CALIFORNIA CLIPPERS OF 1851 AND THEIR COMMANDERS--A DAY ON BOARD THE
“WITCH OF THE WAVE”
A little more than sixty thousand tons of shipping had been launched
from the shipyards in and near New York during the year 1850, and over
thirty thousand tons were still under construction there when the year
closed, while the total tonnage of vessels built in the United States
that year was 306,034 tons.
At this period the California clippers increased rapidly in size. Ships
of a new type from 1500 to 2000 tons register, of which the _Stag-Hound_
was the pioneer, were now being built, and ship-builders were called
upon to deal with the problem of fitting wooden spars and hemp rigging
that would stand the stress and strain of the enormous amount of canvas
that these powerful vessels were expected to carry. The rigging and
handling of this new type of long-limbed clipper, with her unexplored
peculiarities, gave ship-builders and sea-captains some serious thinking
and the ship lovers of South Street something to talk about and argue
over.
Thirty-one California clippers were launched during the year 1851, and
almost all the large ship-yards along the Atlantic seaboard were
represented by one or more. Donald McKay built the _Flying Cloud_,
_Flying Fish_, and _Staffordshire_; William H. Webb, the _Challenge_,
_Invincible_, _Comet_, _Gazelle_, and _Sword-Fish_; Fernald and
Pettigrew, of Portsmouth, the _Typhoon_; Jacob A. Westervelt & Sons, the
_Hornet_ and _N. B. Palmer_; George Raynes, the _Wild Pigeon_ and _Witch
of the Wave_; Smith & Co., of Hoboken, the _Hurricane_; Perrin,
Patterson & Stack, of Williamsburg, the _Ino_; Briggs Bros., of South
Boston, the _Northern Light_ and _Southern Cross_; Hood & Co., of
Somerset, the _Raven_; J. O. Curtis, of Medford, the _Shooting Star_; J.
Williams, the _Tornado_, Isaac Taylor, of Medford, the _Syren_; Trufant
& Drummond, of Bath, the _Monsoon_, and Jacob Bell, the _Trade-Wind_.
It would be impossible to name the handsomest of these ships, for while
they were all of the same general design, each possessed her special
type of beauty; and beauty, as we all know, is elusive, depending
largely on fashion and individual taste. In order to attract the
favorable attention of shippers and to secure the highest rates of
freight, it was necessary that these ships should be handsome as well as
swift. Ship-owners were content to spend large sums of money, not only
upon refined decoration, which was but a small portion of the expense,
but also in carefully selected woods, such as India teak and Spanish
mahogany for deck fittings, and in the finest shipwright’s and joiner’s
work about the decks, which were marvels of neatness and finish.
Ship-builders certainly had every incentive to exercise their best
skill upon these vessels; they received pretty much their own prices for
building them, and each ship, as she sailed out upon the ocean, held in
her keeping the reputation of her builder, to whom a quick passage meant
fame and fortune. Six of the clipper ships launched in 1851, the _Flying
Cloud_, _Comet_, _Sword-Fish_, _Witch of the Wave_, _Ino_, and _Northern
Light_, established speed records that have not yet been broken, and as
time rolls on, the probability that they ever will be, becomes less and
less.
The _Flying Cloud_ was originally contracted for by Enoch Train, the
good friend of Donald McKay, but while on the stocks she was sold to
Grinnell, Minturn & Co., under whose flag she sailed for a number of
years. Mr. Train used to say that there were few things in his life that
he regretted more than parting with this ship. She was 1783 tons
register, and measured: length 225 feet, breadth 40 feet 8 inches, depth
21 feet 6 inches, with 20 inches dead-rise at half floor. Her main-yard
was 82 feet and her mainmast 88 feet in length, and like all the large
clippers of her day, she carried three standing skysail yards; royal,
topgallant and topmast studdingsails at the fore and main, square lower
studdingsails with swinging booms at the fore; single topsail yards,
with four reef bands in the topsails; single reefs in the topgallant
sails, and topsail and topgallant bowlines.
