Bristol County, Massachusetts - Chapter 3: The Brave Industry of Whaling, 1924

Chapter 3: The Brave Industry of Whaling

The story of New Bedford's fascinating industry - the whale fishing - is so interwoven with the history of New Bedford that it cannot be separated from it, yet the story is so full of romance and adventure, as well as

The water front of New Bedford was once conspicuous by a forest of whaleship masts. Now the tall chimneys of the cotton mills have assumed the place they occupied in the picture, telling of the decline of the whaling business and the progress of the cotton industry which is now on the top wave of success.

Along the water front one still encounters a few old buildings of stone which were occupied by whaling agents in the palmy days of whaling, when a great race of merchants and captains frequented them. The merchants were a type of men such as this generation produces not, - portly nabobs who wore broadcloth and beaver hats and jeweled watch fobs, looking the part of men of large affairs, others in the garb of the Quaker, while the captain of those old days was the embodiment of affluence. The boys of that early day all aspired to command whaleships, and the captain of a whaler was looked upon by youth with the awe with which Mark Twain used to look upon the captains of the Mississippi steamboats.

In these buildings were the counting rooms of the whaling merchants. The first floors were often the ship chandlery shops and rooms where whaling outfits were stored between voyages. The counting rooms were on the second floors, and there were sail lofts and rigging lofts in the upper stories. These counting rooms had a character all their own. There were counters and iron railings behind which were desks of mahogany. The bookkeepers stood up, or sat on high stools. 'There were few desks in the old counting rooms at which the office help might sit in' a chair. About the office walls were models of whaleships and whaling prints reproduced from the paintings of Benjamin Russell. There were boxes on the shelves, lettered with the names of the whale ships, in which the vessel's bills and papers were kept. One of these great buildings of stone and brick, unadorned by architectural ornament and reflecting the tendencies of the business men of the period, is still standing at the foot of Union street, and is now occupied in part by the offices of the New York, New Haven & Hartford railroad.

The late Jonathan Bourne, the most successful of all the whaling merchants in New Bedford's rich history, who owned at one time more ships than any man in New England, carried on business in the old stone block at the head of Merrill's wharf throughout his career, and his counting rooms are now exactly as he left them, the sole survivor of all the counting rooms which are visualized in the minds of those who remember the fascinating industry, no less than the quaint old ships strongly characterized by their clumsy wooden davits and masthead perches from which the lookouts watched for whales.

There is to-day an odor of whale oil about Merrill's wharf, contributed by a few hundred casks of oil that happen to be stored there at this time, which brings back memories of departed days to the old citizen who gets a whiff of oil and seaweed once so familiar. The power of smells to evoke pictures was recently emphasized by Mr. Kipling. "Have you noticed," he wrote the other day, "wherever a few travelers gather together, one or the other is sure to say, 'Do you remember the smell of such and such a place?' Then he may go to speak of camel - pure camel - one whiff of which is all

Arabia; or of the smell of rotten eggs at Hitt, on the Euphrates, where Noah got the pitch for the ark; or the flavor of drying fish in Burma." Mr. Kipling's allusion brought out a swarm of letters from people who tried to assign the characteristic smell of great cities. One man tells that the odor of Paris is a mingling of the fragrance of burnt coffee, of caporal and of burning peat. Berlin, we are told, has the clean, ashphalty, disinfectant smell of all new towns; while Vienna the windy reeks of dust. The London "Times," coming in here, is stirred to a pitch of poetical enlargement by the topic: "The subject of smells in their relation to the traveler is an old and favorite topic with Mr. Kipling. Has he not said somewhere that the smell of the Himalayas always calls a man back? And does not his time-expired soldier sing of the 'spicy garlic smells' of Burma? The smells of travel are indeed innumerable. The voyager gets his first real whiff of the east when he lands at Aden, and drives along a dusty road to the bazaar within the crater. It lingers in his nostrils for evermore. On the coast of Burma and down the straits the air is redolent of rotten fish and overripe fruit. Tropical jungles have been olfactory memories of decaying vegetation. The smell of Chinese villages is like nothing else in the world, but the odd thing is that to the true traveler it ceases to be disagreeable."

So much for smells, apropos of those which linger on Merrill's wharf. In the old days casks of oil coated with seaweed covered every wharf along the water front of New Bedford. The leakage saturated the soil, and the air was redolent with the heavy odor. After a century in which it was the distinctive New Bedford smell it has vanished excepting for this little spot where, in the only place on earth, is exhaled the odor of the industry which produced great fortunes and made the New Bedford of old the bes city in the country in proportion to its population.

The records of Plymouth and Nantucket as far back as 1676 Sail 1690, respectively, tell of the business of killing whales, which was carried on in boats from the shore. In 1751 there were two or three vessels from Apponagansett river engaged in this fishery. These vessels were owned by John Wady and Daniel Wood. There were at this date one or two vessels in this business from the Acushnet river owned by Joseph and Caleb Russell. Up to this time whales were principally taken between George's Bank and the Capes of Virginia; and the voyages continued from four to six weeks. Soon after, the whalemen extended their cruising grounds to the eastward of the Newfoundland coast, and the voyages were lengthened to three months. At first more vessels were fitted from Apponagansett river than from the Acushnet; but soon the superior advantages of our harbor became apparent, and the Apponagansett vessels were fitted here.

