upon their hospitality, a rescue party proceeded to search for little M'Ginnes, and also, if possible, to find some trace of M'Ewan. The search was thorough, but, unfortunately, without result. No trace of either boy was ever found. The survivors were all more or less frost-bitten, and, to their dismay, found themselves sightless on the morning after the rescue. This was due to the reflection of the sun from the white ice fields, and nearly a week elapsed before they were able to see properly. Barney Reilly went off, as soon as he could, to Halifax, N.S., where, it is understood, he obtained employment and settled down. Brand, Bryson, and Paul, when they had recovered their sight, travelled to a place called Sandy Point, on the opposite side of St. George's Bay, where they were employed at fishing and farming, until, about four months later, a schooner despatched by the authorities, arrived to carry them to St. John's, N.F., whence they were to return home. The boys were loth to leave their good friends of St. George's Bay, who had, from first to last, treated them with the utmost kindness and consideration; and, it may be said here, similar sympathetic treatment was received on all hands during their stay at St. John's. When the 'Arran reached Quebec, the crew learned, in a general way, from the crew of the Myrtle, that while four of the stowaways had succeeded in reaching land, two of them had succumbed; and, prior to that, there had been despatched the letter to which I referred at the beginning of this narrative as having caused so much apprehension and indignation in the town of Greenock. The Return of the 'Arran' The excitement of the townsfolk became intensified when, on Thursday, 30th July, it was reported that the 'Arran was coming up the Clyde, and in the evening a large and hostile gathering of both sexes awaited the arrival of the ship at the Albert Harbour. Conjectures as to Captain Watt and the mate, James Kerr, having landed at Gourock or the Cloch proved to be groundless, and their recognition by the crowd was instantly succeeded by a tremendous outburst of yells, hisses, and other unequivocal tokens of execration. As soon as the vessel was moored, several men sprang on board with the avowed intention of attacking the captain and the mate, but those officers found refuge in the cabin. In the meantime, Captain Millar, harbourmaster, had informed police headquarters of what was taking place, and a posse of constables, under command of Lieut. Burrell, arrived, who kept the people in check, and finally, about 11 o'clock, managed quietly to disperse them. Captain and mate arrested The police remained on guard until the afternoon of the next day, when both Captain Watt and the mate were taken from the ship and, escorted by policemen, conveyed in a cab to the Sheriff Court House in Bank Street for examination by the Sheriff. All along the route the cab was followed by a large mob, hooting, yelling, and pelting the vehicle with stones. The captain and the mate were, after a preliminary examination, committed to prison pending further inquiry, the charge against them being that of assault and of cruelly and maliciously compelling one or more of Her Majesty's lieges to leave a ship while said ship was embedded in ice at a considerable distance from land to the imminent risk and serious and permanent injury of their persons." It will be observed that at this stage there is no reference to loss of life in the charge against the prisoners, the authorities, as is usual in such cases, formulating merely such a charge as would justify the detention of the accused persons. Although nearly three months had elapsed since the boys had left the ship, no tidings as to their subsequent fate had reached Greenock, and the worst fears prevailed as to their safety. Quebecers, however, were coming in almost daily, and it was hoped that such news as might qualify the serious aspect of the case would shortly be received. Mr. Blair, county procurator-fiscal, wired to the chief of police at St. John's, N.F., who replied that four of the boys (whose names were not mentioned) were still at St. George's Bay, twenty miles from where they had left the ship, and about three weeks later Mr. Blair learned from the same source that the boys M'Ewan and M'Ginnes had lost their lives, the former being drowned and the latter dying of exhaustion. Meanwhile an application for bail by Mr. William Lewis, writer, on behalf of Captain Watt having been refused by Hon. Sheriff-Substitute Thomas King, on the ground that the result of the cruelty alleged was not yet known, an appeal was made to the Crown officials at Edinburgh, who also refused liberation. Then Messrs. Lewis and Fyfe, Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