She was commanded by Captain Josiah Perkins Creesy, who was born at
Marblehead in 1814. Like most boys who were brought up along the coast
of Massachusetts Bay, he began his career by being skipper and all
hands of a borrowed thirteen-foot dory, with the usual leg-o’-mutton
sail, and steered by an oar over her lee gunwale. In these dories water
was carried in a strong earthen jug with a stout handle to which a tin
drinking-cup was usually attached, while a wooden dinner-pail, such as
the Gloucester fishermen used in those days, contained provisions. When
the rode line was coiled down clear with the killick stowed away
forward, and the dinner-pail, wooden bailer, and water jug had been made
fast with a lanyard to the becket in the stern sheets, the famous Cape
Ann dory was about ready for sea.
Joe Creesy was a genuine boy, large and strong for his age, freckled,
good-tempered, and fond of rowing, sailing, and fishing. When he got to
be thirteen or fourteen years old, he used to get some one to lend him a
dory, and in this, during his summer vacation, he would make short
cruises to Beverly and sometimes to the neighboring port of Salem. Here
he would loiter about the wharves, watching an Indiaman discharge her
fragrant cargo, or perhaps some ship fitting out for another voyage to
India or China; and he would gaze up in wonder and admiration at the
long tapering masts, with their lofty yards and studdingsail booms, and
what appeared to him to be a labyrinth of blocks and slender threads.
The ships’ figureheads, especially those representing warriors and wild
animals, pleased Joe mightily, and the spare spars, gratings, capstans,
boats, guns, and shining brass work, all delighted his heart.
Occasionally he would behold a sea-captain who had really sailed to
Calcutta and Canton, and the bronzed mariner was to him a being quite
apart from other mortals.
At that time Salem retained much of the spicy, maritime flavor of the
olden days, and these pleasant summer cruises to the old seaport
naturally captivated the boy’s imagination, until he yearned for the
time when he, too, might stand upon the quarter-deck in command of a
noble ship. It would, of course, have been sinful to keep a boy like
this on land, so he was permitted to follow his inclination and ship
before the mast on board of a vessel bound for the East Indies. He
advanced steadily through all the grades on shipboard, and became a
captain at twenty-three.
When Captain Creesy was appointed to command the _Flying Cloud_, he was
well known in New York, as he had commanded the ship _Oneida_, for a
number of years in the China and East India trade, and bore a high
reputation among ship-owners and underwriters, many of whom were his
personal friends and associates.
The _Flying Fish_ was owned by Sampson & Tappan, who, with George B.
Upton, were the leading Boston ship-owners of their day, and between
them owned the largest and finest clipper ships belonging to that port.
These firms were composed of men in the prime of life, who enjoyed
owning fast and handsome vessels. They cared for nothing but the best in
design, construction, and equipment, and fitted out their ships with
spare gear, stores, and provisions upon a most generous scale. The
_Flying Fish_ was 1505 tons register and measured: length 198 feet 6
inches, breadth 38 feet 2 inches, depth 22 feet, with 25 inches
dead-rise at half floor. Her commander, Captain Edward Nickels, had
sailed out of Boston for a number of years in command of the ship _John
Quincy Adams_, and was a fine seaman and navigator. He was fond of
entertaining his friends while in home and foreign ports, and his jolly
little lunches and dinners were regarded as models of refined
hospitality on shipboard. Commander John A. H. Nickels, U. S. N., is a
son of Captain Edward Nickels.
Mr. Webb’s _Challenge_, a still larger merchantman than had yet been
constructed, was regarded with pride by the shipping men of New York.
The _Challenge_ registered 2006 tons, and measured: length 230 feet 6
inches, breadth 43 feet 6 inches, depth 27 feet 6 inches, with 42 inches
dead-rise at half floor. Her mainmast was 97 feet and mainyard 90 feet
in length, and the lower studdingsail booms were 60 feet long; with
square yards and lower studdingsails set, the distance from boom end to
boom end was 160 feet. She carried 12,780 running yards of cotton
canvas, which was woven especially for her by the Colt Manufacturing
Company. Her mainsail measured: 80 feet on the head, 100 feet on the
foot, with a drop of 47 feet 3 inches, and 49 feet 6 inches on the
leach. She had four reefs in her topsails, and single reefs in her
topgallant sails, and carried skysails, studdingsails, and ringtail. She
was owned by N. L. & G. Griswold, of New York, and was commanded by
Captain Robert H. Waterman, late of the _Sea Witch_.
