Royal Docks: Unearthing Invisible Seafaring Histories of Empire

By Asif Shakoor

The following post is written by Asif Shakoor, an Independent Scholar and authority on lascar heritage who is a member of our advisory board. The following is an extract from the presentation he gave at our project conference at the SS Great Britain in September 2024:

The term ‘Lascar’ was historically used to describe Black, Asian, and ethnic minority seafarers who served on British ships sailing from India in the 1600s. The original word, however, is Lashkar, not Lascar. The English diplomat Sir Thomas Roe first introduced the word lashkar into the English language in 1616. Later, in 1625, Sir Thomas Roe introduced the corrupted form lascar. This term is a misapplication and distortion of the Persian lashkar.i  

Many senior English officials in India had already been using lashkar before Sir Thomas Roe introduced the corrupted version lascar in 1625. For instance, William Biddulph used the word lashkar in 1621, while Robert Hughes and John Parker did so in 1622.  Maritime scholar, Dr Gopalan Balachandran, equated the term lascar with coolie, thereby rendering it a derogatory term.ii The etymology of lashkar traces it from Urdu لشکر, which originates from the Persian word لشکر, meaning ‘army’ in both languages. Further, it can be traced back to the Arabic word عسكر al-‘askir, also meaning ‘army’.

I don’t think my grandmother would have referred to my grandfather, Mahomed Gama, as a lascar. She would likely have asked, ‘So what is that then? What does that mean? What is a lascar?”. My grandfather was a South Asian seafarer لشکر, and I never refer to him as a lascar. Such a term does not exist in Urdu or Persian linguistic dictionaries from the past century.

The “Lascar Depot” in West Ham 

Around 1814 the East India Company established a hostel, called a depot, for seafarers from the Indian sub-continent who came to London on the Company’s ships. The depot was located in the parish of West Ham, and overseen by a ‘superintendent of lascars’, a London merchant named Abraham Gole. There may have been a second hostel in Shadwell, accommodating seafarers from both the sub-continent and China.

The East India Company claimed to have a moral obligation to look after these seafarers. They stated that they ‘felt it to be their duty, to use every means their power to preserve from injury those natives of India who were employed in navigating the ships’ that they owned, as well as those of other ship-owners. The Company claimed that the depot provided the seafarers ‘with every necessary comfort’.iii

Abraham Gole provided board and lodging, ‘including tobacco’ and conveyed the seamen to and from the docks, charging the East India Company a daily rate. In 1816 he reduced the charges, possibly because he feared that the hostel in West Ham would be closed after a petition against it was submitted by local residents. Drawn up by the vicar of West Ham, the Reverend C. Jones, and signed by more than 100 local people, the petition claimed that the hostel had ‘become a great nuisance’ to them and their families, though why was not clear. However, it seems that the petition was successful, because in 1818 the minutes of the government’s board of commissioners for India noted that the ‘depot’ appeared to have closed.

‘Le Gestenhall’ – A Guesthouse for ‘Lascars’ in West Ham in the 1840s 

A guesthouse for South Asian ‘lascar’ seamen once stood on the banks of the Channelsea River, a small tributary of the River Lea. The building, originally part of the Stratford Langthorne Abbey grounds, was recorded as ‘Le Gestenhall’ and was reportedly used to house ‘lascars’ in the 1840s. Today, a modern office block, likely Channelsea House on Canning Road (E15), occupies the site. This building is visible when travelling westbound on the District Line from West Ham Underground station and is situated adjacent to Masjid-e-Ilyas, a mosque (or Muslim place of worship).

‘Lascar’ Deaths and Burials in West Ham Cemetery 

With the opening of the Victoria Dock in 1855, ‘Lascar’ seafarers began arriving at the port. As ‘lascar’ seamen arrived in England, many fell victim to tropical and sea-borne diseases, while others died in London from unexplained causes. Seafarers also frequently suffered from sexually transmitted infections and pneumonia, which were also rife among seafarers. Many seamen died shortly after embarking on their voyages.

