CHAPTER VI.

_FOOTSTEPS AMONG SEAMEN--Continued._

No one interested in seamen can fail to extend his interest to their orphans. Sailors’ lives are exposed to exceptional risks. Of our 200,000 British seamen, it is found that on the average, besides those whose deaths occur at home, more than 4000 annually die abroad, and of these, much more than a half perish by drowning. The returns from the Board of Trade show that in the sixteen years following the establishment of the Liverpool Seamen’s Orphanage, no less than 66,667 sailors died in English ships abroad, of whom 40,551 were drowned. In what condition are their families left? We give the answer in the words of Canon Drummond Anderson, chaplain of the Liverpool Seamen’s Orphanage, than whom few persons, if any, have more frequent contact with the families of sailors whose lives have been lost at sea. “His experience with regard to common sailors was, that whenever poor Jack died, his family were left destitute. If there were any who were better off, or had anything to the fore for a dark and cloudy day, they did not come in his way. The cases with which he had to deal were those in which the loss of poor Jack was the loss of all the support of his family.”[F]

Allowing for the circumstance that the chaplain’s duties call for his presence at the most distressful cases, his avowal reveals a state of things among British common sailors, which should never have existed, and which surely will not be permitted to continue. That expression, “if there were any who were better off,” opens up a field for melancholy reflection. That a large section of our fellow-citizens, subject to painful exposure, and incurring serious peril in their daily calling--men to whom all classes of the community are indebted every day of life--men on whose labours the fortunes of the shipowning and mercantile classes are built--that such men should make no provision for the future, should live literally from hand to mouth, and, when life is cut short, should, as a rule, leave their widows and children destitute, is a thought to touch and trouble the dullest heart. This state of matters cannot exist without something being wrong in the system in which our sailor-citizens have to take their part, something which our seaport communities would do well to search out, something for which the Church of Christ is not without grave responsibility. To diminish a little the desolation, and to soften a little the sorrow of the shipwrecked sailors’ home, is but a small part of our duty. Destitution is not the uniform accompaniment of the bread-winner’s death among toilers on the shore, why should it be so among toilers on the sea? This problem awaits solution. It demands the thought and effort of all good citizens. Who will arise and lead the way? A compulsory system of life-assurance has been suggested, and might be of material value, but the whole condition of our seafaring population needs to be raised, and far more than hitherto leavened with Christian influence. Much valuable work is now done through special missions for seamen, but if the inquiry were made how many of them are members of any of our churches, a most disappointing answer would be the result.

In the meantime an imperative duty is incumbent upon us. The children who, by a single sweep of the hungry sea, are deprived at once of father and of food, must be cared for. They are England’s orphans, and England must provide for them. One case out of hundreds which have come before the chaplain may be cited. He says: “I was sitting in my study reading one morning, when a visitor was shown in. It was a poor young woman with two little infants, twins, in her arms: she sat down in a chair and began to cry; and oh, how she cried! It was a sorrowful sight to see the pale wan face wet with tears. She had been decently brought up, and married a sailor who had gone on a long voyage. The children were born, and were maintained principally by his monthly money. ‘Yesterday,’ she said, ‘I went down to the office, and was told there would be no money for me any more, for the news had just come that the ship was lost with all hands.’ The widow and her children were at once assisted.”

Perhaps we may best convey an idea of the kind of cases admitted to the Orphanage if we transcribe from the register of children in the institution those occurring in the girls’ department under one letter, viz., W, taken almost at random.

_West, Emily._--Father was engineer on board the _Laconia_, and died from pressure on the brain. Seven children dependent on the widow, who has since (with the infant,) died in childbirth.

_Williams, Mary._--Father was chief mate on board the _Zephyr_, and died at sea of fever. Five children dependent on the widow.

_Williams, Mary Ellen._--Father was a fireman on board the steam-tug _Tartar_, and was drowned. Six children dependent on the widow.

_Wooley, Ellen._--Father was steward on board the _Palm_, and died of fever on the coast of Africa. Three children dependent on the widow.