The _Invincible_, owned by J. W. Phillips and others, of New York, was
1767 tons register, and measured: length 221 feet, breadth 41 feet 6
inches, depth 24 feet 10 inches. She was commanded by Captain H. W.
Johnson, a gentleman who possessed a merry wit and a vivid imagination.
Some of his experiences by land and sea, as related by himself, were
certainly startling, and he told them with a minuteness of detail and an
earnestness of manner that carried conviction equal to the most
realistic illusions of the drama. There was one story about a mutiny on
board the British brig _Diadem_, of which vessel Johnson said he was
second mate. This craft carried a Lascar crew, and was in the Bay of
Bengal, bound from Calcutta to Hong-kong with a cargo of opium, when a
mutiny broke out in which all hands took part with such ferocious valor
that the second mate and the serang, both badly wounded, were the only
survivors.
The listeners are shown the dead bodies of Europeans and Asiatics, lying
about the blood-stained deck under the fierce rays of the southern sun,
and we breathe the tainted air, while chattering cormorants and
screeching fishhawks tear the thin clothing of the corpses into shreds
and fight with claw and beak over the decaying flesh. Johnson and the
serang, so widely separated by blood, language, and religion, now united
by a bond of common suffering, help each other to crawl into the caboose
for shelter from the heat and from the birds of prey. Now we hear the
gentle chafing of the gear aloft, and the lazy slatting of the sails, as
the brig rolls upon the long, glassy swell; we see the sun sink beyond
the ocean’s rim in a glory of gold and purple that illumines the zenith
and turns the sea into a lake of fire; and we feel the benediction of
the cool twilight and whispering breeze.
In the silence of the night, the two men, weak from loss of blood, drag
themselves aft to the deserted cabin; Johnson lowers himself down the
companion and gropes his way to the pantry, where he finds food to share
with his companion. In the captain’s cabin he finds a decanter of brandy
and a tumbler in the rack at the foot of the berth; he fills the glass
and pours the spirit down his parched throat to brace his shattered
nerves, then fills the glass again and takes it to the serang, but the
faithful follower of Mahomet refuses to lift it to his burning lips. We
live with them as they work their little vessel back to the muddy waters
of the Hooghly and sight a pilot brig lying at anchor on her station,
and their joy is ours when the pilot, with his leadsman, servant, and
boat’s crew, comes on board. Again these unfortunate men, haggard and
still suffering from their wounds, are being tried in an Anglo-Indian
Court of Justice under a charge of murder on the high seas, and we hear
the judge pronounce their solemn sentence of death.
The scenes to which I have referred were so real that it seemed as if
Johnson, while describing them, must have believed this story himself,
and it was interesting to note the effect upon those who heard it for
the first time, when, after giving a circumstantial account of the
miraculous escape of the serang and himself from the Calcutta prison
during the night before they were to be hanged, he would cheerfully
remark, “Well, now, I call that a pretty good yarn to spin out of
nothing.” Then some one, perhaps a lady, might say, “Why, Captain
Johnson, is it not true?” and he would smile pleasantly and reply,
“True? Why bless your soul, I never heard of a brig called the _Diadem_,
and never was in Calcutta in my life.” He had a number of these stories,
and in China we never tired of listening to them.
Captain Johnson was an uncommonly able man and a most agreeable
companion. He remained in command of the _Invincible_ for several years,
and in the early sixties he took in succession three frail wooden
side-wheel river steamboats, the _Fire Dart_, _Fire Cracker_, and _Fire
Queen_, from New York round the Cape of Good Hope to China, with no
accident or mishap--a remarkable achievement. In 1866, Captain Johnson
was the navigator, but not in command, of the yacht _Vesta_ in her race
with the _Henrietta_ and _Fleetwing_ across the Atlantic.
The _Comet_ was 1836 tons register, and measured: length 229 feet,
breadth 42 feet, depth 22 feet 8 inches. She was owned by Bucklin &
Crane, of New York, and was commanded by Captain E. C. Gardner, late of
the _Celestial_, in whose hands she gained a high reputation for speed.
