Historic Nantucket
The catboat fleet in the basin at Steamboat Wharf known as the Adams' Slip. The catboat with the "L" on its sail was the Lillian, which sailed daily up the harbor to the Wauwinet House. October 1985 Published Quarterly by Nantucket Historical Association Nantucket, Massachusetts
NANTUCKET HISTORICAL ASSOCIATION OFFICERS President: H. Flint Ranney Vice President: Robert D. Congdon Vice President: Mrs. Bracebridge Young, |r Secretary: Richard Austin Treasurer: Donald E.Terry
Honorary Vice Presidents Walter Beinecke Alcon Chadwick
Albert Brock Mrs. Bernard Grossman
Albert F. Egan, Jr. Mrs. R. Arthur Orleans
Presidents Emeritus George W. Jones
Leroy H. True
Edouard A. Stackpole
COUNCIL MEMBERS Philip C. Murray
Edward B. Anderson Mrs. Kenneth Baird Mrs. John A. Baldwin
Mrs. H. Crowell Freeman John Gilbert
F. Philip Nash, Jr. Mrs. Alan Newhouse Francis W. Pease
Mrs. Marshall Brenizer
Mrs. Walker Groetzinger
Mrs. Paul A. Callahan Mrs. James F. Chase
Andrew J. Leddy
Mrs. Judith Powers
Reginald Levine
Charles F. Sayle, Sr.
Mrs. Carl M. Mueller
Mrs. Jane Woodruff
Mrs. George A. Fowlkes
ADVISORY BOARD Charles H. Carpenter William B. Macomber
Mrs. Charles Carpenter Mrs. Thomas Loring
Stuart P. Feld F. Blair Reeves
STAFF John N. Welch, Administrator Victoria Taylor Flawkins Bruce A. Courson Curator of Collections Curator of Museums & Interpretation Jacqueline Kolle Haring Edouard A. Stackpole Curator of Research Materials Historian Louise R. Hussey Leroy A. True Librarian Manager, Whaling Museum Elizabeth Tyrer Wilson 8. Fantom Executive Secretary Plant Manager Peter S. MacGlashan Elizabeth Little Registrar Curator of Prehistoric Artifacts Thomas W. Dickson Lucy Bixby Merchandise Manager Assistant Manager, Museum Shop Oldest House: Mrs. Abram Niles Hadwen House-Satler Memorial: Mrs. Richard Strong Whaling Museum: James A. Watts, Alfred N. Orpin, Mrs. Edward Dougan, Gerald Ryder Greater Light: Dr. Selina T. Johnson Peter Foulger Museum: Mrs. Margaret Crowell; Alcon Chadwick, Everett Finlay, Marjorie A. Burgess Macy-Christian House: Mrs. Helen S. Soverino Old Mill: Millers: Richard Swain, Thomas Seager Fair Street Museum: Mrs. William Witt, Mrs. Kathleen Barcus * • • Historic Nantucket • * * Edouard A. Stackpole, Editor Merle T. Orleans, Assistant Editor
HISTORIC NANTUCKET Published Quarterly and devoted to the preservation Nantucket's antiquity, its famed heritage and its illustrious past as a whaling port.
Volume 33
October, 1985
of
No. 2
CONTENTS Nantucket Historical Association Officers and Staff
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Editorial - "The City in the Ocean"
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Fred Parker - "The Hermit of Quidnet" by Edouard A. Stackpole
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"Off to California" The Voyage of the Ship by Edouard A. Stackpole
Henry Astor
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An Unprecedented Indicent on Centre Street "A Whaling Man's Needlework" by Helen Wilson Sherman
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"Nantucket, Far Away and Long Ago" by Joseph Warren Phinney and his Granddaughter Diane Taylor Brown
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Bequests/Address Changes
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"Obadiah - His Lay of Old Nantucket"
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Historic Nantucket (USPS 246460) is published quarterly at Nantucket. Massachusetts by the Nantucket Historical Association. It is sent to Association members and exra copies may be purchased for $3.00 each. POSTMASTER: Send address changes to: Nantucket Historical Association, Box 1016, Nantucket, Ma. 02554. Membership dues are: Individual $15, Family $25, Supporting $50, Patron $100, Life $300. 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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"The City in The Ocean" OVER A CENTURY and a half ago, Daniel Webster, the great statesman of his time, visited Nantucket for the first time, and, upon his return, declared his surprise to find it a "city in the ocean". Today, visitors coming here for the first time comment on finding a small city when they expected a town. On the other hand, those returning for a visit after several years between trips have expressed some dismay at the changes which have created a city atmosphere in this old town. This comment is in keeping with the opinion of many Islanders and summer residents who have witnessed the alterations in the town dur ing the past decade and more. The question could be summed up in two phrases: "Whither Nan tucket?" "What price popularity - what price prosperity?" During the summer season of 1985 Nantucket has become an over crowded, bustling, uncomfortable town. The element of noise — especially at night — has been a dismaying factor for visitors and residents alike. Too many people; too many automobiles and mopeds; too much clatter and clutter in the streets; too many motor vehicles in vading the beaches and destroying many sanctuaries; too many hous ing developments being built, despoiling the landscape, defacing the priceless assets of the "commons". We are faced with the inevitable fact that these conditions are not in the best interests of Nantucket. Who stands to gain from the business activity — who are involved in certain areas where the Island is being exploited? How does the Town gain from such conditions? Does this represent a true prosperity? Now is the time to reflect on the present state of things. Is this an old town wishing to retain the original atmosphere of an historic past? Or are we rushing to destroy the assets which once created a certain quality of historic charm that gained us fame as that unknown "city in the ocean". -Edouard A. Stackpole
