“How does it happen that the Commanders of French vessels, with thirty-four schools of Hydrography established in the Kingdom, either know not, or do not wish to know, how to calculate the longitude of their vessels by Lunar distances, while even the cooks and negroes of American vessels understand it?
“I will now relate what I once witnessed on board an American vessel, the Cleopatra’s Barge, which arrived in the month of July, 1817, at the port of Genoa from Salem, one of the handsomest Towns in the State of Massachusetts, U. S. A., Lat. 42° 35′ 20″ N., Long. 73° 9′ 30″ W. All the city crowded to see this magnificent palace of Neptune; more than 20,000 persons had visited this superb floating palace, and were astonished at its beauty, luxury and magnificence. I went among others. The owner was on board; he was a gentleman of fortune of Salem, who had amassed great riches during the late war with Great Britain. He was brother to the Secretary of the Navy of the United States.
“This elegant vessel was built for his own amusement, after his own ideas, upon a plan and model new in very many respects, and was considered the swiftest sailer in America. He had traveled or sailed for his pleasure in this costly jewel (bijou) that appeared more the model of a cabinet of curiosities than a real vessel. He had left America in this charming shell (coquille) for the purpose of visiting Europe and making the tour of the Mediterranean & had already touched at the ports of Spain, France, Italy, the Archipelago, Dardanelles, coasts of Asia, Africa, etc. We have since heard of the death of this gentleman, a short time after his return to Salem. His name was George Crowninshield—he was of German origin—his ancestor was a Saxon officer who, having the misfortune to kill his adversary in a duel, sought refuge in America. The captain of this beautiful vessel was a lively old gentleman, a cousin to Mr. Crowninshield—his son, a young man, was also on board. I shall not here enter into detail concerning the remarkable construction of this vessel, still less her splendor—the public journals have already noticed them.
Benjamin Crowninshield
“In making some enquiries respecting my friends and correspondents in Philadelphia and Boston, among others I mentioned Dr. Bowditch. ‘He is the friend of our family, and our neighbor in Salem,’ replied the old Captain. ‘My son, whom you see there, was his pupil; it is properly he, and not myself, that navigates this vessel; question him and see if he has profited by his instructions.’
“I observed to this young man, ‘you have had so excellent a teacher in Hydrography that you cannot fail of being well acquainted with the science. In making Gibralter what was the error in your longitude?’ The young man replied, ‘Six miles.’ ‘Your calculations were then very correct; how did you keep your ship’s accounts?’ ‘By chronometers and by Lunar observations.’ ‘You then can ascertain your Longitude by Lunar distances?’
“Here my young captain appearing to be offended with my question, replied with some warmth, ‘What! I know how to calculate Lunar distances! Our cook can do that!’ ‘Your cook!’ Here Mr. Crowninshield and the old Captain assured me, that the cook on board could calculate Longitude quite well; that his taste for it frequently led him to do it. ‘That is he,’ said the young man, pointing to a Negro in the after part of the vessel, with a white apron about his waist, a fowl in one hand, and a carving knife in the other.
‘Come here, John,’ said the old Captain to him, ‘this gentleman is surprised that you understand Lunar observations. Answer his questions.’ I asked, ‘By what method do you calculate Lunar distances?’ The cook answered, ‘It is immaterial—I use some time the method of Maskelyne, Lyons, or Bowditch, but I prefer that of Dunthorne, as I am more accustomed to it.’ I could hardly express my surprise at hearing that black-face answer in such a manner, with a bloody fowl and carving knife in his hands.
“‘Go,’ said Mr. Crowninshield, ‘lay aside your fowl and bring your books and journal and show your calculations to the gentleman.’ The cook returned with his books under his arms, consisting of Bowditch’s Practical Navigator, Maskelyne’s Requisite Tables, Hutton’s Logarithms and the Nautical Almanack, abridged from the Greenwich Edition. I saw all the calculations this Negro had made on his passage, of Latitude, Longitude, Apparent Time, etc. He replied to all my questions with admirable precision, not merely in the phrases of a cook, but in correct nautical language.