The Captain Who Slipped the Marshal
A crew-hiring dispute lands a ship's master in irons in Port Townsend—until a death and a distracted guard give him a clear path to the sea.
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.
Port Townsend, Jan. 6.—Special.—Capt. Graham was arrested last night by Deputy Marshal Baker on a complaint sworn out by Max Levy. Graham had verbally contracted with Bartlett Steele, of Seattle, for a crew, and Steele sublet the contract to Levy. A few days ago the captain telegraphed Mr. Bartlett that 'through unforeseen circumstances he was compelled to take a crew in Tacoma, but that he was willing to reimburse him for any expense or trouble that he might have been put to.' Levy went to Tacoma and put in a bill for $79, which Capt. Graham refused to pay. The ship came down here yesterday and was proceeding to sea when Levy decided to libel her. On account of the necessity and delay of going to Seattle for the necessary papers to delay the vessel's departure, he filed a complaint with United States Commissioner Swan, alleging the above facts, whereupon a warrant was issued to Marshal Baker, who intercepted the ship just as she was leaving the harbor and brought the skipper ashore under arrest. After consultation with a friendly tugboat captain he learned for the first time that his arrest was illegal and unwarranted, and his chagrin when he realized how completely he had been 'bluffed' can more easily be imagined than described. At this juncture a messenger came up and hurriedly informed Marshal Baker that his wife was dying.
'I'll turn this man over to your custody, captain,' said Baker to the tugboat skipper.
'No, you won't. I'll not take charge of him,' was the emphatic answer.
'You'll have to,' yelled back the marshal, as he rushed away to the bedside of his wife, whom he found cold in death, she having died half an hour before his arrival.
'I'll do nothing of the sort,' was the reply, but Baker heard him not.
Capt. Graham went up to a tugboat office and meditated.
'You'll stay here until I return?' said the tugboat captain.
'Certainly.'
'You will not run away?'
'No.'
The tugboat captain was then called away for a few moments, and when he returned the bird had flown. A vigorous search was instituted without success. Then it was ascertained that Graham had slipped out of the back door, gone down to the beach and hired a couple of boatmen to put him aboard a small tug going down the straits. At midnight he overhauled his vessel near Port Angeles, went aboard and sailed out upon the ocean, a fugitive from justice, bound for Liverpool.
“At midnight he overhauled his vessel near Port Angeles, went aboard and sailed out upon the ocean, a fugitive from justice, bound for Liverpool.”
Contract disputes and jurisdictional wrangles still play out on the waterfront, but today a captain’s flight from a warrant would trigger a Coast Guard alert rather than a tugboat chase. The story also captures the era’s rough-and-tumble justice, where a marshal’s personal tragedy could accidentally free a prisoner.
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