for the master, and Mr. Alexander Blair, writer, for Kerr, the mate, ran their letters, as the phrase is, which had the effect of bringing the date of trial within the next sixty days. As the result of the preliminary investigations, both the accused men were committed for trial on a charge of murder, but when the indictments were served on the prisoners on the 20th October, it was seen that the capital charge had been departed from, and that four other counts had been substituted, the most serious of which amounted practically to culpable homicide. Captain Watt and Chief Officer Kerr were removed to Edinburgh early in November, and on the 9th of that month they pleaded not guilty to three counts of the indictment against them, one of the counts having, after discussion, being withdrawn as irrelevant. The accused men were detained in jail to await their trial. The Return of the Survivors. In addition to the information elicited by Procurator-Fiscal Blair regarding the stowaways, one of them wrote home to his parents reporting their rescue by Mr. M'lnnes, of Cape Breton, and stating that they were being very kindly treated. That was reassuring; but it was felt the sooner the boys were home the better. In any case, it was essential that they should be present to give evidence at the forthcoming trial. The Procurator-Fiscal had asked the authorities at St. John's to have the boys sent back at the first opportunity, but Provost James Johnston Grieve (who had been elected M.P. for Greenock in August, after the memorable contest with Mr. W. D. Christie) offered to give the boys a free passage home on the brigantine Hannah and Bennie, belonging to his firm of Baine & Johnston, that vessel being on the point of sailing from Newfoundland for the Clyde. The offer was gratefully accepted, and the Hannah and Bennie with the three boys Brand, Paul, and Bryson on board, left St. John's on 12th September, and arrived in Greenock on the evening of Thursday, 1st October the Autumn Fast Day when a considerable number of people gathered with full hearts to give the boys a sympathetic welcome. Mr. William Brand, a brother of David Brand (his full name was David Jolly Brand) states: I heard the captain of the Hannah and Bennie tell my father that he had very strict instructions from the owners to see that the boys were well looked after. My father had arranged with the brothers Waugh (boatmen at Princes Pier) to let him know immediately the vessel hove in sight for there was no reporting from Kildonan in those days; and when the word was brought that the Hannah and Bennie had passed up for the West Harbour my mother, in the absence of my father, hastened down to the quay. She met Bryson coming ashore, and he told her that Davie was still on board. Just then a policeman came along and said that the boys would require to go first to the police office for examination, and that they would not be kept long. It was late, however, before my brother got home, and we were nearly all in bed; but we all got up when Davie came in, and the house soon filled with neighbours and friends. There was very little sleep with us that night. We could hardly recognise our brother, he having grown so big and being dressed in sailor fashion. He used to make us laugh at the antics of Big Barney, as they called Reilly, particularly when the biscuits were served out the big fellow made a wry mouth as he got only the same allowance as the wee fellows." The trial of the captain and the mate took place within the High Court of Justiciary at Edinburgh before LordJustice Clerk Patton and a jury on Monday, 23rd November, and lasted for three days. The hardships of the stowaways had created widespread interest and sympathy, and the Court was crowded during each sederunt. A brilliant array of legal luminaries appeared for and against the prisoners. The Crown was represented by the Solicitor-General, Q.C.; Mr. Gloag, Advocate-Depute, and Mr. T.G. Murray; while Captain Watt was defended by Mr. George Young, Q.C. (afterwards Lord Young) and Mr. Charles Scott; and Kerr, the mate by Dean of Faculty Moncreiff (afterwards Lord-Justice-Clerk Moncreiff) and Mr. Robert M'Lean. It is unnecessary to detail the evidence adduced, as the facts already placed before my readers were, for the most part, gleaned from the sworn testimony of the witnesses; but it may be interesting to record that the following members of the ship's company tendered evidence for the prosecution, viz.: Robert Hunter, Alexander M'Donald, George Henry, John Hendry, jun., Angus Clark, and James Harley, seamen, and William Saltoun, cook; while John M'Lean, steward, and Lawrence