The ships and sailors of old Salem

by Ralph Delahaye Paine

FOOTNOTES:

[29] Master Hacker was a Salem schoolmaster of that time.

CHAPTER XIII
THE FIRST AMERICAN VOYAGERS TO JAPAN
(1799-1801)

It is commonly assumed that until the memorable visit of Commodore Perry’s squadron in 1853 shattered the ancient isolation of Japan, no American ship had ever been permitted to trade or tarry in a port of that nation. More than half a century, however, before the tenacious diplomacy of Matthew C. Perry had wrested a treaty “of friendship and commerce,” at least three Yankee vessels had carried cargoes to and from Nagasaki.

It was in 1799 that the ship Franklin, owned in Boston and commanded by Captain James Devereux of Salem, won the historical distinction of being the first American vessel to find a friendly greeting in a harbor of Japan. In 1800, the Boston ship Massachusetts sailed to Nagasaki on a like errand, and her captain’s clerk, William Cleveland of Salem, kept a detailed journal of this unusual voyage, which records, to a considerable extent, duplicate the following very interesting narratives of the adventures of the Franklin, and of the Salem ship Margaret which went from Batavia to Nagasaki in 1801. Aboard the Margaret, Captain S. G. Derby, was a crew of Salem men, among them George Cleveland, captain’s clerk, brother of William Cleveland, who filled a similar berth in the Massachusetts and also kept a journal.

In the logs and journals of these three voyages, as written by three seafarers of Salem more than a century ago, has been preserved a wealth of adventure, incident and description which to-day sound as archaic as a chapter of the history of the Middle Ages in Europe. Excepting a handful of Dutch traders, these three ships visited a land as strange and unknown to the outside world as was the heart of Thibet a dozen years ago. They sailed to the Orient as pioneers of American commerce, and while at Batavia seeking cargo were chartered by the Dutch East India Company for the annual voyage to Japan.

When the ship Franklin set sail from Batavia for Nagasaki, in 1799, only the Dutch were permitted to hold foreign intercourse with the land of the Shoguns and the Samurai. They had maintained their singular commercial monopoly for two centuries at a price which was measured in the deepest degradation of national and individual dignity and self-respect. The few Dutch merchants suffered to reside in Japan were little better off than prisoners, restricted to a small island in Nagasaki harbor, leaving it only once in four years when the Resident, or chief agent, journeyed to Yeddo to offer gifts and obeisance to the Shogun. At this audience, which took place in the “Hall of a Hundred Mats,” the Dutch Resident “crept forward on his hands and feet, and falling on his knees bowed his head to the ground and retired again in absolute silence, crawling exactly like a crab.” To add insult to injury, the Shogun usually sat hidden behind a curtain.

After this exhibition the envoys were led further into the palace and ordered to amuse the Court. “Now we had to rise and walk to and fro, now to exchange compliments with each other,” wrote one of them, “then to dance, jump, represent a drunken man, speak broken Japanese, paint, read Dutch, German, sing, put on our cloaks and throw them off again, etc., I, for my part, singing a German love ditty.”

Of their life on the islet of Dezima, where the little colony of Dutch traders was guarded and confined, this same chronicler, Kaempfer, remarks:

“In this service we have to put up with many insulting regulations at the hands of these proud heathens. We may not keep Sundays or fast days, or allow our spiritual hymns or prayers to be heard; never mention the name of Christ, nor carry with us any representation of the Cross or any external sign of Christianity. Besides these things we have to submit to many other insulting imputations which are always painful to a noble heart. The reason which impels the Dutch to bear all these sufferings so patiently is simply the love of gain.”

In return for these humiliations the Dutch East India Company was permitted to send one or two ships a year from Batavia to Japan and to export a cargo of copper, silk, gold, camphor, porcelain and bronze which returned immense profits.

This curious system of commerce was in operation when the ship Franklin cleared from Boston for Batavia in 1798. His owner’s letter of instructions ordered Captain Devereux to load Java coffee in bulk and to return with all possible expedition. As was customary, the ship’s company was given a share in the profits of the voyage, as defined in a letter to the captain:

“We allow your first and second officers two and one-half tons privilege, and one ton to your third mate, your sailors will be allowed to bring their adventures in their chests and not otherwise. Your own privilege will be five per cent. of the whole amount which the ship may bring and ’tis our orders that she be completely filled.”

