The Ferret: sanctioned scuttlebutt and nautical news in the 1880s

A bound volume of The Ferret — the HMS Constance’s ship newspaper — published in 1889 / Robert Neff Collection

In the spring of 1888, the HMS Constance began printing its own newspaper called The Ferret. This newspaper provided an interesting perspective of life aboard a British warship and was filled with scuttlebutt, advice and, of course, anonymous complaints.

One contentious subject that graced its pages was underage smoking. In a letter to the editors, one crewman (identified as Lynx) wrote:

“As you, and all your readers, are, no doubt, well aware that smoking among boys is prohibited in the Service, as it should be, and it is every man’s duty to check the habit among them as much as he possibly can, until they arrive at that long-looked-for period, viz., the age of eighteen, when according to established rule they become men.”

The writer claimed that he had witnessed other sailors “willfully encouraging boys” to take up the nasty habit by providing them with tobacco, matches and pipes. It was his hope that by writing to the editor he could discourage his fellow crewmembers from corrupting the boys.

His letter was answered by one of those accused of “the heinous offence.” He suggested that Lynx was a new officer on deck “anxious to show his authority” and unaware of “the luxuries derived from a pipe.” He charged Lynx with being “guilty of gross neglect of duty” for failure to report the incidents in the proper manner and added “there are no vacancies in the ship for any secret police at present.”

Lynx took great pleasure in the stir he caused and even noted that one of the “aiders and abettors” had offered “a fabulous reward” for information revealing Lynx’s true identity. The editors of the paper eventually put the subject to rest as it was “contrary to our custom to wound the feelings of honourable men of any rating.”

William Snow, the ship’s mascot / Robert Neff Collection

While much page space was dedicated to the shortcomings of the ship’s canteen and the various cooks and their messes — there were little tidbits here and there about animals. One subject that came up was the humane method to kills pigs aboard the ship — some of the crew thought it could be done more humanely. There were also articles about the Chinese propensity to eat dogs (this inspired a contest in which readers were encouraged to submit stories along the theme of sailors inadvertently eating dog while ashore in China). The ever-present sharks that followed the ship waiting for the chance to eat anything that fell into the water were often mentioned — fortunately there were no human casualties caused by these apex predators but there was one poodle who lost its life. There were also accounts of the warship’s official pets (including a dog, cat, two canaries and a goat named William) and the dreadful fates of unofficial pets that were smuggled aboard ship — including the poodle.

Sailing is inherently a dangerous occupation and the paper often reported accidents occurring aboard the ship. These accidents were mainly from falls which resulted in severe fractures — sometimes ending the sailor’s career. There were also deaths — mainly from disease. Money was raised through subscriptions through the newspaper to have the dead properly buried at Yokohama and Singapore — and to ensure the stones were properly maintained. Money was also raised to send back to the dead sailors’ families.

The paper also provided entertaining (and perhaps, helpful) information to the crew explaining the culture of the ports they were to visit or had already visited. One of the only mentions of Korea in the newspaper was a fictional piece that was based on a grave robbery that had been attempted in 1868.

In preparation for its deployment to Japan, the ship’s newspaper provided some Japanese superstitions:

“A familiar sight in front of Japanese temples is an immense figure of the ‘Wind-Imp,’ and another of the ‘Thunder-Cat.’ The ‘Wind-Imp’ has a huge bag of compressed air on his back, from which he can manufacture a gentle breeze, a gale of wind, or a typhoon at pleasure. The ‘Thunder-Cat’ carries on his head fire drums, fastened together, with which he makes thunder. He often escapes from the clouds to the ground, doing terrible mischief. When a victim is killed by lightning it is because the ‘Thunder-Cat’ has leaped upon him.”

The first edition of the ship’s newspaper / Robert Neff Collection

Of course, there were other superstitious dangers to contend with. The “Kawa-Itachi,” described as a weasel armed with a sharp invisible knife, was always present in Japanese streets and took great pleasure in injuring pedestrians. If someone slipped in the street, it was blamed upon the Kawa-Itachi, and if the victim was scratched or scraped due to the fall, this was attributed to the invisible blade.

Sleeping was also a perilous activity: “The Japanese have a current belief that when man falls asleep the soul leaves the body for rest or play. Therefore no one must be awoke suddenly, or he may die before his soul can return.” The editors speculated that this belief must have made it very difficult for the change of watch aboard Japanese warships.

There was also advice for sailors who might spend the night in Japanese hotels:

“The dead are always placed with their feet to the south. Therefore people will not sleep in that position. On ceilings of hotel bedrooms are diagrams of the points of the compass, to aid people in avoiding this ill-omened position.”

Japanese bathing etiquette was a frequent subject for letters home. Sailors, who were not exactly famed for their hygiene, probably found it entertaining to discover that there were days on which it was imperative for Japanese not to wash their hair lest it “become red, a colour of which [the Japanese] have a great horror, as pertaining to evil spirit and bad men, such as English snobs.”

Speaking of water, prior to solar and lunar eclipses, wells were supposedly covered so as to prevent poison falling into them from the sky.

The newspaper also provided a venue for those looking for lost goods. A $2 reward was offered for anyone returning a set of false teeth that were lost while engaged in marksmanship training ashore. It is unclear if the teeth were ever returned but two weeks later the paper published:

“When a woman in Japan marries, she deliberately destroys her good looks by staining her teeth jet black.” According to the writer, he was shocked at encountering “nice, smartly-dressed young women” whose appearance was marred by blackened teeth. While in the city, he passed a dentist’s showcase filled with “shiny black false teeth.” To his understanding, “a girl once married has attractions only for her husband, and must no longer present a pleasing appearance to the world at large.”

The editors declared the Japanese were “the most interesting people in the world” but lamented they were rapidly “becoming sadly civilized and more European every year.”

When the warship returned to England in 1889, a hard-bound copy of the newspaper was published for the crew. I am not sure how many were actually published — and how many yet survive — but if you find it in a library take some time to read it. I wish I knew what happened to William Snow — did he finally retire and live the rest of his life on a farm, or did he go back to sea as a mascot on another ship?

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.