The _Sword-Fish_ was owned by Barclay & Livingston, of New York, and was
1036 tons register; length 169 feet 6 inches, breadth 36 feet 6 inches,
depth 20 feet. Although not so extremely sharp as the larger ships built
by Mr. Webb during that year, she was quite as handsome, and while
commanded by Captain Babcock she eclipsed them all in speed.
Captain David Sherman Babcock, brother-in-law of Captain N. B. Palmer,
was born at Stonington in 1822, and came of a distinguished family, his
father being Major Paul Babcock and his grandfather Colonel Harry
Babcock of Revolutionary fame. He received the usual New England school
education of those days, which appears to have been a sufficient
equipment for some of the most useful men that the United States has yet
produced.
As a boy David developed a strong desire for a seafaring life, which
cannot be wondered at, as at that period Stonington and the neighboring
town of Mystic were flourishing seaports, whose ships sailed to every
quarter of the globe, and whose jovial mariners kept the social
atmosphere well charged with shadowy visions of strange lands, ancient
temples, pagodas, palms, and coral isles lying in distant tropical seas.
The departure of a ship with colors flying, the crisp, incisive orders
of her captain and mates, and the clomp, clomp, clomp, of the windlass
pawl, the songs of the sailors heaving up anchor, the hum of the running
gear as it rendered through the blocks, and the music of their straining
sheaves to the last long pulls on sheets and halliards, were a more
potent means of recruiting bright, young boys, soon to become mates and
captains of American ships, than all the press-gangs that were ever
heard of.
So it came about that young Babcock, at the age of sixteen, was allowed
to ship as boy before the mast with Captain Nat Palmer on board the
_Hibernia_, and later he sailed again with Captain Palmer as an officer
on board the _Garrick_. After making voyages to India and China on board
of various ships, he was appointed at the age of twenty-five to command
the ship _Charlestown_ on a voyage to Callao and Lima. In 1850, Captain
Babcock married Charlotte, the youngest daughter of Joseph Noyes, of
Stonington, and W. I. Babcock, the well-known naval architect and
engineer, who first introduced the scientific construction of steel
vessels on the Great Lakes, is their son.
The _Typhoon_ was owned by D. & A. Kingsland, of New York, and was
commanded by Captain Charles H. Salter, who was born at Portsmouth in
1824, and an ancestor of his, Captain John Salter, commanded a vessel in
the European trade during Colonial times, and for generations the
Salters had sailed out of Portsmouth in command of ships. Captain
Charles Salter went to sea at an early age, and at twenty-two commanded
the ship _Venice_ and later the _Samuel Badger_.
The _Typhoon_ was 1610 tons register, and measured: length 225 feet,
breadth 41 feet 6 inches, depth 23 feet. She was fully rigged on the
stocks and was launched with skysail-yards aloft and colors flying.
Before loading for San Francisco she was sent by her owners to Liverpool
and made the passage from Portsmouth during the month of March in 13
days, 10 hours from wharf to dock. She frequently ran 15½ knots by the
log on this passage, her best day’s run being 346 miles. At Liverpool
she attracted much attention, as she was not only the first American
clipper, but also the largest merchant ship that had ever been seen at
that port.
The _N. B. Palmer_ was 1490 tons register, and measured: length 214
feet, breadth 39 feet, depth 22 feet. She was owned by A. A. Low &
Brother, and was commanded by another brother, Captain Charles Porter
Low. He was born at Salem in 1824, and when a child removed with his
parents to Brooklyn. At any early age he manifested a decided liking for
ships and the society of sailors, and much against the wishes of his
parents, he determined to go to sea. In 1842 he shipped as boy before
the mast on board of the _Horatio_, with Captain Howland and made the
round voyage to China. He made a voyage to Liverpool with Captain
Griswold in the _Toronto_ as ordinary seaman, and was an able seaman on
board the _Courier_ to Rio Janeiro. He then sailed as third, second, and
chief mate of the _Houqua_, with the brothers, Captain Nat, Alexander,
and Theodore Palmer, and at the age of twenty-three took command of that
ship. As we have seen, he also commanded the _Samuel Russell_ on her
first voyage to San Francisco.
The _N. B. Palmer_ was perhaps the most famous ship built in the
Westervelt yard. In China she was known as “the Yacht,” and with her
nettings in the tops, brass guns, gold stripe, and her lavish
entertainments on the Fourth of July and Washington’s Birthday, she well
deserved the title. Her captain was a princely host, as well as a
thorough seaman, and a fine navigator. A full-rigged model of the _N. B.
