Chapter VI

_The "Mud" Clerk_[B]--_Comparative Honors_

[B] "Mud" Clerk: Second clerk, whose duty it was to go out in

all weathers, upon the unpaved levees and deliver or receive

freight. As the levees were usually muddy in rainy weather, the

name became descriptive of the work and condition of the second

clerk.

The transition from the "main deck" to the "boiler deck" marked an

era in my experience. It opened a new chapter in my river life, and

one from which I have greatly profited. When I went upon the river

I was about as bashful a boy as could be found; that had been my

failing from infancy. As pantry boy I had little intercourse with the

passengers, the duties of that department of river industry requiring

only the washing, wiping, and general care of dishes and silverware.

A "cub" engineer slipped up to his stateroom, and donned presentable

clothing in which to eat his meals in the forward cabin, at the

officers' table, where all save the captain and chief clerk took

their meals. After that, his principal business was to keep out of

sight as much as possible until it was time to "turn in". He was not

an officer, and passengers were not striving for his acquaintance.

As second clerk all these conditions were changed. In the absence

of the chief clerk, his assistant took charge of the office,

answered all questions of passengers, issued tickets for passage

and staterooms, showed people about the boat, and in a hundred ways

made himself agreeable, and so far as possible ministered to their

comfort and happiness while on board. The reputation of a passenger

boat depended greatly upon the esteem in which the captain, clerks,

and pilots were held by the travelling public. The fame of such a

crew was passed along from one tourist to another, until the gentle

accomplishments of a boat's _personnel_ were as well known as their

official qualifications.

Captain William Faucette was, as I have said, of French Creole

stock, from New Orleans. In addition to being a good and capable

officer on the roof, he was also highly endowed with the graces

that commended him to the ladies and gentlemen who took passage

with him. Polite in his address, a fine dancer, a good story-teller

and conversationist, his personality went far toward attracting the

public who travelled for pleasure--and that was the best-paying

traffic, for which every first-class packet was bidding.

Charles Hargus, chief clerk, was not far behind his chief in winning

qualities. An educated man, he was also possessed of the address and

the other personal qualities which were necessary to equip one for

becoming a successful officer on a Mississippi passenger steamer.

Such was the atmosphere into which the oily "cub" from the

engine-room was ushered, when drafted into this service because of

the serious illness of the second clerk. It was too late to get a man

from the city, and the necessities of the case required an immediate

filling of the vacancy. I was invited, or rather commanded, to go

into the office for the trip, and do what I could to help out with

the work until the return to Galena, where a man or boy could be

found to fill the office until the sick officer returned.

The boat was guard-deep with freight, and at night the cabin was

carpeted with passengers sleeping on mattresses spread on the floor.

The chief clerk simply had to have somebody to help out. On my part,

it was the chance of my life. Without much prior business experience,

what little I had was right in line. I had checked freight on the

levee for the firm of L. H. Merrick & Co., was a good penman, fairly

good at figures, and had made out freight bills in the transfer of

freight at Prescott, which fact was known to the chief clerk. It is

needless to add that I required no second order. While second clerks

were not likely to get any shore leave at either end of the route,

nor at any intermediate ports, it required no brilliancy of intellect

to see that checking freight was comparatively cleaner than, and

superlatively preferable to, boiler-scaling.

Regarding my success in this new field, suffice it to say that the

trip to St. Paul and return was made, and the freight checked out

with surprisingly few errors for a beginner. The cargo of wheat,

potatoes, etc., was correctly counted in, properly entered in the

books, and correctly checked out at Prairie du Chien and Dunleith.

The sick clerk did not rejoin the boat. The temporary appointment

by the captain and chief clerk was made permanent by the secretary

of the company at Dunleith, Mr. Blanchard, on the recommendation of

Mr. Hargus, my chief. We ran into Galena on our regular Thursday

afternoon time, and instead of creeping into a steaming, muddy

boiler, I walked out on to the levee and was introduced to the great

wholesalers who at that time made Galena their headquarters, as "Mr.

Merrick, our new second clerk", and the work of loading for a new

trip was taken up.