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Fred Parker — "The Hermit of Quidnet" by Edouard A. Stackpole ALTHOUGH HE HAS been dead for more than a century, the man who was familiarly known as "The Hermit of Quidnet," Frederick F. Parker, is still recalled by writers who like to review unusual figures of the past. We know some of the stories of those other individuals who chose to segregate themselves from society and exist in a solitary way, but we know as little now as we did in 1880 of Fred Parker who established himself at his hermitage in the hamlet of Quidnet on the eastern shore of Nantucket. A few facts remain concerning his early life in Nantucket. As a young man he came here to live with relatives. In the prosperous years of our whaling prosperity in the 19th century, he became an apprentice to a carpenter and later opened his own shop on South Water Street. He met a Nantucket girl, became engaged and they were married when he was 29 years old and she was seventeen. His shop was burned by the Great Fire of 1846, and it is not known that he had it rebuilt, but pro bably resumed his trade as a carpenter. Little is known about the Parkers during the next decade, but it has been recorded that the couple separated just before the outbreak of the Civil War. At this time he made the decision to take up residence at Quidnet, where he built a small, one-room dwelling, under the brow of the hillside sloping gently to the pond, close to where the sand hills served as wind-breaks against the northeasterly gales. Here he lived the rest of his life, a solitary individual, with only a few friends or rather acquaintances. There were a number of families living at Quidnet and Peedee, on the other side of the pond, at this time, and Parker may have been hired to do some carpenter work for them, but little is known. When Nantucket emerged from the Civil War era, and the Islanders were discovering the new economy known as the "summer business", it became a custom for the visitors to explore the Island, riding behind a pair of horses to 'Sconset, Madaket, Quaise, Polpis and Quidnet. The Nantucketers' build-up of 'Sconset as a favored summer place was a feature of this period. The town's farm at Quaise was undergoing changes, after the old Asylum was moved into town. At Quidnet the Hermit, Fred Parker, was an object of much curiosity and also a subject for journalistic essays.
Fred Parker The Hermit of Quidnet
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
Among these interesting essays was a long article written for the New York Sun. It gave a somewhat fanciful account of Parker's life, but its leaning on the romantic took away from what could have been more attention to the salient points of his experiences of Nantucket. These facts would have added much to the real story of his life. Parker, now a true eccentric, with his long white beard and hair, seated in a rocking chair in front of his little Quidnet home, captured the imagination of writers and artists. But the opportunity to learn more about him was lost as few of the writers asked the pertinent ques tions concerning such matters as his early life on Nantucket, his mar riage, and other facts. Though a recluse, he was found to be a pleasing conversationalist, well read, and willing to discuss subjects related to philosophy or religion, if such came up. The little house he had built revealed signs of his physical decline in his last years at Quidnet, but the roof was still tight, and the iron stove provided warmth as well as cooking for his simple needs. A feature of his domicile was the number of ship's quarterboards from wrecked vessels which adorned the walls of the one room, while a number of casks and barrels were arranged around the front of the structure. As one of the best known "characters" of the 1870's, Fred Parker shared the public eye with "Billy" Clark, the Town Crier, who lived a longer life, probably because he was more active. As a hermit, Parker was a more mysterious figure, whose reputation increased as the visiting journalists found his life more a part of a little known Nan tucket. Despite his wishes to live his life out at Quidnet, his failing health made it necessary that he be removed to the Asylum on Orange Street, and here he died in his 80th year. It was stated that he had left a collection of writings, which he sometimes spoke of publishing in book form, but the material has un fortunately been lost or destroyed. He had expressed a desire to be buried in Quidnet, but if this was carried out it was not recorded. Frederick F. Parker's reasons for isolating himself from his home and friends in town to take up an abode in a rude hut and become a recluse was never fully explained by his contemporaries. It was something more than an ecccentric whim, although from the cir cumstances it would seem that he enjoyed the conversations and ques tions of his visitors, and appeared to have adopted the role of an old philosopher. If his writings could have been preserved it is probable we could have learned a great deal from the mysterious figure chiefly known as the "Hermit of Quidnet".