"Consider for a moment the aspect of qur town when these two or three little sloops were fitting for their whaling voyages,' wrote William W. Crapo: "The present site of the city was a forest. There was a 'try-house' near the shore (at the foot of Centre street), and a rough cartway led through the woods to the few farm houses on the County road." The Rev. Paul Coffin, who ten years later (July 21, 1761) visited the place, thus describes it in his journal: "This day rode to Dartmouth, a spacious town; twenty miles will carry you through it. Rocks and oaks are over the whole town, Whortle bushes and rocks in this and the two former towns are the sad comfort of the weary traveler. At sunset arrived

New Bedford is very rich in old manuscripts, which are continually coming to light. A few sheets of great interest are preserved, giving an account of the Russell family. Joseph Russell was the founder of the whale fishery, and the record from which quotation is made was prepared by William T. Russell, sixty or seventy years ago. Joseph Russell was a son of John Russell, one of the original proprietors of the town of Dartmouth. He was born in 1719, and died in 1804. His house stood on the country road between the court house and the Charles W. Morgan estate. The old manuscript recites as follows:

In the early stages of the whaling business sloops of only forty or fifty tons were employed. These vessels ventured out to sea in the summer months only, and no further than the Capes of Virginia and Cape Hatteras, and took especial care to return to port before the equinoctial gales in September. They were generally successful in taking sperm whales, and brought home the blubber and tried it out on shore. As their experience increased larger vessels were employed, and they ventured as far as the bay of Mexico. And finally, during his life, ships ventured around Cape Horn to the Pacific ocean for sperm whales.

. Joseph Russell first established a sperm oil factory in New Bedford. The building stood on the north side of the square at the foot of Center street. The art of refining spermaceti in those days was known to but a few men, and kept by them a profound secret. Joseph Russell employed a Mr. Chaffee for a number of years to do his refining at a salary of $500 per year - an enormous sum for those days. While at work he was shut up by himself, and no one was allowed to be present, that no one should steal his wonderful art.

Joseph Russell was a shrewd, enterprising man. At one time he carried on an extensive mercantile business. In 1770, in company with his son Barnabas, he owned in addition to his whaling vessels several trading with southern ports and the West Indies. They kept a store at the foot of Center street, and imported their goods from London. The Revolutionary War put an end to their prosperity. Their vessels were taken and their losses by the depreciation of the Continental money left them at the close of the war with but little beside their real estate.

The ship "Rebecca" was the first ship built in New Bedford. She was launched in the spring of 1785. George Claghorn, who afterward built the frigate "Constitution," the pride of our navy, was the master carpenter. The "Rebecca" was owned by Joseph Russell and his sons, Barnabas and Gilbert. The timber of which she was built was largely cut in the southwesterly part of the town. She measured about 175 tons, which was considered so immensely large that she was the wonder and admiration of the surrounding country. People from Taunton, Bridgewater and all of the neighboring towns came to New Bedford to see the big ship. There was a woman figurehead carved for her and when it was about being put upon her a member of the Society of Friends remonstrated against so vain and useless an ornament, and she went to sea without it. A mock funeral service was held and the figurehead of "Rebecca" was buried in the sand. Joseph Russell's sons were the prime movers in the ceremony.

The owners of the "Rebecca" had some difficulty in finding a man of sufficient experience to trust with the command of so big a ship. James Haydon was finally selected for her captain, and Cornelius Grinnell her first mate. She sailed on her first voyage to Philadelphia, from there to Liverpool. Mr. Grinnell was her captain on the second voyage, and he commanded her for six years.

The "Rebecca" was the first American whaleship to double Cape Horn. She was commanded by Captain Kearsley and made a successful voyage, obtaining a cargo of sperm oil on the coast of Chile, returning in about twelve months. The "Rebecca" finally made a disastrous end. She sailed from Liverpool for New York in the autumn of 1798, commanded by Captain Andrew Gardner, and was never heard from.

Joseph Rotch came here from Nantucket in 1765, realizing the greater opportunities for the whaling industry here, and purchased a large tract of land. William Rotch came later, bringing with him his son, William Rotch, Jr. They were men of great wealth and built stately mansions with beautiful surroundings, "fair as gardens of the Lord." They brought their ships likewise. Several of the vessels of the Rotch fleet achieved great fame. It was the ship "Dartmouth," named by Dartmouth men, that carried the tea into Boston harbor that was thrown over by Revolutionary patriots. It was the ship "Bedford" that was the first to display our flag in British waters. The credit has sometimes been given to the ship "Maria." As a matter of fact the credit belongs to the old ship "Bedford" of this port. It was surpassingly strange that not only the newspapers but Mrs. Farrar, a granddaughter of elder William Rotch, in her "Recollections of Seventy Years," and Mrs. P. A. Hanaford, published the erroneous statement. "I have often heard the old gentleman tell with pride and pleasure," wrote Mrs. Farrar, "that the 'Maria' was the first ship that ever unfurled the flag of the United States in the Thames." Yet the records show that on the date the flag was displayed in the Thames the "Maria" was lying at the wharf at Nantucket. '"Barnard's History,' a rare book, published at the time, contained the following:

The ship "Bedford," Captain Mooers, belonging in Massachusetts, arrived in the Downs on the 3d of February, passed Gravesend on the 3d, and was reported at the custom house on the 6th inst. She was not allowed regular entry until some consultation had taken place between the commissioners of the customs and the lords of council, on account of the many acts of Parliament in force against the rebels of America. She was loaded with 487 butts of whale oil, is American built, manned wholly by American seamen, and wears the rebel colors. 'This is the first vessel that kas displayed the thirteen rebellious stripes of America in any British port. The vessel is at Horseledour, a little below the Tower, and is intended to return immediately to New England.

In 1781 Admiral Digby granted thirty licenses for our vessels to go after whales. i was then connected with my father and Samuel Rodman in business. Considerable oil was obtained in 1782. In the fall of that year I went to New York and procured licenses from Admiral Digby for the "Bedford," William Mooers, master, and I think the "Industry," John Chadwick, master. They loaded. The "Bedford" sailed first, arriving in the Downs, February 23, the day of the signing of the preliminary treaty of peace between the United States, France and England, and went up to London, and there displayed for the first time the United States flag. The "Industry" arrived afterwards, and was, I suppose, the second to display it. The widow of George Hayley, who did much business with New England, would visit the old "Bedford" and see the flag displayed. She was the sister of the celebrated John Wilkes.

