Captain Nathaniel Brown Palmer, an old-time sailor of the sea

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CAPTAIN

NATHANIEL BROWN PALMER

Preface

While employed as a reporter on The Sun, of New York, thirty odd years ago, the writer saw in the January, 1884, issue of Harper's Magazine, r an illustrated account of "The Old Packet and Cllp- ''' per Service." Records of swift passages, hero tales and statements of vast profits were mingled in it in a way that proved memorable. In fact, the whole story was so interesting that the magazine was preserved and became the first item in a collection of books relating to the sea. ^ Naturally this collection came to resemble the ^original article in that the most important feature . >was bibliographical; it came to demonstrate that a history of the sea, at least, is a series of biographies. S, Naturally, too, the records of some of the more \actlve of the old master mariners were duplicated, more or less, in the various accounts — their work ^had attracted the attention of more than one writer. Accordingly, as the collection was read and reread, '^thc names of certain captains became more and more "^familiar to the reader and then a time came when \\ the name of one old captain came to mind whenever any true story of the sea was read.

A few quotations from some of the sketches will vi Preface

show how this came to pass : In the original account it was noted that when ships were named, during the clipper era, "the custom was to use the names of distinguished merchants or captains — the Houqua, the Samuel Russell, the A^. B. Pahner." A copy of the North American Review, published in 1834, told how a Yankee sailor, in a sloop "but little rising forty tons," had discovered lands of continental proportions near the Antarctic Pole and had explored the coast for many miles in spite of the hurricane squalls that prevail in that region and in spite of the ice floes which mill around and crash together there under the influence of currents as well as v/inds. The name of this young man was Nathaniel Brovv'n Palmer, and the story quoted said that a Russian naval officer had named the coast thus explored Palmer Land. It appeared that the young explorer thus distinguished was the distinguished merchant or captain for whom a ship had been named later. A clipping from a Liverpool newspaper described briefly a race between twelve American packets and freighters plying between New York and Liverpool. The winner in this race was the Washington, Captain Holdredge. He arrived in seventeen days. The third in the race was the Columbus, Captain Palmer, who arrived a day later. The Nautical Magazine, (Volume II), which was edited by John Willis Griffiths, a noted naval architect, made mention of Captain N. B. Pahner several times during 1855, and on one occasion coupled his name with that of

Preface vii

William H. Aspinwall, saying that the two were the originators of "the late clipper era."

The impression made by these references was deepened by further reading. There were many notable men in the service of the American merchant marine during the period between the War of 1812 and the Civil War, but, as the records indicated, Captain Palmer as an explorer, as a master mariner, and, more important still, as a designer of famous clippers, was preeminent. So a time came when the writer decided to secure, if possible, the facts at least sufficient for a biographical sketch, and if possible for a fairly complete biography.

It is a pleasure to acknowledge that in the work then begun the most cordial aid was received from Mrs. Richard Fanning Loper, of Stonington, Connecticut, a niece of Captain Palmer. The captain had lived with Captain Alexander Palmer, her father, for several years and such of his papers as remained were left in Mrs. Loper's possession. The old Palmer mansion at Stonington — a picturesque, shingle-covered structure that stood on the west side of town at a point overlooking the Sound and the sea — was burned on November 15, 1850, when many documents such as log books and letters were destroyed, but some, Including the log of the little sloop Hero, kept during the memorable voyage to the Antarctic Continent, were saved. All the materials in Mrs. Loper's possession, together with notes made from memory by her father, by herself and others viii Preface

have all been used in preparing this biography. But for the unwearied aid of Mrs. Loper it could not have been written.

As for the facts obtained from contemporary periodicals and documents, credit is given where quotations are made. It should also be said, however, that many statements relating to the clippers which were designed by Captain Palmer, as well as by others, are taken from the "The Clipper Ship Era," by Captain Arthur H. Clark, a work which gives a history of all the clippers, including the British, which attracted public attention during the period. Captain Clark is "one of the last of the captains of the old school," to quote a biographical sketch in "Some Merchants and Sea Captains of Old Boston." He wrote his history in part from personal knowledge but chiefly from authentic documents, such as the log books of the ships, which he gathered during the many years when he was the New York representative of Lloyd's Register of Shipping.

