In 1833 Jacob Covington, James Bartlett, Jr., Josiah Robbins, Jacob H. Loud and John B. Thomas, bought the bark Triton of 314 49-95 tons, built in Durham, N. H., and in November she sailed for the Pacific under the command of Mason Taber. She made two other voyages, one in 1835, under the command of Thomas Russell, and one in 1838 under the command of Chandler Burgess, Jr., of Plymouth. On her first voyage William Collingwood of Plymouth was one of the crew.
In 1838 James Bartlett, Jr., Daniel Jackson, Abraham Jackson, John B. Thomas, Jacob H. Loud, Nathaniel Russell, Nathaniel Russell, Jr., Allen Danforth, Thomas Russell and the heirs of Jacob Covington of Plymouth, and Thomas Russell of Nantucket, bought the bark Mary and Martha of 316 56-95 tons, built in Westbrook, Me., and in December she sailed for the Pacific on her only voyage from Plymouth, under the command of Thomas Russell. Wm. Collingwood of Plymouth was one of her crew.
The brig Yeoman, afterwards changed to a bark, was built in Plymouth in 1833, by James Spooner, Southworth Shaw, Ichabod Shaw, Ichabod Shaw, Jr., Benjamin Bagnall, Nathaniel C. Lanman, Wm. M. Jackson and Stephen Turner, and made several voyages to the South Atlantic, under the command of John Gooding and James M. Clark, and on several of her voyages George Collingwood was one of her crew.
The brig James Monroe, of 114 91-95 tons, built in Sandwich, was owned by Isaac L. Hedge, George Churchill, Nathaniel C. Lanman, Benjamin Hathaway, Southworth Barnes, John B. Thomas, Ichabod Shaw, Comfort Bates, Joseph W. Hodgkins, Nathaniel Russell, Albert G. Goodwin, Isaac Barnes, Thomas Hedge and Nathaniel M. Davis, and was engaged in the Atlantic fishery, under the command of Simeon Dike of Plymouth, and probably made a second voyage.
The schooner Exchange, of 99 91-95 tons, owned by Alonzo D. Scudder, Henry F. Jackson, James Collins, Wm. Nelson, and Rufus B. Bradford, was under the command of James King of Plymouth, and Rufus Hopkins of Provincetown. She made four voyages, in three of which George Collingwood was sailor, and in one, mate, and William Collingwood was a seaman when she was wrecked in the West India waters.
The schooner Maracaibo, 93 53-95 tons, built in Plymouth, and owned by Atwood L. Drew, Josiah Drew, Ephraim Harlow, James Doten, Ellis B. Bramhall, James Morton, Bartlett Ellis, Andrew L. Russell, Benjamin Barnes, 2d, David Turner, Lemuel Simmons, John Harlow, 3d, Robert Hatch, Nathaniel Holmes and David Holmes, engaged also in the Atlantic fishery, under the command of Capt. Pope and George Collingwood. She was lost September 19, 1846, off Bermuda.
The only other vessels engaged in the whale fishery were the schooner Mercury, of 74 34-95 tons, built in Middleboro and owned by Isaac Barnes, Southworth Barnes, Ivory L. Harlow, and Charles Goodwin, and commanded by Capt. Nickerson, and the schooner Vesper, of 95 52-95 tons, built in Essex, and owned by Bradford Barnes, Jr., William Atwood, Samuel Robbins, Jr., Benjamin Barnes, Bradford Barnes, Ellis Barnes, Nathaniel C. Barnes, Nathaniel E. Harlow, Bartlett Ellis, Joseph White, Robert Hatch, Heman Cobb, Jr., Corban Barnes, Jeremiah Farris, Samuel N. Diman, David Turner, Charles Goodwin, Southworth Barnes, Joab Thomas, Jr., Nathan H. Holmes, David Holmes, Ellis Drew, Ebenezer Ellis, Jr., and Edwin A. Perry. The Vesper afterwards entered the fishing and merchant service.
James Bartlett, the projector of the enterprise, which seemed to promise new life, and an aroused activity in Plymouth, stood in the front rank among the business men of his native town. He was the son of Capt. James Bartlett, a successful shipmaster in days when it was necessary that a captain engaged in foreign trade should be something more than a navigator and seaman. He had, to be sure, his sailing orders from his owners, seemingly controlling his actions, but sailing orders, in the many which I have read, written by my grandfather, really left the fortunes of a voyage to the discretion of the master. Capt. Bartlett died December 22, 1840, at the age of 81. There were others whom I might mention, some still living in Plymouth, who also represented the best class of merchant captains.
Mr. Bartlett, when quite a young man, was appointed supercargo on board a ship belonging to Barnabas Hedge, engaged in foreign trade. Such a position, with the responsibilities it imposed, was the best popular training school for a commercial life, and consequently when he projected the whaling industry in 1821, he possessed all the qualifications for its successful management. He occupied for some years the easterly part of the Winslow House on North street, but in 1832 he bought the LeBaron estate on Leyden street, at the corner of LeBaron’s Alley, and built the house now occupied by his grandson, Wm. W. Brewster, where he died July 29, 1845, fifty-nine years of age.
With regard to the packet service of Plymouth there were four packets within my lifetime, which are not within my memory, the Belus, Capt. Thomas Atwood; the Falcon, Capt. Samuel Briggs; the Sally Curtis, Capt. Samuel Robbins, and the Betsey, Capt. Isaac Robbins. There was a fifth, the Argo, Capt. Sylvanus Churchill, which I have a hazy recollection of seeing at her berth at the end of Davis’ wharf. Of the eight succeeding packets I have very definite pictures in my mind. These, in the order of their probable ages, were the Polly, Eagle, Splendid, Hector, Harriet, Atalanta, Thetis and Russell. The Polly was a black sloop, a dull sailer, unattractive in appearance, and poorly equipped for passengers. Her captain was Joseph Cooper, who lived in High street at the upper corner of Cooper’s alley, leading to Town Square. At the northerly end of his garden on Church street, then known as Back street, there was a store house which, when he retired from the packet service in 1835, he altered into a grocery store, which he kept until his death, which occurred November 25, 1851, in the 83d year of his age. He was one of the last grocers in town to keep spirituous liquors for sale, and his stock in these was confined to Cicily Madeira wine. In 1835, or thereabouts, one of my mother’s brothers, living in Nova Scotia, arrived unexpectedly one evening on the stage, and finding that she was out of wine to dispense the hospitalities of the occasion, she sent me with one of those square bottles made to fit partitions in the closet of the sideboard, up to Capt. Cooper’s for two quarts of the above mentioned wine. I had nearly performed my errand in safety, when slipping on the icy sidewalk I fell near the doorstep and broke the bottle. Enough wine, however, was saved for immediate purposes, but it was the last wine my mother ever bought.