William Rotch, Jr., might have added to his notice of Mme. Hayley that a more intimate connection with the Rotches than a visit to the ship was contemplated, for Mme. Hayley was at one time betrothed to Francis Rotch.

Even if the "Maria" is deprived of the erroneous fame attributed to her, she yet remains the most interesting vessel, perhaps, that ever sailed from this port. She was built for a privateer at Pembroke, Massachusetts, in 1782. She was purchased by William Rotch, and taken to Nantucket, from whence she made a voyage to London with a cargo of oil. After the voyage she was employed in whaling, and was owned by Samuel Rodman. It is a tradition that she was a bridal present from Mr. Rodman's fatherin-law, Mr. Rotch, on the occasion of the marriage of his daughter. In all she made twenty-seven voyages, and is credited with having taken about 25,000 barrels of sperm oil, whale oil, and many thousand pounds of

On July 4, 1785, when the "Maria" sailed for London with a cargo of oil, Mr. Rotch and his son Benjamin went in her as passengers to induce the English government to permit the establishment of the whale fishery in England. Mr. Rotch had several interviews with the leaders of the government, and, getting no satisfaction, he went to France and had an interview with the King, which resulted in establishing the industry at Dunkirk. Returning to England in the 'Maria', Mr. Rotch had the satisfaction of telling the English they were too late, France having accepted the offer of which England was slow to take advantage.

When the "Maria" was fifty years old, she had made four voyages to London, thirteen to Brazil banks, then a famous whaling ground; one to the Indian ocean, one to the Falkland islands, and eighteen to the Pacific ocean. In 1836 the "Maria" sailed, but returned, having been struck by ~ lightning. In 1838 she was changed from a ship to a bark, and in 1849 sailed for the Indian ocean. While on this cruise the bark's career was nearly ended. She was seized by the natives of the Johanna islands. Captain Morris, then in command, was imprisoned. The bark was afterwards released and spared the fate of burning, which was frequently dealt by the natives in those times.

The "Maria" sailed for this port September 29, 1859, on what was destined to be her last voyage under the American flag. She was then seventy-seven years old, and had been owned by Mr. Rotch and his descendants all the time. 'To avoid the risk of capture by rebel cruisers she was sold February 24, 1863, at Talcahuano, Chile, to Burton & Trumbull, and her name was changed to "Maria Pachaco." She was used as a coaler until 1866, when she was fitted for whaling under command of David Briggs, of Dartmouth, Massachusetts. She continued under the Chilean flag in the whaling and coal carrying business until 1870. Then she was used as an oil receiving ship until 1872, when she took fire and was condemned. With her breaking up at Vancouver Island, her strange eventful history was brought to a close.

The War of the Revolution nearly destroyed the whaling business, and when peace was restored there was great rejoicing, and then came a stunning blow. Great Britain, as William W. Crapo tells us, had enacted a law which in effect prohibited the importation of American caught oil into the kingdom. The purpose of the law was apparent. The New England catch was in excess of the demand for home consumption, and unless there was an outlet for the surplus, which had been largely through London, there could be no extension of the industry; and, with the surplus thrown upon a market which did not require it, the return would be unremunerative, which would lead to reduction of the fleet and the possible abandonment of the enterprise. Great Britain did not pass the law for the purpose of protecting an existing British industry, nor to encourage or promote a new British industry. Far from it. The words of Edmund Burke in his famous speech in Parliament a few years before, when remonstrating against the war with the colonies, were still ringing in the ears of the Britons. He told them of a people living on the New England coast, few in number, who surpassed in maritime adventure and daring the people of every nation in Europe. With rare and impressive eloquence he had portrayed their marvelous triumphs on the ocean. He said they were a people whom equinoctial heats did not disturb, nor the accumulated winters of the poles. That there was no ocean that was not vexed with their vessels, and no climate that did not witness their toil. He spoke of them as people still "in the gristle," as it were, and not yet hardened in the bone of manhood. England was ambitious to be the mistress of the seas, and she feared that the new nation, should it become strong and powerful, "might some day challenge her sovereignty of the ocean. Hence she would throttle and destroy at the outset an industry that bred such a race of seamen.

William Rotch went to London. He interviewed the leading public men of that time. He met members of Parliament and urged the repeal of the obnoxious law. He was received with coldness. After long and vexatious delay the matter was referred to the First Lord of the Admiralty, Lord Hawksbury. Realizing that he could not obtain the annulment of the law Mr. Rotch still hoped that some agreement would be reached whereby to secure the continuance of the New England whale fishery. He suggested that an English port be designated where American whaleships could enter to make repairs and to purchase the equipment and supplies for their voyage, thereby furnishing employment to English workmen and profit to English tradesmen, and on the completion of the voyages such vessels might reénter that port and discharge their cargoes, which would be sold and distributed by English merchants who would receive a liberal compensation for their service. Mr. Rotch had in mind, if this concession was granted, that the ships owned in Dartmouth and Nantucket would still fly the American flag and be manned with American sailors.

The concession was not granted, - Lord Hawksbury scornfully saying - "Mr. Rotch, we do not want your ships. England builds ships. What we do want are your men." And so he went to France. He met there members of the Ministry and explained to them what he wanted to accomplish, and asked for certain privileges and protection. They were granted to him by the government. At Dunkirk he established a business for the marketing of American oil, which he placed in charge of his son Benjamin. Returning to this country he ever afterwards lived in New Bedford, which had separated from the mother town, and never ceased his efforts for the success of the whaling industry for the community to which he had attached himself.