The writer must also acknowledge that material help was received from Dr. James H. Weeks, of Stonington; Frederick William Edgerton, of the Public Library, New London; H. M. Lydenberg, of the New York Public Library; the librarian of the Boston Public Library; Captain W. C. Asserson, U. S. N,, Acting Hydrographer, Washington; Homer Sheridan, managing editor, of the Marine Journal, New York; Kenneth Lord, city editor of

Preface ix

the New York Herald; A. J. Aubrey, of the Brooklyn Eagle; S, Davles, Secretary of Lloyd's Register of Shipping; J. Murray Forbes, Milton, Mass., and Allan Forbes, of the State Street Trust Co., Boston.

J. R. S.

Little Falls, N. Y., September 14, 192 1.

Contents

CHAPTER PAGB

I Trained in a Shipyard i

II A Captain at Eighteen 14

Chapter I

CAPTAIN Nathaniel Brown Palmer was born in the old family home at Stonington on August 8, 1799. He was one among eight children — four boys and four girls. On his father's side he was descended from Walter Palmer who settled at Salem, Mass., in 1629, while his mother was of the Brown family of Rhode Island. His father, who also bore the name of Nathaniel Brown Palmer, was educated to practice law, but he preferred to hear the rasp of the pit saw and the crisp chip of the adz, rather than the dull drone of the court room, and so he made shipbuilding his life work.

Because building ships was the work of the father, young Nat, as the boy born in 1799 was called to distinguish him from his father, had a shipyard for a playground from the time he was old enough to run around without the care of a nurse. Stonington, in those days, was a thriving seaport of about

I

5,000 inhabitants, standing at the mouth of Long Island Sound. When storms prevailed to eastward the coasters bound around Point Judith and so on to Providence or Boston or Portland, were In the habit of entering the harbor of Stonington to await pleasant weather. Then vessels that met misfortune when rounding Point Judith or Block Island, found the Palmer shipyard a convenient place for making repairs. The coasters brought many a tidy repair job to the Palmer shipyard.

In the matter of building new ships, the yard was favored by the fact that Connecticut oak stood higher in the estimation of ship owners than any except the live oak of Hatteras Island and the coast of Florida. Of course the final test of popularity of the yard depended on the quality of the work done, and the proof that the quality was of the highest is found in the fact that many vessels of all classes were built there. However, because the channel leading into the harbor carried only twelve feet of water the chief demand at the Palmer yard was for brigs, schooners, and sloops.

As said, from the time that young Nat was able to navigate the sea of chips he went to his father's yard to play; and so he began to absorb a knowledge of hulls and spars before he went to school to learn his letters. He stood by while the workmen stretched keels on the blocks and erected the ribs; and he listened to what they said about the models of the hulls thus begun. He looked on with unfailing interest while other workmen, with endless chipping, shaped long logs of various diameters into masts and yards and booms and gaffs, discussing, the while, the merits of the sticks they worked upon and the general dimensions of spars when compared with the sizes and shapes of the hulls for which they were designed. He learned what was meant when they said a vessel was over-sparred before he learned to work the rule of three.

His admiration was excited early by the men who could rest one end of a slender stick on a rock and then with a keen-edged ax slice shaving after shaving down to within an inch of the rock until he made of the stick a treenail, that was either round or eight-square, and of the exact diameter to drive into its destined augur hole — all this without ever a slip that would endanger the edge on the ax. And then there was the man who could swing an ax in an overhead blow and split a chalk line three times in succession. Young Nat dreamed of the day when he, too, should be able to do that as well as any one.

The shipbuilders of that day — the carpenters, the spar makers, the riggers, and so on — were proud of their skill. There was a friendly rivalry between them in the yard, each striving to outdo the others, not through any craven fear of tlie "old man," as the owner was called, but for the love of the distinguished consideration which skill brought to men who excelled. So the shipyard was more than a playground for the towsle-headed youngster; it was a good school of the kindergarten variety. It was one of many which then gave character to the small, growing and somewhat towsle-brained nation.

When a vessel was launched, and the people of the borough and the country round about came to cheer her on her way, young Nat was one of the privileged few who mounted the deck to ride down the ways. The click of the mauls as the iron wedges were driven into the keelblocks; the settling of the hull on the cradle as the blocks dropped to pieces; the final blow that released the trigger and let the hull slide down the ways, all thrilled the boy more than the men and women who cheered the event most cordially.

Even that was not all. For while the hull was yet on the ways the workmen and other spectators talked about the poise the hull should have after going afloat. Hulls were designed wholly by rule o' thumb, in those days, and sometimes a ship was down by the bows when the designer had expected her to be down by the stern. And sometimes a hull showed a list to one side or the other. The boy listened while the workmen as well as the unhappy designer told just how such a hull happened to go wrong.