Palmer_ was exhibited at the Crystal Palace, London, in 1851, and
attracted much attention as a fine example of the American clipper-ship
type.
The _Hurricane_ was owned by C. W. & H. Thomas, of New York, and
registered 1607 tons. She had the reputation of being the sharpest ship
ever built at or near New York, and she carried plenty of canvas, with
Cunningham’s rolling topsails, being one of the first American vessels
so fitted. Across the lower part of her foretopsail she carried her name
painted in large black letters that could be read much further than any
signals and looked very smart and shipshape. Her commander, Captain
Samuel Very, was born at Salem in 1815, and was a son of John
Crowninshield Very, a mariner who had sailed on many a brave Salem ship.
Among other experiences, he was one of the survivors of a shipwreck in
mid-ocean during the year 1810, when he was picked up by a passing
vessel after twenty-three days in an open boat. Admiral Samuel W. Very,
U. S. N., is a son of Captain Samuel Very, and was born at Liverpool
while the _Hurricane_ lay in the Mersey.
The _Northern Light_, of 1021 tons register, measured: length 180 feet,
breadth 36 feet, depth 21 feet 6 inches. She was a very sharp ship below
the water-line, with 40 inches dead-rise at half floor, and full,
powerful lines above water and on deck. She was built by the Briggs
Brothers at South Boston, and owned by James Huckins of Boston. Mr.
Huckins was a jolly, kind-hearted gentleman whom every one liked. His
house-flag was a white field, swallowtail, with a blue star in the
centre, and when he took his two sons into partnership, he placed two
exceedingly small blue stars in the upper and lower luff of the flag, as
he remarked, “to represent their interest in the business.” This,
however, was his joke, as he was most liberal in every way. After this
ship had made her celebrated record passage from San Francisco to
Boston, Mr. Huckins usually closed his discussions upon the speed of
clipper ships by saying, “Well, anyway, none of them can beat my
_Northern Light_.”
The _Trade Wind_ measured: length 248 feet, breadth 40 feet, depth 25
feet, and was 2030 tons register, being 24 tons larger than the
_Challenge_. Those two ships were the largest clippers that were ever
built at or about New York, and with the exception of the _Ocean
Monarch_, a packet ship of 2145 tons register, built by William H. Webb
in 1856, were the largest sailing ships ever constructed at that port.
The _Trade Wind_ was an exceedingly sharp and handsome ship, and
attracted a great deal of attention. It was estimated that more than
thirty thousand persons gathered about Jacob Bell’s shipyard at the foot
of Houston Street, East River, one bright morning in August of that year
to see her launched. She was owned by W. Platt & Son, of Philadelphia,
and was commanded by Captain W. H. Osgood, late of the ship
_Valparaiso_.
The _Nightingale_, one of the most beautiful clippers launched in 1851,
was not built for the California trade, but was originally intended for
a yacht. This ship was constructed by Samuel Hanscom, at Portsmouth,
with the intention of carrying passengers to the World’s Fair, held in
London during that year, and was fitted with extensive and
[Illustration: The “Nightingale”]
luxurious accommodations for that purpose, her between-decks being given
up to large saloons and staterooms. It was proposed, after her arrival
at London, to exhibit her in the Thames as a model American clipper
ship, and no expense or skill was spared to make her a worthy
representative. She was 1066 tons register, length 178 feet, breadth 36
feet, depth 20 feet, with 36 inches dead-rise at half floor.
Unfortunately, when the _Nightingale_ was nearly completed, and ready
for launching, her owners fell short of money. Mr. Hanscom, however,
carried out his contract, and the ship was finished and then put into
the hands of Governor Goodwin, of Portsmouth, to dispose of, each
sub-contractor agreeing to accept his _pro rata_ share of the proceeds.