In the succeeding generation the prominent whaling merchants were John Avery Parker and George Howland, Sr. They were able men, with full knowledge of all matters pertaining to the fishery. They were enterprising, venturesome, efficient and successful. They added many ships to our fleet, and they greatly increased the wealth of the town.

Among the men of that period who had an important part in our special industry was Isaac Howland, Jr., the founder and active manager of the firm which bore his name. His firm is remembered by the magnitude of it operations and the gainful results. The remarkable house founded by Isaac Howland, Jr., is represented and crystallized in the famous Hetty Green. Isaac Howland, Jr., was a little man, weighing only ninety-five pounds. He found it the greatest hardship and toil to accumulate the first thousand dollars. When there were small schooners trading from the

West Indies, before the seizures which led to the French spoliation claims, the sailors wore silk stockings into port on the Howlands' ships. Isaac Howland, Jr., bought these stockings from the men, washed and ironed them, and resold them at a good profit. This is a feeble structure on which to build a fortune of forty or fifty millions. He could neither read nor write. His one object was money, money, money. He had one daughter who married the famous Uncle Gideon Howland. Uncle Gideon lived on the corner of School and South Water streets. He died in 1847, leaving about $800,000.

Edward Mott Robinson, the father of Hetty Green, came here penniless, and married Abby Howland, one of Gideon's daughters.* The other daughter was Sylvia Ann Howland, who never married. Robinson was a strange man. He lived a sad and miserable life, and he had few redeeming qualities. Many stories are told of him. One day a young man offered him a cigar. He examined it and asked what it cost. Upon being told that it cost ten cents he handed it back with the remark: "I buy mine two for a cent. If I smoke that one I will have my taste cultivated for good ones, and I don't want that." Of George Howland, Sr., Mary Jane Howland Taber wrote:

He was particular about the names of his ships. There was the "George and Susan," and the "George Howland," and the "Ann Alexander," the name of an Irish friend who was traveling in this country, and the "Corinthian," supposed to refer to Paul's epistles, and the "Golconda," a pleasant association of ideas with the diamond mines of Hindustan, and when he bought of Stephen Girard a merchant. vessel named "Rousseau," it was with the intention of fitting her for a whaler and changing her name. As soon as she arrived in this port he had the figurehead of the "infidel" chopped off and thrown into the mud of the dock, where perchance it still reposes. While casting about in his mind for an unexceptional name he was told the name could not be changed. Once "Rousseau," always "Rousseau." He declared he was very much tried, which in worldly parlance might mean very angry, or pretty mad, and talked of sending the ship back to Philadelphia, though of course he was aware that could not be done. This devil's bark proved very lucky, and always made what the sailors call greasy voyages, but when her great catches were reported her owner puffed out his cheeks and emitted a contemptuous "pooh." When he was obliged to speak the name he purposely mispronounced it "Rus-o,' and to this day you will hear people speak of the old "Rus-o." She had the longest life of any known ship, lasting from 1801 to 1893. The bracket which supports the bust of George Howland, Jr., in the Free Public Library, is a part of the carved scroll which usurped the place under the bowsprit of the great Frenchman's figurehead, and has ploughed most of the oceans of the globe.

The Golden Age. - In what might be called "The Golden Age" of New Bedford, its whaling vessels in number and tonnage exceeded the combined fleets of all other whaling ports, and New Bedford became known as the foremost whaling port of the world.

In 1845 New Bedford was the fourth tonnage district in the United States, the others being New York, Boston and New Orleans. The registered tonnage of New Bedford at that time was nearly double that of Philadelphia. Seven hundred and thirty-six vessels of all kinds were employed in the business, with a tonnage of 233,262. The greatest import ever received in one year was in 1845, being 158,000 barrels of sperm oil, 272,000 barrels of whale oil, and 3,000,000 pounds of whalebone. The prices then ruled at eighty-eight to ninety and one-half cents for sperm oil; thirtytwo and seven-eighths to thirty-six and one-half cents for whale oil; and thirty-three and five-eighths to forty cents for whalebone. The whaleships owned in New Bedford would have made a line ten miles in length. The whaleboats which they carried would have extended six miles if strung out in a line, and there were 10,000 strong sailors to man them.

The present generation knows from tradition that New Bedford once ranked among the whaling cities, but there are few, if any, who know what this industry meant in dollars and cents. The literature of the subject has been devoted to the romance, and to certain statistics dealing with vessels employed, dates of sailings and catches; but in this practical day there is no doubt a desire to know what there was in it from the dividend point of view.

An old report on the whale fishery, compiled by James Arnold and made to the National Convention for the Protection of American Interests about the year 1843, recently came to light. It is the property of Frank E. Brown, and gives statistics which have never been compiled elsewhere, and which furnish information on one phase of our historic industry which is of exceeding interest. James Arnold, it may be said, was a son-in-law and partner of William Rotch, Jr., and a famous merchant prince, a "captain of industry,' to employ the vernacular of the day. Boston people remember him as the giver of the "Arnold arboretum," and his benefactions to his home city were numerous. There is hardly an institution or charitable society but has its "James Arnold fund." Mr. Arnold made his report from tabular schedules kept at New Bedford. The whole number of vessels employed in the national whale fishery was estimated at 650, tonnaging 193,000 tons, manned by 16,000 officers and men. Of these vessels it was estimated that 360 were employed in the spermaceti and 290 in the common whale fishery.

The total cost of fitting the fleets was $10,610,060. This labor and material was for ordinary outfit, and not for ships requiring repairs, often involving the cost of a new ship. On the basis of these estimates Mr. Arnold estimated the whole value of the ships and outfit as they sail at $20,120,000.

The length of voyages in the sperm fishery at that time was three years, and on the right whale ships. twenty months. The proceeds or imports from the fishery in 1841 were $7,359,022, on which the officers and crews would draw for their services on the voyage about thirty per cent., or $2,207,706. These figures show the volume of business and its profits in a form which has not been presented elsewhere. Roughly figured, and based on three-year voyages, they show annual proceeds to the owner on an investment of $20,120,000 of $5,151,316, exclusive of interest and insurance charges and depreciation.

