CHAPTER XV

NATHANIEL BOWDITCH AND HIS “PRACTICAL NAVIGATOR”

(1802)

“Hail to thee, poor little ship, _Mayflower_, of Delft Haven,”

wrote Thomas Carlyle, “poor common looking ship, hired by common

charter-party for coined dollars—caulked with mere oakum and

tar—provisioned with vulgarest biscuit and bacon—yet what ship Argo or

miraculous epic ship, built by the sea gods, was other than a foolish

bumbarge in comparison!”

This fine rhapsody is of a piece with many another tribute to the

memory of the Pilgrim Fathers and their immortal ship, and yet it would

seem that some measure of praise were due that sturdy English seaman,

Thomas Jones, the master of the _Mayflower_, who dared to make his

blundering way across the Atlantic three centuries ago. Nor can one go

wrong in admiring the courage and resourcefulness of any of these bold

seamen who crossed oceans, made their landfalls and destined ports in

safety and rolled home again with the crudest knowledge of navigation

and almost no instruments for accurately charting their courses. Even a

century ago shipmasters voyaged to faraway havens without chronometers,

trusting to the log-line and compass to find their longitude by dead

reckoning, and keeping track of their latitude with the quadrant and a

“Navigator” or “Seaman’s Friend.” Nathaniel Silsbee of Salem records

that as late as 1827 he made a passage in a brig to Rotterdam when

they had no chronometer, and knew nothing of lunar observations, but

navigated by dead reckoning, or the estimated speed of the ship. On his

first voyage of eighteen months beyond the Cape of Good Hope, “the only

spare canvass for the repair of a sail on board the vessel was what was

on the cover of the log-book.”[35]

Before informing the landsman who Nathaniel Bowditch was, and what this

self-taught astronomer and mathematician of Salem did to aid the great

multitudes of those that go down to the sea in ships, it may be worth

while to tell something of how our forefathers found their way from

shore to shore. The real beginnings of the science of navigation as it

is known to-day, are to be sought no further away than the seventeenth

century which first saw in use the telescope, the pendulum, logarithms,

the principles of the law of gravitation and instruments for measuring

minute angles of the heavens. The master of the _Mayflower_ in 1620 was

hardly better equipped for ocean pathfinding than Columbus had been

two centuries before him. Columbus in his turn had made his voyages

possible by employing the knowledge gained by the earlier Portuguese

exploring expeditions of the fifteenth century.

In fact, up to the time of the voyages undertaken under the patronage

of Prince Henry of Portugal which led to the discovery of the Cape

Verde Islands in 1447, and of Sierra Leone in 1460, thousands of years

had passed without the slightest improvement in aids to navigation

except the introduction of the mariners’ compass or magnetic needle

among European nations at the beginning of the fourteenth century.

The civilization which bordered the Mediterranean had known only

coastwise traffic, and the vast ocean beyond the Pillars of Hercules

was mysterious and unfurrowed by the keels of trading galleys. Ancient

discoveries in astronomy had taught that the altitudes of the sun and

stars varied with respect to the location of the observer according to

fixed laws, but the sailor had not dreamed of making use of these laws

to find his latitude or longitude, except for the tradition that the

adventurous Phoenician traders guided their vessels by means of the

known position of the constellation of Ursa Minor, or of the Pole star.

Prince Henry of Portugal resolved to collect and systematize all the

knowledge of nautical affairs obtainable in the early part of the

fifteenth century, preparatory to sending forth his intrepid seamen as

explorers of the Atlantic, and established an observatory near Cape

St. Vincent in order to obtain more accurate tables of the declination

of the sun, by which the mariner obtained his latitude in clumsy and

unreliable fashion. The sun’s “declination” is its angular distance

from the celestial equator, or the angle that a line drawn to the sun

from any point at sea or on the earth’s surface makes with the plane

of the celestial equator. In other words, the most important early

discovery in navigation, next to the use of the magnetic needle, was

the use of an instrument by which these angles could be determined and

then utilized by means of astronomical tables to find a ship’s distance

north or south of the earth’s equator, in degrees and fractions

thereof.

John II of Portugal, grand-nephew of this enlightened and ambitious

Prince Henry, endeavored to make further advancement in the same field

and employed a “Committee on Navigation” to collect new data and make

more calculations to lessen the errors in the tables of the sun’s

declination. They turned their attention also to the instrument then in

use for taking observations at sea, the cross-staff, and recommended

that the astrolabe should be employed instead. The shipmaster of

Columbus’ time went to sea with a cross-staff or astrolabe, a compass,

a table of the sun’s declination, a table for connecting the altitude

of the pole star and occasionally a very incorrect chart. The first sea

chart ever seen in England was carried there in 1489 by Bartholomew

Columbus. The log-line had not been invented and it was not until 1607

that any means was known of measuring a ship’s course through the water.