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"Off to California" The Voyage of the ship "Henry Astor" from Nantucket in 1849. By Edouard A. Stackpole THROUGH THE INTEREST and kindness of Mrs. Helen Hussey Ludolph, of Sonoma, California, the Nantucket Historical Association has been most fortunate in acquiring the logbooks of three Nantucket ships, as well as typescripts of the logbooks of two other Island whaleships. The logbooks are those of the ship Richard Mitchell, Capt. Robert McCleave, 1848-1852; the Oliver Crocker, Capt. Robert McCleave, of New Bedford, 1854-1858; and the ship Henry Astor, Cap tain George F. Joy, of Nantucket, 1849, which is a journal kept by Henry P. McCleave, on a voyage to California from Nantucket. The two typescripts are copies of the ship Loper, Capt. Obed Starbuck, 1824-1826, and of the ship Rambler, Capt. Robert McCleave, 1838-1842. These priceless records of Nantucket's maritime past were presented by Mrs. Ludolph on September 12, at a quiet ceremony held in the parlors of the Jared Coffin House, and then placed in a vault at the Peter Foulger Museum. A time span of more than a century and a quarter had elapsed since they had left Nantucket for their interim home in California. Now back in the old "home port," they are valuable additions to the collections of logbooks and journals which have become so important to the maritime history of Nantucket. The Journal of Henry P. McCleave for the voyage of the Henry Astor, from Nantucket to California in 1849, is especially interesting. The news of discovery of gold in the hills and dales around San Fran cisco had reached Nantucket at a particularly crucial time. The town that whale oil had created had recently suffered a catastrophe when the Great Fire of 1846 had burned out the business section of Main Street Square and spread across the complete range of the wharves, destroying cooper shops, sail lofts, oil refineries and candle houses. The competition with other whaling ports had become a challenge, and despite the success of the "Camels," that helped float the ships over the handicap of the shoal Nantucket Bar, Nantucket faced a grim prospect. With the news from California, the gold-rush adventure appealed to Nantucketers disheartened by the future for the old whaling town. Several owners sent letters to intercept their ships on the west coast of South America, and ordered the shipmasters to sail for San Francisco. From October, 1848, to December, 1849, ships leaving Boston, New York and Fall River carried Nantucket passengers. In the year 1849 alone there sailed from Nantucket fourteen sliips, brigs and schooners bound around Cape Horn to San Francisco. First to sail from this har-
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
bor was the Aurora, Captain Seth M. Swain, which sailed on January 9,1849. The owners of the ship, Charles & Henry Coffin, planned to sell the ship when she reached San Francisco, with all hands free to leave her when she reached port. The second Nantucket vessel to sail directly to California was another of the Coffin brothers' vessels — the Henry Astor — which was commanded by Captain George F. Joy. One unusual feature of the voyage was the creation of a company, the Astor Mining Company, in which owners, officers and crew of the ship were partners, with the in terests of the owners being protected by Captain Joy, who also was to serve as the Company treasurer. A Constitution was drawn up, with the regulations carefully written and all legal clauses included. When Henry P. McCleave began his Journal of the voyage of the Henry Astor he was just nineteen years old. The care and attention to detail that becomes a feature of his account is a tribute to his ex perience and judgement, and it is apparent that he had some seafaring background. His first entry on March 12,1849, draws a clear picture of the exciting beginning of the voyage, and he described this important day: "First part of these 24 hours commences with light airs from westward. At 2 PM left Nantucket Harbor in the Camels, towed out by the steamers Massachusetts and Telegraph. We were cleared from the Camels about 3 PM and towed out as far as the end of Great Point Rip, by the Telegraph, and the Telegraph left us about 7 o'clock the same evening with a light breeze from the Southwest, which remain ed through the night. At 7 AM a shoal of porpoises played around our bow, and we struck one and lost him by the iron drawing " The "Camels" were a type of floating dry-dock, invented a few years earlier by Peter Folger Ewer, which enabled a fully loaded whaleship to be towed out of or into the harbor over the shoal stretch of Nantucket Bar. The description provided by Henry P. McCleave's Journal gives an excellent summation of the procedures and time in volved in the operation, in this case a most satisfactory one. On Wednesday, March 14, the Henry Astor was well out to sea, with all sail set and on a course east-southeast. On that day the Mc Cleave record gives her Latitude at 40° 10' North, and her Longitude at 66° 10' West. With a strong northeast breeze the course to the southeast was maintained, although a strong southwest gale forced them to shorten sail for a day. A two-line quotation appears at the foot of the en-
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
try for March 21, reading: "Long may my children this Journal keep, To remember their father's travails on the deep." On April 15, 1849, in the afternoon, during light airs, they sighted and spoke the brig Solon, Captain J.W. Boles, of Mattapoisett, return ing home from an Atlantic voyage. (The brig reached her home port on July 29.) The Henry Astor crossed the Equator on April 19, being in Longitude 21° 21' west at this time. Tragedy visited the ship on May 13, on her sixty-first day out of Nantucket. Continuing on their south by east course, they found the wind increasing to a point where it was necessary to double-reef the topsails. The complete entry for that day gives the grim picture: "While close reefing in the fore-topsail, Mr. Charles B. Myrick, one of the crew, fell from the fore-topsail yard, and struck his back against the foreyard and went overboard. We lowered the larboard boat and went after him, but he sank before reaching him. He passed by the ship lying on his back, apparently lifeless, for ropes were thrown upon him and he took no notice of them, nor never made any movement after falling. At 6:00 PM took in our fore and mizzen top sails " The Henry Astor continued on her steady course, alternating from the south by west to southwest, proving to be an excellent vessel, and made good progress through the rest of the month and into June. As she came up to the Brazil Banks, she took soundings and found a depth of 55 fathoms on June 8, 87 days out. The first land seen on the east coast of South America was at Cape Watchman, a little south of Cape Blanco, Argentina, and they promptly changed course and stood off at the southeast. By observation the Latitude was determined to be at 48° 55' south, and the Longitude at 65° 25' west. It was the 89th day out. On June 14, they met the Obed Mitchell, a former Nantucket whaleship, then of New Bedford, which was also bound for California, and was 74 days out. Shortly after the two vessels spoke each other, the lookout sighted Cape St. John, on Staten Island, bearing west, some 30 miles away.This was a familiar landfall for vessels approaching Cape Horn. A large Boston ship was then sighted, the Somerset, bound for California, carrying six topsails. In the vicinity of Cape Horn, the Jour nal noted: "So ends this day off Cape Horn, with all night and no day. Sun rises at one-quarter to 9 AM and sets at one-quarter past 3 PM."