Just a word about the men who were masters and officers of the New Bedford ships in those days. A race of men had been nurtured and trained on these ships who were daring and skillful, with keen, perceptive faculties in pursuit of the big game. They were also able navigators and seamen, upright and careful managers of the property entrusted to them. They were gathered from the town or from the surrounding country. Naturally there was a fascination to the youthful mind. They were the heroes of the port, and they looked to pass the grades of promotion speedily, and in due time to walk the deck as master. And this, those of them who were of the right stuff, really did.

The position of competent master of a good ship was one to be envied. Iven if it did cause for a time separation from home ties and family surroundings, it was a position of honor and trust and great responsibility. The master was in charge of life and property, and his word was law, and where he willed he could go. On his discretion and good judgment turned success or failure to many besides himself, on sea and shore. His draft in foreign ports for supplies or requirements bound every individual owner in the ship for the full amount of his disbursements. In this respect the power entrusted to him illustrates the inconsistencies of our human nature; close, careful men, who on shore would not trust their neighbor with a small portion of their property, who distrusted everyone's judgment and integrity, would placidly repose in the power of a master who was to sail the world around, and had the right to make drafts in any quarter that might easily absorb their all. To the honor of the men who commanded ships and accepted such trusts be it said that instances wherein they were unfaithful to the confidences reposed in them were rare indeed.

The business was an almost perfect instance of codperative work. The owners furnished ship and all the necessary outfits and advances. Captain, officers and crew took these from their hands, and furnished their capacity and energy to procure the cargo, each man on board to receive a certain pro rata or share, called "lay," of the net result, the distribution being in the proportion of two-thirds to the capital invested, and one-third to labor; in the latter ability, readily recognized, commanded the highest reward.

No member of a whaleship's crew, from the captain down, received fixed wages. If the ship takes no oil, or disaster overtakes her, the crew have nothing but their existence and labor and pains. Officers and crew are shipped with the promise of a certain percentage of the catch. A captain receives a lay ranging from a tenth or twelfth to a fifteenth, according to his success in previous voyages, which means that one barrel of oil in every ten to fifteen taken is his share. In the case of a foremast hand his lay ranges from one hundred-and-fiftieth to one two-hundredth. The ordinary whaler carries a crew of thirty-five men. The mate receives a lay from an eighteenth to a twenty-fifth, according to agreement. The second mate receives a thirty-fourth, the third mate a forty-fifth, boat-header a fiftyfifth, four boatsteers from a hundred and eighteenth to a hundred and seventh-fifth, cooper a sixty-third, steward a ninetieth, cook a hundred and twentieth and half the slush, green hands from a hundred and seventy-fifth to a hundred and eighty-fifth, boy a two-hundredth, one seaman and one seaman carpenter each a hundred and sixty-fifth, three ordinary seamen each a hundred and seventy-fifth.

As illustrating the aspect of life along the water front of New Bedford during the days when the whaling industry was in its prime the following from "The Mercury" of March 30, 1838, is quoted: "We have the satisfaction today of announcing the safe arrival at this port during the last two days of no less than nine vessels employed in the whale fishery, richly freighted with cargoes amounting in the aggregate nearly to 20,000 barrels of sperm and whale oil, and valued at the present prices at more than $260,000. A considerable portion of these cargoes have been already disposed of, and for the quantity remaining to be put on the market, even higher rates will probably be obtained, in consequence of the recent advance in the price of oils in the European markets." And again November 2, 1838, it is announced: "Four arrivals at this port Friday from the Pacific ocean have brought upwards of 9,500 barrels of sperm oil, valued at about $290,000."

Some of the bowhead whales yield an enormous product. Authorities differ as to the number of slabs of whalebone to be found in the jaw of the bowhead and right whales. Captain Wicks says 615 slabs in a bowhead and 420 in a right whale. Captain Earle says 514 in a bowhead, and Captain George Baker says 630 in a bowhead and 430 in a right whale. Captain Simeon Hawes once took a bowhead whale which made 375 barrels of oil, which is the record. The steamer "Jeanette" took a whale one cruise the bone of which weighed 3,000 pounds. Captain Willis, on one Arctic voyage, took two whales the bone of which aggregated 5,600 pounds. Captain Henry Taber, in the bark "America," took a bowhead whale the bone of which weighed 3,000 pounds, the oil made 260 barrels and some of the whalebone measured seventeen feet in length. Two of the slabs of this bone were in a Honolulu shipping office for many years, and lately have been in a saloon there. A North Dartmouth man remembers the circumstances of the taking of this whale, and saw the bone in Tom Spencer's office in Honolulu. This was almost the longest bone ever taken from a bowhead whale. The ship "Ocean" once took a freak whale with an abnormally small body, the bone of which was eighteen feet in length.

Captain Charles Brower, who spent more than twenty-five years in the Arctic, made the statement that a bowhead whale will break ice two feet thick. Upon the receipt of whalebone in port it is cleaned with scrapers and brushes, and then submitted to a softening process in water until it becomes pliable, when it is steamed and cut into strips and lengths of marketable size. Arctic whalemen figure that for every barrel of oil taken from the bowhead there will be seventeen pounds of whalebone, while in the Okhotsk sea but fourteen pounds of bone to the barrel.

New Bedford in Melville's Time. - Fifty years ago boys carried "Moby Dick" to bed and scared themselves so wide awake with Captain Ahab and his terrible foe that they couldn't get to sleep. And this classic of whaling romance, with its graphic pictures of New Bedford fifty years ago, is now so far forgotten that a lover of Herman Melville has asked fifty New Bedford boys if they have read "Moby Dick," and not one, he declares, had ever heard of this book.