Most important in the education of young Nat were these shipyard experiences; for they created or at any rate cultivated the bent of mind which eventually led him to design the ships of the Dramatic Line of Liverpool packets and the stately clippers Howqtia, Samuel Russell, Oriental, and others which were most efficient and most famous in the China trade.

That this boy learned to swim about as soon as he learned to walk was according to the custom of alongshore New England boys. One old account says that when a gang of youngsters went to the swimming hole, it frequently happened that boys who had not yet learned to swim jumped in, determined to learn how, then and there — or get saved by some of the older ones present. Of course, too, the boy learned to handle a sailboat at the age when farm boys learned to ride a horse. For the boys of Stonington, a sail to the Middle Ground was a matter of no moment; but to reach away to Ram Island or the eastern end of Fisher's Island was an adventure, while sailing to New London or to Gardiner's Island was a voyage.

Consider now the influence of the stories told by the sailors from the vessels which came to the Palmer yard for repairs. Those were the good old days of Jeffcrsonian simplicity when the American people preferred paying tribute to the pirates of the north coast of Africa to fighting for freedom to sail their ships across the high seas — when they paid millions of tribute in the shape of coin, armed ships and naval stores to black pirates. No doubt seamen who had been in the Mediterranean came to Stonington and related their experiences on the

African coast. Many — perhaps most — of them had been in the West Indies during the days when French and Spanish piratical privateers were raiding American commerce, imd these had tales of narrow escapes and of prison experiences to tell. Of the stories of shipwreck there was, of course, no end. The very presence of the vessels seeking repairs was usually due to some sort of disaster. In short, the common conversation of Stonington related to the sea just as people in the blue grass of Kentucky talk about the pedigrees of horses.

More important still, perhaps, in shaping the early career of this young sailor-in-the-making, were the oft-told stories of the neighbors who had sailed with Captain Edmund Fanning in the brig Betsey, when, in 1797-1799, she went to the Falklands for fur seals; rounded the Horn and stopped at Mas-a-fuera off the coast of Chili for more, and then sailed on to Canton with 100,000 skins. That was a wonderfully profitable voyage for all hands on the ship, and they had sailed around the world. Moreover some of them remained on Mas-a-fuera to take skins for the Betsey for another voyage to follow the first. No sailors from Stonington had more exciting adventure tales to tell than these had.

From the sunlit waters of the Caribbean to the ice fields of the far south, from New York around Cape Horn to Canton and China, the sailors of Stonington had seen many a strange sight of which they were ready to talk to the wondering boys at home. So the winds that came unimpeded from beyond the Cape of Good Hope to the Palmer shipyard at Stonington called with a siren's voice to young Nat as he played among the chips.

Of the political conditions prevailing in the nation during his boyhood young Nat no doubt knew much. When an embargo was laid on American shipping in an effort to compel the warring nations of Europe to deal justly with this country, the vigor with which the people of the town denounced the absurd measure was certainly in part understood by the boy of ten — perhaps fully understood. He appreciated the effects of the measure beyond a doubt when he saw the dismantling of ships in the harbor. And when on June i8, 1812, war was declared, he was old enough to share in the excitement that prevailed all alongshore.

That the interest of the boy in that war increased with the passage of time is also beyond doubt, for Stonington occupied a notable position.

The borough stood on a point of land, called Long Point, opposite the east end of Fisher's Island, and therefore faced the open sea as well as the east end of Long Island Sound. The anchorage of that day was a roadstead rather than a harbor and in later years breakwaters were built to shelter the shipping of the port. Nevertheless it was frequently used by the coasting vessels as already noted — especially during northeast storms. When the War of 1812 came on it was popular for another reason. It became a resort for blockade runners. For the enemy sent a war squadron under Commodore Sir Thomas M. Hardy (he had been the favorite captain of Admiral Nelson) , to blockade the east end of Long Island Sound. These ships reached to and fro between Montauk Point and Point Judith where they were nearly always within view of Stonington.

In foul weather the crews of the squadron were especially vigilant but they were never able to stop the coasting trajfEc of the Yankees. Indeed the blockade did but give zest to the traffic, for the danger added greatly to the profits of each successful passage. Thus at New York where the grain of the Hudson watershed could be obtained, the price of flour was but $7 a barrel. At Boston, where the people had been accustomed to depend on New York for their supplies, the price quickly rose to $14. Captain Jacob Dunham, in his reminiscences, tells how he bought the sloop Rover for $500, loaded her with 500 barrels of flour which he carried through the blockade to eastern ports and sold for $4,000 net profit. Some one ought to write a book on "Profits and Progress," for It can be easily demonstrated that high profits create swift progress.

