There is now being exhibited along the Atlantic coast the oldest and strangest craft afloat in the world to-day. This is the old British convict ship “Success,” now the only survivor of the “Ocean Hells,” as the ships of England’s fleet of felon transports were called in the first half of the last century. Built in 1790, at Moulmain, by the old pagoda “looking eastwards to the sea,” the “Success” is now 123 years old. No ship of anything like her great age to-day is seaworthy, yet this old hulk under her own sail has succeeded in crossing the Atlantic, her time of 96 days, however, creating no new record. Massively built throughout of solid Burman teak, the “Success” was first launched as an armed East India merchantsman with beautiful brass guns bristling from her sides and fitted handsomely for the reception of princes, nabobs and the wealthy traders of the Orient, whose goods, spices, aromatic teas, ivories, jewels and other costly luxuries she carried over the seven seas to the ends of the earth. Her tonnage is 589, and she is 135 feet long and 29 feet beam. Her solid sides are 2 feet 6 inches thick at the bilge, and her keelson is a solid teak baulk of tremendous thickness, with sister keelsons little less massive. Her square cut stern and quarter galleries stamp her at once with the hall-mark of antiquity, and her bluff bow shows that she could never have distinguished herself for a high rate of speed. Yet pains were taken to make her trim and smart, and fit to hold a leading place among her sister ships of the Anglo-Indian fleet. Remnants of great gilded scrolls upon a rich blue ground have been brought to light, on scratching away the super-imposed coating. The quarter galleries, too, were originally decorated with massive and artistic carvings. Escutcheons can easily be traced at regular intervals from stem to stern, and the fo’c’sle head, raised high aloft forward, bears at its extremity a symbol of innocence and beautiful womanhood in the original figurehead of exquisite design—a strangely inappropriate emblem in the days when crime-stained convicts in clanking chains put to flight all thoughts of innocence and beauty. Broken only by an occasional conflict with a pirate craft, the “Success” had an honored life on the ocean until 1802, when she was first chartered by the British Government to transport to Australia the overflow of the home jails, the unfortunate wretches who at that time were sentenced to from seven years to the term of natural life for offenses that would now be considered trivial and petty, warranting at most but a small fine. Some of the greatest writers of the 19th century devoted their pens to horror-compelling descriptions of the voyages of the felon-fleet, of which the “Success” was in her day the commodore The human cargoes on these convict ships died off like rotten sheep. Here is an extract from an official record of the maiden trip of the “Success” as a convict ship. Dr. White, the colonial surgeon, reported:—
In a further portion of his report, describing his first boarding of the “Success,” Dr. White said that he found dead bodies still in irons—nearly all convicts made the full voyage, often lasting nine months, heavily ironed—below amongst the crowds of the living. Here is his own words:—
Engaged in this hideous trade, the “Success” continued to serve until 1851, in which year she was permanently stationed as a receiving prison in Hobson’s Bay, Australia. Cells, strong and gloomy, were constructed on the ’tween and lower decks, and in these the most desperate criminals that England and Australia could produce were “accommodated.” The lower deck was devoted to the very worst type of convicts, and only prisoners of the better class confined in the ’tween deck cells. “Refractory” prisoners were immured throughout the long days and nights in the noisome dungeons in the dark depths of the lower hold, and were never allowed on shore on any pretext. Their only exercise and opportunity of enjoying a breath of fresh air was restricted to one hour in every twenty-four, when they were marched from stem to stern upon deck. The exceptionally high bulkwarks prevented them seeing aught but the strip of blue Australia sky directly overhead; the white-winged gulls, as they glided over the vessel, seemed to mock the prisoners in their heavy chains. From long confinement in the dark cells the eyesight of the convicts was generally ruined. The corner cells on either side of the lower deck are the dreaded “Black Holes,” in which prisoners who had been guilty of some breach of discipline or fractious conduct were punished by solitary confinement lasting from one to one hundred days. These small and tapering torture-chambers measure only two feet eight inches across. The doors fit as tight as valves and close with a “swish,” excluding all air except what can filter through the perforated iron plate that was placed over the bars above the door, in order to make the hole as dark and oppressive as possible. A stout iron ring is fastened knee high in the shelving back of the cell, and through this ring the right wrist of the prisoner was passed, and then handcuffed to the left hand; the consequence was that he was thus prevented from standing upright or lying down, but was obliged to stoop or lean against the shelving side of the vessel as it rolled to and fro on the restless waters of the bay. Starved, beaten and abused as they were, the wonder is that so many of even the prisoners were able to endure punishment as they did. In 1857 the disclosures that had been made of the brutal and inhuman treatment meted out to prisoners created a fierce outcry in Australia, amounting almost to revolt against the English Government, and resulted in the abandonment of the hulk system. For some years In 1912 she attempted what was perhaps the greatest feat in all her remarkable career—that was, to make the passage across the Atlantic under her own sail, unaccompanied by tug or steamer. The shipping world was aghast when the voyage was projected. “Impossible,” said every man that ever sailed the seas in ships, “that this century and a quarter old hulk could brave the spring hurricanes of the western Ocean!” Lloyds refused her insurance, the British Government refused her clearance and sea-captain after sea-captain refused her command, but finally a stout old skipper, Captain John Scott, and a gallant crew of adventurous souls under the command of Captain D. H. Smith, the owner, hoisted sail and took her out of Glasson Dock on the very day that the ill-fated “Titanic” sailed from the port of Southhampton. For 96 days she battled bravely, her staunch old hull defying the crashing gales and mountainous seas and at length made port in Boston Harbor with a crew, worn out and half starved but bravely triumphant, to the applause of press and public, who likened the splendid feat to the epoch-making voyage of Christopher Columbus. Since then the “Success” has exhibited in Boston, Providence, New York, Asbury Park, Philadelphia and is now being shown in southern seaports. |