She was taken to Boston and there attracted the attention of Sampson &
Tappen, who were so well pleased with the ship that they gladly paid the
sum of $75,000 for her. This left the sub-contractors, such as
sparmakers, sailmakers, riggers, and blockmakers, an additional profit
beyond their contract, and Mr. Hanscom also realized a larger amount
than he would have received under the original contract. So great was
the excitement over the news from California, and so keen the demand for
clippers at this time, that almost any of them could have been sold for
a substantial advance upon their contract price. Those were the palmy
days of the ocean carrying trade, and at no period before, or since,
have ships yielded such golden harvests to their builders and owners.
The _Witch of the Wave_ registered 1494 tons, and measured: length 202
feet, breadth 40 feet, depth 21 feet, with 40 inches dead-rise at half
floor. Her mainmast was 90 feet and her mainyard 81 feet in length.
Though built at Portsmouth, she was owned by Captain John Bertram and
Alfred Peabody, of Salem, and was the pride of that ancient seaport. It
was usual in those days for owners to entertain on board their ships
when favorable opportunity offered, so the trip of the _Witch of the
Wave_ from Portsmouth to Salem to obtain her register was made an
occasion of festivity.
The first of May was the day selected, but lowering clouds and squalls
of wind and rain decided Captain Bertram to postpone the cruise until
more favorable weather, and those of his guests who had appeared upon
the scene were rewarded by an opportunity to examine the ship at their
leisure. They found her a very handsome vessel, with grace and beauty in
every line and curve of her hull. Her decks were remarkably clear, with
plenty of room for working ship, and the between-decks had more than
ample head room and were well ventilated. Her figurehead represented a
young woman partially clad in gossamer drapery of white and gold, with
one shapely arm extended and her small bare feet lightly stepping upon
the crest of a wave, while the stern was ornamented with a seashell in
which a child was being drawn by dolphins. These designs were executed
by John W. Mason, of Boston, and were of decided artistic merit. The
cabins and staterooms were finished in the most luxurious manner, the
wainscot of the main cabin being of rosewood, birdseye maple, satin and
zebra wood, exquisitely polished, with cornices and mouldings of white
and gold.
After an inspection of the ship lunch was served, and Ephraim F. Miller,
Collector of the Port of Salem, proposed the following toast: “Success
to the newest and youngest of the Salem Witches. She perhaps includes in
her composition an equal amount of craft with her unfortunate
predecessors. Had they possessed a proportional share of her beauty, we
are confident that the sternest tribunal before which any of them were
arraigned, would never have had the heart to subject a single one to the
trial to which their successor is designed--the Trial by Water.” This
sentiment was received with applause by the company, who then separated,
some returning to Salem by train, while others remained over night, to
be ready for the next day in case the weather improved. In the evening
the Raynes Mansion was the scene of generous hospitality.
During the night the sky cleared, the sun came up warm and bright with a
pleasant northwesterly breeze, and the early morning found Portsmouth in
a state of bustle and excitement. Wagons laden with hampers, bags, and
boxes of good things, with plenty of ice to keep them cool, were
unloaded alongside the ship, and presently the _R. B. Forbes_ appeared
steaming up the river with a big bone in her teeth, the embodiment of
energy and strength. The morning train came in, bringing a large number
of men and women, from Boston, Salem, and Newburyport, who, with the
Portsmouth guests, made a distinguished company of more than two
hundred persons.
At about eleven o’clock, everything being ready, the _Witch of the
Wave_, with colors flying and the Boston Cadet Band on board playing
“The Star-Spangled Banner,” was towed out into the stream amid the
shouts and cheers of a multitude of people, who thronged the wharves and
shipyards along the river. After passing through the Narrows and
rounding New Castle Point, the _R. B. Forbes_, which had been towing
alongside, took her hawser out ahead and shaped a course for Cape Ann,
which brought the wind well over the starboard quarter. The breeze had
freshened, though the sea was still quite smooth, and this, with the
clear, blue sky and bright sunshine, made a day altogether too fine to
be spent on shore.