The cross-staff, as used by Columbus and Vasco da Gamma, consisted of

two light battens or strips of wood, joined in the shape of a cross,

the observer taking his sights from the ends of the “cross” and the

“staff,” on which the angles were marked in degrees. As a device

for measuring altitudes, the cross-staff had been known to ancient

astronomers, although unknown to their seamen. The astrolabe was a

copper disk, suspended from above with a plumb line beneath, and was

found to be more convenient for taking altitudes than the cross-staff,

and gradually superseded it.

The problem of finding longitudes at sea was far more baffling than

that of latitude. It was early discovered that the only accurate and

satisfactory method must be by ascertaining the difference in time

at two meridians at the same instant, but until the invention of the

chronometer this could be done only by finding, at two different

places, the apparent time of the same celestial phenomena. The most

obvious phenomena occurring to the early navigators were the motions

of the moon among the fixed stars, which was first suggested in 1514.

Better instruments and a sounder theory of the moon’s course were

needed before its motions could be predicted with accuracy and recorded

beforehand in an almanac in order to give the mariner a basis of

comparison with his own observations, and the very principal of such a

theory was, of course, unknown until Newton’s great discoveries, after

which the problem of lunar observations began to have a chief place in

the history of navigation.

The cross-staff and astrolabe gave place in time to the quadrant, which

was a much more accurate instrument for observation and was used by

the mariners of the eighteenth century. It, in its turn, was discarded

for the sextant during the nineteenth century, which instrument, as

improved and perfected, is in universal use at sea to-day for helping

to find a ship’s position by means of the measurement of angles with

respect to the sun and stars.

The chronometer, for finding longitudes, has taken the place of lunar

observations, and the story of the struggle to invent a time-keeping

mechanism of requisite accuracy for use at sea is one of the romances

of science. Watches were unknown until 1530, but before the end of

that century efforts had been made to ascertain the difference in

time between two places by means of two of these crude timepieces

which, however, were too unreliable to be of any practical service to

navigation. The study of the problem was stimulated by the offer of a

reward of a thousand crowns by Philip III of Spain, in 1598, to him who

should discover a safer and more accurate method of finding longitude

at sea than those in use. The States-General of Holland followed this

with the offer of ten thousand florins, and in 1674 England became

actively interested in the problem and Greenwich Observatory was

established for the benefit of navigation and especially to calculate

the moon’s exact position with respect to the fixed stars a year in

advance and so make the “lunar observation” method of determining

longitude a safer guide for the seamen than was the case with the

tables then existing.

The pressing need of such investigation was brought home to England by

a series of great disasters to her naval force because of blundering

navigation. Several men-of-war were wrecked off Plymouth in 1691

through a mistake in their landfall and Sir Cloudesley Shovel, one of

Great Britain’s immortal admirals, was lost with his fleet of ships off

the Scilly Islands in 1707 because of a mistake in reckoning position.

The government became convinced that the whole theory and practice

of navigation needed a radical overhauling, and in 1714 a “royal

commission for the discovery of longitude at sea” was appointed and at

the same time a series of splendid prizes was offered for the invention

of an accurate chronometer; five thousand pounds for a chronometer

that would enable a ship six months from home to find her longitude

within sixty miles; seven thousand five hundred pounds if the limit of

error were within forty miles; ten thousand pounds if the position were

correct within thirty miles. Another clause of this bill as enacted

by Parliament offered a “premium” of twenty thousand pounds for the

invention of any method whatever by means of which longitude at sea

could be determined within thirty miles. Two years later the Regent

of France offered a hundred thousand francs for the same purpose with

similar stipulations.

There lived in Yorkshire a young watchmaker, John Harrison, who learned

to make better watches than anybody else in England, and he had

followed with keen interest the experiments which attempted to find

longitude by means of watches set to keep Greenwich Observatory time

as nearly as possible. He determined to attack the problem in his way

and to compete for these royal prizes if it meant the devotion of a

lifetime to the art of making chronometers. He spent years in making

one instrument after another until in 1736 he carried to Greenwich a

“gridiron pendulum clock” which was placed on board a ship bound for

Lisbon. It proved to be accurate enough to correct the ship’s reckoning

of observations by several miles, and was a notable improvement on any

other timepiece of the day.