_Wylie, Jane._--Father was chief engineer on board the S.S. _Virago_, and died at sea of apoplexy. Five children dependent on the widow.

In the case of those who are acquainted with the homes of the poor, imagination will have no hard task in picturing the desolation and dismay which fill such households as those above referred to. A family is living in quietness and modest comfort, when suddenly the brief dark message comes, “Lost at sea.” The light of the house has gone out, the bread-winner wins bread no more, and the wan widow and her cheerless children have, unprovided and unprepared, to face the cold world alone, and to fight their way through, as best they may.

Mr. Balfour was one of those who could not contemplate scenes like these without his whole nature being moved. The thought of alleviating sorrow so deep, and of making such provision as the sad circumstances would permit, for the mourning and the destitute, laid firm hold upon his head and heart. To provide for the sailor’s orphans, and to do it on a scale worthy of the great port of Liverpool, was his consuming desire. He was all aglow with this benevolent purpose when first it took tangible form. It was inspiring to meet him and to hear his fervent words. No business aim, no prospect of advantage for himself, ever took possession of him as this object did. He felt, and spoke as if his friends _must_ sympathise with the seamen’s orphans, and be ready to fling themselves into the scheme with an enthusiasm like his own. It was almost impossible to escape the contagion of compassion like his. Embers of mercy, in some about him, were fanned into a flame. He loved to keep in the background, if only instruments were found and the work was done. Those most intimately acquainted with the history of the Orphanage know best, to how large an extent its inception and success were due to his burning zeal and unflagging perseverance.

He had the joy of seeing men raised up able and willing to carry through this noble enterprise, men like Mr. Ralph Brocklebank, the president, whose mind and purse were at the service of the institution, and Mr. James Beazley, the honorary treasurer and chairman of the executive committee, who flung himself with all the energy of his warm heart into the scheme, not to mention a host of fellow-workers.

At an early stage the project was well-nigh extinguished. “I remember,” says his partner, “the anxiety and trouble on his countenance when he told me that, by the narrowest chance, the idea was not rejected by the meeting. It was pointed out by some, that the town abounded with benevolent institutions; feelings were expressed that another for the orphans of seamen could not be maintained. It was with difficulty he got the meeting adjourned, without there and then coming to an adverse decision. He carefully prepared himself, with the aid of Mr. Hanmer of the Sailors’ Home and others, for the adjourned meeting; and I remember with what joyous and triumphant tones he told me that in the end, it had been resolved to go on with the enterprise.”

When the stately building, which was to be the home of the fatherless, was approaching completion, Mr. Balfour claimed the privilege of placing a tablet over the porch, bearing the inscription which so strikingly tells the story of the Orphanage, “In Thee the fatherless findeth mercy.”

When it was completed and tenanted, Mr. Balfour would often spend the night at the home of the present writer, not distant from the institution, and would be off about seven in the morning to refresh himself, before breakfast, with a sight of the healthy and happy faces of the children, to speak to them a word of counsel, and to leave behind him fresh encouragement with chaplain, matron, and all who cared for the orphans. On such occasions he would return to the house radiant with thankfulness and joy, and prepared to start on the duties of a day, which was to be filled with words and works of thoughtful kindness.

One who had the best opportunities of knowing Mr. Balfour’s ways in the Orphanage writes to us: “When he was on the committee investigating applications for help, often and often, as the widow turned away to leave the room with her children, have I seen him slip a gold coin into her hand.” “When the ear heard me, then it blessed me, and when the eye saw me, it gave witness to me, because I delivered the poor that cried, and the fatherless, and him that had none to help him: the blessing of him that was ready to perish came upon me; and I caused the widow’s heart to sing for joy.”

