Plymouth memories of an octogenarian

by William T. Davis

Josiah Robbins occupied a store at the head of Robbins’ wharf. In looking over the files of the Old Colony Memorial to verify my recollection of Water street, I find that he was there as early as 1827, and in that year advertised the sale of old currant wine. The temperance movement began in the above year, and I think in the sale of wines the lines must have been drawn at the product of currants, as the following officers of the Temperance Society organized in 1827 were chosen: Nathaniel Russell, President; Zabdiel Sampson, Vice-President; Wm. Thomas, Secretary; and Ichabod Morton, Nathan Hayward, Jacob Covington, Josiah Robbins, Thomas Atwood, John Russell, Thomas Russell and Isaac L. Hedge, Executive Committee. It is probable that up to that time every grocery store contained ardent spirits in its stock, and on the 8th of September, 1827, I. & E. Morton, whose senior partner was one of the above executive committee, advertised concerning their store at Wellingsley that “that prolific mother of miseries, that giant foe to human happiness, shall no longer have a dwelling place under our roof.” The movement was followed up by temperance lectures delivered in the church at Training Green by Mr. Daniel Frost, and total abstinence pledges were signed by nearly one quarter of the entire population of the town. Though the grocers as a body abandoned the sale of spirits, obedience to popular sentiment was by no means universal. Family use and individual consumption were largely diminished, and with the erection in 1835 of the frame of the double house on the corner of Howland street, the practice of using liquor at “raisings” ceased. In the ship yards, however, for some years after that date, work was regularly knocked off every day at eleven and four o’clock for the distribution among the men of New England rum. Public opinion, however, without its re-inforcement by law, finally prevailed, and I should say that from 1835 to 1840 it would have been impossible to buy either ardent spirits or wines, except at the hotels, and that there were less than a dozen houses in which they could be found. I am inclined to think that even under the operation of stringent laws there has been a reaction, and that they are now more generally, though not excessively used than they were sixty-five years ago. It cannot, however, be denied, that if total abstinence less widely prevails, intemperance is less common, and more severely condemned. May it not be true that public opinion is more potent than law?

I have said that in 1832 there were three counting houses on Water street, meaning such as were engaged in the business of foreign navigation. These were D. & A. Jackson, Nelson & Harlow, and Nathaniel Carver. The oldest and most important was that of D. & A. Jackson, which derived both its business and character from the old firm of Daniel and Charles Jackson, father and uncle of the members of the house. It did not immediately follow in chronological order the old house of Daniel and Charles Jackson, as for a time after the death of Charles Jackson in 1818 Daniel, the surviving partner, formed a partnership with his son Jacob, under the firm name of Daniel Jackson and son, which was dissolved in 1828. In this last year the firm of D. & A. Jackson had its origin. Though as far as the public knew only Daniel and Abraham were members of the firm, that at a later date their younger brother, Isaac Carver Jackson, became associated with them, there can be no doubt. It is within my recollection that the ship Iconium, the last ship built by the firm, was built in 1848 or thereabouts on the Sheepscott river, under Mr. Isaac C. Jackson’s exclusive supervision.

The Jackson brothers were a remarkable set of men, six in number, all about six feet in height, gentlemen in bearing and dress, and with their blue coats and brass buttons, and in summer, white beaver hats, white trousers, low shoes and white stockings, their appearance in our streets gave character and expression to the town. They were all confident, self-centered men, who knew what they wanted and how to accomplish it, meddling in no man’s business and permitting no man to meddle in theirs; neither asking for nor offering advice. They had means sufficient to carry out their enterprises and never sought outside of their family and their commanders, the contribution of a timber head to their ships.

The first vessels built by D. & A. Jackson were the Echo and Arno fishing vessels, which were sold. The Arno was probably the vessel of that name, which was many years one of the Plymouth fishing fleet. They next built a topsail schooner named the Janus, which made one voyage under command of Capt. Daniel Jackson to Russia, and was sold. In 1829 they built the brig Janus, commanded by Capt. William Holmes, who died in Valparaiso, May 10, 1831, while in command. They next built the brig Rhine of which Capt. Frederick Robbins was master a number of years, and which was finally lost on Fire Island. The brigs Maze and Autumn followed, engaged in general freighting business, and the brig Ganges commanded by Capt. Phineas Leach, and also the brig Cyclops. All of these vessels, including others up to perhaps 1835, were built in what was afterwards known as Battles’ lumber yard. The brig Eurotas, one of the Jackson fleet, was bought in Duxbury and placed in command of Capt. Eleazer Stevens Turner, which he commanded until he took command of the ship Thracian, when he was succeeded in the Eurotas by Capt. Ira Potter.

