CHAPTER 15

The Pilots' Monopoly

ONE day, on board the 'Aleck Scott,' my chief, Mr. Bixby, was crawling

carefully through a close place at Cat Island, both leads going, and

everybody holding his breath. The captain, a nervous, apprehensive man,

kept still as long as he could, but finally broke down and shouted from

the hurricane deck--

'For gracious' sake, give her steam, Mr. Bixby! give her steam! She'll

never raise the reef on this headway!'

For all the effect that was produced upon Mr. Bixby, one would have

supposed that no remark had been made. But five minutes later, when

the danger was past and the leads laid in, he burst instantly into a

consuming fury, and gave the captain the most admirable cursing I ever

listened to. No bloodshed ensued; but that was because the captain's

cause was weak; for ordinarily he was not a man to take correction

quietly.

Having now set forth in detail the nature of the science of piloting,

and likewise described the rank which the pilot held among the

fraternity of steamboatmen, this seems a fitting place to say a few

words about an organization which the pilots once formed for the

protection of their guild. It was curious and noteworthy in this,

that it was perhaps the compactest, the completest, and the strongest

commercial organization ever formed among men.

For a long time wages had been two hundred and fifty dollars a month;

but curiously enough, as steamboats multiplied and business increased,

the wages began to fall little by little. It was easy to discover the

reason of this. Too many pilots were being 'made.' It was nice to have

a 'cub,' a steersman, to do all the hard work for a couple of years,

gratis, while his master sat on a high bench and smoked; all pilots and

captains had sons or nephews who wanted to be pilots. By and by it came

to pass that nearly every pilot on the river had a steersman. When a

steersman had made an amount of progress that was satisfactory to any

two pilots in the trade, they could get a pilot's license for him by

signing an application directed to the United States Inspector. Nothing

further was needed; usually no questions were asked, no proofs of

capacity required.

Very well, this growing swarm of new pilots presently began to undermine

the wages, in order to get berths. Too late--apparently--the knights of

the tiller perceived their mistake. Plainly, something had to be done,

and quickly; but what was to be the needful thing. A close organization.

Nothing else would answer. To compass this seemed an impossibility; so

it was talked, and talked, and then dropped. It was too likely to ruin

whoever ventured to move in the matter. But at last about a dozen of

the boldest--and some of them the best--pilots on the river launched

themselves into the enterprise and took all the chances. They got a

special charter from the legislature, with large powers, under the name

of the Pilots' Benevolent Association; elected their officers, completed

their organization, contributed capital, put 'association' wages up to

two hundred and fifty dollars at once--and then retired to their homes,

for they were promptly discharged from employment. But there were two

or three unnoticed trifles in their by-laws which had the seeds of

propagation in them. For instance, all idle members of the association,

in good standing, were entitled to a pension of twenty-five dollars per

month. This began to bring in one straggler after another from the ranks

of the new-fledged pilots, in the dull (summer) season. Better have

twenty-five dollars than starve; the initiation fee was only twelve

dollars, and no dues required from the unemployed.

Also, the widows of deceased members in good standing could draw

twenty-five dollars per month, and a certain sum for each of their

children. Also, the said deceased would be buried at the association's

expense. These things resurrected all the superannuated and forgotten

pilots in the Mississippi Valley. They came from farms, they came from

interior villages, they came from everywhere. They came on crutches, on

drays, in ambulances,--any way, so they got there. They paid in their

twelve dollars, and straightway began to draw out twenty-five dollars a

month, and calculate their burial bills.

By and by, all the useless, helpless pilots, and a dozen first-class

ones, were in the association, and nine-tenths of the best pilots out

of it and laughing at it. It was the laughing-stock of the whole river.

Everybody joked about the by-law requiring members to pay ten per cent.

of their wages, every month, into the treasury for the support of the

association, whereas all the members were outcast and tabooed, and

no one would employ them. Everybody was derisively grateful to the

association for taking all the worthless pilots out of the way and

leaving the whole field to the excellent and the deserving; and

everybody was not only jocularly grateful for that, but for a result

which naturally followed, namely, the gradual advance of wages as the

busy season approached. Wages had gone up from the low figure of one

hundred dollars a month to one hundred and twenty-five, and in some

cases to one hundred and fifty; and it was great fun to enlarge upon the

fact that this charming thing had been accomplished by a body of men not

one of whom received a particle of benefit from it. Some of the jokers

used to call at the association rooms and have a good time chaffing the

members and offering them the charity of taking them as steersmen for

a trip, so that they could see what the forgotten river looked like.