When Captain Devereux arrived at Batavia in April, 1799, he learned that the Dutch East India Company was in need of a ship to make one of the annual voyages to Japan. The Salem shipmaster and his supercargo perceived that a large extra profit could be gleaned in such a venture as this, after which the ship might return for her cargo of coffee and go home to Boston as planned.

Page from the log of the Margaret, describing her arrival at Nagasaki and the prodigious amount of saluting required

The good ship Franklin

This Batavia charter was an attractive adventure which promised to fatten both the owner’s returns and the “privileges” of the ship’s company, and after considerable preliminary skirmishing between the hard-headed Dutchmen and the keen-witted Yankee seafarers, an agreement was reached which has been preserved in the log of the Franklin. It is a valuable fragment of history in itself, for it recites the elaborate formalities and restrictions imposed upon foreign visitors by the Japanese of a century and more ago. The document is entitled:

“The Ship Franklin’s Charter Party for a Voyage from Batavia to Japan, June the 16th, 1799.”

It begins as follows:

“We, the undersigned, Johannes Siberg, Commissary General, etc., etc., on the one part, and Walter Burling, supercargo of the American ship Franklin at present at anchor in this Road, of the burthen of 200 tons, commanded by James Devereux, on the other part, do Declare and Certify to have agreed with respect to the Charter of said ship as follows.”

It is then stipulated in the articles that the Franklin shall carry to Japan a cargo of cloves in sacks, cotton yarns, pieces of chintz, sugar, tin, black pepper, sapan-wood, elephants’ teeth, and mummie, and supplies for the Company’s agents in Nagasaki. The vessel is to bring back to Batavia a cargo of copper, camphor, boxes and boards. Her charter price or freight is to be paid Captain Devereux in coffee, sugar, black pepper, cloves, indigo, tin, cinnamon and nutmegs.

After no fewer than ten numbered articles of instruction it is provided that “the Capt., James Devereux, as soon as the cargo shall be on board and his ship’s company in a proper situation, shall proceed with his said ship to the port of her destination and there being discharged and reloaded shall continue his voyage with the utmost diligence toward this metropolis, and that he shall not under any pretext whatever, approach or enter into any other port, either on his passage to Japan or on his return, unless he is forced by urgent necessity which he must justify on his return in a satisfactory manner.”

It would seem that not even the Dutch were always certain of a hospitable reception at the hands of the haughty Japanese, for in “article 13th” it is stated that “if by any unforeseen circumstances the ship should not be allowed to enter the port of Japan, and by that reason the Captain should be obliged to return with the cargo he took from here, then after his arrival here, and having discharged the cargo he took away, the freighter shall pay the freight agreed upon, of thirty thousand piasters in produce as mentioned in article 4th.”

The thrifty Dutch inserted an article to read:

“If any of the ship’s company should be sick at Japan they may be received in the Hospital on condition that they shall be taken on board the ship at the time of her departure, and the expense incurred will be for account of the letter (the ship).”

Having endeavored to protect themselves against every chance of loss or delay in a document well nigh as long as the Declaration of Independence, the officials in Batavia drew up the following letter:

“Instructions from the Dutch East India Company for Captain James Devereux on his arrival at Japan:

“When you get to the latitude of 26 or 27, it will be necessary to have everything in readiness to comply with the ceremonies which the Japanese are accustomed to see performed by the ships of the Company.

“1st. You will have all your colors in order to dress the ship on her entrance into port.

“2nd. There must be a table prepared on the quarterdeck which must be covered with a piece of cloth and two cushions for the officers to sit upon when they come on board.

“3rd. It is indispensably necessary to have a list of all the people on board, passengers and officers, their stations and age.

“4th. All the books of the people and officers, particularly religious books must be put into a cask and headed up; the officers from the shore will put their seals upon the cask and take it on shore, and on the departure of the ship will bring it on board without having opened it.

“5th. Before your arrival at Japan you must make the people deliver you their money and keep it until your departure; this will not be attended with inconvenience as at Japan nothing is bought for cash, but they may change their specie for cambang money, and then make their trade, but this must be done by the Captain.

“6th. When you are in sight of Japan, you must hoist a Dutch pendant and ensign in their proper places as if you were a Dutch ship.

