very careful of his manners and his dress, who had been selected
from the most highly educated merchant service in the world. He
was attentive to the comfort of his passengers and was presumed
to have no other duties on deck than to give the proper orders to
his first officer and work out his daily reckoning. It was an
exacting, nerve-racking ordeal, however, demanding a sleepless
vigilance, courage, and cool judgment of the first order. The
compensations were large. As a rule, he owned a share of the ship
and received a percentage of the freights and passage money. His
rank when ashore was more exalted than can be conveyed in mere
words. Any normal New York boy would sooner have been captain of
a Black Ball packet than President of the United States, and he
knew by heart the roaring chantey

It is of a flash packet,
A packet of fame.
She is bound to New York
And the Dreadnought's her name.
She is bound to the west'ard
Where the stormy winds blow.
Bound away to the west'ard,
Good Lord, let her go.


There were never more than fifty of these ships afloat, a
trifling fraction of the American deep-water tonnage of that day,
but the laurels they won were immortal. Not only did the English
mariner doff his hat to them, but a Parliamentary committee
reported in 1837 that "the American ships frequenting the ports
of England are stated by several witnesses to be superior to