Historic Nantucket
The African Baptist Society's Church On The Corner of York and Pleasant Street As It Looked 75 Years Ago. Will it be preserved1 Will it be lost?
January, 1977
Published Quarterly by Nantucket Historical Association Nantucket, Masachusetts
NANTUCKET HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION OFFICERS President, Leroy H. True Vice-Presidents, Albert G. Brock, George W. Jones, Alcon Chadwick, Albert F. Egan Jr., Walter Beinecke, Jr. Honorary Vice-Presidents, W. Ripley Nelson, Henry B. Coleman Secretary, Richard C. Austin Treasurer, John N. Welch Councillors, Leroy H. True, Chairman Benjamin Richmond, Francis W. Pease, terms expire 1977; Mrs. R. A. Orleans, Robert E. Tonkin, terms expire 1978; Robert D. Congdon, Harold W. Lindley, terms expire 1979; Mrs. James F. Merriman, Miss Barbara Melendy, terms expire 1980. Registrar, Miss Dorothy Gardner Historian, Edouard A. Stackpole Editor, "Historic Nantucket", Edouard A. Stackpole; Assistant Editor, Mrs. Merle Turner Orleans. f-
STAFF
Oldest House: Curator, Mrs. Kenneth S. Baird Receptionists: Mrs. Margaret Crowell, Miss Adeline Cravott Hadwen House-Satler Memorial: Curator, Mrs. Phoebe P. Swain Receptionists: Mrs. Irving A. Soverino, Mrs. Alfred A. Hall, Mrs. Harold Arnold, Miss Helen Levins 1800 House: Curator, Mrs. Clare McGregor Old Gaol: Curator, Albert G. Brock Whaling Museum: Curator, Hugh R. Chace Receptionists: Clarence H. Swift, Mrs. Herbert Sandsbury, Frank Pattison, James A. Watts, Miss Lucia Arno, Abram Niles Peter Foulger Museum: Curator, and Director, Edouard A. Stackpole Receptionists: Mrs. Clara Block, Joseph Sylvia, Miss Lalie Keesham Librarian: Mrs. Louise Hussey Nathaniel Macy House: Curator, Mrs. John A. Baldwin Receptionists: Miss Dorothy Hiller, Mrs.Henry C. Petzel Archaeology Department: Curator, Mrs. Roger Young Field Supervisor, Miss Barbara Kranichfeld Old Town Office: Curator, Hugh R. Chace Old Mill: Curator, Richard F. Swain Millers: William Searles, John Stackpole Folger-Franklin Seat & Memorial Boulder: Curator, Francis Sylvia Friends Meeting House-Fair Street Museum: Curator, Albert F. Egan, Jr. Lightship "Nantucket": Curator, Benjamin S. Richmond Ship Keeper, Richard Swain
HISTORIC NANTUCKET Published quarterly and devoted to the preservation of Nantucket's antiquity, its famed heritage and its illustrious past as a whaling port. Volume 24
January, 1977
tCxTS®
No. 3
CONTENTS
Nantucket Historical Association Officers and Staff i
2
Editorial
5
The Silver of John Jackson by Kathryn C. Buhler
6
William Watson, Engineer and Educator
10
The Nantucket Railroad Collection
13
Wreck of the "T. B. Witherspoon" by Edouard A. Stackpole
17
Grace Brown Gardner by Gertrude A. Pratt
22
Presentation of Relics from S. S. "Nobska"
25
Legacies and Bequests
26
"The Far Away Island" by Theodore C. Wyman
27
Historic Nantucket is published quarterly at Nantucket, Massachusetts, by the Nantucket Historical Association. It is sent to Association Members. Extra copies $.50 each. Membership dues are— Annual-Active $7.50; Sustaining $25.00; Life — one payment $100.00 Second-class postage paid at Nantucket, Massachusetts Communications pertaining to the Publication should be addressed to the Editor, Historic Nantucket, Nantucket Historical Association, Nantucket, Massachusetts 02554.
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Editorial JANUS, THE TRADITIONAL God of the ancients for the first month of the new year, was endowed with two heads, which enabled him to look back to the past as well as to the future. We of the modern world are not so fortunate as Janus, as the inclination is to recapture the past — if we are old — or to regard only the present — if we are young. To review what has happened and ponder on what is to come, perhaps, requires more than two heads in our own times. But we must do so if, for no other reason, we gain a measure of perspective. The Nantucket Historical Association was created so that the preservation of the past may help us along the present road and enable us to plan, in a broad sense, the future. Nantucket, as a community, has been fortunate in having been able to keep the Town protected. Many of its citizens have acquired, either by birth or association, a sense of history, an awareness of the historical importance of Nantucket. This needs constant vigilance — a reassessment of how our community was established and why it is important to maintain its traditions in a rapidly changing world. Only through the logbook of history may we find the true story of what Nantucket has meant to the nation. The evolution of this whaling Town includes its cultural as well as economic identity; its transition from a maritime place to an outstanding resort; its reputation as a place where the atmosphere of the old lingers in the modern setting. And the dangers which threaten both present and future become stronger and more visible as we review the scene. Through its preservation of historic houses and places; with its exhibits of the relics of an exciting past, the Nantucket Historical Association brings out the essence of the Nantucket story. With the opening of its first displays at the Quaker Meeting House on Fair Street in 1895, the Association has kept constantly before the people the fact that the physical evidences of the past are in themselves the true milestones of what we once represented, how we have developed, and what are the qualities we hope to preserve as the true Nantucket traditions. The most recent of our major historical acquisitions — the Nantucket Lightship — is in itself a symbol of respect for the past and * faith in the future. To call for support of the Nantucket Historical Association in its endeavors is, by the same token, to call for the continued maintenance of an Island institution whose life is so closely woven into the life of our community.