Dozens of Muslim seafarers were subsequently buried in West Ham Cemetery, which officially opened in 1857. Among these burials was Abdul Rahman, who died at the Seamen’s Hospital and was laid to rest in West Ham Cemetery on 17th September 1901. The burials of ‘lascar’ seafarers were in unconsecrated, unmarked public graves.

Many ships, such as the Belle of the Sea under the command of Captain Lewis, docked at the Victoria Dock in 1858, bringing cargo and ‘lascar’ crew from Calcutta, British India. The Belle of the Sea was the first vessel from Calcutta to dock at the Royal Victoria Dock, arriving on 5th July 1858.  

‘Lascars’ 

The Graphic, from 6th August 1892, reported on 2,000 ‘lascar’ seafarers professing ‘the creed of Mahomet’ and observing ʿĀshūrāʾعاشوراء, the commemoration of Imam Husayn’s martyrdom. They gathered at the renamed Royal Victoria Dock for a ten-day period in the first week of August. The article incorrectly remarked about ‘the murder of Hasan and Hussein’. The commemoration of ʿĀshūrāʾعاشوراء marks the martyrdom of Imam Husayn and not Imam Hasan. The article described in great depth the events of the procession, including a rather bizarre occurrence of the ‘lascars’ pausing “to make their salaams at the offices of the two companies”—those being the offices of the Peninsular and Oriental Steam Navigation Company (P&O) and the British India Steam Navigation Company, both of which retained offices at the Royal Docks. The term ‘salaam’, Arabic for ‘peace’ السلام, here implies a greeting.

The Illustrated London News, dated 9th April 1904, carried an article titled, ‘Hobson Jobson: A Curious Hindoo Celebration at Easter in the East End’. This event was, in fact, a Muslim commemoration of ʿĀshūrāʾ at the Royal Albert Dock, not a ‘Hindoo Celebration’. The phrase ‘Hobson Jobson’ refers to the names Hasan and Husayn, the grandsons of Prophet Muhammad, and evolved as a linguistic corruption of the call Ya Hasan, Ya Husayn یاحسن ياحسين ‘ This phrase gradually morphed through variations—’Hosseen Gosseen,’ ‘Hossy Gossy,’ ‘Hossen Jossen,’ and ‘Jackson Backson’—eventually becoming ‘Hobson-Jobson’.iv The phrase became so commonly used that Colonel Henry Yule and Dr. A.C. Burnell adopted it as the title for their 1886 dictionary, Hobson-Jobson: A Glossary of Colloquial Anglo-Indian Words and Phrases. The article described the ’lascars’ as ‘grotesquely dressed’ and carrying a ‘flimsy temple made of cardboard and paper’. It further suggested that the ‘temple’ was believed to contain the ‘devil’. However, this was an incorrect reference, as it was not a temple. In fact, it was known as Al-Ta’ziyyah تعزية, an Arabic term implying condolence or comfort, and a symbolic expression of grief made to represent the mausoleum of Imam Husayn (the grandson of Prophet Muhammad). Moreover, it is not associated with containing the devil.

An earlier edition of The Graphic, from 27th November 1873, featured a sketch of ‘lascar’ seafarers described as ‘Praying at Sunset.’ In this depiction, Muslim ‘lascars’ are shown in the Tashahhud تَشَهُّد posture meaning “testimony of faith”, also known as at-Tahiyyat ٱلتَّحِيَّات, performing the al-Maġrib prayer ṣalāt al-maġrib المغرب صلاة. Another ‘lascar’ is portrayed making supplication, or Dua دعاء, on the forecastle of the Sumatra, a vessel of the P&O.

Mahomed Gama (1895–1965) 

Mahomed Gama was born in 1895 in Jhang, Old Mirpur, in the erstwhile princely state of Jammu & Kashmir. He enlisted in the Mercantile Marine in 1913, beginning his service aboard the SS Mooltan.

During the First World War, Mahomed Gama also served on the SS Medina, transporting cargo and passengers. The ship called at the ports of London and New Sydney, Australia, in February 1916, eventually arriving in Bombay (now Mumbai) on 20th November 1916.