The Royal Commission urged Harrison to drop all other work and make a

business of competing for the prizes, and offered to supply him with

funds. For twenty-four years John Harrison strove to make a chronometer

that should win the twenty thousand pounds. He was sixty-eight years

old when, in 1761, he wrote the Commission that he had a chronometer

which he was willing to send on a trial voyage, and asked that his

son William be allowed to go with it to take care of the precious

instrument.

The Commission sent the chronometer out in a ship bound to Jamaica in

order that its mechanism might be tested by extremes of climate and

temperature. On arriving at Jamaica the chronometer had varied but

four seconds from Greenwich time. When the ship returned to England

after an absence of 147 days, the total variation was found to be

less than two minutes, or eighteen miles of longitude. The Commission

demanded that the chronometer be given another trial, and it was sent

to Barbados on a voyage five months long, at the end of which it showed

a variation of only sixteen seconds from Greenwich time, which meant

that John Harrison’s chronometer had lost or gained an average of about

two-thirds of a second a week.

The Yorkshire watchmaker, after a lifetime of service, had won a

momentous victory, but more exacting tests were demanded of his

masterpiece and he was threatened with death from old age before he was

finally given the twenty thousand pounds. Thenceforth the chronometer

slowly made its way among ship owners as a necessary article of the

captain’s equipment and the most important contribution to navigation

since the magnetic compass.

[Illustration: Nathaniel Bowditch, author of “The Practical Navigator”]

Old-fashioned mariners with an eye to expense continued to find their

longitude by means of lunar observations for half a century and more

after the chronometer had been perfected, and in American merchant

vessels the chronometer may be said to belong to the nineteenth century

era of navigation. “Dead reckoning” and lunar observations were the

main-stays of the Salem sea captains in the days of their greatest

activity over distant seas, and their fellow-townsman, Nathaniel

Bowditch, author of “The Practical Navigator,” was a far greater man,

and more useful to them, than John Harrison of Yorkshire.

The log-line and sandglass have been discarded on steamers of to-day

in favor of the patent log with its automatic registering mechanism,

but the old-fashioned method of measuring the ship’s course is used

on sailing vessels the world over. It gave to the language of the sea

the word “knot” for a nautical mile, and the passenger on board the

thirty-thousand-ton express liner of the Atlantic “steamer lanes” talks

of her six hundred and odd knots per day without knowing how the word

came into use, or that at the taffrail of the white-winged bark or ship

passed in midocean the log-line and glass are being used to reckon the

miles in genuine old-fashioned “knots,” just as they were employed a

century ago.

The “log” is a conical-shaped canvas bag, or a triangular billet of

wood so attached to the “log-line” that it will drag with as much

resistance as possible. The line is wound round a reel, and is divided

at regular intervals into spaces called “knots.” These are marked

on the line by bits of rag or leather; at the first knot is a plain

piece of leather, at the second a piece of leather with two tails;

at the third a knot is tied in the line, and so on according to a

simple system which enables the observer to identify the sequence

and number of the “knots.” The glass is like an hourglass, but

the sand is carefully measured to run through in exactly fourteen

or twenty-eight seconds. The log-line and its knots are carefully

measured to correspond with the glass. That is, if the sand runs out in

twenty-eight seconds, the distance between two knots of the line bears

the same ratio to the length of a real “knot,” or nautical mile as the

twenty-eight seconds for which the sandglass is set bears to an hour

of time. Therefore the number of “knots” of the line unreeled out over

the stern of the ship while the sand is running in the glass gives the

number of miles which she is traveling per hour.

When the speed is to be read, one man throws overboard the “log” and

line, while another stands ready with the glass. The first twenty

or thirty fathoms of line are allowed to pay out before the knots

are counted. When the drag has settled quietly in the sea astern and

anchored itself, a white rag tied to the line marks the instant for

turning the glass. As the bit of white rag flashes over the rail the

man with the reel begins to count the knots that slip past, the glass

is set running, and when the last trickle of sand has sifted through,

the man holding it shouts “stop her.” The other man with the log reel

notes the number of knots paid out, and down on the ship’s log-book go

the figures as the number of miles per hour the ship is making through

the water.

The log and sandglass, along with the sounding lead, are survivals of a

vanished age of sea life, perhaps the only necessary aids to navigation

which are used to-day precisely as our forefathers used them. For this

reason, and also because the log and glass played so vital a part in

the day’s work of the navigators of such ports as Salem, they have been

discussed at some length in this introduction to a sketch of the life

of Nathaniel Bowditch, for his place among the truly great men of his

time, great in benefactions to humanity, cannot be perceived by the

landsman without some slight knowledge of the conditions which then

existed in the vastly important science of deep-water navigation.