Mr. Balfour was a strong advocate for supplementing the aid given within the institution by a system of relief, in the homes of deceased sailors, which are found scattered through every district of Liverpool. Thus, for example, he pleaded at one of the annual meetings: “If it were necessary, I could convince the meeting that we require, in conducting this institution successfully, to attend both to cases of outdoor and cases of indoor relief. We meet with such an instance as this: a respectable Christian widow, the mother of a family, applies to us for relief. She would prefer to train her own children herself, and does not want to give them up to us. Surely, for such a reason as strong maternal affection, a poor woman such as this ought not to be deprived of the benefits of our institution. Such is the mind of the committee, and I believe that it will be the mind of the general community.... I entreat you, on behalf of myself and colleagues of the committee, not to put us in the position of being a responsible executive, without ample funds being given us to deal adequately, by means of outdoor and indoor relief, with this refuge of the orphan and the widow. Oh, the pain! I declare it is heart-breaking to sit and hear the applications of those widows. I have pitied the chairman again and again in going through these cases, knowing all their sadness without being able adequately to relieve it.... We have only to do our duty, and I know we shall not be the poorer, but shall have the blessing of God on what we give and what we have. Oh, don’t let us stint the widow and orphan in this community, I do beseech you.” Powerful was the pleading of this earnest man, backed as it was by open-handed generosity on his own part.

One advantage, springing from this noble institution, is that it has called forth miscellaneous and widespread liberality. Scarcely an Atlantic steamer leaves or returns to Liverpool, without the claims of the Orphanage being brought before the passengers on Sunday, or on some other suitable occasion. Hearts, grateful for God’s goodness in granting a safe passage, go forth in ready sympathy with the orphans whose fathers have perished on the melancholy main. Commanders and officers of the vessels willingly give prominence to this subject. Englishmen, Americans, and foreigners from many lands respond, by casting their thank-offerings into the treasury of the institution. The pilots of Liverpool, the employés of the Mersey Docks and Harbour Board, take a willing part in the annual contribution. Thus, while rivulets of kindness from many different quarters concentrate themselves upon the Orphanage, multitudes of hearts are the better for having had tenderness stirred within them, by the tale of sorrow that comes from the drowned sailor’s child. To stimulate this floating fountain of beneficence was the earnest aim of Mr. Balfour.

The Orphanage has grown to goodly proportions. On the 1st of July 1887 there were 360 in the institution, and 372 on the outdoor list. The cost of the former for food, clothing, and education is £15 per head per annum, and of the latter, or outdoor class, £8 per head per annum. Since its first establishment 2660 children have been cared for in one or other of these ways.

At the age of fourteen the boys are sent out to fight their way in the world, some to sea, some to trades, some to offices. It is a valuable testimony to the thoroughness of their instruction and the excellence of their training, that railway companies and great employers of labour are always ready to take the Orphanage boys. The girls are retained, if their mothers desire it, till they attain the age of fifteen. The last year is devoted mainly to training in all branches of household work. So equipped, the girls become useful in their own homes, or find employment as domestic servants, &c. Results like these filled the warm and tender heart of Mr. Balfour with thankfulness and joy.

The Church of Christ, in its various branches, was all too slow in awaking to a sense of its duty to seamen, and to the conviction that special agencies were required, to meet the necessities of their case. The character and habits of our sailors not only seriously affect their own condition, but influence the most distant lands of earth to which they sail. The entrance of God’s Word in distant and in heathen lands is helped or hindered by their conduct. A number of years ago the Colonial Bishops were asked to give their opinion as to the influence of British seamen on the inhabitants of the ports they visited. They pronounced a unanimous judgment, “That the influence of British seamen was undoubtedly prejudicial to the people, and their conduct a sad obstacle to the reception of the gospel.”

The Church of Christ has been awaking to her duty, and matters are improving. Sailors, like winged seed, are wafted from England to many a distant shore. Were they, speaking generally, to carry our good report, and not our evil report, were they to be won from the side of evil to the side of truth and righteousness, who can estimate the blessed effect which would be produced in colonial lands, and in fields of missionary effort among the heathen?