THE VOYAGE OF THE HENRYASTOR
13
With the wind against them, they wore ship and headed west north west, and 8 PM wore ship again. During the night there was a more favorable slant of wind, and during the next six hours they sighted two ships, a schooner and a brig, all making a passage around Cape Horn. The wind veered from northwest to southwest, with gales and calms, hail and snow, and a heavy swell. On their 100th day out, they managed to make some westering, and the next observation confirmed that they had rounded Cape Horn at last. Snow squalls were the order of each day for the rest of the week, but it was estimated that they had sailed 210 miles on a course which slowly carried them on a northwest by north course. All hands cheered up, and the Journal's heading for the days now began with the bold sentence: "From Nantucket to San Francisco." On June 30 — on their 109th day out — the ship had continued to make excellent progress, but a series of north by west gales forced them to take in their topsails, and they doubled-reefed the foresail and lay to for the remainder of the day. The wind veered more to the west the day following and they were able to maintain a more northerly course. On July 2, at seven in the morning, they made the Island of Juan Fernandez, bearing northeast, then some 40 miles distant. The wind be ing fair they made for the island, with the intention of "Going ashore in order to get wood and water, and allow the passengers with an excur sion". It was 3 AM when they tacked ship heading north-northwest, Juan Fernandez then being some 10 miles ahead. After approaching the island they lay off-and-on, waiting for an opportunity to land, but with the wind increasing they were not able to lower a boat for the lan ding. The Journal continued thus: "It being the wish of the passengers and crew to make sail and pursue our voyage, and Captain Joy also agreeing, we made sail accordingly." On July 5 the ship's company celebrated the "Glorious Fourth" and the crew and passengers enjoyed "dancing and eating cake". The Latitude was reckoned at 31° 09' south, and the Longitude at 79° west. The weather became most pleasant, and the northerly course was aid ed by a strong west-southwest wind. On July 9 they were 115 days from Nantucket, and the favorable weather continued. The Journal's con cluding entry for that day reads: "So ends one of the few days left for us to be in bondage!"
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
That there was another whaling company represented in the passengers was revealed by an entry on July 12, which stated: "The Sherburne Mining Company employed in fixing their boat." On the following day the company was "still engaged in fitting out their boat." The weather continued pleasant and warm, and the ship had all sail set. August saw the good weather continuing. A school of sperm whales at tracted the attention of all hands, a reminder of the ship's original business. They gained well on their course, and on August 10 their Latitude was figured at 16° 45' north. Two more weeks of good weather, with only a few rain squalls to cause any problems, found them bowling along at a good rate. On August 31 Captain Joy changed course while in Latitude 36° 25' north, and the ship was put on a course due east, tacking on occasion to catch the slant of the wind. On the next day they sighted a bark steering in the same direction, and on the following day a ship also headed to the east was discerned. For the next few days several ships were sighted, all on the same course as the Henry Astor. September 7,1849, was an exciting day. They came up to a bark heading in the same direction as themselves, and they sent a boat, manned by the crew, to intercept the bark. At 3 o'clock that afternoon the boat returned with a quantity of news. The bark they had been able to reach proved to be bark Griffon, of Newark, N.J., under Captain R.M. Halsted, and they were 173 days from home. The Griffon reported having heard or seen twenty-one ships and barks during her voyage, including a number of whaleships. The Griffon had stopped at Juan Fernandez and obtained a list of vessels that had touched there up to July 16. A bit of excitement on July 9th was occasioned by Alexander Coffin falling overboard. Fortunately it was a calm day, "and he was in no hurry about getting back aboard". A porpoise was sighted and a boat lowered to kill him and provide some tender meat for the hungry peo ple on the ship. On September 11th, the Latitude having been determin ed as 38° 10' north, the course became changed to east-southeast, and later southeast. The weather now became heavy with fog, and con tinued for a few more days. The brig Rudolph, of Boston, bound for San Francisco was sighted, 201 days out. The Henry Astor lay to for some hours, then continued, alter nating the course from southeast to east-northwest, with heavy fog. At 8 AM on September 16 they saw land bearing due east, fifteen miles away, "and steered for it, and at 11 AM they dropped anchor in Yerba Cove at San Francisco, 188 days out from Nantucket." The Journal ends with this entry. But a notation has been entered
THE VOYAGE OF THE HENRY A S T O R
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at the end of that particular final day. It reads: "October 9th, 1876. Father left home to make Nantucket a visit after being away from it 22 years, 6 months and 26 days. Little did he think when he was writing these lines at the top of this page it would be so long before he would again see the Island. It was a pleasant day when he left here. He went by railroad." The H e n r y A s t o r was built in New York City as a merchantman in 1820. She was bought as a whaler for Hudson, New York, in 1831, and sailed in that year under Captain William Rawson, on a Pacific whaling voyage, from which she returned in 1835. Sailing again that same year under Captain Rawson, the ship returned in 1839, and was sold to William R. Easton at Nantucket. Her first voyage from Nantucket was in 1840, under the command of Captain Seth Pinkham, who died on the passage home in 1844. She sailed again that same year under Captain Thomas Coffin, 2d, returning in 1848. Within a few months she was be ing fitted out for her last voyage by the firm of Charles and Henry Cof fin. Upon her grrival at San Francisco she was sold. Captain George F. Joy selected Alexander H. Coffin as his First Mate. The second mate was Obed Fosdick, and John G. Chase was the 3rd mate. The ship's physician was Isaac Thompson. Alvin N. Fisher was the Agent for the Astor Mining Company. The crew numbered ten men: the passenger list — 46.