“7th. When the Cavalles are on your starboard hand and the Island of Japan on your larboard you must salute the guard on the Cavalles with nine guns.

“8th. After that you pass on the larboard side of Papenburg and salute with nine guns.

“9th. You then pass the guards of the Emperor on the starboard and larboard nearly at the same time, and salute them with 7 or 9 guns, the first all starboard guns, the second all larboard.

“10th. You then advance into the Road of Nangazacky (Nagasaki), and after anchoring salute with 13 guns.

“11th. When you enter the Cavalles, the Commissaries of the Chief will come on board and you must salute them with 9 guns; at the same time, if it is practicable, hoist some colors to the yards as a compliment to them; it is immaterial what colors you dress your ship with except Spanish or Portuguese—it is, however, necessary to recollect that the Dutch colors must be always in their proper place as if the ship was of that nation.

“12th. When the Commissaries return on shore, you must salute them with nine guns.

“13th. You must be very particular in letting the boats which are around the ship know when you are going to fire as if you were to hurt any of them the consequences would be very important.

“14th. After you have anchored and saluted the harbor, the officers examine the list of your people and compare them with the number on board. After having received them those who wish it can go on shore, but before the Japanese land, all the arms and ammunition must be sent on shore, and it will be proper that everything of the kind should be landed, as they search the ship after she is unloaded. On your departure they will return it all on board. If there should by any mistake be any powder or firearms left on board, you must be very careful that not so much as a pistol be fired until the return of the ammunition which was landed.

“The agents of the Company will instruct you respecting the other ceremonies to be observed.”

Captain Devereux’s log records that he burned the prodigious amount of powder required and successfully steered a course through the other complex ceremonies, nautical and commercial, without ruffling Japanese dignity in any way. The Franklin lay in Nagasaki harbor for almost four months after which she returned to Batavia, to the satisfaction of the East India Company. Thence she sailed for Boston with so large a cargo of coffee, sugar and spices that it overflowed the hold and filled the after cabin. The captain and officers berthed in a makeshift “coach-house” knocked together on deck, but made no complaint as their several “adventures” had been richly increased by the voyage and trading with the Japanese.

In more than one stout old Salem mansion are treasured souvenirs of the voyage of the Franklin. According to a memorandum of “a sale of sundries received by ship Franklin from Japan,” Captain Devereux brought home as part of his adventure, “cabinets, tea trays, boxes of birds, waiters, boxes of fans, nests of pans, camphor wood, mats, kuspidors, together with inlaid tables and carved screens.”

In 1801, or two years later, the Margaret of Salem lay in Nagasaki as a chartered trader. George Cleveland, of a famous family of Salem mariners, who sailed as the captain’s clerk, kept the log and journal of this voyage, and his narrative contains much of interest concerning the early relations between the Japanese and the people of other countries.

“In the autumn of 1800,” he wrote soon after his return, “the ship Margaret, built by Mr. Becket of this town, and owned by the late Col. Benj. Pickman, John Derby, Esq., and Captain Samuel Derby who was to command her, was launched. On the 25th November we left Salem harbor bound for the East Indies, and probably a finer, a better-fitted or better-manned ship never left this port before. We carried 6 guns and 20 men; most of the crew were fine young men in the bloom of youth. I will enumerate those who lived many years after, namely: S. G. Derby, captain; Thomas West, second mate; L. Stetson, carpenter; Samuel Ray, Joseph Preston, Israel Phippen, Anthony D. Caulfield and P. Dwyer, Thatcher and myself.

“We soon found on leaving port what a fast sailing ship the Margaret was. When we were out eleven days we fell in with the barque Two Brothers, Captain John Holman, who had left Salem some days before us, bound for Leghorn. We made him ahead in the afternoon steering the same course we were, and before night we were up alongside and spoke him. The next day we fell in with a fleet of merchantmen, convoyed by a frigate which was under very short sail, and kept all snug until she had got into our wake, when she set sail in chase, but we distanced her so much that in a very short time she gave it up and took in her sails and rejoined the fleet.

“On the 4th of February, 1801, we anchored in Table Bay, Cape of Good Hope. We saluted the Admiral’s flag, which civility was returned. On the 10th February we left, bound to Sumatra, and found it difficult to get to the westward as winds and currents were against us. After a tedious passage we anchored in Bencoolen Roads, 136 days from Salem, including our stoppage at the Cape. As nothing could be done to advantage here we proceeded to Batavia and arrived there on the 25th of April.