Notably, prior to Mahomed Gama’s service, the SS Medina had conveyed King George V to British India for his Delhi Durbar Coronation in 1911. On 11th November 1911, King George and Queen Mary departed from Portsmouth aboard RMS Medina and arrived in Bombay on 2nd December 1911. The durbar took place on 12th December 1911.

Mahomed Gama arrived onboard the SS Khiva at the Royal Victoria Dock, London, in December 1917. He remained there for a month, until the first week of January 1918, while the SS Khiva was refitted for its onward journey, transporting American troops from New York to the British ports of London, Plymouth, and Liverpool.

After the war ended, Mahomed Gama was awarded two medals in recognition of his service: the British War Medal and the Mercantile Marine War Medal. He passed away in August 1965 in Jhang, Old Mirpur, while visiting Pakistan. His burial site is now submerged beneath the waters of the Mangla Reservoir. His descendants continue to reside in both the United Kingdom and Pakistan.

Amir Haidar Khan (1900–1989) 

Dada Amir Haidar Khan (anglicised in the crew records as Ameer Hyder Atta Mahomed) served aboard the SS Khiva alongside Mahomed Gama. In his memoir, Chains to Lose: Life and Struggles of a Revolutionary, he vividly describes life during the First World War at the Royal Victoria Dock.v He recounts how London’s streets were ‘kept dark’, with little visible beyond the ‘cross-beams of powerful searchlights’ that scanned the skies over the city. He wrote, ‘Thus London, the cornerstone of the British Empire, was a rather gloomy place to live during the winter of 1917–1918.’

Reflecting on his impressions of London, he observed, ‘I had thought of all the white-skinned men who wore collars and suits as Sahibs, and all the women who wore skirts, blouses and awry hats as Memsahibs—the people of the ruling class as I knew them in India.’ In Urdu and Arabic, Sahib صاحب is a respectful title for a man, with Sahiba صاحبة as the equivalent for a woman, similar in function to the English use of ‘esquire’.

Amir Haidar Khan’s memoir is among the earliest recorded histories by a ‘lascar’ seafarer documenting experiences from the First World War.

The leading scholar on the South Asian presence in Britain, Dr Rozina Visram notes: ‘In 1919, at the end of the First World War, Indian seamen comprised 20 per cent of the British maritime labour force. Ten years later, the percentage stood at 23.5, rising to 26 per cent in 1938, a total of 50,000.’vi

Rohama Hassa (1895 -): The Oldest Surviving ‘Nolly’ or Continuous Discharge Certificate 

Continuous Discharge Certificates (CDCs) were introduced following the Merchant Shipping Act of 1854, which required a CDC to be signed by both the seafarer and the master of the vessel at the termination of each voyage. The earliest CDC first appeared in the early 1910s.

Rohama Hassa (anglicised as Rohama Hassa, though his original name was Rahima), was born in 1895 in the Punjab, British India, and is recorded on his Continuous Discharge Certificate as a ’Punjabi Mussuliman’. The phrase musalmān مسلمان is a Persian/Urdu term simply denoting his adherence to the Muslim faith. His CDC bears his fingerprint, as the majority of ‘lascars’ were unable to comprehend, read, or write in English, so a thumbprint sufficed in place of a signature.

Rohama Hassa’s CDC is the earliest known to survive in the United Kingdom, named to a South Asian ’lascar’ seafarer. It was issued in March 1914.

An analysis of Rohama Hassa’s CDC shows he served during the First World War on the SS Mongolia, SS Syria, SS Delta, and SS Kaiser-i-Hind, all vessels belonging to the P&O. Rules permitted a CDC to be valid for five years, renewable for up to five more years, provided the holder was a serving seaman and his CDC had not been cancelled, withdrawn, or suspended.  

According to crew lists and agreements, Rohama Hassa served on additional vessels of the P&O, namely the SS Moldavia and SS Narkunda. However, these vessels are not recorded on this CDC due to the reasons above. They would have been recorded on a separate CDC issued to him.