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An Unprecedented Incident On Centre Street OVER A CENTURY AGO one of the most unusual incidents in the life of the Town took place on one of the busy streets of Nantucket - Centre Street. It is doubtful if the occurrence could have been reported by one of the local journalists as well as it was reported by a visitor, and his account is hereby presented without any alterations: "Sitting one pleasant afternoon at the hotel win dow - the Ocean House, by the way, kept by J. Robin son, and one of the most agreeable places we ever stopped at - we heard a slight commotion in the street, which was the nearest approach to an excitement on the island. On looking out to the street we saw a bloomer girl in full sail, followed by some twenty boys, hooting and shouting in full cry. 'There she blows! Hurrah!' But none of these crys moved the bloomer girl. "She sailed on with head erect and a firm and determined tread. She was a young woman or forty or forty-five or thereabouts. The procession which follow ed her might have been her children, for aught this deponent knows. She was old enough for it. Her countenance was far from prepossessing - singular, ain't it, that all bloomer girls are alike in this par ticular - but her form was the perfection of 'propor tions.' She was the finest formed woman we ever saw, if what we saw was the genuine article. "Her dress was a fringed hat, tight fitting frock, which nearly reached the knees, pants, white stock ings on a dainty foot, and gaiter boots. The material was shining black silk, an outrage against taste, for she glistened in the sun like patent leather. She must have been a strong-minded woman, and if she found comfort in her singular attire we are perfectly willing, and have nothing more to say."
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A Whaling Man's Needlework by Helen Wilson Sherman IN 1933 WHEN MY FAMILY celebrated the two hundredth birthday of our house at 25 Hussey Street ("Wisteria Lodge"), the Abel Gardner house, we invited many of the Wharf Rats as well as other guests to the party. Among the guests was John Cross, retired whaling man who ran a machine repair shop in the building on Old North Wharf, now called the "Enterprise". Johnny loved children, and as I was one of seven, and my mother, Fanny Wilson, had died that year, Johnny was especially nice to us. He was overwhelmed to be included in a bash put on by off-islanders, being a very modest man, and afterwards when I bicycled down to the wharf, where we had a boathouse (now the "Sequin") Johnny called me over to his shop. "Here, girl," he said, "Come here, I have something for you." What he gave me was a handmade dark-stained wooden box, with brass corners, about the size of a typewriter case. In the inside of the lid, (the interior was painted a pea-soup green) under glass, was his prize sample of tufted pillow covers, in a daring combination of bright yellow and pink tufts, with one pale blue ribbon, one lavender ribbon and two ribbons in different shades of pink. It was bordered by aqua colored cotton threads, which were fringed on the ends as were yellow and pink threads, the whole piece mounted on bright yellow cotton, which could be sewn on a square pillow. I was overwhelmed. This tufted pillow cover by John Cross is now on display at the Peter Foulger Museum. Johnny at that time was no longer young (he died sometime in the 1940's) and had lost a thumb. His gnarled huge hands were deep imbed ded in engine grease. He wore glasses so dirty one couldn't see through them and most of the time he wore only a cotton undershirt with sleeves, and dirty pants held up by suspenders. Father Griffin, of St. Mary's Church, used to sit with him by the hour. At the end of his working days my uncle Austin Strong, Com modore of the Yacht Club, gave Johnny a yachting cap and a blue jacket. His face was wizened, like a dried apple. He was clean shaven and had a nose that curved down almost to his upper lip. I think he may have sported a mustache, hidden by his hooked nose. He was truly a Dickens kind of character. He had sailed, I believe, on theSunbeam out of New Bedford, as did Nelson Ewer, and I do not know when he "came ashore", but probably when the whaling period slacked off in the very early nineteen hundreds. I think (from memory) that he was English with a Portuguese mother. I know he had a sister in New Bedford and I think at one time
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HISTORIC NANTUCKET
he was married and his wife passed away. In the twenties and thirties Old North Wharf was still a viable dock for partyboats and fishermen who used the shanties for their gear, and who sat on the deck of Perry & Coffin's store, which was ruled over by Herbert H. Coffin, Commodore of the Wharf Rat Club. Austin Strong introduced a little fleet of catboats with colored sails called "Baby Rainbows" because there were five, still left, of the larger Rainbow boats that raced at the Yacht Club. Our family had two Baby Rainbows, the Kittiwake, and the Emerald, and Johnny Cross hauled them out of the water every September when we had to go back to Providence to school. We would come to him for slight repairs, and there was always a circle of sailing children around Johnny's shop hav ing something fixed. Johnny never sat at the Wharf Rat Club, preferring his own huge open doorway where he'd sit when he wasn't working. On one side was a huge fishnet which he said was for catching sturgeon. He made orange sodapop and bottled it, storing it in a high loft near the hot ceiling, and we were always hearing "bangs" when the bottles blew up. He also made fish chowder into which he put whole fish, scales and all, laced with dried celery he hung overhead. He had a tiny kitchen and everything in it was black with smoke and grease. The chowder was always on the stove in a huge pot and we were enticed to have some. I suppose my mother would have shrieked at the dirt but somehow the bowls were clean, and I enjoyed the chowder but hated having to spit out scales and bones and fish lips. He probably swallowed them all. He told me that he made the pillow covers for the Brockton Fair every year, and took them up in the wooden box, which has since disap peared. Johnny's ideas of colors for these shams were totally gypsy. But he must have sold them successfully for he went to the Brockton Fair every year for a long time. It is rather nice to think that he did this to help some poor members of his family, as he never left the island other wise, except on rare occasions, to visit his sister in New Bedford. I could never understand how such clean needlework and tufting came from so blackened a shop. Johnny was only five feet five inches tall, and had a moment on the stage in the 1929 Nantucket Follies, held at the Yacht Club, with other whaling men singing sea chanties with Captain B. Whitford Joy at the helm of a stage deck of a whaling ship.