The profits in blockade running were a perpetual call to the daring seamen of the coast, and nowhere was the call louder than at Stonington. For the usual route of the coaster was through Fisher's Island Sound and so within easy reach of the Stonington anchorage. When fog and wind favored her the coaster held her way; when clearing weather seemed coming on, or when daylight was at hand, the coaster dropped anchor near the borough. Captain Dunham says that blockade runners could be seen at anchor there at all times when the weather was fair. The people — more especially the boys of Stonington — had the daring crews of these vessels always in mind.

Moreover they saw the coasters when in deadly peril. Many a time the fog cleared away unexpectedly while a sloop or a schooner was passing Point Judith or was under Watch Hill, and the nearest warship of the enemy came in hot pursuit. Every sail was spread on pursuer and pursued and then the guns on the warship began to roar. Many an interesting yacht race has been seen from Stonington, but consider how the excitement grew as the Pactolus frigate, or the sloop Despatch, fired shot that knocked the spray over the rail of the hunted coaster and even carried away the tophamper. And when the crew of the coaster were seen at work wetting down their sails to increase her speed we may well believe that the spectators fairly shrieked their approval.

Sometimes the flying Yankee held her way in spite of injuries and came fluttering into port like a wounded wild fowl. Sometimes the crew of a captured coaster rose on the prize crew and retook her as was the luck of the crew of the Natina, Captain Stewart.

The boys of Stonlngton knew the coasters as well as a landsman knows the houses of his home town. They were personally acquainted with many members of the crews. Indeed, there were Stonlngton men and boys on many of the blockade runners. When one of these little vessels dropped anchor off the point It was the custom for some of the crew to come ashore, where they told In the picturesque language of the sea how they had managed to escape the enemy — told the story to listeners who became wellnigh breathless because of their Intense Interest.

But war was to come still closer to the people of Stonlngton. The borough had been bombarded, though all In vain, during the War of the Revolution. On August 9, 1 8 14, Commodore Hardy came to bombard It again because he had heard that the Stonlngtonians were building torpedoes with which to attack his squadron. As the story Is told in H. D. Palmer's "Stonlngton by the Sea," the 74-gun liner Ramilies, the 44-gun frigate Pactohis, the 22-gun brig Despatch and the bomb brig Terror reached in to anchor at a point where their guns would bear. Then a boa*: brought ashore a message which read:

"Not wishing to destroy the unoffending Inhabitants of Stonlngton, one hour Is given them from the receipt of this to remove out of town."

The non-combatants left the town; the men loaded two old-fashioned i8-pounders, which were standing In a small earthwork on the point. They had at hand a 4-pounder but It was not loaded then.

Trained in a Shipyard II

They had two guns with which to reply to four ships which together mounted 140 effective cannon besides an unknown number of mortars on the Terror, some of the shells from which weighed more than 200 pounds. In the history of war there are few stories of men who faced greater odds than that.

At 8 o'clock that night the Terror began shelling the town. The crews of the two i8-pounders — sailors, no doubt, who had faced the perils of the sea ever since the previous war — returned the fire. And at the first shot they fired they demonstrated that the odds were in their favor! For their shot struck home. They knew how to aim their guns while the enemy fired with enthusiasm and nothing better to direct their shells.

Seeing that his fire was ineffective while that of the two i8-pounders were sinking the Terror, Commodore Hardy at 9 o'clock, sent six or seven huge rowboats to a position from which they could shower the town with Congreve rockets, a weapon then supposed to be especially efficient in firing wooden houses. A few houses were thus set on fire but the Stoningtonians extinguished the flames. The fire of shot which was meantime directed on the two iS-pounders eventually cut the old "gridiron flag" from its staff in the little earthwork, but a big gunner stepped to the flagstaff where another man, flag in hand, mounted his shoulders and nailed it to the staff.

At midnight Commodore Hardy acl^nowledged that he had failed thus far — acknowledged it by sending a flotilla of longboats to effect a landing. Thereupon the Stoningtonians brought their 4- pounder as well as one of the i8-pounders to bear on these boats.

"We tore one of their barges all to pieces," wrote Captain Amos Palmer, in a letter to the Secretary of the Navy, later, "so that two, one on each side, had to lash her up to keep her from sinking."

At that the flotilla fled, which was something British sailors have rarely done. Then the fire at the warships was renewed. The bombardment was continued, off and on, for three days. In that time the sloop Despatch alone lost 21 killed and 50 wounded from the fire of the two i8-pounders, as was learned from one of her officers after the war. The loss on the other warships was never told. In Stonington one man was hurt — mortally wounded. Not a house was destroyed. The people picked up fifteen tons of projectiles after the battle ended. Some of them are yet on view. So is the tattered old flag which floated above the two i8-pounders.