However, the association was content; or at least it gave no sign to the

contrary. Now and then it captured a pilot who was 'out of luck,' and

added him to its list; and these later additions were very valuable,

for they were good pilots; the incompetent ones had all been absorbed

before. As business freshened, wages climbed gradually up to two hundred

and fifty dollars--the association figure--and became firmly fixed

there; and still without benefiting a member of that body, for no member

was hired. The hilarity at the association's expense burst all bounds,

now. There was no end to the fun which that poor martyr had to put up

with.

However, it is a long lane that has no turning. Winter approached,

business doubled and trebled, and an avalanche of Missouri, Illinois and

Upper Mississippi River boats came pouring down to take a chance in the

New Orleans trade. All of a sudden pilots were in great demand, and were

correspondingly scarce. The time for revenge was come. It was a bitter

pill to have to accept association pilots at last, yet captains and

owners agreed that there was no other way. But none of these outcasts

offered! So there was a still bitterer pill to be swallowed: they must

be sought out and asked for their services. Captain ---- was the first

man who found it necessary to take the dose, and he had been the

loudest derider of the organization. He hunted up one of the best of the

association pilots and said--

'Well, you boys have rather got the best of us for a little while, so

I'll give in with as good a grace as I can. I've come to hire you; get

your trunk aboard right away. I want to leave at twelve o'clock.'

'I don't know about that. Who is your other pilot?'

'I've got I. S----. Why?'

'I can't go with him. He don't belong to the association.'

'What!'

'It's so.'

'Do you mean to tell me that you won't turn a wheel with one of the

very best and oldest pilots on the river because he don't belong to your

association?'

'Yes, I do.'

'Well, if this isn't putting on airs! I supposed I was doing you a

benevolence; but I begin to think that I am the party that wants a favor

done. Are you acting under a law of the concern?'

'Yes.'

'Show it to me.'

So they stepped into the association rooms, and the secretary soon

satisfied the captain, who said--

'Well, what am I to do? I have hired Mr. S---- for the entire season.'

'I will provide for you,' said the secretary. 'I will detail a pilot to

go with you, and he shall be on board at twelve o'clock.'

'But if I discharge S----, he will come on me for the whole season's

wages.'

'Of course that is a matter between you and Mr. S----, captain. We

cannot meddle in your private affairs.'

The captain stormed, but to no purpose. In the end he had to discharge

S----, pay him about a thousand dollars, and take an association pilot

in his place. The laugh was beginning to turn the other way now. Every

day, thenceforward, a new victim fell; every day some outraged captain

discharged a non-association pet, with tears and profanity, and

installed a hated association man in his berth. In a very little while,

idle non-associationists began to be pretty plenty, brisk as business

was, and much as their services were desired. The laugh was shifting to

the other side of their mouths most palpably. These victims, together

with the captains and owners, presently ceased to laugh altogether,

and began to rage about the revenge they would take when the passing

business 'spurt' was over.

Soon all the laughers that were left were the owners and crews of boats

that had two non-association pilots. But their triumph was not very

long-lived. For this reason: It was a rigid rule of the association

that its members should never, under any circumstances whatever, give

information about the channel to any 'outsider.' By this time about half

the boats had none but association pilots, and the other half had none

but outsiders. At the first glance one would suppose that when it came

to forbidding information about the river these two parties could play

equally at that game; but this was not so. At every good-sized town from

one end of the river to the other, there was a 'wharf-boat' to land

at, instead of a wharf or a pier. Freight was stored in it for

transportation; waiting passengers slept in its cabins. Upon each

of these wharf-boats the association's officers placed a strong box

fastened with a peculiar lock which was used in no other service but

one--the United States mail service. It was the letter-bag lock, a

sacred governmental thing. By dint of much beseeching the government

had been persuaded to allow the association to use this lock. Every

association man carried a key which would open these boxes. That key, or

rather a peculiar way of holding it in the hand when its owner was asked

for river information by a stranger--for the success of the St. Louis

and New Orleans association had now bred tolerably thriving branches in

a dozen neighboring steamboat trades--was the association man's sign and

diploma of membership; and if the stranger did not respond by producing

a similar key and holding it in a certain manner duly prescribed, his

question was politely ignored.