“Captain Derby soon made a bargain with the agents of the East India Company to take the annual freights to and from Japan, and as it was the custom from time immemorial that the Japan ship should sail on a certain day, and as that day was some time ahead, it was necessary to find some employment for the vessel previously, as it was dangerous to the health of crews to be lying any time in Batavia Roads. The Company offered Captain Derby a freight of coffee from a port a short distance to the eastward, which he readily accepted. This wore away twelve or fourteen days of the time, and added to the profits of the voyage.

“The cargo for Japan consisted of a great variety of articles, such as the Dutch had been in the habit of shipping for nearly two centuries. It was composed of sugar, spices, sapan wood, sandal wood, rattans, glassware, cloths, medicines, and various other articles, and as everything was to be done according to a prescribed rule, and as we were not to sail until a certain day in June, we had time enough to do all things right as regards receiving and stowing the cargo.

“We weighed anchor at 8 A. M., on the 20th June, 1801. We had as passenger a young Dutchman who was going out as clerk to the establishment in Japan. On the morning of July 16th, we made the islands of Casique and St. Clara which are near the harbor of Nangasacca (Nagasaki), our destined port. On the 18th two fishing boats came alongside and supplied us with fish. On Sunday, 19th, we were so near that we hoisted twenty different colors and in the afternoon entered the harbour of Nangasacca. We had much ceremony to go through in entering this port, which is considered indispensable, among other things to fire several salutes.

“The day after our arrival I landed on the Island of Decima,[30] a little island connected with the city of Nangasacca by a bridge. It is walled all round and here the Dutch residents are obliged to pass their lives. Provisions are very dear and everything had to be passed through the hands of a compradore and he, no doubt, put upon them a large profit. We had excellent sweet potatoes and mackerel, and sometimes pork and fowls, and the bread was as good as any country could produce.

“Captain Derby, Mr. West and myself carried several articles of merchandise on our own account. This has always been allowed to the Dutch captains, but then the sale of these articles must be made by the Japanese government. All these articles were landed on the island, opened and displayed in a warehouse and on certain days the (Japanese) merchants were allowed to go on the Island to examine them. Nothing could exceed the minuteness with which they examined everything. Among other articles we had a quantity of tumblers and wine glasses; these they measured with the greatest care, running their fingers over every part to determine what irregularities there were on the surface, and then holding each piece up to the light to see the colour. They also made drawings of the different description of pieces.

“After this investigation they marked on their memorandums the number of the lot and the results of their investigations. Everything we had to sell went through a similar ordeal so that to us, who were lookers on and owners of the property, nothing could be more tedious. After the goods had been sufficiently examined, a day was appointed for a sale, in the city of Nangasacca, and was conducted with the greatest fairness. Captain Derby and myself went into the city attended by the requisite number of officers, and proceeded to what the Dutch call the Geltchamber where we found one or more of the upper Banyoses[31] seated in their usual state, and a general attendance of merchants. We were placed where we could see all that was going on and received such explanations as were requisite to an understanding of the whole business. The goods being all disposed of, we were escorted back to the Island with much formality, not however, until a day had been appointed by the great men for the delivery of the goods.

“Delivering these adventures was a great affair, and it was a number of days before the whole was taken away. No person in this country (who has not traded with people who have so little intercourse with the world) can have an idea of the trouble we had in delivering this little invoice which would not have been an hour’s work in Salem. We finally, after a great trial of our patience, finished delivering goods, and articles that did not come up to the pattern were taken at diminished prices.

“On the 20th September, 1801, we went into the city of Nangasacca. The first place we went to was Facquia’s, an eminent stuff merchant. Here we were received with great politeness and entertained in such a manner as we little expected. We had set before us for a repast, pork, fowls, eggs, boiled fish, sweetmeats, cakes, various kinds of fruit, sakey and tea. The lady of the house was introduced, who drank tea with each of us as is the custom of Japan. She appeared to be a modest woman.