The fascinating picture of New Bedford which Melville presented has caused many a boy and man to make a pilgrimage here. Robert J. Burdette confesses that he came about thirty years ago with Melville's picture in his mind, and "The Spouter Inn" was not, albeit a man showed him the long lance, "now widely elbowed," with which Nathan Swain did kill fifteen whales between a sunrise and a sunset. The fact that Melville has presented to us a picture of New Bedford fifty years ago, at a time when it was one of the unique cities of the world, makes it possible for this generation to appreciate how great a change the years have accomplished in the successful effort to keep up with a changing world.

It was a Saturday night in December, sixty or seventy years ago, when Melville stuffed a few shirts into his carpet bag and left New York for

Cape Horn and the Pacific by way of New Bedford and Nantucket. He was determined to sail on a Nantucket whaler, because in the matter of whaling Nantucket was the great original - the Tyre of this Carthage - the place where the first American whale was stranded, and from whence the first adventurous sloop put forth, partly laden with imported cobble stones, the | story goes, to throw at the whale in order to discover when they were nigh enough to risk a harpoon from the bowsprit. As a matter of fact he sailed from New Bedford in the "Acushnet." His name may yet be seen on the crew list which reposes at the custom house. He missed the packet, and to this we are indebted for the only picture of New Bedford in those whaling times, which is preserved to us. It was a very dark and dismal night, bitingly cold and cheerless. "Such dreary streets,' writes Melville, "blocks of blackness, not houses, on either hand, and here and there a candle, like a candle moving about in a tomb." With halting steps Melville paced the streets. He passed the sign of "The Crossed Harpoons," which looked too expensive and jolly. So did the "Sword Fish Inn." At last he came to a dim sort of light, not far from the docks, and heard a forlorn creaking in the air, and looking up saw a swinging sign over the door, with a painting upon it representing a tall, straight jet of misty spray, and underneath these words, "The Spouter Inn, Peter Coffin."

Then follows the description of "The Spouter Inn," typical of the sailor boarding house which disappeared but a few years ago. There was a wide, low, straggling entry, with old-fashioned wainscots, reminding one of the bulwarks of some old condemned craft. On one side hung a painting representing a Cape Horner in a hurricane, the half foundered ship weltering with three dismantled masts alone visible, and an exasperated whale purposing to spring clean over the craft in the seemingly enormous act of impaling himself upon the three mastheads. On the opposite wall was hung a heathenish array of clubs and spears, some set with glittering teeth resembling ivory saws. Mixed with these were rusty old whaling lances and harpoons, broken and deformed. Then there were divers specimens of skirmishander.

This was all typical only a few years ago, and the description would have applied to scores of sailor boarding houses on Water street and "The Marsh," but now they are not. Nor is the prototype of Queequeg, that © awful harpooner, "He never eats dumplings; he don't. He eats nothing but steaks, and likes 'em rare."

Of all the institutions connected with whaling mentioned by Melville, there is but one which can be pointed out to the seeker of literary landmarks. That is the Seaman's Bethel. The New Bedford Port Society was established over seventy years ago, and in 1831 a chapel was built. It was dedicated May 2, 1832, "Father" Taylor, of Boston, officiating. Then the Bethel flag was unfurled, and from that time to the present has never failed on every Sabbath morning to signal to the sailor that there is a temple peculiarly his own, where he is welcomed on his return from his voyage, and where he can listen to the words of Gospel. The chapel that Melville attended and described was destroyed by fire in 1866, but a feature that attracted the writer's attention is still the wonder of the visitor. The walls are covered with marble cenotaphs, masoned into the walls, reading to the sailor about to go down to the sea the fate of the whalemen who have gone before him. Delightful inducements to embark, fine chance for promotion, it seems, for a stove boat will make him more immortal by brevet. Yes, there is death in this business of whaling - a speechlessly quick chaotic bundling of a man into eternity. The tablets were often placed in the walls by the shipmates of the sailors lost at sea. Occasionally they were provided by a mother, wife or sister. Some of them bear weeping willows; others, more appropriately, ships; and nearly all are bordered by heavy black frames. Here is a sample cenotaph:

Capt. Wm. Swain

In the Memory of CAPT. WM. SWAIN, Associate Master of the Christopher Mitchell of Nantucket. This worthy man, after fastening to a whale, was carried overboard by the line and drowned May 19th, 1844, in the 49th year of his age. "Be ye also ready, for in such an hour as ye think not the son of man cometh."

There is one which tells of the tragic death of Charles Petty, who was bitten by a shark while bathing near the ship, and died in nine hours. He was buried by his shipmates on the Island of De Loss, near the coast of Africa. Some of the tablets are inscribed with a verse, like this one - of one who fell from aloft and was drowned:

The ship's bell - deep-toned moaning sound - Boomed o'er the quiet air, To call the crew in the sadness round To attend the funeral prayer. In his coral grave he's left to rest, With no urn or willow tree; His tablet is in the sailor's breast, This token of which you see.