The nineteenth century had to thank this seafaring astronomer of Salem

for its most valuable working treatise on navigation which illustrates

with singular aptness the fact, often overlooked, that the ship captain

is a practical astronomer and this his calling has been more and more

safeguarded by methods of applied science. Or as Professor Simon

Newcomb has expressed it:

“The usefulness of practical astronomy and the perfection it has

attained may be judged from this consideration: take an astronomer

blindfolded to any part of the globe, give him the instruments we have

mentioned, a chronometer regulated to Greenwich or Washington time, and

the necessary tables, and if the weather be clear so that he can see

the stars, he can, in the course of twenty-four hours tell where he is

in latitude and longitude within a hundred yards.”

For more than a century the name of Nathaniel Bowditch has been known

in the forecastle and cabin of every American and English ship, and a

volume of “The Practical Navigator” is to be found in the sea kit of

many a youngster who aspires to an officer’s berth. The book is still

one of the foremost authorities in its field, a new edition being

published by the United States Hydrographic Office every three or four

years. A multitude of landlubbers who have no knowledge of seafaring

as a calling have heard of “Bowditch” as a name intimately linked with

the day’s work on blue water. At his death in 1838, his fellow mariners

of the East India Marine Society, of which he had been president,

spread upon their records a resolution which voiced the sentiment of

shipmasters in every port and sea:

“Resolved, That in the death of Nathaniel Bowditch a public, a

national, a humane benefactor has departed; that not this community,

nor one nation only, but the whole world has reason to do honor to his

memory; that when the voice of eulogy shall be still, when the tear of

sorrow shall cease to flow, no monument will be needed to keep alive

his memory among men, but as long as ships shall sail, the needle point

to the north, and the stars go through their appointed course in the

Heavens, the name of Dr. Bowditch will be revered as one who helped

his fellowmen in time of need, who was and is to them a guide over the

pathless ocean, and of one who forwarded the great interest of mankind.”

This ocean pathfinder of Salem, Nathaniel Bowditch, made no important

discoveries in the science of navigation, but with the intellect

and industry of a true mathematical genius, he both eliminated the

costly errors in the methods of navigation used in 1800, and devised

much more certain and practicable ways of finding a ship’s position

on the trackless sea. So important were the benefits he wrought to

increase the safety of shipping that when the news of his death was

carried abroad, the American, English and Russian vessels in the port

of Cronstadt half-masted their flags, while at home the cadets of the

United States Naval School wore an official badge of mourning, and

the ships at anchor in the harbors of Boston, New York and Baltimore

displayed their colors at half-mast. The London _Atheneum_ said of “The

Practical Navigator,” in the days when no love was lost between British

and American seamen:

“It goes, both in American and British ships, over every sea of the

globe, and is probably the best work of the sort ever published.”

What Nathaniel Bowditch did was to undertake the revision of a popular

English handbook of navigation by John Hamilton Morse in which his

acute mind had detected many blunders which were certain to cause

shipwreck and loss of life if mariners continued to use the treatise.

This work was found to be in need of so radical an overhauling that

in 1802 Bowditch published it under his own name, having corrected

no fewer than eight thousand errors in the tables and calculations,

including such ghastly and incredible mistakes as making 1800 a leap

year in reckoning the tables of the sun’s declination and thereby

throwing luckless shipmasters as many as twenty-three miles out of

their true position at sea. It was declared at the time that several

ships had been lost because of this one error.

Expert opinion hailed the work of Bowditch with such eulogies as the

following:

“It has been pronounced by competent judges to be, in point of

practical utility, second to no work of man ever published. This

apparently extravagant estimate of its importance appears but just,

when we consider the countless millions of treasure and of human lives

which it has conducted and will conduct in safety through the perils

of the ocean. But it is not only the best guide of the mariner in

traversing the ocean; it is also the best instructor and companion

everywhere, containing within itself a complete scientific library for

his study and improvement in his profession. Such a work was as worthy

of the cultured author’s mind as it is illustrative of his character,

unostentatious, yet profoundly scientific and thoroughly practical,

with an effective power and influence of incalculable value.”