Pastel tufted pillow sham, made by John Cross. On display at the Peter Foulger Museum. Photo by Rob Benchley
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Nantucket, Far Away and Long Ago by Joseph Warren Phinney and his Granddaughter Diana Taylor Brown THESE ARE EXCERPTS from the autobiographical reminiscences of Nantucket which my grandfather, Joseph Warren Phinney, dictated to my Grandmother a year or so before he died. My Grandfather was born on Nantucket Island in 1845 and died at the end of 1934 in West Medford, Massachusetts. I'm adding here a few more dictated anecdotes which were not included in the printed manuscript. Orphaned before he was four years old, he moved to Sandwich, Massachusetts, with his grandmother and grandfather at the age of seven or eight. The Cape Cod Advocate was a newspaper published in Sandwich in 1860 by Matthew Pinkham and Benjamin Bowman. Bowman, the printer, enlisted in the army in 1861, and Joseph Warren Phinney got his job at $3.00 a week. Thus began the work that he was to follow the rest of his life. Although brought up in the Quaker faith, he twice enlisted in the Union Army. Once he was returned because of his age, but the second time he was old enough to become a corporal with Co. A, 5th Regiment Infantry. After the war he went on with journalism and the printing business, living in both the middle west and New England. Later on my Grandfather became a well known authority on type foundings, and became manager of the American Type Foundry. I remember, as a child, sitting on his lap, as he sang sea chanties to me or told stories of the Civil War — how he once saw Abraham Lincoln who visited his regiment stationed outside of Washington. My grand father did not inherit the love of the sea from his forebears who were often whalers and captains in the China trade, or from his own father, a captain who lost his life in the burning of his ship on Lake Erie. My Grandfather recalled to his family that an uncle of his had a fleet of whalers and was very wealthy. When he was ten years old, this uncle tried to get him to "ship before the mast". When he wouldn't go, the un cle had no further use for him.
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Nantucket, Far-Away and Long Ago Why I was bamboozled into talking with your mother, of a miscellaneous account or, story of how and when I came to life and con tinued to live until the present time, is a mystery. It is a story for those who know how small a thread it was strung on. Part of it I saw, and part of it I was told. About my first consciousness is hearing that my Cape Cod father, Warren Phinney, and my Nantucket mother, Henrietta Jane Smithi, were married on the deck of a ship captained by my father. They have only meant names to me. The young mother passed out of life as I came into it.2 Before I was four years old my father's effects were sent to my grandparents on Nantucket by a Cleveland Lodge of Odd Fellows. He died in the burning of the Propeller Goliath, on Lake Erie.3 About the first relative I recall was an uncle, who returned from a Cape Horn voyage. He was fond of me, apparently, and psed to fill a coat-pocket with sugar pipe-stems, long and hollow, so I could draw air through them, playing they were cigars, until they so melted that they disappeared. This seems a trifle to remember, but everything is serious with a young one, and those sugar pipe-stems have stayed with me all this time. When a little older my first tragedy came, and I plunged into crime. Wednesday afternoon was the Cent School holiday. I planned to spend it on the wharf with my chum, Arthur Folger. Before leaving, my Grandmother was to send me on an errand — for one pound of saleratus sand one-quarter of a pound of cream-of-tartar, a total of ten cents. She sent me to the cupboard for the money, and as I counted over the ten big copper cents, the devil suggested that one copper cent would never be missed by my Grandmother, and Arthur and I could have a spree with it. I pocketed the extra copper, and as I passed my Grand mother on the way out, she asked me how many pennies I had in my pocket. I promptly lied that I had only ten. The wise old lady put her hand into my pocket, and counted twelve cents. It was the surprise of my life! I had planned to steal only one cent, and there were two. She started Arthur home, and I was put to bed, where I wrestled like a criminal with my crime. I had no dinner, but was called for supper, and the family stopped eating as I took my seat next my Grandfather, full of shame and fear. My Grandmother was a a good sport, with a Quaker's belief in silence, and practiced what she preached. ••• •
In the prosperous days of Nantucket the boys and men sailed the world over in search of whales. The business and the responsibilities of
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the island were handled by women, with numerous outgrowths natural to such conditions, and found only on Nantucket. One of these was "The Cent School". A woman, frequently a young girl, collected from the neighborhood the small children, for the relief of the mothers, charging a cent for the forenoon care and a cent for the afternoon care. It made for a small cash income, worth while. Opposite where I lived was such an institution, and I naturally became a scholar. There was usually a short recess for the children's relaxation, and I recall that during one of them I smelled from across the road my Grandmother's gingerbread. I scurried across and found a pan of piping-hot gingerbread, and promptly absorbed one of the most generous slabs. My Grandmother, unfortunately for me, saw the theft, but not quick enough to stop it. The road was deeply rutted, and I had short legs. I tumbled into every rut, and as I crawled out, that part of my anatomy most in display received a hard and corrective hand, which lifted me along lively until I got to the steps of the school, and there being so many steps and such hearty smacking, I stumbled into the school-room roaring lustily and demoralizing the scholars, but hanging onto the gingerbread! With the fairness of a perfect grand mother, there was no further punishment at the time, and no reference to it ever after. The end justified the means. ••••