It was among such neighbors as these men who would fight regardless of the odds that young Nat Palmer was born and reared. Moreover it was the proud boast of the people there that one of them — Midshipman Nathaniel Fanning — had fought under John Paul Jones on the Bon Homme Richard and had heard the memorable words "I have not yet begun to fight." In no town in the world was a higher standard of manhood maintained.

But whether young Nat was at home when the borough was bombarded is doubtful for he had, earlier in the year, shipped as a boy before the mast in one of the blockade runners which plied to and fro from New York to Portland, regardless of the blockade.

Chapter II

THE only written record of the experiences of young Nat Palmer as a sailor on a blockade runner, during the War of 1812, is the statement that one vessel on which he was employed was burned in the harbor at New Haven. But some of the conditions under which he made his way through the blockading squadrons, from time to time, are well known, and may be described here in order to show the kind of life he led and its effects upon his development as a sailor of the sail.

First of all It may be noted that there was not a lighthouse in commission anywhere along shore. The buoys which had been placed here and there to mark the reefs and shoals had all been removed at the opening of the war, lest they serve to guide the enemy. Sailing along the American coast was like sailing on some newly-discovered littoral, save only as the captain of each American vessel knew the lay of the land, and could locate dangerous water by distant marks such as hills and houses, which were visible in clear weather.

In making a passage, as from New York to Boston, the vessel usually had clear sailing until within sight of the blockading squadron, say, off New London. It was therefore the custom, when the air was clear, to sail along boldly on this passage as far as that port or to Huntington, Long Island, and then anchor to wait for fog or a dark night. With a fog during a night when the moon was not shining the captain of a blockade runner felt entirely safe; for all the captains in the business were like the pilot on the Mississippi of whom Mark Twain told — they knew the waters through which they were to steer as well as they knew the lay of the rooms in their own homes. A cast of the lead was the only aid to trained instinct needed when making the run.

The skill of the crews who handled these vessels is memorable; for it was something marvelous in the eyes of foreigners. Consider the sloops that were commonly used. Some of them were from 50 to 75 feet long. The masts were much taller than the hulls were long and some booms were five feet longer than the hulls. A 75-foot sloop commonly had a mast 84 or 85 feet tall with a boom that was 80 feet long. The mainsail was comparable with that of a "giant" defender of the America's cup, but a crew of six men handled any one of those sloops, where the cup racers have carried from thirty to forty. And one man at the tiller could gibe the main boom over in a smart breeze without bringing enough strain on sheet or masthead to break a ropeyarn.

The young apprentice from Stonington was trained to handle the tiller by men who could do just that well; and in due course he became as expert as they were. In fair winds and foul; in gentle airs and in roaring gales, he had to stand his trick at the tiller, noting the while not only the influence of the wind but the influence of tidal currents, which were sometimes favorable and sometimes adverse. More important still, considering the work he was to do later, he had to do all this at night and when the fog was so thick on the water that he could not see the jib when he stood at the tiller.

It was said of the blockade-running skippers that they could "smell their way from Hell Gate to Providence with their eyes shut"; and that was not as much of an exaggeration as it may seem to modern navigators of Long Island Sound.

Throughout the War of 1812 and until 18 18 young Nat sailed upon vessels which were engaged in trade between New York and the New England ports. He thus learned the arts of the coasting trade so well that he was promoted first to the rank of second mate and then mate.^ Before he was 19 he became master of a schooner named Galena. He had maintained the reputation of his home port, for Stoningtonians made boast of the ability of their boys to secure command before they were of an age to vote.

The peculiar skill which young Nat had acquired while working his way aft — the ability to navigate among the shoals in foul weather as well as fair — was now to take him from the coasting trade to a voyage on deep water and yet demote him; for he was invited to take part as a second mate in an expedition, fitted out at private expense, to explore the unknown waters below Cape Horn. The object In view was the location of islands supposed to exist there, which were known to tradition as the Auroras, and these islands were supposed to be the summer home of vast herds of fur seals.

Because young Nat joined in this expedition and thus became a noted sealer, a brief review of the seal fishery will give a needed focus upon that period of his life. According to a history issued by the U. S. Fish Commission "a Boston lady named Haley * was led to bear the expense of fitting out the ship States for a voyage to the Falkland Islands for hair seal skins and sea elephant oil," soon after the War of the Revolution.