Acknowledgements

Mark Gorman, Local Historian, London Borough of Newham

Tom Chivers, Postgraduate Researcher, Queen Mary University of London, London

References

i Cited in the Oxford Concise Dictionary (Oxford University Press, 1st edition, 1911); and the Reader’s Digest Great Encyclopaedic Dictionary (Oxford University Press, 2nd edition, 1962).

ii Balachandran, Gopalan, 2012. Globalizing Labour: Indian seafarers and world shipping 1870-1945 (New Delhi. Oxford University Press)

iii London Courier and Evening Gazette, 25th January 1814

iv Bragg, Melvyn, 2016.  The Adventures of English: The Definitive Biography of Our Language (London: Hodder & Stoughton)

v Haidar Khan, Dada Amir,1989. Chains to Lose: Life and Struggles of a Revolutionary  (New Delhi: Patriot Publishers)

vi Visram, Rozina, 2002. Asians in Britain: 400 Years of History (London: Pluto Press), p. 225 

Word on the Waters – from the Mariners conference

The following post is written by Claire Weatherall, the archivist responsible for  the Mission to Seafarers collection at Hull History Centre and a member of the Mariners Advisory Board. In the post, they explore the question: What can we glean about the lives of sailors from the first publication of the Missions to Seamen? This was presented as part of the Mariners conference, at the ss Great Britain on 12-13 September.

Introduction 

Whilst cataloguing the archive of the Mission to Seafarers I learnt much of the lives of the chaplains and lay readers who undertook the daily work of the organisation. Regular reports and correspondence from port stations to head office capture the activities of these missionaries in ports across the world. We might similarly expect to find the archive littered with references to individuals aided by the organisation. However, details of the lives of seafarers that the Mission sought to help are rarely captured in the official record. 

We must think creatively to uncover the lived experiences of seafarers as revealed through interactions with missionary organisations. When cataloguing a series of publications produced by the Mission, I noticed that extracts from chaplains’ diaries, since lost to time, were often included in the early magazines. These extracts record encounters between chaplains and individual seafarers. 

The Mission’s first known magazine, The Word on the Waters, was published in 1858 (Hull History Centre Reference: U DMS/13/1/1). It was intended for circulation amongst seafarers and supporters of the Mission’s aims. With this in mind, we should consider that content was likely selected to demonstrate successful outcomes from the Mission’s work and to expound its Christian objectives. Nevertheless, the details captured in chaplains’ accounts can help us piece together narratives of seafarers’ lives.

First volume of The Word on the Waters  1 (1858) and illustrated issue from The Word on the Waters, new ser. 33 (1897) whoiwing ‘A mission-cutter at work’. MTS Archive, Hull History Centre.

The lives of seafarers 

So, what kind of details can we learn? 

Firstly, we find that life in port away from home could leave seafarers vulnerable to unscrupulous individuals. An extract from the correspondence of the Mission’s first chaplain describes meeting a sailor in a ‘forlorn’ state whilst walking in the street. The sailor is said to have recounted coming ashore with several months of wages, being helped to buy new clothing and find somewhere to stay, where he was plied with alcohol and women, before receiving a huge bill that he was having to go back to sea to work pay off (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.34-35). The description matches a practice known as crimping, which many seafarers in port are known to have experienced. Whilst the anecdote is used to caution against the dangers of drunkenness and lewd behaviour, the details help us understand how easily sailors in a strange port could be taken advantage of. It also helps us understand factors contributing to financial hardship faced by some individuals. 

Extract from Word on the Waters: ‘Surely the owners of ships should have more regard to the lives of seamen’.

We can glimpse details of physical conditions endured by seafarers. For example, a Bristol Channel chaplain records encountering a man onboard ship who was placed in irons and kept to a prison diet for striking the ship’s mate, thus revealing something of punishment at sea in practice (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.68). The same extract also notes that the chaplain was able to help secure the man’s release. Another extract highlights the lack of medical care available to seafarers: In the extract, a chaplain to the English Channel recounts visiting a vessel whose crew had been struck down by fever. The chaplain states that he found one man to be particularly ill but that the captain refused to allow him to be taken ashore for medicine. He describes rowing back at night with a surgeon friend and medicine to help the man (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, pp.116-119). Incidentally, in both examples, intervention by a chaplain led to physical improvements in the individual’s situation, suggesting that missionaries had a role to play in safeguarding the physical welfare of seafarers as well as their spiritual welfare. 