For the sake of the sailor, for the sake of England, and for the sake of the world, the cry is loud to make direct and sustained efforts for the spiritual welfare of seamen. To win them to the Saviour, and at the same time to help them toward all goodness, comfort, and well-being, is what is needed. Among the societies which aim at this great result, there is one--the Mersey Mission to Seamen--with which Mr. Balfour was closely associated from its origin in 1857 till his death. For many years he acted as Honorary Secretary. He attended its committee meetings with unfailing assiduity, and by the warmth of his enthusiasm he won for it many a friend and supporter. On Sunday afternoons and week-day evenings, his visits were welcome alike to seamen and to Christian workers. At Christmas-tide, when the sailors assembled at tea or gathered round a Christmas-tree, he would give utterance to fervid heart-stirring addresses which are not forgotten.

In addition to the liberal pecuniary support given by his firm to this Society, Mr. Balfour was personally a large contributor to special branches of the work. For many years he defrayed the entire cost of a mission-room to seamen at the north end of the town. He also paid the salary of a colporteur to circulate the Scriptures among seamen.

The Society has extended its work to Birkenhead, Garston, Ellesmere Port, and Runcorn. It promotes wholesome reading for the men, carries on Temperance effort, aims at the elevation of the sailor in many ways, material and spiritual. In all of these spheres of agency Mr. Balfour took the deepest interest.

Among the many objects contemplated by this Society, there was one on which he specially set his heart. It is thus referred to by Mr. Charles J. Bushell, the chairman of committee. “The handsome and commodious Seamen’s Institute in Hanover Street may be said to owe its existence to Mr. Balfour’s munificence. For some years the committee had been vainly seeking for a site on which to erect a suitable building. When the Corporation carried out their improvements in Paradise Street and Hanover Street, which necessitated the pulling down of a number of public-houses and beer-houses, an eligible site near the Sailors’ Home was advertised for sale by public auction. Mr. Balfour, with his wonted ardour and enthusiasm, made up his mind that this site _must_ be bought. Whatever its cost, he offered to guarantee the amount, not for a moment lacking the faith that the requisite funds would be forthcoming.

“The site accordingly was purchased for £7050. The half of the site sufficing for the Institute, the other half was sold to the British Workman Public-House Company for the erection of a ‘Cocoa Room.’ Funds for the half of the site which was retained were ere long subscribed, Mr. Balfour himself contributing £500 in addition to a like sum from his firm. On this piece of land was erected a beautiful building, well adapted for the important work to be carried on therein, at a total cost of £8580. ‘He being dead yet speaketh.’ For countless years, as sailors meet for prayer, praise, and social converse, will the beneficent work commenced in his life-time fructify and increase.”

The institute was opened on the 10th December 1885, under the presidency of the Mayor,--the Bishop of Liverpool, Mr. Balfour himself and others taking part on the important occasion.

The work which was thus accomplished was one after Mr. Balfour’s own heart. There was a double blessing in it. It was the removal of a trap to catch poor “Jack” for his destruction, and the substitution of a house of shelter, of social fellowship, of prayer, to draw him upward for his deliverance. This was at one blow to destroy the works of the devil, and to replace them by works on which the Master smiles. It did one good to meet Mr. Balfour at this time, and to hear him on this topic. His thankfulness and hopefulness were unbounded. A vast gin-palace demolished and its place occupied by the twin agencies of a Seaman’s Institute and a “Cocoa Room!” It seemed to him a symbol of the dawn of better days for seamen and for his beloved Liverpool; it pointed, in his sanguine view, to the triumph of Christianity and humanity over selfishness and rapacity. On these themes, the outpourings of his grateful and rejoicing heart did not fail to refresh the spirits of the friends among whom he moved. It was easy to discern that a boon to the people was a blessing to himself.

