The Tyrant of the High Seas: A Sailor’s Knife vs. a Mate’s Revolver
In a dramatic trial before U.S. Commissioner D.S. Smith, witnesses describe how the first mate of the brig *Sampson* beat a sailor into paralysis with an iron bar and revolver, sparking outrage over maritime abuse.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
We listened for some time, on Sunday last, to the testimony, before D. S. Smith, United States Commissioner, in the case of the United States against the wound man brig ship Sampson, for assault with a deadly weapon upon the high seas.
The facts were all concurred in by the witnesses and admitted by the prisoner. A few days out from Callao, the first mate approached a sailor engaged in 'reeving' a ratlin and asked him in a violent manner if he called that a ratlin. The sailor replied that he thought it would hold, though he was not made of a sail-or. What did you ship for then, you d—d loafer exclaimed the mate: The sailor said he shipped for work, and he had not loafed on the ship. The mate then struck him in the face and kicked at his abdomen; when the sailor drew his sheath-knife and told him he would cut him if he kicked him again.
The mate then seized an iron bar and approached the sailor, but fearing the knife, he made off. He returned with a revolver and shot the man in the meantime he had lain down and taken to his heels; and in a moment came up and stabbed him in the maw. The mate coming up while the man was down, struck him on the head with the revolver, inflicting a severe wound. The Captain witnessed the affray without interfering.
The sailor was disabled for the balance of the voyage and not expected to recover. On arriving at Port Blakely last week he was just able to walk with one side paralyzed and still suffering from the wound in the head. Warrants were issued for the arrest of both the mates, but the first mate escaped and has not yet been caught.
The first mate, who commenced the fracas, was represented by all the witnesses as a morose tyrant, who never smiled, and punished the sailors for laughing. Such officers always make bad crews, while good masters almost invariably make good men of their sailors. It is due to the man under arrest to say that this was the only difficulty he had with the men during the voyage; that he was not present when the fracas commenced, and that he rushed into the melee under the impression that the sailor had attacked the first mate with a knife.
This 1872 account of maritime violence highlights the brutal power dynamics aboard 19th-century vessels, where captains and mates held near-absolute authority over crew members. While modern labor laws and international treaties have largely eliminated such unchecked physical abuse at sea, the story resonates with contemporary discussions about workplace safety, the hierarchy of command, and the vulnerability of workers in isolated environments.
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