Extracts also reveal details of working conditions experienced by some seafarers. For example, an extract from the journal of a Bristol Channel chaplain recounts the plight of a shipwrecked Scottish crew. He notes that the loss of their ship ‘was occasioned by overloading, and especially by having pine logs on the deck, which, getting adrift in a gale, stove in and carried away everything, rendering it dangerous and impossible also for the men to work the pumps steadily’, continuing ‘owners of the ships should have more regard to the lives of seamen. It is the overloading of vessels which causes a considerable part of the destruction at sea and loss of life’ (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.68-69). 

We see evidence of literacy amongst seafarers. For instance, a Bristol Channel chaplain records meeting a sailor from Calcutta who had been baptized and educated by British missionaries. He notes that the two shared a book to read prayers and exposition during a service (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.67). Another example is given by a chaplain working on the Mersey, who recounts meeting ‘a black cook who had learnt to read English at Demerara’ having ‘obtained an old Bible from a sailor’ (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.187). The same chaplain also describes visiting an American ship and meeting a crew eager to receive reading material and converse with him: ‘All the sailors were blacks… I believe they could all read; they were very civil and respectful’ (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.255). As the above instances relate to seafarers of non-British origin who appeared to engage with Christianity, it is possible their inclusion is part of a narrative informed by missionary colonialism. Nevertheless, the accounts are evidence of reading ability amongst seafaring populations. Indeed, there are numerous instances describing British sailors reading religious texts and discussing the content with chaplains. 

Extracts from the archives reveal how remote seafarers’ lives could be. For example, the honorary chaplain for Plymouth recounts a visit made by himself and female helpers to deliver books to the crew of a lightship. His description suggests such crews had no visitors and welcomed their visit for the conversation and company it brought (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, p.191). Similarly, the description of a visit by a chaplain at Great Grimsby to the lightkeeper and lifeboat crew at Spurn Point states that the inhabitants were 5 miles across sand to the nearest house, that they never had visitors, and the lighthouse keeper complained that ‘no one cares a straw for us poor souls, we may die and the sea bury us for ought others care’ (The Word on the Waters, Vol.1, 1858, pp.85-86). In both instances, the chaplains describe difficulties reaching their destinations and the isolation in which lightkeepers lived. Reading between the lines we can see that missionary staff might have been the only regular company received by some isolated seafarers. 

Final thoughts 

To summarise, the brief entries we find in magazines such as The Word on the Waters can help us reconstruct the lived experience of both British seafarers and sailors of non-British origin. The surviving evidence reveals details of the dangers of life in port, working conditions, literacy, physical welfare, health care, and social contact, in addition to seafarers’ experience of interacting with missionaries. We don’t have space here to consider what conclusions we might draw from such evidence as regards the project’s themes of colonialism, race and religion, but hopefully this quick look has done enough to highlight that missionary magazines are a valuable research resource allowing us to explore these subjects. 

Mariners conference sails away

Researchers from across the UK, the US, Europe, Australia and India came together  in Bristol to talk and debate issues of race, religion and empire among maritime workers on 12-13 September 2024. From the conference venue we enjoyed a view of the iconic ss Great Britain and, on Friday, followed guides around Brunel’s landmark iron passenger liner.

Delegates took a tour of Brunel’s ss Great Britain.