—Edouard A. Stackpole
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The Silver of John Jackson, Ca. 1705-1772 Nantucket's First Silversmith BY KATHRYN C. BUHLER [Mrs. Buhler is a noted authority on American silver and has been associated with The Museum of Fine Arts for many years.] JEAN R. MERRIMAN'S definitive research, summarized in "The Mystery of John Jackson 18th Century Silversmith," culminated in assembling all the then known work of the craftsman at The Fair Street Museum in the summer of 1976. It is not surprising that another eighteenth century spoon has come to light, comparable in workmanship to the carefully studied pieces which answered the riddle of the sub-title "One Man or Two?" For biographical and genealogical comments, the writer is indebted to the book published at the Poet's Corner Press, Nantucket, 1976. Jackson was "goldsmith of Boston" in a deed recorded in Nantucket in 1753, the year in which he married Abigail, the illegitimate daughter of Jerusha Coffin (who had preferred to marry John Mathews) and Peter Fitch. Abigail Fitch was probably twenty-three at the time, the goldsmith considerably older. The accounts of earlier chroniclers of Nantucket were at considerable variance; one writer gave his age then as 41Vi, another gave his death at that age; this writer inclines to doubt both ages. There are numerous possibilities in New York and New England for Jackson and/or his forebears originating in either place. His name ap pears on a list, published in 1885 by the New York Historical Society, of Freemen in that city when in 1731 eight goldsmiths and one silversmith were granted their freedom. Jackson was in the first group of three on April 6; one each followed on April 13, May 4 (the silversmith), May 18 and three on May 25. It is a coincidence that in each group of three there is one name not connected with any work for a New York family. Thomas Edwards appears in the May 25 list, yet there was a goldsmith of that name born and practising in Boston before that. He had been trained by his father, and his beaker for the First Congregational Parish in Milton is dated 1728. He presumably did considerable wandering for he bought land in Cambridge, Plymouth and Plympton, Massachusetts, and in
THE SILVER OF JOHN JACKSON
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Exeter, New Hampshire. Here, of course, a question remains: is it safe to assume that two Boston men ventured to New York for a freedom of which they did not avail themselves? Jackson had already made, presumably in 1730, a pepper box, still in the hands of descendants, for Abigail Coffin (1708-96) whose maiden initials it bears and who married Grafton Gardner on September 22, 1730. Another early work, a rat-tail spoon engraved "Deborah Macy born 17th 4 mo 1726," seems to the writer probably to have been a christening gift in that year. Had Jackson been born c. 1705, as this would permit, his span of craftsmanship was comparable to that of other Boston goldsmiths as Edward Winslow (1669-1753) who is known to have been working in 1734, and John Edwards (1671-1746) who fashioned a beaker . .for the Church of Christ in Summer Street. . in 1744. The first book on silver to show Jackson's mark was that by Hollis French, in 1917, who doubtless took the surname mark from his spoon, subsequently given to the Cleveland Museum of Art. He considered it "crude capitals in rectangle" and we pondered it at length with all twenty pieces before us. There seemed to be two punches used indiscriminately; one has almost minute stalactites across the top line, the other is crisp and clear. Herbert Gebelein, since consulted, believes the lettering — Jackson's serifs are notably strong — to be so exact that one punch was used throughout, perhaps at varying angles. Nonetheless, careful notations on them are included. Mr. French's source for the attribution would have been the New York Historical Society list, or as it was copied by John H. Buck; the localization was reasonable, for by this time New York and New England spoons were fashioned along the same lines. It is interesting that Mr. French's spoon, engraved D M with added joint owner's initials, was stamped with the mark used on Yale's D M spoon and that both, with long midrib and rat-tail, might have belonged to Deborah (Coffin) Macy, mother of the namesake born in 1726. To be sure, there is a slight discrepancy in their lengths (Cleveland 7 314 in., Yale 7 7|8 in.) but so is there in the stem lengths of the two spoons whose bowls nest perfectly, made for Thomas and Rachel (Allen or Allin) Starbuck who were married in 1726. These spoons descended in the families for which they were engraved and the casualness of our goldsmith is seen in his having used slanted lines between the uprights of the T and R on the shorter stem, whereas the other uprights are four closely parallel lines. The curve of an S is somewhat uncertain on all Jackson's work. The punch of these has the clear top line as we also found on the similar spoon for John and Experience Swain, made presumably prior to his death in 1738.
