The Ghost of the Gatherer: A Captain’s Suicide Haunted by His Own Cruelty

The American ship Gatherer arrived yesterday from San Francisco with a return cargo of coal. This time was declared by a seaman who occupied the position of waterman several seasons since to be haunted by the revengeful spirits of sailors.

Of course, this idea of ghosts on shipboard is a mere balloting gee of a belief that had perhaps been buddled by over indulgence in intoxicating beverages. But if ever a vessel deserved to be haunted by the vengeful spirits of mangled and murdered seamen, the ship Gatherer should be the one.

In telling why this should be, the reader will be taken back to the year of our Lord 1861 when the Gatherer left New York with Capt. Sparks, First Mate Watts, and Second Mate Curtis and a mixed crew of foreigners aboard.

The route was a memorable one, and the cruelties of the infamous Nero are nothing in comparison to those inflicted on the Gatherer during the voyage. The vessel was a strange beast from beginning to end. During the voyage three of the crew jumped overboard to escape from the demoniac persecutions of the sailor. The remainder of the crew of about 40 were all more or less maimed when the vessel put into Wilmington, Cal., to discharge a portion of her cargo. Some had lost eyes, others had broken arms and had portions of their ears cut off, and a few had been lamed limbs. Several of the crew had blows struck so much on the head that they were but little better than so many idiots when they arrived in port.

Had the crew been in bondage under the torture of a lection or maniacal devils they could not have fallen in a much worse condition in all respects of cruelty committed at sea. Among the officers, there are none which exceeded in sustained horror the recitals of some poor mutilated sailors who came up from the Horn on the ship Gatherer in 1861.

At Wilmington the crew deserted and hurried to San Francisco, when they laid their cases before the United States authorities. When the vessel arrived in San Francisco Captain Sparks and Second Mate Curtis were arrested, but First Mate Watts had escaped and shipped on board a vessel bound for Liverpool, hoping to avoid the wrath to come.

Captain Sparks was tried, but through the expenditure of a large sum of money he was acquitted. His trial lasted for seven weeks and Attorney Murphy, who was associated counsel for defense, occupied some 15 days time in the closing argument. It seemed that Capt. Sparks had not shamed the men himself, but he had stood idly by and allowed his officers to do so. Second Mate Curtis was convicted and went to the penitentiary, and died there before he had served out his term.

It is alleged that First Mate Watts was killed a year or two since by a crew in the Indian Ocean where he tried to repeat the acts he had practiced on the sailors of the Gatherer. The crew that killed him knew of record, and to be forewarned in their case was to be forearmed.

Some four or five years since Captain Sparks was off the mouth of the Columbia in command of a vessel. He was the victim of remorse and the memory of the poor maimed wretches who sprang from the railing of the Gatherer to meet death in the cold waters of the ocean must have been ever with him. The man at the wheel suddenly saw the captain emerge screaming from the cabin. Then he ran to the side of the vessel and jumped into the ocean, just as the sailors had done a few years before. He sank to rise no more.

"Vengeance is mine; I will repay," seems to have been fully carried out in the case of Captain Sparks. Though he escaped from the clutches of the law he could not get away from the memory of the awful scenes which were enacted on the Gatherer in the year 1861. To escape from these horrid recollections he jumped into the ocean, preferring death to their continuation.

In a talk had yesterday with Captain Michael Olsen, the present master of the Gatherer, he rather excused Captain Sparks and his officers. The crew on the Gatherer at that time was made up of several nationalities, and there was only one or two able seamen in the lot. When it was blowing hard and the vessel was in danger it was necessary to use violence to make the sailors work with sufficient speed to save the ship. Captain Olsen was inclined, however, to say how the officers of the Gatherer were too cruel.

"How is it," said he, "that men can be handled on shore without violence or brutality? If this can be done on shore why not at sea?"

"There are several reasons," replied the captain. "The main one is that at sea we depend entirely on ourselves. The safety of the vessel and lives on board often depends on instant obedience. If this is not given by a sailor or the sailors, force is essential to compel it.

"Another serious phase of sea life is that both captain and sailors become morose after being cooped up together for several months. A captain in order to preserve discipline cannot afford to be too familiar with his men. He goes on deck and sees the same sea, the same sky, the same deck, with the same sails and the same faces. He returns to his cabin, and all he can do is to look at his own face in the glass. This makes him savage and morose, and as the men meet him with a like savagery unaccountable cruelties are practiced. This is more frequently the case when an officer is naturally of a cruel and revengeful disposition. To this cause attribute most of the cruelties which are perpetrated at sea."