From the association's secretary each member received a package of more

or less gorgeous blanks, printed like a billhead, on handsome paper,

properly ruled in columns; a bill-head worded something like this--

These blanks were filled up, day by day, as the voyage progressed, and

deposited in the several wharf-boat boxes. For instance, as soon as the

first crossing, out from St. Louis, was completed, the items would be

entered upon the blank, under the appropriate headings, thus--

'St. Louis. Nine and a half (feet). Stern on court-house, head on dead

cottonwood above wood-yard, until you raise the first reef, then pull up

square.' Then under head of Remarks: 'Go just outside the wrecks; this

is important. New snag just where you straighten down; go above it.'

The pilot who deposited that blank in the Cairo box (after adding to it

the details of every crossing all the way down from St. Louis) took

out and read half a dozen fresh reports (from upward-bound steamers)

concerning the river between Cairo and Memphis, posted himself

thoroughly, returned them to the box, and went back aboard his boat

again so armed against accident that he could not possibly get his boat

into trouble without bringing the most ingenious carelessness to his

aid.

Imagine the benefits of so admirable a system in a piece of river twelve

or thirteen hundred miles long, whose channel was shifting every day!

The pilot who had formerly been obliged to put up with seeing a shoal

place once or possibly twice a month, had a hundred sharp eyes to watch

it for him, now, and bushels of intelligent brains to tell him how to

run it. His information about it was seldom twenty-four hours old. If

the reports in the last box chanced to leave any misgivings on his

mind concerning a treacherous crossing, he had his remedy; he blew his

steam-whistle in a peculiar way as soon as he saw a boat approaching;

the signal was answered in a peculiar way if that boat's pilots were

association men; and then the two steamers ranged alongside and all

uncertainties were swept away by fresh information furnished to the

inquirer by word of mouth and in minute detail.

The first thing a pilot did when he reached New Orleans or St. Louis was

to take his final and elaborate report to the association parlors and

hang it up there,--after which he was free to visit his family. In these

parlors a crowd was always gathered together, discussing changes in the

channel, and the moment there was a fresh arrival, everybody stopped

talking till this witness had told the newest news and settled the

latest uncertainty. Other craftsmen can 'sink the shop,' sometimes,

and interest themselves in other matters. Not so with a pilot; he must

devote himself wholly to his profession and talk of nothing else; for it

would be small gain to be perfect one day and imperfect the next. He has

no time or words to waste if he would keep 'posted.'

But the outsiders had a hard time of it. No particular place to meet

and exchange information, no wharf-boat reports, none but chance and

unsatisfactory ways of getting news. The consequence was that a man

sometimes had to run five hundred miles of river on information that

was a week or ten days old. At a fair stage of the river that might have

answered; but when the dead low water came it was destructive.

Now came another perfectly logical result. The outsiders began to

ground steamboats, sink them, and get into all sorts of trouble,

whereas accidents seemed to keep entirely away from the association men.

Wherefore even the owners and captains of boats furnished exclusively

with outsiders, and previously considered to be wholly independent of

the association and free to comfort themselves with brag and laughter,

began to feel pretty uncomfortable. Still, they made a show of keeping

up the brag, until one black day when every captain of the lot was

formally ordered to immediately discharge his outsiders and take

association pilots in their stead. And who was it that had the dashing

presumption to do that? Alas, it came from a power behind the throne

that was greater than the throne itself. It was the underwriters!

It was no time to 'swap knives.' Every outsider had to take his trunk

ashore at once. Of course it was supposed that there was collusion

between the association and the underwriters, but this was not so. The

latter had come to comprehend the excellence of the 'report' system of

the association and the safety it secured, and so they had made their

decision among themselves and upon plain business principles.

There was weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth in the camp of

the outsiders now. But no matter, there was but one course for them to

pursue, and they pursued it. They came forward in couples and groups,

and proffered their twelve dollars and asked for membership. They were

surprised to learn that several new by-laws had been long ago added. For

instance, the initiation fee had been raised to fifty dollars; that

sum must be tendered, and also ten per cent. of the wages which the

applicant had received each and every month since the founding of

the association. In many cases this amounted to three or four hundred

dollars. Still, the association would not entertain the application

until the money was present. Even then a single adverse vote killed the

application. Every member had to vote 'Yes' or 'No' in person and before

witnesses; so it took weeks to decide a candidacy, because many pilots

were so long absent on voyages. However, the repentant sinners scraped

their savings together, and one by one, by our tedious voting process,

they were added to the fold. A time came, at last, when only about ten

remained outside. They said they would starve before they would apply.

They remained idle a long while, because of course nobody could venture

to employ them.