At a meeting of the East India Marine Society on May 6, 1801, “to

examine a work called ‘The New American Practical Navigator,’

by Nathaniel Bowditch, a committee of sagacious and experienced

shipmasters, veterans of the seas beyond the Cape of Good Hope and the

Horn, submitted the following report:

“After a full examination of the system of navigation presented to

the Society by one of its members (Mr. Nathaniel Bowditch), they

find that he has corrected many thousand errors in the best European

works of the kind; especially those in the tables for determining

the latitude by two altitudes, in those of difference of latitude

and departure, of the sun’s right ascension of amplitudes, and many

others necessary to the navigator. Mr. Bowditch has likewise in many

instances greatly improved the old methods of calculation, and added

new ones of his own. That of clearing the apparent distance of the

moon, and sun or stars from the effects of parallax and refraction

is peculiarly adapted to the use of seamen in general, and is much

facilitated (as all other methods are in the present work), by the

introduction of a proportion table into that of the corrections of the

moon’s altitude. His table nineteenth, of corrections to be applied in

the lunar calculations has the merit of being the only accurate one

the committee is acquainted with. He has much improved the tables of

latitudes and longitudes of places and has added those of a number on

the American coast hitherto very inaccurately ascertained.

“This work, therefore, is, in the opinion of the committee, highly

deserving of the approbation and encouragement of the Society, not

only as being the most correct and ample now extant, but as being

a genuine American production; and as such they hesitate not to

recommend it to the attention of navigators and of the public at large.

Jonathan Lambert }

Benjamin Carpenter }

John Osgood } Committee

John Gibant }

Jacob Crowninshield }

“Approved, Benjamin Hodges, President.

“Moses Townsend, Secretary.

“Salem, May 13, 1801.”

This report is dry reading for the landsman, but it concerned matters

of the most vital import to many thousand sea captains, who later

blessed the name of this astronomer and mathematician of Salem.

As a shipmaster, Nathaniel Bowditch made a somewhat incongruous figure

among the sturdy, full-blooded, simple-minded seamen of his port

and his time. He was an intellectual prodigy, a thinking machine,

and his tastes were not at all those of the practical navigator and

trader overseas. He served his time at sea, and acquitted himself

successfully, largely because he was trained for the calling of his

father, Habakkuk Bowditch, who had begun his career on shipboard.

The family was in straitened circumstances when Nathaniel came into

the world in 1773, and his period of schooling was exceedingly brief.

At the tender age of seven he was sent to a Salem “seminary of

learning,” the master of which drilled his pupils’ minds by making

them spell at frequent intervals that uncouth monster of words

“honorificabilitudinity.” The Bowditch offspring survived this ordeal

and at twelve years was apprenticed to a ship chandler. In this tarry

environment he learned algebra and “could not sleep after his first

glance at it.” An old British sailor taught the lad what he knew of the

elements of navigation after hours in the ship chandler’s shop. The

precocious love for mathematics had set the lad’s brain on fire and he

reveled in problems which would have baffled the wisest old heads of

Salem.

While Nathaniel was still in his teens his ambition received a

mighty impetus by the discovery of a treasure trove of learning, the

philosophical library of Dr. Richard Kirwan,[36] a famous Irish

scientist. This precious collection of abstruse literature had come to

Salem in a manner highly characteristic of the time and place. While

cruising off the British coast during the Revolution, an audacious

privateer of Beverly snapped up a merchant vessel and took out her

cargo as lawful prize of war. Among the plunder was the library of

this luckless Doctor Kirwan, which he had been in the act of shipping

from Ireland to England. The privateer came home to Beverly and her

booty was sold, according to custom. Several gentlemen of Salem clubbed

together, purchased the books, and used them to found the library of

the Salem Atheneum, which institution lives even unto this day and is

housed in a beautiful new building of colonial design on Essex Street.

Nathaniel Bowditch never forgot his youthful obligation to this source

of learning and wrote in his will:

“It is well known that the valuable scientific library of the

celebrated Dr. Richard Kirwan, was during the Revolutionary War,

captured in the British Channel on its way to Ireland,[37] by a Beverly

privateer and that by the liberal and enlightened views of the owners

of the vessel, the library thus captured was sold at a very low rate,

and in this manner was laid the foundation upon which has since been

established the Philosophical Library so-called, and the present Salem

Atheneum. Thus in early life I found near me a better collection of

Philosophical and Scientific books than could be found in any other

part of the United States nearer than Philadelphia, and by the kindness

of its proprietors I was permitted freely to take the books from that

library and to consult and study them at pleasure. This inestimable

advantage has made me deeply a debtor to the Salem Atheneum, and I do

therefore give to that institution the sum of one thousand dollars, the

income thereof to be forever applied to the promotion of its objects,

and the extension of its usefulness.”

