A Whaling Community.--Interest felt for absent Ones.--The first
Intelligence from the Whaling Fleet.--California Mail.--
Further News from the Islands.--"Missing Ships."--No Report of
the Citizen.--No Letters.--Fears as to her Safety.--When
last spoken with.--Either lost or frozen up in the Arctic.--
Supposed Fate of Officers and Crew.--Distressing Suspense.
--Hoping against Hope.--Prayer answered.--The first
Intelligence from the Citizen.--Joy in Families.--Captain
Norton's Arrival at Home, and subsequently the Arrival of his
Officers, belonging to this Place.
In a community like ours, in which the chief and principal occupation
of the male portion of it is in the whale fishery, there is scarcely a
family, and perhaps not one, but has some near or more remote relative
absent at sea. It is, therefore, by no means surprising that more than
ordinary interest should be felt and manifested in behalf of those who
"do business upon the great waters."
In some towns upon the seaboard, the inhabitants are engaged in other
kinds of fishery, such as the cod and mackerel fishery; but from the
port of Edgartown not a solitary vessel of this description sails. It
is wholly whaling, with but few exceptions in case of those who are
engaged in the merchant or freighting service, and they sail from other
ports.
As a general thing, the boys and young men contemplate whaling as
chiefly worthy of their emulation and pursuit. It is identified with
their first impressions; and subsequent years only tend to deepen those
impressions, and ripen them into irrepressible desire and relish for
the whaling business.
A very large proportion of captains and officers belonging to this
place and other parts of the island sail in ships owned principally
both in New Bedford and Fairhaven. Indeed, they have contributed in
no small degree to the commercial prosperity of those places. It is
worthy of remark, however, in passing, just to state that the number
of vessels connected with the business of whaling, belonging to this
place, has doubled within four years. This shows an active spirit of
enterprise which we trust will be largely increased in coming years.
The first partial intelligence from the northern whaling fleet usually
arrives at home ports some time in the month of October. The early
arrival of a ship at the islands, or at some port on the Pacific, from
the whale ground, furnishes this report as to the general success of
whalemen about the middle of the season--whether the "catch" has
been good or moderate, very good or deficient. A few scattering letters
are also brought by this early means of conveyance, which, being
deposited in the mail, soon find their way across the isthmus, into the
hands of relatives and friends at home.
About this time, solicitude begins to be apparent in the inquiries made
respecting absent husbands, sons, relatives, and townsmen, as to the
probable results of the "whale season," how the ships have done, and
the health and lives of those who are abroad.
Every California mail will, therefore, for months to come, be looked
for with increasing interest, because it may be the bearer either of
joy or sorrow to many hearts and family circles.
In the month of November, still further intelligence is received from
the whaling fleet; previous reports are corrected, and additional ones
are given. The first section of the fleet has already arrived at the
islands.
In the months of December and January, the mail brings still additional
news, and more correct than hitherto. The great majority of the
ships that intended to touch at the islands on their return from the
north are reported at this time. The ordinary vehicles of public
intelligence--newspapers and letters, both from the islands and
from the Pacific coast--unite in announcing the grand rendezvous or
arrival of northern whalemen.
If, now, there should be ships not included in the late report, and
from which no recent letters have been received either by owners or
relatives, and those ships not having been spoken with by others, they
are specially marked as "missing ships," and serious apprehensions
begin to be entertained lest some disaster may have befallen them.
The mail in February or March is supposed to bring from the islands and
intermediate ports all the reliable information respecting those ships
that have arrived during the last four months. Therefore a ship not
reported now must have either gone to some other port, or never left
the northern seas, or been wrecked and lost.
This was the case with the ship Citizen. There was no account of her
arrival at the islands, agreeably to the intention of Captain Norton on
his return from the Arctic; his friends at home, therefore, looked for
the report of his arrival, if not among the first, certainly among the
last.
Besides, there were neither letters from him or his officers, none to
relatives, none to the owners of the ship. Other families had heard
from absent ones, and were made to rejoice; those interested in the
fate of the Citizen, however, were filled with sadness and sorrow.
The absence of letters was ominous of something fearful and
distressing. Captain Clough spoke with Captain Norton on the 23d of
September, in the Arctic Ocean, lat. 68 deg. or 69 deg. N.; and this was the
last and only intelligence from the missing ship. This occurred,
as it appeared, only two days before the wreck of the Citizen. Not
having arrived at the islands, nor reported from any other place, the
conclusion to which all came was at once reasonable and just--either
that the ship was frozen up in the Arctic, or cast away on the coast,
and her officers and crew, if living, among the natives.
Reflections of this sort gave confirmation to the worst of fears,
and wrought in the minds of relatives and friends, and the community
at large, an alternation of some slight hope, on the one hand, that
they might after all be safe, and, on the other, the distressing fear
that they had completed their last voyage on earth, or perhaps were
lingering out a miserable existence amid the rigors of an arctic winter.
How little there was upon which to build a favorable hope! How
weak and superficial the foundation which engrossing and prevailing
apprehensions would not instantly sweep away and scatter to the winds!
Indeed, whatever conclusions might have been drawn respecting the fate
of the Citizen, her officers, and crew, how small encouragement there
was in the whole field of imaginary probabilities in their favor, to
relieve the minds of those at home from the constantly pressing weight
of corroding anxiety and distressing solicitude respecting them!
Uncertainty and suspense with regard to an important event is one
of the most trying states of mind in which an individual can be
placed. How true this is when the life of some friend appears to be
suspended upon the slightest possible contingency! Now indications seem
auspicious and hopeful; then, again, adverse and threatening symptoms
dissipate every cherished anticipation.