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
Parenthetically here, one might quote the disconcerting clause of Daniel Gookin's will of 1685 when he left his wife Hannah "a piece of plate either a Cupp or Tankard to be made new for her mark'd D G H." Jackson's seventh rat-tail spoon bears the initials of Abigail Folger, who had married Daniel Folger in 1721, and probably in a third though not collateral generation those of Margaret Coffin Wyer. Six spoons in the exhibit have double drops on their bowls and only a slight midrib on the stem. One engraved L M and, by another hand, S G suggests Nantucket ownership by Lydia Macy who married Abishai Gardner in 1751. They had no issue and his niece Susanna Gardner is a logical recipient. A privately owned spoon appears to have been engraved by the maker with M M; there were two Mary Macy's of appropriate age to own them; both of these spoons have the untidy top line mark. Two similarly stamped spoons are dated and appear to be in Jackson's engraving. One was probably a baptismal gift to "David Hussey Bo 22 mo 1757" whose parents were Nathaniel and Judith (Coffin) Hussey. The other for "Sarah Fish 1767" gives a date of unknown significance for her. The year saw the death of Peleg Coggeshall's first wife. Sarah became his second wife to have their first child in 1770. Peleg had bought the silversmith's house in 1763 and Jackson began his new one in 1766 to which we owe the interest he has aroused. Two spoons engraved M B differ in bowls and drops, their marks the clear one. It is thought they may have belonged to Mary Bunker, wife and widow of William and mother of the local goldsmith, Benjamin, who is suggested to have trained with Jackson. The recently submitted seventh spoon with double drop has the clear mark and two sets of initials: I P M over F C, all with slanting lines in the uprights as Jackson sometimes fancied; the small devices separating the initials are not alike. Considered to be a marrow spoon, but strange in its proportions, with a broad drop on a narrow bowl, is a normal spoon handle engraved S B/ to/E R. Only here an attributed ownership seems subject to doubt, unless the engraving not be Jackson's while the S suggests it is. Silas Bunker, whose first wife died in 1785, took as his second wife Elizabeth Reynolds too late for Jackson to have engraved it. Two spoons with broad drops are engraved D G and D C, thought to be for Deborah Gardner (1731-1812) and one of two second cousins, Deborah Coffin born in 1743 or 1746. The only unengraved spoon is the most unusual in its use of an elaborate and seemingly unique bowl swage. Its mark, like that of his largest piece, has the untidy top line. Of Jackson's hollow-ware only three pieces are known and they are characteristically New England. The author who illustrated an ungainly
THE SILVER OF JOHN JACKSON
9
teapot captioned as his no longer owns it, or knows its location. Certainly, however, its appearance indicates it could not have been made in "our" Jackson's era. His porringer, for Richard (1694-1768) and Ruth (Bunker) (16961778) Coffin, has the so-called "keyhole" handle which came into use in the 1720's. Its mark is on the back of the handle near which it has been broken on rim and body; had he perhaps drawn it a little too thin? It is patched with a riveted strip of silver inside, a very clumsy clobber of solder outside, but it is happily preserved. The two other pieces are very similar pepper boxes, one first brought to public attention by Gregor Norman-Wilcox in the magazine Antiques in 1954. He may have learned of it as a consequence of his two-part article in the same magazine in 1944 on "American Silver Spice Dredgers." There his check list showed geographical spread for these pieces: two or possibly three from Connecticut, forty-five from Massachusetts, five from Rhode Island and seven from New York. Of the last, one was from Schenectady and three were by Elias Pelletreau of Long Island. It seems to emphasize again John Jackson's New England origins. The citing of two Nantucket inventories with a pepper box shows their contemporary term. The box of known early ownership engraved A C has been men tioned for the date prior to which it must have been fashioned. The initials R F (Rebecca Barrett Fitch) for Abigail Coffin's granddaughter are scarcely more than scratched; "Maria Weeks" is in deeply cut script for her great-granddaughter; all identification is on the bottom. The second pepper box is also engraved on the bottom; both are seamed under the handle and have pierced domed covers with tiny finials. Their handles may once have been identical, the lower scroll of Abigail's is now tightly curled. The second box, now owned by the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, has small shaped plaques under the handle joinings with no sign inside of their being for repair. Perhaps the addition was a refinement on his second such box. Its engraving is definitely not in Jackson's burin, although done within his lifetime. "John Way/ To/ Anna Joy 1761" has been identified: the donor's daughter Anna married Reuben Joy in 1757. The fold-out genealogies of Nantucket families are a delight: "The Coffin-Jackson Kinship," "The Macy-Coffin Kinship," "The Bunker Connection," and "The Gardner Connection" all involve other names along the way. The book ends with Jackson's will and its probate, by Judge Grafton Gardner (1701-89), husband of the above Abigail Coffin, followed by excerpts from Land Transactions in Nantucket County Registry of Deeds, with a Bibliography which reiterates the completeness of the research.
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William Watson Engineer and Educator ALTHOUGH HIS CONTRIBUTIONS in the field of education made him one of the best known men of his day; William Watson is one of the least-known Nantucketers today. Born in the family homestead on North Water Street on January 19, 1834, he was the son of William Watson and Mary Macy, the latter daughter of Peleg and Sarah Macy, descendants of Thomas Macy, one of the great figures in the ranks of the first settlers of the Island. It was to his mother that young Watson attributed his early interest in mathematics. She was a remarkable and gifted woman, and directed the course of his studies, which included Bowditch's Practical Navigator and other volumes. Upon graduation from the Coffin School he entered upon a course of study at the Bridgewater State Normal School, from which he gained his diploma and went into teaching for two years. With the money so earned he entered Harvard College's Lawrence Scientific School, where he also taught geometry. In 1857 he was a competitor for one of the famous Boyden prizes, and was the unanimous choice of the committee for the first prize of $300. In this same year he received his S. B. degree from Harvard — summa cum laude in engineering. In the next year he took a second degree — S. B. summa cum laude in mathematics, while at the same time serving as instructor in differential and integral calculus in the Scientific School. In 1859, Prof. Watson went to Paris for further study. At this time, on behalf of the American Association for the Advancement of Science, of which group he was a recent member, he presented Madame Laplace a bust of Dr. Bowditch. After a visit to England he returned to Paris where he attended the Ecole Imperiale des Ponts et Chaussees. During his stay in Europe he made extensive tours through France, Switzerland, Ger many, and Austria, visiting technical schools and studying their methods. In 1862 he received a Ph. D. degree from the University at Jena. Returning to the United States he joined (upon election) the Society of Arts, reading before it various papers of his studies on the various technical schools in Europe. In May, 1864, a pamphlet was published on
WILLIAM WATSON, ENGINEER AND EDUCATOR
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the scope and plan for a School of Industrial Science of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology — the result of a series of conferences held by Dr. Watson, Mr. Runkle and Professor William B. Rogers. This was later incorporated in the new Institute of Technology founded in 1865. By this time Dr. Watson was a Lecturer at Harvard and had been elected Fellow of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences.
William Watson—Nantucket Scientist.