Many of those on board were interested to see what effect some canvas
would have on the new clipper, so Mr. Raynes said to Captain Bertram
that he thought it might perhaps be a good plan to set some sail, “just
to assist the tow-boat a little.” Captain Bertram, with a twinkle in his
eye, said he thought so, too, and gave orders to loose the topsails,
jib, and foretopmast staysail. The _Witch of the Wave_ had a crew of
Portsmouth riggers, shipped by the run to Boston, and it did not take
them long to put the topsails on her. As soon as the yards were braced,
she began to dart through the water like a fish, and soon ranged up on
the weather beam of the _R. B. Forbes_, the hawser towing between them
with the bight skipping along among the blue waves in showers of
sparkling spray. On board the _R. B. Forbes_ the safety valve was
lifting, with steam at thirty pounds pressure murmuring in protest to
the breeze. There was great joy on board the _Witch of the Wave_, with
clapping of hands and waving of handkerchiefs, while the band struck up
“A Life on the Ocean Wave.” The log was hove, and she took nine and one
half knots off the reel. The topsail yards were then lowered on the
caps, and the reef tackles hauled out, yet with only this small canvas,
the _R. B. Forbes_ did not have much towing to do.
After rounding Thacher’s Island, a banquet was served on tables in the
between-decks, which were decorated with the ensigns of all nations, and
at the close of the entertainment speeches were made by E. H. Derby, a
grandson of Salem’s great merchant of that name, Charles H. Parker,
Henry N. Hooper, and the Hon. Charles W. Upham; then the following
resolution was adopted with hearty cheers:
“Ship _Witch of the Wave_,
“Off Salem Light, May 2, 1851.
“At a meeting of invited guests, held this afternoon, it was
unanimously
“_Resolved_--That the ladies and gentlemen here assembled
gratefully acknowledge the courtesy, kindness, and generous
hospitality of Captain John Bertram and the other owners of the
_Witch of the Wave_, on this festive day, and tender their best
wishes for the success of this noble vessel.
“E. H. DERBY, _Chairman_.
“CHARLES H. PARKER, _Secretary_.”
After this, Jonathan Nicholas, of Salem, recited the following impromptu
lines:
“I wonder what’s the dreadful row
They’re kicking up in Portsmouth now!
The people running up and down
Crying ‘All Salem’s come to town!’
Clear the track, the ship is starting!
Clear the track, the ship is starting!
Clear the track, the ship is starting!
And Portsmouth hearts are sad at parting.
“They say a man came down to-day
To carry the _Witch of the Wave_ away;
And the people think he oughtn’t oughter
Just because he’s been and brought her.
“They called it rainy yesterday,
But I know better, anyway;
’Twas only Portsmouth people crying
To see the good ship’s colors flying!
“But Captain B. said, ‘Hang the sorrow!
The sun is bound to shine to-morrow.’
And when he speaks it’s no use talking--
So the clouds and the blues, they took to walking.
“And so to-day the sun shines bright,
And Salem sends her heart’s delight;
And the good ship flies, and the wind blows free,
As she leaps to her lover’s arms--the sea!
“They have crowded her deck with the witty and wise,
The saltest wisdom and merriest eyes;
And manned her yards with a gallant crew
That it tickles her staunch old ribs to view.
“They say she’s bound to sail so fast
That a man on deck can’t catch the mast!
And a porpoise trying to keep ahead,
Will get run over and killed stone dead.
“Then here’s a health to the hands that wrought her,
And three times three to the mind that thought her
For thought’s the impulse, work’s the way
That brings all Salem here to-day.
“Clear the track, the ship is starting!
Clear the track, the ship is starting!
Clear the track, the ship is starting!
And Portsmouth hearts are sad at parting.”
Repeated rounds of applause greeted this effusion, and the company went
on deck where music called the dancers to their feet. The wind had died
out, and as the sun began to set in the west, the _Witch of the Wave_
anchored in Salem harbor. The day’s pleasure was brought to a close by a
portion of the company singing these lines of Whittier’s that had been
set to music for the occasion:
“God bless her wheresoe’er the breeze
Her snowy wings shall fan,
Beside the frozen Hebrides
Or sultry Hindostan!
“Where’er, in mart or on the main,
With peaceful flag unfurled,
She helps to wind the silken chain
Of commerce round the world.
“Her pathway on the open main
May blessings follow free,
And glad hearts welcome back again
Her white sails from the sea!”
The guests were landed in boats at Phillips’s wharf, in time to reach
their homes by the early evening trains, and on the following day the
_R. B. Forbes_ towed the _Witch of the Wave_ to Boston, where she loaded
in Glidden & Williams’s Line for San Francisco, under the command of
Captain J. Hardy Millett.