Dr. Richard Kirwan had the shadowy consolation of being compelled to

furnish enlightenment to this hostile port of Salem, but the most

important benefit reaped by this singular privateering adventure was

the stimulus it conveyed to the mind of young Nathaniel Bowditch. He

became wholly submerged in the volumes of the Transactions of the

Royal Society of London. Indeed, he copied one book after another,

making these manuscripts with infinite pains in order that he might

possess them and carry them to sea with him. He was in his teens when

he copied “A complete collection of all the Mathematical Papers of the

Philosophical Transactions; Extracts from various Encyclopedias and

from the Memoirs of the Paris Academy; a complete copy of Emerson’s

Mechanics, a copy of Hamilton’s Conics; extracts from Gravesand’s and

Martyn’s Philosophical Treatise; extracts from Bernoulli, etc., etc.”

At the age of seventeen Bowditch began to learn Latin without a teacher

in order that he might read Newton’s Principia, and when he was old

enough to vote “he was unsurpassed in mathematical attainments by any

one in the Commonwealth.” But he must needs earn his bread and go to

sea, and so in 1795 Nathaniel made his first voyage as captain’s clerk

in the Salem ship _Henry_, Captain Prince, to Mauritius. His sea life

covered a period of nine years, during which he made five voyages, one

of them to Manila in 1796-7, in the ship _Astrea_, as supercargo with

Captain Prince. The _Astrea_ was the first American ship to fly the

stars and stripes in the harbor of Manila, a fact of some historical

worth. The American trade to the Orient was then in its beginnings and

it was Elias Hasket Derby, who, with characteristic enterprise, sent

the _Astrea_ to Manila in search of sugar, pepper and indigo, of which

she fetched home a large and valuable cargo.

Nathaniel Bowditch kept a journal of this voyage as was required by the

laws of the East India Marine Society, and his journal, written in a

precise and delicate hand, is preserved in the Society’s collection of

records. His impressions of the capital city of the Philippines in 1797

read in part as follows:

“The city of Manila is about three or four miles in circumference,

is walled all around, and cannon are placed at proper intervals, but

we were unable to get much information with respect to the state of

the place, as they were shy of giving any information to foreigners.

The buildings within the wall are all of stone, and none except the

churches is more than two stories high, on account of the violent

earthquakes which they generally have at the breaking up of the

monsoons. The month of March is when they most expect them, but on the

fifth of November, 1797, we experienced several violent shocks at about

2 P. M. which came from the northward, and proceeded in a southerly

direction, continuing with violence nearly two minutes. It threw down a

large house half a league from the city, untiled several buildings, and

did much other damage. It was not observed on board the ship lying off

the bar. The motion of the earthquake was quicker than those usual in

America, as the latter are generally preceded by a rumbling noise; the

former was not.

[Illustration: Nathaniel Bowditch’s chart of Salem harbor]

“The suburbs of Manila are very extensive; most of the business is done

there. The houses of the wealthier class are of two stories, built

of bamboo with thatched roofs. No house can be built in the suburbs

without the particular permission of the Governor, fearing if they were

too high an enemy might make use of them, as was the case when the

English took the place formerly, for one of the churches near the walls

was very serviceable to them.

“All the women have a little of the Indian blood in their veins,

except the lady of the Governor and two or three others, though by

a succession of intermarriages with Europeans they have obtained a

fair complexion. The natives (like all other Malays) are excessively

fond of gaming and cock-fighting. A theatre is established for the

latter business from which the government draws an immense revenue,

the diversion being prohibited at any other place. Sometimes there

are five or six thousand spectators, each of whom pays half a real. A

large sum arises from the duties on tobacco and cocoa wine. Tobacco

is prohibited, but if you smuggle any on shore it cannot be sold for

more than the ruling cost in America, notwithstanding the price is very

high. Particular people, licensed by the King, are the only persons

allowed to deal in it.

“All the natives chew _dreca_ and _betel_, though not mixed with opium

as in Batavia. This with chewing and smoking tobacco make their teeth

very black. The segars used by the women, and which they smoke all

day, are made as large as they can possibly get into their mouths. The

natives are about as honest as their neighbors, the Chinese; they stole

several things from us, but by the goodness of the police we recovered

most of them.

“On the second of December, 1797, thieves broke into the house where we

lived, entered the chamber where Captain Prince and myself were asleep,

and carried off a bag containing $1,000 without awakening either

of us, or any of the crew of the long-boat sleeping in an adjoining

chamber.

