"The modern sailor," continues Captain Semmes, "has greatly changed in character.

He now stickles for pay like a sharper, and seems to have lost his recklessness and love of adventure." However this latter proposition may be, the truth of the former was most amply proved on the day in question.

Jack niggled and haggled, and insisted pertinaciously on the terms he felt his would-be Captain's necessity enabled him to command; and in the end Captain Semmes was fain to consent to the exorbitant rates of L4 10s.

a month for seamen, L5 and L6 for petty officers, and L7 for firemen! "I was glad," he writes, "to get them even upon these terms, as I was afraid a large bounty in addition would be demanded of me." Very curious was the contrast afforded by this scene with the enthusiasm that had preceded, and the gallant, dashing, reckless career that followed it.

These men who thus stood out for the last sixpence they could hope to wring from their employer's necessity, were the same who subsequently dashed blindfold into the action with the Hatteras, and later yet, steamed quietly out of a safe harbour with a disabled ship, to meet an enemy in perfect trim and of superior force, and as their shattered vessel sank beneath their feet, crowded round the very captain with whom the hard bargain had been driven, imploring him not to yield.
Finally, the bargaining resulted in the shipping of a crew, all told, of eighty men; a larger number, perhaps, than Captain Semmes had himself anticipated, but still not so many by at least twenty-five as were required for properly manning and fighting the vessel.