The following inscription on a tablet shows how generally the men in a family followed the sea in the old days, and how often they were bereaved:

Melville's reflections upon these tablets will serve today. "Oh! ye whose dead he buried beneath the green grass; who standing among the flowers can say, 'Here, here lies my beloved; ye know not the desolation that broods in bosoms like these. What bitter blanks in those black-bordered marbles which cover no ashes! What despair in those immovable inscriptions! What deadly voids and unbidden infidelities in the lines which seem to gnaw upon all faith and refuse resurrection to the beings who have placelessly perished without a grave. As well might these tablets stand in the grave of Elephanta as here. But Faith, like a jackal, feeds among the tombs, and even from these dead doubts she gathers her most vital hope.' "'

The chaplain whom Melville heard undoubtedly was Father Mudge. The author calls him Father Mapple in the book. The old pulpit was furnished with a side ladder and man ropes, which Melville affirms the chaplain mounted hand over hand, with reverential dexterity, as if ascending to the main top of his vessel. After gaining the height he stooped over and drew the ladder, leaving him impregnable. The paneled front of that old pulpit was in the likeness of a ship's bluff bows, and the Bible rested on a projecting piece of scroll-work fashioned after a ship's fiddle-headed beak. The service had a nautical flavor which has now departed. The present chaplain is a faithful worker among the sailors, but he would not be expected to instruct his congregation to gather about him in the vernacular which Melville attributes to Father Mapple: "Starboard gangway there! Side away to starboard - larboard gangway to starboard! Midships." The sermon on Jonah reported in the book is declared by those who remember Father Mudge not to bear much resemblance to his style. It is probably the sermon which Melville considered should have been preached to sailor folk.

There is a final description of the New Bedford which Melville saw when he left the harpooners, cannibals, sailors with beaver hats, swallowtailed coats girdled with sailor belt and sheath knives, or wearing sou'- westers and bombazine cloaks, who infested Water street in the whaling days, which will serve for a description of New Bedford today:

The town itself is perhaps the dearest place in all New England. It is a land of oil, true enough; but not like Canaan, a land also of corn and wine. The: streets do not run milk, nor in the springtime do they pave them with fresh eggs; yet, in spite of this, nowhere in all America will you find more patrician-like houses, parks and gardens, more opulent than in New Bedford. Whence came they? How planted upon this once scraggy scoria of a country? Go and gaze upon the iron emblematical harpoons round yonder lofty mansion, and your question will be answered. Yes, all these brave houses and flowery gardens came from the Atlantic, Pacific and Indian ica ie One and all they were harpooned and dragged up hither from the bottom of the sea.

Whaling Disasters - When the Civil War broke out much of the wealth tied up in whalers was afloat on various seas. 'T'wenty-five New Bedford whalers, with 2,742 barrels sperm and 4,150 barrels whale oil, were burned by Confederate cruisers. The value of the "Alabama" and "Shenandoah'' vessels destroyed is given at $1,150,000, of the oil at $500,000, making a total of $1,650,000. This was a crushing blow to the citizens, because it was a climax to a series of events which made the people of New Bediord apprehensive of the future.

The whaling industry was doomed by the discovery of petroleum, and the citizens knew it. The business men had made an attempt to stem the tide by forming an association to extend the uses of sperm oil and persist in its superiority, but they realized the hopelessness of the undertaking.

On Thanksgiving Day, less than a year before, the citizens had seen "The Stone Fleet,' two proud squadrons, the pick of whalers, sail forth to be sunk at the mouth of southern harbors. It was as if the cotton mills which line the shore today were one day loaded aboard scows and carried to sea to be sunk. It was visible evidence of the destruction of the most unique industry which ever created the wealth of a city. And, following upon such a catastrophe, came the news that the few surviving whaleships on the seas were being picked off one by one, burned with their cargoes, and the officers and crews made prisoners. And the war was upon the land to add to the encircling gloom.

The news which created such a sensation fifty years ago came from a group of officers and men who had been paroled aboard the "Alabama," put aboard a passing ship and landed in New York. One or two of the owners were wise in their generation and had secured insurance a few days before. The owners of the bark "Virginia," for instance, Captain Frederick Tilton, which was valued at $24,000, took out insurance for $11,500 at noon of the very day on which the news was received. The owners of the bark "Elisha Dunbar," Captain David R. Gifford, took out insurance upon her for $4,250 only two days before; her value was $21,250.

Captain Tilton told a story which shows that the sending of the stone fleet from New Bedford was a matter of resentment to the privateers and blockade runners, whom the closing of the southern harbor channels was designed to annoy. When taken aboard the "Alabama," Captain Tilton asked to be released, as he was doing no one harm. "You Northerners are destroying our property," retorted Captain Semmes, "and New Bedford people are holding war meetings offering $200 bounty for volunteers, and sending out stone fleet to blockade our harbors, and I am going to retaliate." Captain Tilton described the personal appearance of Captain Semmes in an interesting way. "He does everything in white kid gloves," he said, "and wears a heavy moustache, which he has waxed by his servant every morning." Captain Tilton told his fellow-citizens that Captain Semmes said he had burned the "Osceola" and nine other whalers before taking the "Virginia." Semmes, according to Captain Tilton, was very short in his remarks, and quick tempered, treating the prisoners brutally and unfeelingly. The under officers were of different dispositions, and some of them confessed to Captain Tilton they wished they were out of the business. Captain Tilton related the story of his capture as follows:

The pirate ship overtook us in lat. 39-100, long. 34-20. She first showed British colors, but when a quarter of a. mile from the "Virginia" she set Confederate colors and sent an armed boat's crew aboard. I was informed the vessel was a prize to the "Alabama," and ordered to take my papers and go aboard the steamer. 'The pirates then stripped the ship of all valuable articles, and at 4 p. m. set fire to her. I went on the quarterdeck of the "Alabama" with my son, when they sent us into the lee Waist with the crew. All were ironed except two boys, the cook and the steward. I asked if I was to be ironed, and the reply was that the vessel's purser had been in irons aboard the United States vessel and. his head shaved. He proposed to retaliate. We were put in the lee waist with an old mattress and a few blankets upon which to lie. The steamer's guns were run out the side and the ports could not be shut. So when the sea was rough and the vessel rolled the water washed the decks and we were wet all of the time. Often we would wake at night with a sea pouring over us. Our food consisted of beef, pork, rice, ham, tea, coffee and bread. Only one of our irons was taken off at a time. We were always under guard. On October 3d we fell in with the schooner "Emily Farnham," to which we were transferred after signing a parole.