The absence of men voyaging for whales threw the business and social life of Nantucket into the hands of women. Their opportunities for amusement were of the neighborhood — meetings for candy frolics, quilting-bees, church sociables, etc. In business the women made journeys to Boston to replenish their stores, Centre Street being the original "Petticoat Lane". One boat a day from the mainland brought the mail about noon time. Back of the Post Office was a tall pole, and after the mail arrived and was ready for delivery, a black ball was hoisted to the top of the pole to notify the Nantucketers that the mail was being distributed. One could stand on the steps of the Pacific Bank and see the crowd on its way to the Post Office, with only an occasional boy or old man in the procession. Whale ships were always at the wharf, under repair or being outfit ted, but the crews and mechanics were not active in town affairs. Boys were always on the wharf to pick up bronze and copper scraps to trade with Dick Hosier for nuts and candy. A baker at the head of Steamboat Wharf kept me supplied with
Joseph Warren Phinney as a young man.
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ship-bread baked as hard as brick — the kind Cape Homers took out for whaling crews. Irecall a ride on a Nantucket calash6 — a two wheeled affair, with no seats, but with a rope lashed on each side to hold onto in riding. It was my first and only voyage to the Sheep-Shearing, Nantucket's great merry-making event, usually lasting the week. At the entrance to the grounds was an old blindman, bare-headed, seated on a keg, fiddling one tune, and repeating monotonously "To you can, to you can't, all the way to shearing." Barney Gould, a Cape Cod itinerant, looked after Blind Frank's comfort as far as might be. In those days the United States mail was not reckonedreliable, and Barney delivered letters between Boston and Provincetown, and, he claimed, as far as San Francisco, for his uniform price of ten cents. Barney is credited with making the journey to California with five let ters at ten cents each, bringing back acknowledgments of the letters, and also samples of black sand showing flakes of gold. AfterIcame to Boston he brought me a letter from my Grandmother, and refused the quarterIoffered him, his charge being ten cents only. One of my uncles sailed the China seas — the term for deep-sea merchant sailing. The China trade was a large part of Newburyport and Salem prosperity, in which big fortunes were accumulated. Uncle Billy was a Nantucketer, and planned to visit his home at the end of each voyage. Aunt Mary was his wife — the salt of the earth, a natural nurse, to whom the neighborhood turned for sicknesses and births. One room inher house was devoted to all sorts of herbs from all parts of the world, warranted to cure what ailed you. Uncle Billy had supplemented her assortment with strange remedies collected during his voyage. Aunt Mary was monstrously stout. Once a year my Grandmother gathered her three sisters to an anniversary dinner.Irecollect Aunt Mary in a beautiful green silk dress, an embroidered red shawl, and a purple calash7, with a string pulled to protect her face from the sun. These wonderful garments were testimonials of Uncle Billy's affection and artistic selection. She always came in a two-wheeled cart, seated in a chair, as no other vehicle was big enough! It was a Nantucket opportunity to sometimes order special dinner sets from China, in original styles of decoration. Aunt Mary wanted a new set. She decided to have the different pieces bear a selection from the Bible. To prevent possible mistakes she wrote the verse, designated where it must be placed, and cautioned with the words "Put it here." Uncle Billy took the copy and the instructions to China, and on his next voyage brought back Aunt Mary's set, proud and happy! It was the
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most famous dinner set that ever arrived from China! The Chinaman was absolutely literal, and he had followed copy exactly — Aunt Mary's handwriting, her Scriptural verses, and her directions. The piece I remember as most satisfactory was in Aunt Mary's peculiar writing, "Suffer little children to come unto me. Put it here." Returning from one voyage, Uncle Billy brought home a talkative parrot. Aunt Mary hung the cage in the sitting-room, the bird wander ing where it pleased. Her ambition was to teach it "Now I lay me down to sleep." Sometimes Aunt Mary, with Uncle Billy at home, would show off the parrot, holding it on her wrist, and the bird would get as far as "Now I lay me down to sleep," and Uncle Billy would pull a tail feather, and out would come "Damn you, go to hell!" — indicating its fo'cas'le instructions. • •••