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
With the beginnings of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, Dr. Watson was appointed the first Professor at the Institute — the department of Civil Construction, later changed to that of Descriptive Geometry and Mechanical Engineering. There were no text books in this country, and in the following year, 1866, Prof. Watson prepared a treatise on descriptive geometry which was eventually used. Following an attendance at the French Universal Exhibition in Paris, in 1867, he introduced for the first time in America construction in plaster of problems occurring in masonry. He now devoted considerable time to public lectures in the Lowell series. In 1873 he married Margaret Fiske, of Boston, and in the same year was appointed U. S. Com missioner to the Vienna Exposition in Austria, and remained in Europe for several months collecting materials for a report to the U. S. Govern ment. He was also appointed by the American Society of Civil Engineers to represent them at the Paris Exposition in 1878, where he was elected a member of the French Society of Civil Engineers. The honor was repeated in 1881, 1883 and 1889. During a study of European Water Commerce, Prof. Watson prepared five essays which he delivered upon return to this country. Many honors were conferred upon him by scientific societies both in Europe and America. His authorship included papers published in the Mathematical Monthly, as well as books on civil engineering and other technical sub jects. Besides his visits to Europe he made trips to Asia Minor, Greece, Mexico and the west coast of the United States. He never forgot his early years as a student at the Coffin School, and when manual training was introduced he presented the School with four lathes operated by velocipede foot-power, and a full set of tools used in wood-turning. Among the very few Nantucket men who knew Prof. Watson in timately was Alvin Paddack, who was invited by him to stay at the Watson home in Boston, where he received instruction in isometric drawing and other technical subjects. Mr. Paddack later became an instructor at the Coffin School, where he applied these skills for many years, as well as teaching wood-working and related subjects. Prof. William Watson died at his Boston home on October 9, 1915, in his 83rd year. —E. A. Stackpole
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The Nantucket Railroad Collection Gift of Mrs. David Gray THROUGH THE INTEREST and generosity of Mrs. David Gray, of Polpis and Santa Barbara, Cal., a rare collection of material concerned with the Nantucket Railroad has been presented to the Nantucket Historical Association. This collection was gathered over a period of years by her husband, David Gray, Jr., who died a decade ago, and was a part of the decor of the Gray's summer home at Polpis. During the years in which he collected this unusual material, Mr. Gray sought and located a wide range of photographs of Nantucket Railroad scenes, including the original engine — "Dionis" — with its open-sided coach; the Steamboat Wharf Depot; the Easy Street vista; Main Street station; the Goose Pond and the Orange Street crossing; Surfside, the first terminus; the Tom Nevers depot; and, of course, the famous 'Sconset station in its several changes. All of these photographs have been carefully placed in frames of the period, making the collection unique. Among the relics of Nantucket's railroad days he located the first wooden sign for the "Nantucket Central Railroad", which hung over the entrance to the depot on the corner of Main and Candle streets. This sign serves as the centerpiece for the display of the Gray Collection now exhibited at the Peter Foulger Museum. Directly under the sign is a photograph of the Dionis and her train, which was taken by the distinguished Island photographer Henry S. Wyer in 1881. The view shows the little locomotive and coach leaving the Steamboat Wharf station and proceeding along Easy Street, outward bound to Surfside. The variety of views show the various stages of the railroad's history from its beginnings in 1881, when it first ran to Surfside, to the end of the line in 1917. Photographs of "Old No. 1" engine, the successor to Dionis, and its varied career, as well as the arrival of "No. 2" and the several incidents in her career, all graphically demonstrate the years of change. The 'Sconset station, below the South Bluff; the train coming along Low Beach into the village; the scene at Tom Nevers Head during the "land rush" period; the famous wash-out at the beach at Nobadeer; and many other events are to be found. The unusual accident on the Washington Street line is shown, when the removal of several fish plates caused the locomotive to keel over on its ,
THE NANTUCKET RAILROAD COLLECTION
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side. Fortunately, there were no injuries to either engineer or fireman, and the No. 1 engine was restored to its equilibrium on the tracks. Scenes of the old Surfside Station; the Goose Pond embankment with the last train poised; the Orange Street crossing; the "run-through barn" between Old North Wharf crossing and Shark Lane; the stock certificates issued, and other smaller bits such as the tickets, schedules, etc., are all a part of the display. The bell of the original locomotive, the Dionis, is a prize exhibit, as is the original headlight from "Old No. 1". These were among the most sought after relics of the Nantucket Railroad, and were proudly exhibited at the Polpis residence of the Grays. There are still many of the older Nantucketers who remember the days when the little narrow-gauge railroad ran between Town and the village of 'Sconset, and a viewing of this comprehensive collection will revive memories of what was once an exciting part of the Island's summer life.
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Wreck of the T.B. Witherspoon January 10, 1886 IN THE EXTENSIVE annals of Nantucket's shipwrecks there is none m o r e grim than that of the big 3-masted schooner T. B. Witherspoon, lost during the great gale of January 8-10, 1886. Held fast in the sandy shore, within 100 yards of the beach near the head of Hummock Pond (off Little Mioxes), the big schooner was doomed the moment she struck during the night of the snow-filled gale. But what was heart-rending was the situation that next morning when the Life Saving crew and volunteers on shore were forced to watch helplessly as the ship-wrecked mariners, who had taken to the rigging to escape the onslaught of the seas, gradually froze to death and, one by one, dropped to their death into the raging sea and tide. The story began on Friday, January 8, when a northeast gale, with a heavy snow, developed quickly to sweep the island. As the night wore on many residents left their homes to join the night watchmen, fully aware of the danger of fire in this wooden town. Soon after daybreak there was a brief lull, but the wind soon resumed its fury. Steamer Island Home ventured forth on its regular trip but before reaching Tuckernuck Shoal she put about and returned to her berth at Steamboat Wharf. As the day waned the temperature fell to 12 degrees above zero and the snow became sleet. Saturday dawned with the gale still raging. It was during these two days that the schooner W i t h e r s p o o n , bound up the coast from Surinam, South America, with a mixed cargo of molasses, sugar, limes, and cocoa, bound for Boston, was approaching the New England sector. With the onslaught of the gale Captain Alfred Anderson and Mate Burdick Berry took in sail and the schooner drove along under bare poles. Due to the thick snow any observations were impossible. The course was maintained throughout the morning of Saturday, the 9th, but when the wind veered into the north-northeast Captain Anderson tried to get some sail on so as to work to the eastward. At three o'clock on the morning of Sunday, January 10th, the snow lessened and a light was discerned flashing from a lighthouse. The snow flurries made it difficult to count the flashes and Captain Anderson and Mate Berry, after a conference, decided it was the light at Montauk Point. Unfortunately, this was not so - the light was Sankaty Head's flashing.