Many years after, another generation, in many instances, received a windfall from the payment of the "Alabama" claims. There were many survivors also living who profited at a time when they were in need of money, and, as it turned out, the men were amply compensated for all they lost and suffered. The testimony before the Court of Claims is a marvel in the revelations of the outfits which the sailors carried in their chests. Captain Semmes may have been a dandy, but the humblest sailor could have put him in the shade, as far as clothes were concerned, if the schedule of the outfits as sworn to at court were honest.

Another terrible disaster followed in September, 1871, when one day thirty-three New Bedford ships, crushed or frozen, were abandoned in the Arctic ocean. 'Twelve hundred men were there shipwrecked, but all of them were ultimately rescued. With the oil and bone which the ships had on board they were valued at $1,090,000. In 1876 twelve whalers were abandoned in the Arctic, and in 1888 five more were lost.

Steam whaling prospered for a time, whalebone selling at fancy prices, but there is no longer a market for whalebone. A group of men cornered all the whalebone in the country and shipped it to New Bedford, which is the world's market place for Arctic bone, and held it at five dollars a pound. They held it. The use of whalebone had finally become restricted © to corset manufacture and to some extent in dresses. In the old days when whalebone was cheap and hoopskirts were in vogue it was commonly used in the latter, as well as in dresses and stays and corsets. Whips were made of it, and it was used for umbrella frames. Steel was employed later as a substitute for most of these uses, but for a long time after the wider utility had disappeared it was employed by the best corset and dressmakers, and there was a large market abroad, particularly in France. But when the price was put up to five dollars a pound the corsetmakers declared it prohibitive and turned to substitutes. Now "bones" for corsets and dresses are made of a celluloid substance which is said to be quite as good, if not superior. The whalemen blame "the Trust" for the ruin of the industry, but while the high price may have hastened the day of substitutes the substitutes would have been produced in any event. Moreover, the owners of the whalebone supply declare that in order to make any profit bone must command five dollars a pound. This does not represent cost, they say, if the risks of the business and the loss of vessels engaged in the Arctic industry are considered. Arctic whaling scarcely gave the owner of the ship a gambler's chance. A ship might encounter one closed season after another when the ships could not get to the eastward, and vessels were so frequently caught and crushed in the ice floes that the industry as a whole was seldom profitable. Still there was always the chance that a vessel might make a catch worth a hundred thousand dollars in a summer's work, and this was sufficient incentive for the daring whalemen.

Whalebone requires constant attention. It must be scraped every few months or it loses its virtue. So the value of it constantly deteriorates, and that is one reason, maybe, why "the Trust' finds it difficult to dispose of its bone. "The Trust" does not send ships into the Arctic now. The few vessels that go are largely old vessels, bought cheap by old whaling captains, who finance their own voyages. 'The opportunities for trading kept the industry alive longer than otherwise, but the natives prefer to trade for rum, and the revenue cutters prevent the whalers from engaging in trade on that basis. So most of the Eskimo trade now goes to the shore traders, who are under less close surveillance.

Since the great war, prices of sperm oil have gone up and a fleet of schooners is making handsome profits on Atlantic voyages. These are short voyages of a duration of a year or two. In the old days, voyages usually lasted four or five years, which gives point to an old whaleman's story: A New Bedford captain had spent a jolly night with his companions, and at daylight started to go aboard his ship. One of his companions grabbed him by the arm as he was about to leave the dock in a small boat. "I say, captain, you've forgotten to kiss your wife good-bye." "Hell!" said the captain, "I'm only going to be gone two years!"

A few of the old ships are still engaged. The whaling bark "Charles W. Morgan" is receiving special consideration in these days, since she is the only typical old whaling square-rigger in port, and there will never be any more of them. One or two remnants of the fleet are at sea, and put in an occasional appearance here, but none are so picturesque and typical of old whaling models as the "Morgan." The "Morgan" is seventy-seven years old, and is still in commission. She was built in 1841 by the man for whom she was named. Her first captain was named Norton, and she sailed September 4, 1841, and arrived back April 1, 1845, with 1,600 barrels of sperm oil, 800 barrels of whale oil, and 10,000 pounds of whalebone. She sailed again on January 19, 1846, under command of Captain J. D. Sampson, and returned December 9, 1848, with 2,100 barrels of sperm oil and 100 barrels of whale oil, having sent home seventy barrels of sperm oil. Her ownership was then transferred to Edward Mott Robinson, the father of Hetty Green. Captain Sampson still commanded her on a voyage to the Pacific, which started on June 5, 1849. In May, 1853, she returned with 1,121 barrels of oil. The firm of I. Howland, Jr., & Company owned her when she sailed the following September for the North Pacific in command of Captain Tristam P. Ripley. She returned in 1856 with 12,000 pounds of whalebone, having sent home 10,000 pounds of bone, 1,958 barrels of whale oil and 268 barrels of sperm. Captain Thomas J. Fisher commanded her in 1856, when she again sailed for the North Pacific, returning three years later with 28,700 pounds of whalebone, 18,000 barrels of whale oil, and 135 barrels of sperm. Next she sailed on a four years' voyage in command of James A. Hamilton, returning from the North Pacific in 1863 with 28,834 pounds of whalebone, 4,080 barrels of whale oil, and 135 barrels of sperm. In December, 1863, the "Morgan" came into the ownership of J. & W. R. Wing. Captain Thomas C. Landers took her to the North Pacific, once more in command of Captain George Athearn, when she took 3,000 pounds of bone; and in 1871 she went to the Indian ocean in command of Captain John M. Tinkham, and took 1,600 pounds of bone. On a later occasion she went to Desolation islands on a sea elephant expedition. The "Morgan" repeatedly rounded Cape Horn, but these experiences never weakened her, and she has continued making long voyages to the stormiest seas in her career. :