How well I remember those bright waisted brigs, graceful and weatherly, and especially the Cyclops with her figurehead representing the mythological giant with a single eye in the middle of his forehead.

This head was doubtless the work of Samuel W. Gleason, who came to Plymouth from Middleboro and exhibited much talent as a wood carver. Two of his sons continued in business in Plymouth as long as ship building was active in Plymouth and Duxbury and Kingston, when they removed to Boston, and achieved some very commendable work on the clipper ships of the California and Australian period.

The Jackson firm were not long content with the building of brigs. While such vessels were well enough adapted to the iron trade, they were unsuited to the carrying of sugar from the West Indies to the North of Europe, and still more unsuited to the transportation of cotton. It was not an uncommon thing for vessels in the sugar trade bound from Havana to Cronstadt, to put into Plymouth to take out a clean bill of health. I remember well the ship Harvest, Capt. Lawton with George Warren supercargo, belonging to Barnabas Hedge, anchoring in Saquish cove, and proceeding with a new bill of health. The complete abandonment of the brig was effected when, at a later period, coal transportation became extensive on the Delaware and other rivers. The last full rigged brig in Plymouth was the old brig Hannah, which was owned by Barnabas Hedge, and commanded many years by Capt. Isaac Bartlett in the West India trade. Her last service was on a fishing trip to the straits, commanded by Capt. Ignatius Pierce, the father of the late Capts. Ignatius and Ebenezer Pierce. The last American brig ever seen by me was in Salem harbor about thirty years ago, engaged in the African trade.

The ships Thracian and Persian were built in a yard about where the foot of Brewster street now is, by James Collins, master carpenter, who had already built the ships Brenda and Dromo for Arthur French of Boston, a brother-in-law of Abraham Jackson. The Jackson fleet of ships was completed by the purchase in Maine of the Tyrian and the building of the Iconium. Of each of these ships I have something to say. Many a trenail turned out by me in a trenail machine on a Saturday afternoon was put into the bottoms of the Thracian and Persian, and many a cracker and slice of cheese have I eaten in the ship house at their launchings. Capt. Frederick Robbins was transferred from the brig Rhine to the Persian, Capt. Eleazer Stevens Turner from the brig Eurotas to the Thracian, and Capt. Daniel Lothrop Jackson, son of the senior partner of the house, was given the command of the Tyrian.

Capt. Turner was eventually transferred to the Iconium, on which ship he was finally succeeded by Capt. William Davie. These ships were first class ships in every particular, and for one or each of them the schooner Capitol was bought in Maine and placed in command of Capt. Richard Rogers, who was sent to Virginia with wood choppers, teams and provisions and a gang of carpenters under Benjamin Bagnall, to get out frames on a tract of timber land, which the Jacksons had bought or leased for the purpose.

In December, 1846, I was in Marseilles waiting for a steamer to take me to Genoa and Naples. Having been in Paris away from the sea six months or more, I have never before or since experienced the pleasure which a sight of the Mediterranean gave me. My first excursion from the hotel, after my arrival, was as it would have been at home—down among the shipping. The new harbor had not then been opened, and the ships were made fast with their sterns to the mole. Seeing an American flag at one mast head, I soon read on the stern of the ship, “Persian of Plymouth.” Inquiring of the ship keeper if Capt. Robbins, whom I knew was the captain, was on board, and learning that he was not, I walked along the mole, looking into the various stores, and soon saw him astride a chair, club house fashion, with his arms folded on the back, looking at me as I entered. During the three days I was obliged to wait for my steamer, I spent a half hour each day with him on board his ship. He was soon to sail for New Orleans, and as I afterwards learned he died while on the passage, or soon after his arrival. He was succeeded by Capt. Thomas Appling, who had commanded the Cyclops, who died at sea of yellow fever, and was succeeded by Capt. Lewis Robbins. After leaving Capt. Robbins I walked farther down the mole and read on the stern of a bark flying the stars and stripes, the familiar name, “Griffin of Boston.” I knew Capt. Charles Blake, her owner and commander, who lived directly opposite my grandmother’s house in Winthrop place. His vessel was half yacht, half trader, and sometimes with guests, and sometimes without. He was a skimmer of the seas, taking comfort and pleasure, for which his freight list might pay in whole or in part. While I was at Naples he came over and anchored his bark directly in front of the hotel where I was stopping.