There is in Liverpool an older Society which seeks the good of seamen. It is “The Seamen’s Friend Society,” and was established so far back as 1820. Though not so engrossingly employed in the work of this Society, Mr. Balfour was one of its committee, and was deeply interested in all its concerns. When times of difficulty occurred especially, he was ever ready both to plead and to give in its behalf. The Mersey Mission is mainly supported by the Church of England; the Seamen’s Friend Society mainly by Nonconformists. But wherever the welfare of the sailor was earnestly and faithfully promoted, Mr. Balfour’s heart, hand, and purse were open.

Among the agencies which are brought into play by the Seamen’s Friend Society is one, long actively employed, which called forth the fullest sympathy of Mr. Balfour. A library of thirty books, deposited in a strong box, is supplied, as far as possible, to every captain leaving Liverpool who desires to receive it. The effect is found to be excellent. Hours which otherwise would have been unoccupied, and therefore likely to be productive of evil, are in many cases pleasantly and usefully employed. Where the floating libraries are valued, they are sometimes exchanged by passing vessels in mid-ocean, and so fresh reading is secured. A number of libraries are every year lost at sea, often, alas! together with the poor sailors, who used to while away their leisure-time in the pleasant company of the books.

Numbers of useful magazines, like the _Leisure Hour_, _Sunday at Home_, &c., are put by considerate friends at the disposal of the committee. These are given to sailors as they embark, and often keep their minds helpfully employed, in the spare time which fine weather brings at sea. The value of such literature cannot easily be realised by dwellers in cities, where bookshops and free libraries are found. The barren ocean affords no such mental food to the unfortunate reader who has sailed on a long voyage, without a book. On one occasion a sailor called at the “South Bethel” to ask the chief agent of the Society to hear him his lesson, as he had been trying to improve himself, while at sea, in reading and committing to memory. Mr. Wilkie willingly complied, but was taken aback to find that his “lesson” consisted of the first page of the _Liverpool Mercury_, a broad sheet of advertisements, which, in the absence of all other literature, the diligent Tar had learnt by heart. The cultivation of a taste for reading, and the supply of wholesome material, are most worthy aims of the Society.

Various means and methods are employed, but the spiritual and moral elevation of the sailor is the object supremely kept in view. The room known as “The Forecastle,” which has happily been secured close to the Sailors’ Home, and therefore in the very centre of the haunts of the men, is greatly valued. There, newspapers and magazines may be read; there, letters may be written, by or for the sailors, to distant friends; and there, daily at noon, a brief and lively prayer-meeting is held, and the gospel invitation is proclaimed. Many a message of gratitude and praise has come back from the ends of the earth, for the glad tidings heard and the first step in repentance and amendment taken in “The Forecastle.” In that room Mr. Balfour’s was a familiar voice.

The agents of this Society bear witness to the improvement which is manifested around the Sailors’ Home, since a number of public-houses in the district have been improved out of existence. A former publican of that neighbourhood, speaking of one of the missionaries, said, “That man has ruined my trade, but thank God, he has saved my soul.” And now the rescued publican is spreading the glad tidings which once he despised.

Another Society contemplating the good of British and foreign sailors and emigrants, as well as foreigners of all kinds who choose to avail themselves of its help, owed much in its origin and growth, to the liberal support and kindly counsel of Mr. Balfour. It is called “The Stranger’s Rest,” and supplements the efforts of the Associations already described. A grateful shelter is provided for strangers, with reading and writing room. Christian meetings for the reading and the explanation of Scripture are held in the English, French, German, Italian, Spanish, Finnish, Norse, and other languages. The work is largely carried on by Christian ladies, to whom the sailor invariably gives ready and respectful hearing. In a quiet, unobtrusive way much good has been done, wanderers have been brought back to the fold, sinners have been converted, prodigals have been restored to sorrowing parents, good seed has been sown in hearts which have carried it to all lands. We may add that Mr. and Mrs. Reginald Radcliffe throw their zeal and their energies into this excellent movement.

There is yet a great work before us, to be prosecuted on the same lines. There are great deliverances to be wrought out for our city and our sailors. We need only more work, more prayer, and more faith. Then shall we see the hopes, by many thought illusory, of men like Mr. Balfour, converted into glad realities.