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
It was only a short time later that the blinding snow began to lessen in its fall. The gale was still raging and the cold intense. At about 4:00 o'clock the lookout shouted "Breakers ahead!" Captain Anderson rushed to the deck and ordered the fore staysail loosed and the mainsail hoisted. But the ice forming in the blocks and on the lines prevented any quick action and while the crew worked frantically the big schooner struck, gave a convulsive series of shudderings, and her forward progress came to a frightening stop. She was fast aground, not more than one hundred yards off Nantucket's south shore. At 6 o'clock that morning Patrolman Jonathan Freeman, of the Surfside Station, sighted the wreck from the beach. He alerted the Life Saving crew who hurried to the scene, dragging the life-boat behind a onehorse hitch, and arriving at the sight shortly after 7:00 that morning. Soon after striking, the waves began to make a clear sweep of the schooner's decks and all hands were driven below, where they huddled in the main cabin. Mate Berry had brought his wife and 6-year-old son aboard for the voyage, and their terror at the situation may well be imagined as they huddled with the crew in the main cabin. The situation was desperate, and the hapless mariners knew it. What must have been their thoughts as they looked across the foaming surf at the men on the beach whose endeavors meant rescue or death. The wind at gale force was blowing directly on the beach, the temperature was at 16 degrees above zero; the rigging and deck was a mass of ice and snow; and the schooner was doomed. The Life Saving crew found the task of firing a line across the schooner's deck a difficult one as the gale was right in their faces. After an hour's work they managed to get aboard two of the projectiles, with the shot-lrne attached, but the crew, numbed by the cold and clinging to a slanted and icy deck, was unable to pull the heavy hauser attached to the shot-line, and the ice forming on the line and in the blocks presented an impossible situation. The surf was a raging cauldron of twisting seas and every effort to launch the life-boat was thwarted. As the morning dragged on hundreds of watchers on the beach were forced to watch the most heart-rending of sights. One of the strongest of the schooner s crew, named John Mettis, had managed to free one of the life-lines and was hauling in the hawser for the breeches buoy when the line suddenly parted. The sudden break caught him off-balance. He lost his footing, slipped along the canted deck and went over the rail into the sea to his death. Three of his companions who had taken to the rigging,
WRECK OF THE "T. B. WITHERSPOON"
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clung there for what seemed like hours, until, one by one they were overcome by the cold, lost their desperate grip and dropped into the sea. Hidden from the view of the watchers on the beach an equally grim scene was being enacted in the cabin. Mate Berry had placed his wife and son on pieces of furniture afloat in the now flooded cabin, while he barricaded the port holes to keep the seas from washing his loved ones from their positions. The freezing cold was taking effect, however, and despite his exertions his wife gradually sank and soon expired in his arms as he tried to rouse her. His little son still managed to cling to life. In describing the terrible ordeal later, the Mate said: "The brave little fellow kept asking, 'Daddy, will God Save us?' All I could do was to hold him and assure him that God would, and he must hold on." When at length the end came, Mate Berry, overwhelmed by the double tragedy, stumbled out on the deck and making his way forward, met Captain Anderson and called to him that he had lost his loved ones: "Well, you can do no more for them," replied the Captain. "Now you must try to save yourself." Having failed in repeated efforts to launch the life-boat, a group of volunteers obtained a life-raft and managed to get it through the surf. A third line had been shot over the Witherspoon, and the volunteers at tempted to pull the raft out to the schooner. At a point mid-way the line parted and two of the crew fell into the sea, but were promptly pulled to safety and the men on the beach pulled the raft back to the safety of the beach. The nine volunteers - all veteran fishermen - were Captain Charles Smalley, Joseph M. Folger, Jr., Benjamin Beekman, Charles Cash, John P. Taber, William Morris, Horace Orpin, Benjamin Fisher, Everett Coffin. Two of these men, in later years, declared the effort was near success when the line parted by the surging of the big schooner, rolling in the seas. It was past mid-day when the completely helpless watchers on the beach watched the storm claim three more victims. Captain Anderson, clinging to the lee shrouds of the foremast, at last lost his grip and fell into the sea. The ship's boy, Nicholas, was next to drop over the side, and a few minutes later a sailor named Norcross became the third to suffer a similar death. It was a sight so terribly fascinating that years later an eye witness recalled: "We were all horrified by the spectacle - the ship lying over on her beam ends, swaying as the seas made a clean breach over her - the men in the rigging slowly freezing to death and dropping into the sea, one by one. We were helpless and in a rage because of it, and I remember I was crying just like some of the women to whom I told the story afterwards."