While the office of second clerk was a decided promotion from my

point of view, it was not so esteemed on the river. Leaving the

engine-room was leaving the opportunity to learn the profession

of engineering. Once learned, it was then assumed that the person

so equipped was guaranteed employment so long as he willed, with

a minimum amount of competition. Later developments revealed the

fallacy of this conception. Within ten years thereafter, steamboating

was practically dead on the upper Mississippi. The completion of one

or more railroads into St. Paul, ended the river monopoly. Thereafter

a dozen steamboats did the business formerly requiring a hundred. The

wages of engineers and pilots dropped to a figure undreamed of in the

flush times between 1850 and 1860; there were twenty men competing

for every berth upon the river.

My new berth was not silk-lined, however. There was an aristocracy

in the official family above decks. The captain and the chief clerk

represented the first class, and the mate and the second clerk the

other. The line between these was represented by the watches into

which all officers on the boat were divided for rounds of duty. The

captain and his mate, and the chief clerk and his second stood watch

and watch during the twenty-four hours (that is, six hours on and six

hours off) all the season. The pilots and engineers interposed a "dog

watch", to break the monotony. The captain and the chief clerk went

on watch after breakfast, at seven in the morning, and stood until

noon. At twelve o'clock they were relieved by the mate and the second

clerk, who ran the steamboat and the business until six o'clock in

the evening, when they were relieved. After supper, they turned in

until midnight, when they were called and relieved the captain and

the chief clerk, who retired and slept until morning. While each

class of officers was on duty the same number of hours each day, the

difference lay in the fact that the junior officers were compelled

by this arrangement to turn out at midnight throughout the season.

It was this turning out at midnight that made the mate's watch (the

port watch) very undesirable so far as personal ease and comfort

was concerned. A man can knock about until midnight very agreeably,

after a short nap in the afternoon, provided he can have a sound

sleep during the "dead hours" from midnight until six o'clock in the

morning. To turn out at midnight every night and work until six is an

entirely different matter.

The pilots and engineers on our boat--and so far as my experience

went, on all boats--stood a "dog-watch" from four in the morning

until seven, thus making five watches during the twenty-four hours,

bringing the men of the two watches on duty alternately at midnight,

and shortening the "dead hours" from midnight to four o'clock, and

from four until seven, so that one did not get so "dead" tired and

sleepy as he would in standing a watch beginning every night at

midnight.

It was believed on the river that more people die between midnight

and morning than during any other six hours in the twenty-four. I

think that I have heard physicians confirm this. My own experience in

going on watch at midnight continuously during six months is, that

there is less vitality and ambition available in that period than in

any other. In fact, I have no distinct recollection that there was

any ambition at all mixed up in the process of writing up delivery

books, checking out freight, measuring wood, and performing the

hundred other duties that fell to the lot of the officer on watch,

when done in the depressing atmosphere of early morning. It was a

matter of duty, unmixed with higher motives.

It was not only the turning out at unholy hours, that differentiated

between first and second clerk. The second clerk must have his

delivery book written up for all the landings to be made during his

off-watch. The chief clerk then made the delivery from the book,

upon which the receipts were taken. If, during the second clerk's

off-watch, there was a particularly large manifest for any landing,

the assistant was called to attend to the delivery, after which he

could turn in again, if he chose. Of course it took a river man but

a moment to go to sleep after touching his bunk; but his rest was

broken, and in the course of the season this began to tell on every

one. Under the stress of it, men became hollow-eyed and lost flesh

and strength.

When on watch, the second clerk not only attended to his own

particular duties, but he also assumed for the time those of the

chief clerk. He collected fares from passengers coming aboard during

his watch; assigned rooms, provided there were any left to assign,

or a mattress on the cabin floor if there chanced to be any space

left on the floor, whereon to place another mattress; collected

freight bills, paid for wood or coal, and performed any other duties

ordinarily performed by the chief clerk when on watch. It was not

considered good form to call the chief clerk during his off-watch;

in fact, to do so would be a confession of ignorance or inability,

which no self-respecting second clerk cared to exhibit, and but

rarely did. Many the close conference with the chief mate, his

companion as well as superior during the long night watches; and many

the smiles evoked in after days when recalling the well-meant but

somewhat impracticable advice tendered upon some such occasions by

the good-hearted autocrat of the "roof" and fo' castle.

[Illustration: ALMA, WISCONSIN. A typical river town in the fifties.]