View of Nagasaki before Japan was opened to commerce, showing the island of Deshima and the Dutch trading post

“The place we next visited was a temple to which we ascended by at least two hundred stone steps. We saw nothing very remarkable in this building excepting its size, which was very large, though in fact we were only admitted to an outer apartment as there appeared to be religious ceremonies going on within. Adjoining this was the burying-ground. In this ground was the tomb of one of their Governors, which was made of stone and very beautifully wrought. We next visited another temple also on the side of a hill and built of stone. The inside presented a great degree of neatness. It consisted of a great many apartments, in some of which were images; in one, a kind of altar, was a lamp which was continually burning. In another were several long pieces of boards, painted black with an inscription to the memory of some deceased Emperor or Governor. Before each of these was a cup of tea which they informed us was renewed every day. There were other apartments which the priests probably occupied, as there were many of them passing in and out. They are dressed like the other Japanese, excepting that their outside garments were all black and their heads shaved all over.

“From this we went to the glass house which was on a small scale, thence to a lacquer merchants where we were entertained with great hospitality. Thence we went to a tea-house or hotel where we dined. After dinner we were entertained with various feats of dancing and tumbling. Toward dark we returned to the Island and so much was the crowd in the streets to see us pass that it was with difficulty that we could get along. The number of children we saw was truly astonishing. The streets of the city are narrow and inconvenient to walk in as they are covered with loose stones as large as paving stones. At short distances you have to go up or down flights of stone steps. At the end of every street is a gate which is locked at night. They have no kinds of carriages, for it would be impossible to use them in such streets.

“The houses are one or two stories, built of wood; the exterior appearance is mean, but within they are very clean and neat. The floors are covered with mats, and it is considered a piece of ill manners to tread on them without first taking off the shoes. The Japanese dress much alike. That of the man consists first of a loose gown which comes down as low as the ankles; over this is worn a kind of petticoat which comes as low as the other; these are made of silk or cotton. The petticoat does not go higher than the hips. Over the shoulders they wear a shawl, generally of black crape, and around the waist a band of silk or cotton. Through this band the officers of the government put their swords, and they are the only persons allowed to carry these instruments.

“The middle part of the head is all shaved, the remaining hair which is left on each side and behind, is then combed together and made very stiff with gum mixed with oil, and then turned up on top of the head in a little club almost as large as a man’s thumb. This is the universal fashion with rich and poor, excepting the priests.

“The poorer classes do not wear the silk petticoat and the coolies and other laborers at the time we were there, threw all their clothing off excepting a cloth around their middle when at work. The dress of the woman is the long gown with large sleeves, and is very like that of the men. They suffer the hair to grow long, which is made stiff with gum and oil and then is turned up on top of the head where it is secured with various turtle-shell ornaments.

“The Japanese observed one fast when we were there. It was in remembrance of the dead. The ceremonies were principally in the night. The first of which was devoted to feasting, at which they fancy their departed friends to be present; the second and third nights the graves which are lighted with paper lamps and situated on the side of a hill make a brilliant appearance. On the fourth night at 3 o’clock the lamps are all brought down to the water and put into small straw barques with paper sails, made for the occasion, and after putting in rice, fruit, etc., they are set afloat. This exhibition is very fine. On the death of their parents they abstain from flesh and fish forty-nine days and on the anniversary they keep the same fast, but do not do it for any other relations.

“As the time was approaching for our departure we began to receive our returns from the interior brought many hundred miles. These consisted of the most beautiful lacquered ware, such as waiters, writing desks, tea-caddies, knife boxes, tables, etc. These were packed in boxes so neat that in any other country they would be considered cabinet work. We also received a great variety of porcelain, and house brooms of superior quality. The East India Company’s cargo had been loading some time previous.

“The Company’s ships have been obliged to take their departure from the anchorage opposite Nangasacca on a certain day to the lower roads, no matter whether it blew high or low, fair or foul, even if a gale, and a thousand boats should be required to tow them down. We of course had to do as our predecessors had done. Early in November we went to this anchorage and remained a few days when we sailed for Batavia where we arrived safely after a passage of one month.”

Thus did one of the first Americans that ever invaded Japan with a note-book record his random impressions. He and his shipmates saw the old Japan of a feudal age, generations before the jinrickshaw and the Cook’s tourist swarmed in the streets of Nagasaki. Japanese customs have been overturned since then. The men no longer wear their hair “turned up on top of the head in a little club,” but have succumbed to the scissors and the cropped thatch of the European. In the modern Japan, however, which builds her own battleships and railroads, there still survives the imaginative sentiment that sets afloat the “little straw barques with paper sails,” illumined with “paper lamps” freighting offerings to the memories and spirits of the dead. The twentieth century tourist on the deck of a Pacific liner in the Inland Sea may sight these fragile argosies drifting like butterflies to unknown ports, just as young George Cleveland watched them in Nagasaki harbor.