“The guard boat discovered them as they were escaping and pursued them.

They, in endeavoring to escape, ran afoul of a large boat, which,

upsetting them, the money went to the bottom, and, what was worse, the

bag burst and the money was all scattered in the mud, where the water

was eight feet deep. However, by the honesty of the captain of the

guard, most of it was recovered. The thieves were caught, and, when we

were there in 1800, Mr. Kerr informed us that they had been whipped,

and were to be kept in servitude several years.

“The same day another robbery was committed, equally as daring. The day

the indigo was shipped, the second mate came ashore with several of the

people to see it safe aboard. The boats we had provided, not taking all

of it, we sent the remainder aboard with a black fellow as a guard, who

was esteemed by Mr. Kerr as an honest man, but he had been contriving,

it seems, to steal a couple of boxes. When the cases containing the

indigo had passed the bar, a small boat came aboard with two boxes

filled with chips, stones, etc., appearing in every respect like those

full of indigo, and, pretending that we had put on board two wrong

boxes, they exchanged their boxes for two real boxes of indigo, but, in

bringing them ashore, they were detected and the indigo returned.

“There are great numbers of Chinese at Manila. It is from them most

of the indigo is purchased. They trade considerably with China; their

junks arrive at Manila in January, and all their goods are deposited

in the custom-house. Some of these cargoes are valued at a million of

dollars, the duties on which amounted to nearly $100,000. The Chinese

at Manila retain all the customs of their country, excepting those

respecting religion and a few other things of small moment.”

[Illustration: Captain Benjamin Carpenter of the _Hercules_, 1792]

When the _Astrea_ arrived at Manila on this voyage, Captain Prince was

asked by another shipmaster how he contrived to find his way in the

face of the northeast monsoon by dead reckoning. He replied that “he

had a crew of twelve men, every one of whom could take and work a lunar

observation, as well for all practical purposes, as Sir Isaac Newton

himself, if he were alive.”

During this dialogue Nathaniel Bowditch, the supercargo, who had taught

these sailors their navigation while at sea, “sat as modest as a maid,

saying not a word but holding his slate pencil in his mouth,” according

to Captain Prince who also used to relate that “another person remarked

there was more knowledge of navigation on board that ship than ever

there was in all the vessels that have floated in Manila Bay.”

During his seafaring years this singular mariner, Nathaniel Bowditch,

learned French thoroughly, and studied Italian, Portuguese and Spanish.

One who sailed with him said, “all caught a zeal to learn on board

his ships. The whole crew of twelve men on board the _Astrea_ later

became captains, first and second mates. At sea his practice was to

rise at a very early hour in the morning, and pursue his studies till

breakfast, immediately after which he took a rapid walk for half an

hour, and then went below to his studies till half-past eleven o’clock,

when he returned and walked till twelve o’clock, the hour at which he

commenced his meridian observations. Then came dinner, after which

he was engaged in his studies till five o’clock; then he walked till

tea time, and after tea was at his studies till nine o’clock in the

evening. From this hour till half-past ten o’clock he appeared to have

banished all thought of study, and while walking he would converse in

the most lively manner, giving us useful information, intermixed with

amusing anecdotes, and hearty laughs, making the time delightful to

the officers who walked with him, and who had to quicken their pace

to accompany him. Whenever the heavenly bodies were in distance to get

the longitude, night or day, he was sure to make his observations once

and frequently twice in every twenty-four hours, always preferring to

make them by the moon and stars on account of his eyes. He was often

seen on deck at other times, walking rapidly and apparently in deep

thought, when it was well understood by all on board that he was not

to be disturbed, as we supposed he was solving some difficult problem.

And when he darted below the conclusion was that he had got the idea.

If he was in the fore part of the ship when the idea came to him, he

would actually run to the cabin, and his countenance would give the

expression that he had found a prize.”

In keeping with this picture is the story of Bowditch’s behavior when

during his third voyage, from Cadiz to Alicante, his ship was chased

by a French privateer. The Yankee captain decided to make a fight of

it and Bowditch was assigned to hand powder on deck from the magazine.

One of the officers, going below after the vessel had been cleared for

action found the supercargo sitting on a keg of powder with his slate

in his lap, absorbed in making calculations.