When I was about eight years old, my grandparents moved from Nantucket in a schooner, with all their household effects, landing at Buzzards Bay. From there they teamed to North Sandwich. At the end of some months another move was made to my Grandfather's birth place in Spring Hill, a Sandwich village. On the morning we were to sail from Nantucket our cat appeared with five kittens. She was conscious that we were to leave the house, and as we started for the wharf she picked up one of the kittens in her mouth, carried it a short distance, dropped it, and went back for another, until she had brought together all five. This she repeated at in tervals until she landed them all on the wharf. As we boarded the schooner she stood there and miaowed pathetically her Good-bye. Finally my Grandfather took her along. In our back yard was an old-fashioned, tall, wooden pump. One morning a neighbor's dog chased our cat until she landed on top of the pump. The dog jumped and barked in an effort to reach her. Getting tired of the dog and the noise, she watched her opportunity, and landed on top of him, putting her claws into his shoulder and back. Yelping, he started for home, and as they passed under the top rail of the fence, she adroitly jumped off and watched the dog disappear. She was a great rat-catcher, always bringing her game to my Grandmother's bedroom window and miaowing until told she was a "Good Pussy," when she left contentedly. It was necessary to get rid of her. Tying her in a bag, loaded with a big stone, I took her a mile from home, and dropped her in a deep creek to drown. When I got home she was at the back door, waiting for me.
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The string had loosened, and she got out of the bag all right. I tried once more. I took the cat in the engineer's cab by train to Wareham, some thirty miles away, dropping her at the station. This time it took her between two and three days to reach home again. We decided at length to keep her until she should pass out without violence. Her name was Jenny Lind. ••••
I found these two additional recollections of my Grandfather which were omitted from the manuscript printed by my Grandmother for her family after his death. "The irresponsibility of sailors is well-known. They will stay indefinite ly ashore, but when the mood strikes them, they will pick up a berth, and go to sea. E. Snow, who left his tools where he dropped them, went to sea, and was never heard of again. On the beach was his branding iron, just as he left it. "Captain Pollard was 'gum-shoe' man of the town. The boys were sup posed to be in the house by nine o'clock, and he used to make a tour of the town with a long library pole with an iron hook, under his arm. He was a short fat man, jolly, loving the good things of life, and they used to say Aunt Mary, his wife, who had been a tailoress, when he needed a new pair of breeches laid him down on the cloth and marked him out on it. When he wore out the knees he turned them round hind side fore'most. Once a year on the anniversary of the loss of The Essex he locked himself in his room and fasted — of course he could have lived on his fat." This later bit about Captain Pollard was probably omitted by my Grandmother, because until relatively recently The Essex disaster was rarely discussed amongst Nantucketers. (As a child I was told not to mention it to natives of the island.) Only by chance when doing some genealogical research did I find out that I had two ancestors who were indeed survivors of that ill-fated vessel. Diana Taylor Brown • • ••
Reference Notes 1. Henrietta Jane Smith was born in Nantucket in 1822. The name of the ship on which they were married on June 3,1844 was the "Lavinia", named after Cap tain Phinney's deceased wife.
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2. The Pollard papers state that Henrietta actually died of typhus on September 14,1845. 3. Joseph Warren Phinney was born on March 25,1845. We were always told he had been born on George Washington's birthday, February 22,1848. (There was a notable inclination amongst the Phinney family to take several years off their age.) The "Goliath," also referred to as the "Golath," Goliah," and "Golinth" was built at St. Clair, Michigan, in 1846 and actually lost at Thunder Bay, Michigan, (Lake Huron) November, 1851. The builder was Wesley Truesdale, derided as a visionary in maritime circles. 4. Miriam Smith, born 1797. 5. Saleratus - aerated salt, which is baking soda. 6. calash - a light low-wheeled carriage, with a top or hood. 7. calash - also a woman's folding bonnet.
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Obadiah - His Lay of Old Nantucket Some folks is alrays cruisin' round In search of new surprise An' some keeps busy plannin' out Fer mansions in the skies, But, bein's I'm jest a common man, Says Obadiah Brown, Why, all I want's a roostin place In old Nantucket town! Some people has an appetite Fer city life an' wealth An' some is alrays doctorin' An' chasin' after health, Till Boom! 'long comes a motor car An' flattens of 'em down But there's a safer roostin' place In old Nantucket town. Some folks go up to Boston Fer Culture, Art—an' Beans, Come back an' talk philoserfy (An' Lord knows what it means!) I never wade beyond my depth, For I don't want to drown, So just give me my roostin' place In old Nantucket town. Some people's alrays whittlin' 'Bout other folkses sins, 'An 'tis with these self-righteous ones That scandal oft begins; I calkerlate a hearty laugh Works better than a frown, An' makes a cheerful roostin' place In old Nantucket town. If ever I be called aloft, An' grow some useful wings, I'll oft come back to take a look At old familiar things, Then you may twang your golden harp An' you may wear your crown, But let me keep my roostin' place In old Nantucket town! Henry S. Wyer