The Yankee seamen were more cordially received than other and later visitors. Six years after the voyage of the Margaret the English sloop-of-war Phaeton appeared off the coast of Nagasaki. It happened that the inhabitants of that city had been expecting the arrival of one of the Dutch vessels from Batavia, and were delighted when a ship was signaled from the harbor entrance. When the mistake was discovered the city and surrounding country were thrown into great excitement. Troops were called out to repel the enemy, who disappeared after taking fresh water aboard. As a tragic result of the incident the Governor of Nagasaki and five military commanders who had quite upset the province during this false alarm, committed suicide in the most dignified manner as the only way of recovering their self-respect.

Again in 1811, the Russian sloop-of-war Diana lay off the Bay of Kunashiri to fill her water casks. Cannon shot from a neighboring fort and the hasty arrival of troops were followed by a series of protracted explanations between ship and shore, after which the commander and five of his crew were invited to a conference. First they were entertained with tea and saki and later made prisoners and led in chains to Hakodate. After some delay they were released and put on board the Diana to continue the cruise without apology of any kind from the Japanese.

The Salem shipmasters, under the Dutch flag, were fortunate enough to be welcomed when the French, Russian and English were driven from the coasts of Japan as foemen and barbarians. They were the first and last Americans to trade with the Japanese nation until after Perry had emphasized his friendly messages with the silent yet eloquent guns of the Susquehanna, Mississippi, Saratoga and Plymouth.

The Margaret, “than which a finer, better fitted or better manned ship never left the port of Salem,” deserved to win from the seas whose distant reaches she furrowed, a kindlier fate than that which overtook her only eight years after her famous voyage to Japan. Her end was so rarely tragic that it looms large, even now, in the moving annals of notable shipwrecks. There exists a rare pamphlet, the title page of which, framed in a heavy border of black, reads as follows:

“Some Particulars of the Melancholy Shipwreck of the
Margaret, William Fairfield, Master, on her
Passage from Naples to Salem.
Having on board Forty-six Souls.
To which is Added a Short Occasional Sermon
and a Hymn
Printed for the Author 1810.”

The little pamphlet, frayed and yellow, makes no pretence of literary treatment. It relates events with the bald brevity of a ship’s log, as if the writer had perceived the futility of trying to picture scenes that were wholly beyond the power of words. The Margaret left Naples on the 10th of April, 1810, with a crew of fifteen, and thirty-one passengers. These latter were the captains, mates or seamen of American vessels which had been confiscated by Napoleon’s orders in the harbors of the Mediterranean.

Aboard the Margaret were masters and men from Salem and Beverly, Boston and Baltimore, all of them prime American sailors of the old breed, shorn of all they possessed except their lives, which most of them were doomed to lose while homeward bound as passengers. “They passed the Gut of Gibraltar the 22nd of April,” says the pamphleteer, “—nothing of importance occurred until Sunday the 20th of May, when about meridian, in distress of weather, the ship was hove on her beam ends and totally disabled. Every person on board being on deck reached either the bottom or side of the ship and held on, the sea making a continual breach over her. During this time their boats were suffering much damage, being amongst the wreck of spars; they were with great difficulty enabled to obtain the long-boat, which by driving too the butts, and filling the largest holes with canvas, rendered it possible for them to keep her above water by continual bailing, still keeping her under the lee of the ship. It was now about 7 o’clock in the evening, the boat being hauled near the ship for the purpose of getting canvass, oakum, etc., to stop the leak, as many men as could reach the long boat jumped into her, and when finding the boat would again be sunk if they remained near the ship they were obliged to veer her to the leeward of the ship about 15 or 20 fathoms. They had not lain there long before one man from the ship jumped into the sea and swam for the boat, which he reached and was taken in. But finding at the same time that all were determined to pursue the same course they were obliged to veer the boat still further from the ship.