Nathaniel Bowditch had made the sea serve him, both to gain a

livelihood and to test his theories of practical navigation for the

benefit of his fellow seamen. But he did not consider “The Practical

Navigator” to be an achievement by which his intellectual powers should

be measured. His _magnus opus_, the fond labor of his best years was

the translation and commentary of the monumental work of the great

French astronomer, La Place, entitled “_Mécanique Celeste_” (Celestial

Mechanics). So much of his own learning appeared in his exhaustive

notes that the American edition of four volumes was a lasting memorial

to the industry, knowledge and researches of Nathaniel Bowditch,

and was the foremost American achievement in scientific letters

during the early nineteenth century. It won a solid fame for Nathaniel

Bowditch, both at home and abroad. Where one American, however, has

heard of his edition of _Mécanique Celeste_, a thousand have studied

the pages of his “Practical Navigator,” which is a living book to-day.

[Illustration: From the log of the _Hercules_, showing the beautiful

penmanship with which Captain Carpenter adorned his sea journals]

Shortly after he retired from the sea, Doctor Bowditch was elected

president of the Essex Fire and Marine Insurance Company and continued

in that office until 1823, declining professorships at Harvard, West

Point and the University of Virginia. In 1823 he was persuaded to move

his residence to Boston as actuary of the Massachusetts Hospital Life

Insurance Society which position he held until his death in 1836. A

self-taught scientist, a notable benefactor of mankind, Nathaniel

Bowditch was with singular fitness, a son of Salem in the days when

its splendid race of navigators were his fellow-townsmen. He loved the

storied seaport in which he was born, and he was generally beloved

for those very genuine qualities characteristic of the shipmasters

among whom he lived. There was a rare simplicity and an absence of all

false pride in the reasons which he gave to his executors for making a

bequest to the Salem Marine Society.

“He told us, and all our children,” his sons wrote to the officers

of the society, “at the time of executing his will that his father,

Habakkuk Bowditch, for nearly twenty years received from your charity

fund the annual sum of fifteen dollars or thereabouts, so that his own

food and clothing when a boy were in part derived from this source.

Under these circumstances, we felt with him, that he had incurred

a debt of gratitude toward your society which justified and indeed

required from him an acknowledgement in return.”

FOOTNOTES:

[35] The Boston ship _Massachusetts_ sailed for the East Indies in

1790. She was the largest merchant vessel built in the United States up

to that time, and was especially designed and equipped for the Oriental

trade, measuring six hundred tons and carrying a crew of eighty men.

Winthrop L. Marvin’s American Merchant Marine states:

“In view of the importance of the _Massachusetts_ it is astonishing

to learn from Delano’s Narrative that she went to sea without a

chronometer, and without a single officer who could work a lunar

observation. This compelled her to creep down the coast of Africa,

feeling her way along, as it were, by the discolored current. She tried

to sight the Cape Verde Islands to correct her reckoning, but missed

them, and standing too far back toward the East came near bringing up

on the inhospitable sands of South Africa. But the worst miscalculation

of all was the missing of Java Head, that great landmark of East India

voyagers. This blunder compelled the _Massachusetts_ to make at least

fifteen extra degrees of ‘easting’ and cost her about three weeks’

time. If a great ship like the _Massachusetts_ were so ill-provided

with the instruments of navigation, it is inexplicable how the small

ships of poorer owners ever found their way around the Cape of Good

Hope, and through the labyrinths of the East Indian Archipelago.”

[36] Dr. Richard Kirwan (1733-1812) was born in Cloughballymore,

Ireland. He was a distinguished investigator and writer in the fields

of mineralogy, chemistry, and meteorology, a member of the Edinborough

Royal Society, the Royal Irish Academy, and a number of foreign

academies. He received an honorary degree of LL.D. from the University

of Dublin, and declined a baronetcy offered him by Lord Castlereagh.

His works were translated into Russian, German and French. The capture

of Doctor Kirwan’s library was a misfortune of sufficient importance to

find mention in the National Dictionary of Biography which relates:

“In 1776, Kirwan, having conformed to the established church, was

called to the Irish bar, but threw up his studies after ten years, and

pursued scientific studies in London, exchanged for Greek at Cregg

in 1773. He resided in London from 1777 to 1787, and became known to

Priestley, Cavendish, Burke, and Horne Tooke. He corresponded with all

the savants of Europe; his Wednesday evenings in Newman St. were the

resort of strangers of distinction; the Empress Catharine of Russia

sent him her portrait. His library, dispatched from Galway to London

on 5th Sept., 1780, was captured by an American privateer. Elected a

fellow of the Royal Society on 24th Feb. 1780, he received the Copley

medal in 1782 for a series of papers on chemical affinity.”

[37] A probable error of memory as the library was on its way to

England according to other sources of information.

The ships and sailors of old Salem · 第 14 / 22 章