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
Finally, in the late afternoon, one of the lines shot over the big schooner by the Lyle Gun found a favorable position. The only two men left alive were Mate Berry and an active sailor named Charles Wulff, who made his way up the main rigging and secured the block which he had hauled from the shore. Then came the anxious wait while the two men on board slowly hauled through the seas the heavy breeches-buoy block from the shore. But the tension mounted again when the whip-line became snarled as the breeches-buoy itself was being hauled out along the hauser. Joseph M. Folger, Jr., volunteered to get into the buoy and pull himself to the schooner, hand-over-hand, along the hawser. He did reach the snarled whip line but was unable to free it and returned to the beach. Darkness was in the offing when the frantic men on the schooner at last freed the line. By the time the breeches-buoy slowly found them hauling it across the intervening seas night had fallen on the scene. On the beach the Life-Saving crew became suddenly hushed. Had the buoy reached the schooner? They strained their ears and listened. At last, through the gale, came a faint call. With caution they took a strain on the line, and soon were hauling the buoy ashore. When it appeared in the mist eager hands lifted out the solitary figure and brought him to a waiting carriage. It was Mate Berry who was the first to be rescued. Again the buoy was hauled to the wreck. Once more came the distant hail, and the men on the beach hauled with a will. As the human freight reached the breakers men rushed into the sea to pluck him from the sling and carry him to safety. It was the sailor Charles Wulff, and the man who had first secured the line in the rigging. He later stated he had insisted that Mate Berry get into the breeches-buoy first, as he believed the man would have remained on board with his wife and son had he been left behind by the first to leave the schooner. But the men on the beach stood by in the darkness until well after midnight, hoping there might be one survivor on board who could haul the buoy out again. But Wulffs story precluded this possibility, and there was no one left alive on the Witherspoon. The night passed, with only the sound of the schooner's masts tearing out and crashing into the sea. The morning dawned and with it the gale lessened. All that remained of the big three-master was a portion of her mainmast still standing above the battered hull. The wreck of the T.B. Witherspoon was only one of the many which occurred on and around Nantucket. But a half century later the story was still being recounted. And, on the mainland, one hundred miles away, a
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young minister read an account of the disaster in The Boston Globe, and was inspired by the account to write what has since become one of the best known of the old-time hymns: "Throw Out The Life Line!" During the next few days six of the seven bodies of those who had met death during the shipwreck were taken from the waters along the south shore. Nothing of any great value was ever recovered from the cargo of the Witherspoon. The big schooner went to pieces quickly, and parts of ' her deck and her spars and broken masts strewed the beaches for miles. What remained of her hull was sold at auction for $55, the purchasers being David W. and Richard E. Burgess, who also bought all rights to the cargo for which they paid $1.
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Grace Brown Gardner by Gertrude A. Pratt SO MUCH HAS been said and written about Grace Brown Gardner by her friends, townspeople and school associates. I would like to present my impressions of her human interest characteristics, beginning with her school days in Nantucket. Grace was a fine student, attaining a high scholastic level. However, singing was not one of her, shall we say, better subjects as she could not carry a tune. One day the music class was singing in chorus and there was some discord noted by the teacher. The source of the trouble was found to be Grace lustily singing - off key. In telling the story, Grace said that the teacher took her aside and diplomatically stated: "Grace, some people have a little bird in their throats to help them sing, but unfortunately, you and I do not have that bird to help us." The explanation was accepted and Grace thereafter stopped singing. Grace told of another of her teachers who announced one day that all the candy, apples and oranges brought into the class room must be shared with all the pupils. As these goodies were, at times, a rarity in several homes the pupils decided, upon consultation with Grace, that they eat them on the way to school and thus solve any problems of distribution in the class room. If this might seem a bit selfish on the part of Grace it will be remembered that surely, in later years, she gave of her vast knowledge freely to all who came to her for it. There were other school day experiences but these seemed to remain in her memory, and she always chuckled as she related them to me. In later years, Grace herself was a teacher in the 'Sconset School. She often rode back and forth to the village and return by bicycle, and on one trip a veritable gale sprang up. Grace reported that she could truly say that she was literally "blown" to 'Sconset. These trips were an achievement as there was then no bicycle path - only the paved highway. Upon her retirement to her Island home Grace introduced a course in Nantucket history in the Nantucket schools, and often declared it was a proud accomplishment as she was a graduate of the Nantucket Schools. Of special interest was the native flora and fauna, and the birds of the
GRACE BROWN GARDNER
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Island. She collected a large herbarium of native specimens of plant life, noting the places where they were found as well as identifying them. She presented the herbarium to the Maria Mitchell Association's Natural Science Department. While visiting at her home on Milk Street Grace taught me how to mount sea weeds and mosses on a piece of letter paper, giving it a real Nantucket touch. This was done on a table placed on the back porch, where she often instructed those who visited her for the proper in formation. Grace Brown Gardner, as she wished to be spoken of, was most fortunate in that both her father, Arthur Hinton Gardner, and her mother, Mary Macy (Brown) Gardner, were much interested in the history of Nantucket and the genealogy of its people. Her father was for many years a proprietor of a newspaper, The Nantucket Journal, as well as serving as the town's Representative to the General Court of Massachusetts. He was also elected the Town Treasurer and when he died in office the position was filled by his wife, by appointment. Grace compiled many scrap books, which are an extremely valuable source of Nantucket history. She delighted in receiving visitors who wanted to consult these books. This collection has been given to the Nantucket Historical Association, and represents an important research source. She also gave the Association her collection of Nantucket books, including first editions. She often inserted in these books clippings about the authors. Other volumes were presented to the Nantucket Atheneum Library. From her birth on Nantucket on February 20, 1880, Grace Brown Gardner was truly a native daughter. After years of teaching on the mainland she retired to spend her productive last years on her native isle. Let me describe a last trip to "America", as she would say, during which she attended a family reunion. It was a clear day and many relatives came to enjoy the family party. The next day we took her to the wharf where she was to embark on the steamboat for Nantucket. "That was a grand time we all had," some one remarked. "You must visit us again, Grace." Grace was silent for a while, and then said: "It was a wonderful time, and I enjoyed it. But, no, I shall not come 'round Brant Point again." She never did. Grace Brown Gardner was to stay at home per manently - a true Nantucketer and always a gracious lady.