“They remained in this situation all night. The morning following was moderate and the sea tolerable smooth, at which time the people on the wreck were about half of them on the taff rail and the remainder on the bowsprit and windlass, every other part being under water. And they kept continually entreating to be let come into the boat. At this time casks of brandy and other articles of the cargo were drifting among the spars, etc., from amongst which they picked up a mizzen top gallant sail, 2 spars, 5 oars, 1 cask of Oil, 1 (drowned) pig, 1 goat, 1 bag of bread, and they hove from the wreck a gallon keg of brandy. They then fixed a sail for the boat from the mizzen top gallant sail.

“It was now about eleven o’clock when the people on the wreck had secured 2 quadrants, 2 compasses, 1 hhd. of water, bread, flour and plenty of provisions, as they frequently informed those in the boat, but would not spare any to them unless they consented to come alongside the ship, which they refused to do fearing their anxiety for life would induce them to crowd in and again sink the boat. One of them jumped into the sea and made for the small boat which he reached, but finding they would not take him in, he returned to the wreck.

“At about meridian, finding they were determined to come from the wreck to the long boat, they cut the rope which held them to the wreck. The wind being to the southward and westward and moderate, they made their course as near as possible for the islands of Corvo or Flores, having two men continually employed in bailing the boat. In this situation they proceeded by the best of their judgment (having neither compass nor quadrant) for five days until they fell in with the brig Poacher of Boston, Captain Dunn from Alicante, who took them on board, treated them with every attention, and landed them in their native land on the 19th of June.

“When the long boat left the wreck there remained on board 31 souls. They immediately made preparations for their remaining days by securing on a stage they had erected for that purpose, all the necessaries of life they could obtain from the wreck. For the first week, they had a plenty of salt meat, pork, hams, flour, water, etc. They also caught a turtle and having found a tinder box in a chest they kindled a fire in the ship’s bell and cooked it, making a soup which afforded them a warm dinner, and the only one they were able to cook.

“They remained under the direction of Captain Larcom, whom they had appointed to act as their head, until Sunday, the 27th of May (seven days), when the upper deck came off by the violence of the sea. At this time they lost both the provisions and the water they had secured on the stage. In this distressing situation, Captain Larcom and four others took the yawl, shattered as she was. The other twenty-six went forward on the bowsprit with two gallons of wine and a little salt meat, where another stage was erected on the bows. At this time the water being only knee-deep on the lower deck they were enabled to obtain hams, etc., from below but which for want of water were of little service. And the wine before mentioned was their only drink for seven days.

“They procured a cask of brandy from the lower hold, of which they drank so freely (being parched with thirst) that fourteen of them died the succeeding night. They made one attempt to intercept a sail (four having passed) from which the boat returned unsuccessful. Captain Larcom with four others took the boat, there being only three others in a situation to leave the wreck, and the others preferring to remain on it rather than venture in the boat. They (Captain L. and 4 others) left the wreck, by observation 39°, 12′, and steering N. W. when after twenty-three days had elapsed, and two of them having died, the boat was picked up by Captain S. L. Davis from Lisbon for Gloucester, where they arrived on the 18th of July.”

In this abrupt manner the story ends, and perhaps it is just as well. Those left alive and clinging to the submerged wreck numbered ten, and there they perished without voice or sign to tell how long they struggled and hoped against the inevitable end. The three survivors who escaped in the yawl lived for twenty-three days almost without food or water. When they landed they told how “previous to their departure from the Margaret they went under the bowsprit and joined in prayer for deliverance with Captain Janvin of Newburyport. This gentleman who remained behind had conducted a similar service daily for his companions since their shipwreck, and many of them united in his petitions quite seriously. Then the five men in the yawl took a solemn leave of the ten survivors, of whom no farther tidings has ever reached us. With two and a half gallons of brandy and a little port, the adventurers in so small a boat for sixteen days pursued their anxious and afflictive course. Then they caught rain in their handkershifs and by wringing them out succeeded in partially allaying their thirst. Later they caught some rudder fish and eat them.”

There are old men living in Salem who can recall John Very, second mate of the brig Romp, who was one of the three that lived to be picked up in the yawl. When the boys used to ask him to spin the yarn of the wreck of the Margaret he would shake his head and become morose and sad. These were memories that he wished to forget, and it is pleasanter even to a later generation to recall the Margaret, the fine ship newly launched, with her crew of stalwart young men “in the bloom of youth,” bravely setting sail on her maiden voyage to find the way to mysterious Japan in the faraway year of Eighteen Hundred and One.