Instances have been recorded in which those who were shipwrecked and
threatened with instant death on every side, while the prospect of
deliverance was exceedingly small or absolutely cut off, have even
desired the approaching crisis, however decisive it might be, whether
of life or death, as far less distressing than the dreadful suspense
which for hours, and even days, hung over them.
For years, until all hope has at length been abandoned, the civilized
world, and especially the commercial part of it, was in a state of
profound suspense respecting the fate of Sir John Franklin and his
companions, entombed in the Arctic. How much sympathy there was felt
and expressed for the distinguished lady of the explorer, who was
unwilling to withhold any reasonable and even extraordinary efforts for
his deliverance while the faintest color of encouragement existed in
his favor! Wealth was poured out like water; and strong, self-denying,
adventurous men started up and volunteered their services to traverse
again the inhospitable regions of the north; peradventure they might
find some traces of the explorers, whether living or dead. Through
scores of months of hope and fear, distracting anxiety and painful
apprehensions, she suffered for her husband a thousand times more than
the certainty which his death would have caused.
It was precisely this state of mind which excited and agitated many
families in Edgartown in relation to the uncertainty which surrounded
the fate of the Citizen and those who sailed in her.
There was a remote, and yet very slender clinging to a bare possibility
that they might be among the living; but at the same time, as if to
extinguish every spark of hope, the imagination could hardly picture or
conceive a condition in which they could live in the arctic regions.
While "hoping against hope," and even beyond it, because hope is the
only preservative against despair, yet it seemed as if forlornness
stood ready to mock the fugitive idea that it could be well with them.
Thus more than twelve months rolled their rounds, and no ray of light
was shed upon this dark event of Providence.
How many times the relatives met to talk over this common affliction
and calamity! to mingle together their sympathies, for adversity binds
kindred hearts! to send up united desires to God that deliverance in
some way which they knew not, but which Infinite Wisdom only knew,
might be wrought out for the husband, and sons, and brothers, if still
in being!
If meetings and partings, however, brought no outward, substantial
relief, nor removed in the least degree the same appalling uncertainty
which enshrouded the future, this great truth they learned in many
sleepless nights, and tedious days, weeks, and months--that they
should "trust in God," and stay themselves upon his mighty hand.
Not only was private prayer offered to Him whose ear is ever attentive,
who knows and records the pleadings of every humble worshipper,
who marks the beatings of every burdened heart, but the spirit of
supplication was manifested in the house of God, and one general
desire pervaded the community that He who can "bring light out of
darkness," and sustain when all human helpers fail, would grant a great
deliverance, and return the absent ones once more to their families and
friends.
Prayer was heard; and tidings of good, of hope, and safety were already
being borne over the ocean wave, and hastening homewards upon the wings
of the wind.
In October, by an early arrival at San Francisco from the Arctic, it
was reported that the ship Citizen had been wrecked the year before,
in September; that a number of her crew were lost at the time of the
wreck; that the captain, officers, and remaining part of the men had
wintered among the natives; that they were now on board of several
ships in that ocean, and, at the close of the whaling season, they
would be at the islands.
This was the first intelligence from the ship, for more than twelve
months, which imparted the least reasonable hope to the friends
at home. It was indeed hailed with joyous emotions, and profound
gratitude to God. It at once lifted off a ponderous load of anxiety,
solicitude, and sorrow from many hearts.
Spring and summer, with their singing birds, radiant suns, balmy air,
refreshing showers, verdant landscapes, and placid waters, had come
and gone; Nature had put off the freshness and beauty of a renewed
creation, and once more dressed in her autumnal robes, yet this single
item of news, brought from a distant ocean, was the dawn of a brighter
day, and the precursor of higher happiness than all the outward world
could furnish! It chased away the sorrows of the mind; it breathed
new life into the spirits; it taught the hitherto disconsolate ones
that the hand of a delivering God should now be recognized and adored.
Public sympathy flowed in the same channel with those who could now
rejoice, as it was heretofore expressed with those who wept.
November news from the islands confirmed the report of the preceding
month, cleared away every doubt which distrust might venture to create,
and reassured the wife that her husband was safe, and parents and
members of the respective families that their sons and brothers had
survived the untold severities of an arctic winter.
About one year from this time,--November 5, 1854,--Captain Norton had
arrived at Lahaina, from a cruise in the Ochotsk, in the ship Northern
Light, of Fairhaven. He left that port in December for home; and, after
a passage of one hundred and ten days, the ship was anchored in the
harbor of New Bedford, on the 10th of April, 1855. A day or two after,
he reached his native place, to greet relatives, friends, and townsmen,
whose apprehensions for a long time had been that they should see his
face no more.
The results of his three and a half years' absence from home are
briefly these: the first season in the Arctic, in the Citizen, he
obtained twenty-six hundred barrels of oil, which were wholly lost
when the ship was cast away; seventy barrels of sperm were left at the
islands, which he took on his outward-bound passage--this was saved;
nine months and eight days among the natives, and taken off in July;
the second season on board of other ships, in the capacity of guest and
passenger; the third season in the Northern Light, in the Ochotsk Sea,
where he obtained twenty-four hundred barrels of oil.
Thus, in misfortune, there was still a good share of prosperity. Not
only was one cargo lost, but it was nearly replaced again by another in
the ordinary time for which ships are fitted out.
But the greatest and crowning mercy of all was, in returning once more,
with such good health, from so many dangers, exposures, and perils
which have attended the present voyage.
Mr. John W. Norton arrived home in October, 1855; Mr. John P. Fisher,
and Mr. Abram Osborn, Jr., arrived home in April, 1856;--making the
time since they sailed from New Bedford, October, 1851, four years for
the first, and four and a half years for the last two.