Over seven lively panels, we encountered the trial of an enslaved black seaman in Victorian London (Umberto Garcia), the pre-history of the Cardiff race riots (Hassam Latif), and the religious background to Birkenhead’s Mere Hall Indian Seaman’s Home (Haseeb Khan). For the British strand, there was a touching account of the emotional lives of children in sailors’ orphan homes (Emily Cuming), and the place of Roman Catholics in the Royal Navy (Michael Snape). Workers’ religious politics in late colonial Calcutta were discussed by Prerna Agarwal, and Florian Stadtler  considered the unique record of Aziz Ahmad and his mission to lascars in Scotland. Justine Atkinson took us to Australia, and the diverse seamen’s missions in the colonial port of Newcastle, NSW, while Houda Al-Kateb provided a rivetting account of passengers on the ss Great Britain – a great way to introduce us to the ship beckoning out the window. Ting Ruan spoke on lighthouses in China, drawing attention to the extreme disparity in the salaries of European and local Chinese workers. The two teams for the Mariners project presented on religion, race and the lascar body, and the soul of the sailor in missions to British seamen.

Haseeb Khan on Birkenhead’s Mere Hall Home for Indian Seamen.

The final session was made up of panels, beginning with archivist extraordinaire, Claire Weatherall, enlightening us on the challenges of knowledge exchange for archives and archivisrts, with examples from the Anglican Missions to Seafarers collection at the Hull History Centre. Asif Shakoor gave a moving presentation on the lascar legacy from the point of view of a community historian, and Brad Beaven and Valerie Burton enlightened us with wit and accumulated wisdom as maritime and social historians of port cities.

We have grand plans for publication, and hope to gather these rich contributions to maritime and religious history into a journal special issue as well as blog posts and contributions to the Mariners website.

 

Liverpool archive trip: searching for lascar sources.

On Wednesday 29th of November, I embarked on a four-day research trip to Liverpool. The purpose of my trip was to find material relating to lascars, a term used for seamen predominately from Asia, as well as Africa and the Caribbean who were employed in the merchant marine in large numbers in the long nineteenth century.

Liverpool has a rich history of mission activity to seamen in the nineteenth century, with myriad sailors’ homes, missions and rests operating during this period. While many of these institutions catered exclusively to British Sailors, some religious organisations focused on lascars. The Birkenhead Mission to Asiatic Seamen, for instance, opened in Morpeth Docks in 1900, and a year later amalgamated with the Mersey Mission to Seamen described as its Asiatic branch.

My search for sources relating to lascars, and religious organisations’ responses to them in Liverpool, led me to the archives centre at the city’s Maritime Museum and Liverpool Record Office. The archive centre, located on the second floor of the Maritime Museum, is open to the public Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, 10.30 am-12.30 pm and 1.30-4 pm. No appointment is necessary. I was able to find references to some material through a searchable online catalogue prior to my visit. However, upon arrival at the archive, I found that I was able to better assess the extent of relevant material available through printed archive catalogues and information sheets which organised collections thematically. In this archive, I was able to observe material from organisations like the Seamen & Boatmen’s Friend Society and the Mersey Mission to Seamen. These sources have informed my understanding of mission activity to seamen in Liverpool during the period. In many ways, the absence of non-British sailors in these sources is a point for further enquiry, as I explore archival silences and what they in turn reveal. 

View from Maritime Archives
View from Maritime Archives

 

Mersey Maritime Museum Archives
Mersey Maritime Museum

The Liverpool Record Office, located on the third floor of the city’s central Library, open Monday to Friday 9 am to 8 pm, contains a diverse range of archives, rare books, microfilm and other material relating to Liverpool’s history. Booking is required for this archive, and the number of items readers can view per day is limited and must be requested 72 hours in advance of their visit. While I was able to see some items pertaining specifically to lascars, other archival material enriched my broader understanding of religious philanthropy, attitudes towards race, migration and mariners, as well as poverty in Liverpool in the nineteenth century. I was able to view copies of The Liverpool Review on microfilm, which I found particularly insightful. This was due to the presence of articles relating to non-British sailors, and the fact that this was a heavily illustrated newspaper, appealing to my interest and expertise in visual sources. 

 

Ceiling central library
Ceiling of Bristol Central Library

 

During my spare time in Liverpool, I visited local museums and galleries including the World Museum, Museum of Liverpool, the Maritime Museum and the Walker Gallery. My observations, both of the presence and absence of representation of themes of race, religion and sailors will inform and inspire my planning of the project’s forthcoming exhibition in 2025. 

 

Display at World Museum
Display at Liverpool World Museum