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Presentation of Relics from S.S. Nobska A COLLECTION OF relics from the popular steamboat Nobska was presented to the Nantucket Historical Association by officials of the Massachusetts Steamship Authority in a ceremony taking place at the Peter Foulger Museum on Friday afternoon, November 19. Participating in the affair were John McCue, General Manager of the Steamship Authority; Leroy H. True, President of the Nantucket Historical Association; Adriaan Roggeveen, Nantucket Representative on the Authority's Board; Norman P. Giffin, Financial Advisor for the Authority, and for many years the Nantucket Agent for the steamship lines; Joseph Morin, who is currently writing a book in collaboration with Paul Morris on the history of the Island steamboats; and Edouard A. Stackpole, Director of the Peter Foulger Museum, and the Association's Historian. In a brief ceremony Mr. McCue turned the collection over to Mr. Stackpole, for future display at the Peter Foulger Museum, where momentoes of other steamboats which served the Nantucket line are on display. The "Nobska's"pilot house name-board, rescued after an attempt to steal it while it lay alongside the wharf here, is a prominent part of the collection, and together with the brass capstan plate, bearing the name of the vessel and other data; the Builder's Plate, affixed at the Bath Iron Works, where she was built in Maine, also with the date of her building, the boiler maker's plate, also with pertinent information; two running lights and the bow light, and the binnacle top completed the relics. When the Nobska left Nantucket under tow for her new berth on the mainland there were many on the wharf to watch the departure. She was one of the most dependable steamboats ever to run on the Island line, and began her career in these waters immediately upon her launching at Bath in 1925. As one of four vessels built for the company during the 1920's the Islander in 1923; the Nobska in 1925; the New Bedford in 1928; and the Naushon in 1929 - the Nobska was the last of these fine steamboats to cross Nantucket Sound. In contrast to the modern craft which are utilized to carry freight and passengers to the Islands, the Nobska was a graceful queen, She was built for the waters of Nantucket Sound, and her popularity was justly earned. For a number of years she operated under the name of Nan-
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t u c k e t , with her original name restored when the new steamer of that name was constructed in 1956. Now used as a restaurant in Baltimore, Maryland, she is the object of a campaign raising money to recover her as a steamboat museum. Whether or not this laudable idea is successful it is probable that the exhibit of this collection at the Peter Foulger Museum may serve as a memorial to a remarkable vessel.
Bequests or gifts to the Nantucket Historical Association are tax deductible. They are greatly needed and appreciated.
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"The Far Away Island" A Personal Remembrance by Theodore C. Wyman JUST AS THE Galapagos Islands are called by many names, The En chanted Isles, The Ends Of The Earth, and others, so too there are many names for the island of Nantucket. Among them are The Far Away Island and The Little Grey Lady Of The Sea. There have been many stories written about Nantucket and a great deal about the history of the island, so I shall not add to that. What I shall do is to write of the island as I knew it when I went there for two weeks and a decade passed before a war broke me loose from my moorings. Perhaps what I write will help to answer a question that is often asked about what there is to do on the island during the winter months. One of the first times I saw the island was when I was aboard the schoolship Nantucket of the Massachusetts Nautical School at the end of a summer cruise. The ship was a three masted barkentine that had been a naval ship in the China Squadron and had been named the Ranger when she became a schoolship. Then her name was changed to Nantucket in September of 1919, at which time the town of Nantucket presented her with a new ship's bell. She ended her career as the Emery Rice of the United States Merchant Marine Academy at Kings Point, Long Island, where she served for fifteen years as a museum ship before being sold to be broken up for scrap metal at the age of seventy-eight years. There was one more time when I saw the island of Nantucket before I went there to drop my anchor. That was at the end of a summer's work in Woods Hole when I went to the island for a few days before going to New York to look for a ship. A ship that might be going any place in the world and that happened to be going to San Francisco. What was of interest to me at the time was that I had started to read a story that last evening in Nantucket and the story was about San Francisco. So I went ashore and finished the story during the time I lived there. And all during that time, even though the island of Nantucket had touched me but lightly and I did not realize it, the island was there waiting for me to return. When I did return to the island, it was to finish some summer work for the New England Steamship Company and I felt as though I was
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coming home as I did when I stepped ashore in San Francisco. There were a few years of summer work with the steamship company and six years of full time work as well as other work on the island during those first years. There were also two voyages to make, one to the Galapagos Islands on the schooner Blue Dolphin and the other to Florida on the yacht Tropic Bird. And there was always the island to come back to. The island that one could grow to love, especially during the Fall and Winter and in the Spring. Perhaps it was the winter months that we enjoyed most as there was time then for many things aside from work. There were Sunday morning breakfasts in 'Sconset looking out over the ocean and what I called our Cotter's Saturday Nights. Nights when friends would be in for supper and each one would be working at something during the evening while we took turns reading aloud from Dickens and other old favorites. The work might range from square-knot work and wood carving to drawing and the dining room table often served as a shipyard for some ship model under construction. Then there were the evenings when friends would come for supper and we would run off motion pictures that I had taken or that someone had brought with them. They might be pictures in color of the moors in the Fall and the colors on the island are especially beautiful. Not as brilliant as on the mainland, yet with a distinctive charm of their own and in them are many lovely greys not seen elsewhere. The moors in the Fall are a breath taking tapestry of soft greens and browns with a few brilliant patches of red from the huckleberry bushes and every time that I see them it does not seem possible that they can be as lovely as they are. There was time in the Fall to roam over them and for a few beach picnics and we always knew where to find mayflowers in the Spring. Even the winter storms could be enjoyed when the surf and wild seas only emphasized the miles of water between us and the problems of the mainland. Aside from the two voyages, it was from Nantucket that I went on so many pleasant vacations after the rush of summer work. Trips to the Smokey Mountains, to Quebec and to the World's Fair in San Francisco and there was always the island to come back to for the winter months when there was never time enough for all the things that waited to be done. There was an Eskimo kayak to be built one winter and a sailboat for which I drew the plans and a model of it to make another winter. Then there was the model of a clipper ship that was well underway before it had to wait for the end of the war to be finished. Those were the years, too, when we would send to Florida for baskets of fruit to be divided between families and to Fortnum and Mason in New