Thomson, boatswain, were witnesses for the defence. Bryson, Brand, and Paul were, of course, the principal witnesses, and the last named was so small that he had to be mounted on a stool in the witness-box so that he could be seen. The object of counsel for the defence was apparently to prove that there was not sufficient food on board the 'Arran for all hands, including the stowaways, until the vessel should reach Quebec; but Mr. John Hendry, one of the owners, stated that, in his opinion, there was no danger of the bread running out, as the ship was provisioned for four months, and the cook said there was ample food for all. In his judicial declaration, emitted before the Sheriff, Captain Watt, while denying that he had been unnecessarily severe in his treatment of the boys, said: I cannot say I forced the boys to leave the ship; but, of course, I told them to go. Kerr's declaration was simply a general denial of the charges brought against him. Many people were, Inverclyde Libraries: Local History Reprints: The Stowaways on the Arran

and still are, surprised that the sailors on board did not interfere to save the boys from the cruelty of the officers, and the following replies by George Henry to the questions of a juryman are enlightening. When you heard the boys crying, and knowing the journey to be dangerous, did you not think of interfering?" I had no right to interfere with my master and mate." If the captain had been going to murder one of the boys, would you not have interfered then?" Oh, but this was not murder." But it was very dangerous?" Yes; but there was a chance for them. Some of them got over it." Did you expect any of them to come back to the ship? persisted the juryman. I had no hope of them coming back, declared Henry. Did you think they would have been drowned? It was very uncertain to think anything. During the course of the trial the Dean of Faculty asked that Kerr should be allowed to tender another plea, and, permission being granted, he pled guilty to the charge of assault merely. This was accepted by the SolicitorGeneral, and sentence was deferred until the conclusion of the captain's trial. Many gentlemen of good position ship owners, shipmasters, and others from Saltcoats (to which Captain Watt belonged), Glasgow, Greenock, and elsewhere, spoke to the previous good character of both prisoners. After the usual addresses and summing-up, the jury, while exonerating Watt from the charge of assault, found him guilty of culpable homicide, with a recommendation to the leniency of the Court on account of his previous good character, the verdict being unanimous. Lord Justice Clerk Patton then sentenced Captain Watt to be imprisoned for eighteen months, and James Kerr, the mate, for four months, sentences which were received with groans and hisses by the indignant audience. Commenting on these sentences, the editor of the Greenock Telegraph wrote: The punishment in each case appears very light, and those in Court who had listened to the evidence heard the sentence in astonishment and greeted its delivery with hisses. Of course, the recommendation of the jury and the good character given both prisoners tended to mitigate the judgment, and it should also be borne in mind that the conduct of the accused, rough and unjustifiable as it was, did not proceed from any intention to bring about the fatal termination on which lay the main force of the whole case." What became of the Survivors Reilly, we know, went to Halifax, N.S.; Bryson emigrated with his father and family to America, where James obtained employment as a street car conductor; Peter Currie died of consumption about two years after he came home; John Paul became a foreman riveter and removed to Itchen, Southampton, where he died some years ago ; and David Jolly Brand proceeded to Townsville, North Queensland, where he founded the flourishing engineering firm of Brand, Dryborough & Burns, and died suddenly and unexpectedly in the month of November, 1897. Concerning him, the North Queensland Herald said: North Queensland can ill afford to lose men of D. J. Brand's type men who seem to be specially fitted for the work of developing a newly-settled country. Energetic, foresighted, and shrewd in business and public affairs, Mr. Brand was true as steel, large-hearted, and affable in private life." Soon after leaving prison, both Watt and Kerr quickly got to sea again as master and mate respectively in different vessels, of course. The former is said to have died at Pensacola, a year or two after his release; but Kerr sailed for many years as a shipmaster before retiring to rest ashore. He died over twenty years ago.

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