By and by the association published the fact that upon a certain date

the wages would be raised to five hundred dollars per month. All the

branch associations had grown strong, now, and the Red River one had

advanced wages to seven hundred dollars a month. Reluctantly the ten

outsiders yielded, in view of these things, and made application. There

was another new by-law, by this time, which required them to pay dues

not only on all the wages they had received since the association was

born, but also on what they would have received if they had continued at

work up to the time of their application, instead of going off to pout

in idleness. It turned out to be a difficult matter to elect them, but

it was accomplished at last. The most virulent sinner of this batch had

stayed out and allowed 'dues' to accumulate against him so long that he

had to send in six hundred and twenty-five dollars with his application.

The association had a good bank account now, and was very strong. There

was no longer an outsider. A by-law was added forbidding the reception

of any more cubs or apprentices for five years; after which time

a limited number would be taken, not by individuals, but by the

association, upon these terms: the applicant must not be less than

eighteen years old, and of respectable family and good character; he

must pass an examination as to education, pay a thousand dollars in

advance for the privilege of becoming an apprentice, and must remain

under the commands of the association until a great part of the

membership (more than half, I think) should be willing to sign his

application for a pilot's license.

All previously-articled apprentices were now taken away from their

masters and adopted by the association. The president and secretary

detailed them for service on one boat or another, as they chose, and

changed them from boat to boat according to certain rules. If a pilot

could show that he was in infirm health and needed assistance, one of

the cubs would be ordered to go with him.

The widow and orphan list grew, but so did the association's financial

resources. The association attended its own funerals in state, and paid

for them. When occasion demanded, it sent members down the river upon

searches for the bodies of brethren lost by steamboat accidents; a

search of this kind sometimes cost a thousand dollars.

The association procured a charter and went into the insurance business,

also. It not only insured the lives of its members, but took risks on

steamboats.

The organization seemed indestructible. It was the tightest monopoly in

the world. By the United States law, no man could become a pilot unless

two duly licensed pilots signed his application; and now there was

nobody outside of the association competent to sign. Consequently the

making of pilots was at an end. Every year some would die and others

become incapacitated by age and infirmity; there would be no new ones

to take their places. In time, the association could put wages up to any

figure it chose; and as long as it should be wise enough not to carry

the thing too far and provoke the national government into amending the

licensing system, steamboat owners would have to submit, since there

would be no help for it.

The owners and captains were the only obstruction that lay between

the association and absolute power; and at last this one was removed.

Incredible as it may seem, the owners and captains deliberately did it

themselves. When the pilots' association announced, months beforehand,

that on the first day of September, 1861, wages would be advanced to

five hundred dollars per month, the owners and captains instantly put

freights up a few cents, and explained to the farmers along the river

the necessity of it, by calling their attention to the burdensome rate

of wages about to be established. It was a rather slender argument, but

the farmers did not seem to detect it. It looked reasonable to them that

to add five cents freight on a bushel of corn was justifiable under

the circumstances, overlooking the fact that this advance on a cargo of

forty thousand sacks was a good deal more than necessary to cover the

new wages.

So, straightway the captains and owners got up an association of their

own, and proposed to put captains' wages up to five hundred dollars,

too, and move for another advance in freights. It was a novel idea,

but of course an effect which had been produced once could be produced

again. The new association decreed (for this was before all the

outsiders had been taken into the pilots' association) that if any

captain employed a non-association pilot, he should be forced to

discharge him, and also pay a fine of five hundred dollars. Several

of these heavy fines were paid before the captains' organization grew

strong enough to exercise full authority over its membership; but that

all ceased, presently. The captains tried to get the pilots to decree

that no member of their corporation should serve under a non-association

captain; but this proposition was declined. The pilots saw that they

would be backed up by the captains and the underwriters anyhow, and so

they wisely refrained from entering into entangling alliances.

As I have remarked, the pilots' association was now the compactest

monopoly in the world, perhaps, and seemed simply indestructible.

And yet the days of its glory were numbered. First, the new railroad

stretching up through Mississippi, Tennessee, and Kentucky, to Northern

railway centers, began to divert the passenger travel from the steamers;

next the war came and almost entirely annihilated the steamboating

industry during several years, leaving most of the pilots idle, and the

cost of living advancing all the time; then the treasurer of the St.

Louis association put his hand into the till and walked off with

every dollar of the ample fund; and finally, the railroads intruding

everywhere, there was little for steamers to do, when the war was over,

but carry freights; so straightway some genius from the Atlantic coast

introduced the plan of towing a dozen steamer cargoes down to New

Orleans at the tail of a vulgar little tug-boat; and behold, in the

twinkling of an eye, as it were, the association and the noble science

of piloting were things of the dead and pathetic past!