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York for special delicacies to vary the winter diet. And yet all the delicacies, however delightful, could never surpass the home baked beans. Beans that would last with careful rationing so that there would be a few for breakfast until Thursday morning and then there would be the long wait through Friday until we could have more of them on Saturday. There were fish and scallops right out of the water as well as clams that we could dig and beachplum and wild grape jelly from the beachplums and wild grapes that we picked. It might seem that those were the wasted years for me in that all the experience I gained from the work there would be of no particular value to me later, yet they were years expecially rich in friendships. They were the depression years when plans could be made, but could not be carried out and when just to make a living was an accomplishment in itself. I do not know what it is that makes any certain place reach out and hold one, yet I do know that there are places that have an individual character of their own that can appeal to a person. Nantucket had that appeal to me and held me a willing prisoner. That appeal probably came in part from many things associated with the life we lived there and among the things I recall with pleasure are the time I became a ship owner and when I became a member of the Wharf Rat Club. There was at that time an old schooner named the Alice Wentworth that carried freight between the mainland and the islands and her skipper and owner, Captain Zeb Tilton, was about to lose her when he could not pay for shipyard repairs. So a corporation was formed on the Vineyard and shares were bought by people there and on Nantucket so that money could be raised to keep old Captain Zeb Tilton from losing his ship. There was no idea in the minds of those who purchased the shares that they were making a financial investment. It was just a chance to help someone whom they admired and to keep alive a chapter in a seafaring tradition that would be a sad loss if it could not continue. And yet the rewards to the shareholders were all out of proportion to the small in vestment each one made. They had a chance to follow in the footsteps of their ancestors and become ship owners and the few annual meetings aboard the schooner were treasures beyond price. They did receive a dividend of a dollar a share in 1939, but their certificates of capital stock will represent a legacy of priceless sentimental value. Captain Zeb's address now is Fiddler's Green and he went there in 1952 at the age of eighty-five. And so, even though I never sailed on the Alice Wentworth, she became one of the ships in my life when I became a shareholder in her.
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There are some things in life that one values highly and one of those things to me is membership in the Wharf Rat Club of Nantucket of which I became a member on 12 July, 1947, after I had returned from the war that broke me loose from my moorings on the island. I value it highly because of the friendship I have had with its members, people in all walks of life and all individuals in their own right. Many of them were well known in their professions and many had no claim to world renown, yet there seemed to be a common denominator that drew them to-gether and all had something of value to give in the association of kindred spirits. I do not know much of the early founding of the club other than it just sort of came into being among a group of friends, some of whom lived on Old North Wharf, who used to gather in the ship chandler's store of "Perry and Coffin", or on the dock in front of it to sit in the sun and shoot the breeze. Now it is a club to which a great many people would like to belong, but to which few have a chance to join. Membership is by in vitation if there is a vacancy and if the club members would like to have you belong. Perhaps the club would seem strange in comparison to most clubs as there is no constitution, by-laws, dues or membership fees and the board of directors is known only to themselves. There is a club motto, "No reserved seats for the mighty", and a club flag. The flag is a pennant displaying a triangular blue field upon which is super-imposed a white rat, rampant, smoking a church warden pipe and with one star for members and three for the commodore. That flag has flown in many parts of the world. It has flown over the South Pole and the schooner Bowdoin has taken it to the Arctic. It has flown over a coronation parade in London and I saw it at the masthead of an atomic submarine as she slid down the ways. Those flags have been brought back to the club and are there along with quarter boards from old sailing ships and various items brought back from all over the world. Then there was the time in the summer of 1971 when it flew in the dining room of QE 2 on a passage from England to America. It was the Fourth of July and I had considered going up on the bridge and reading the Declaration of Independence to the men on watch, but I was afraid they might get mad and sail back to England. But it was still the Fourth of July and it seemed as though something should be done about it, so I had my Wharf Rat flag hung in the dining room during lunch, and it did not seem out of place aboard a transatlantic liner. Herb Coffin was Commodore when I joined the club and his father, Captain Charles G. Coffin, was Commodore from the origin of the club
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until his death in 1932. Then Herb cued and since then there have been five commodores, Herbert L. Brown in 1957, Marcus L. Ramsdell in 1959, Arthur McCleave in 1962, Bunt Mackay in 1964 and Captain Pete Grant became Commodore in 1971. Many of the older members have slipped their moorings and sailed away. And so, to go back a few years, there came the war and I returned to the island for a part of my leave after five experiences in wartime oversea invasions. There had been no gray in my hair when I left and now it was all gray. Although I was not fully aware of it at the time, I was more or less of a complete wreck and could not sleep at night. The first real sleep I had was when I crossed the island one day and stretched out in the sun on one of the beaches, a beach so different from the war torn beaches we had left behind us. I had come back to touch home base and to draw strength from the island that had sheltered me. The island is like the inscription on an old sundial, "TIME WAS. . . TIME IS. . . .TIME IS TO BE." It was there before the memory of man, is there now and will be there for ages to come. Just as men look to the hills from whence cometh their strength, so too can they look out over the waters to the Far Away Island for another source of strength when it is needed.
"A Lane So Little Known. " Henry S. Wyer's photo of a winter landscape early in this century.
