Plymouth memories of an octogenarian

by William T. Davis

Plymouth was not lacking in this sort of enterprise, and the writer proposes to sketch one or two of the “run-a-ways,” to show the character of the men of those days who a little later did the country good service as “privateersmen” when the war between the United States and England was fought.

Anticipating that these attempts to break the embargo would be made in spite of stringent regulations, orders were given to the customs officers at every port to keep strict watch and prevent vessels from going to sea. Accordingly at Plymouth, Water street was nightly patrolled, and a guard boat well manned, and in charge of Capt. Joseph Bradford, was stationed in Beach channel to intercept any outward bound vessel which might succeed in getting away from the wharves. With these precautions it would seem to have been difficult to evade successfully the minions of the law and run out a cargo of fish in defiance of all the Federal government could do to prevent it, yet it was done.

The first schooner was the Hannah, lying at Hedge’s, now known as Pilgrim wharf, which then had two or three warehouses on it, one of them containing fish. On a dark night an industrious gang of men quietly loaded the vessel from the warehouse, but unluckily, before their work was completed, the tide fell so that the Hannah grounded, and could not get to sea that night as intended. Next day the custom house officers noted that the vessel did not rise buoyantly with the tide, so going on board they lifted the hatches, and at once discovered “what was the matter with Hannah.”

Felicitating themselves that they had caught their mouse, and determining that there should be no escape, they stripped the vessel “to a girtline,” that is, they removed all her sails together with the running and standing rigging, leaving nothing aloft but a single block on each mast through which a line was rove for the purpose of hoisting a man when the craft was to be re-rigged. All the gear was carted away, and, while the fish were left on board, the Hannah being absolutely reduced to bare poles, the officials were perfectly certain that they had made it impossible for her to take her cargo to the West Indies. Of course the laugh went round town at the expense of the defeated owners, and the officials were “cocky” over their smartness. Weeks went by and the incident passed out of mind, the deeply laden Hannah meantime lying in her berth and daily rising and falling with the tide. All the same her voyage to Martinique was made up, her captain and crew engaged, and the man who was to rig and take her out of dock had his gang picked for the purpose, and only awaited his opportunity. This man was Capt. Samuel Doten, father of our townsmen, the late Major Samuel H. and Capt. Charles C. Doten, one of the most energetic shipmasters of his day, whom nothing ever daunted, and who liked nothing better than a bit of dare-devil business, being perfectly competent for anything pertaining to seamanship or calling for executive ability. These qualities were well known in this town, so naturally he was “in it” with the Hannah. Capt. George Adams, another old sea dog, was his right-hand man in the part he had to do, and there were two or three others, who could handle a marlinspike and make a knot or seizing as well in darkness as at noonday.

Capt. Doten lived at the foot of the Green, on what is now Sandwich street and kept a boat on the south shore near the place, where he afterwards built the wharf, now owned by Capt. E. B. Atwood. The long waited opportunity came one night with a howling southeast rain storm, from which the Water street watch sought shelter in one of the stores. There the officers with pipes and toddy made themselves comfortable, while right before their noses the Hannah’s decks were alive with her own crew, and Capt. Doten’s gang of riggers, who had come alongside in boats. A loft which contained the gear of another vessel, likewise clean stripped by her careful owner, so her rigging might not get weather worn in the months of the tie-up, was broken open and the shrouds and stays were carried on board the Hannah. Capt. Adams was the man to go aloft and put the eyes of the rigging over the mast heads, and Capt. Doten arranged for a system of wooden tags to be tied to the pieces as they went up, so that by feeling the notches cut in the tags, Capt. Adams would know whether what he received belonged on the starboard or port side. So it was also with the blocks and halliards, and all being understood, Capt. Adams took his place in the sling tied in the end of the girtline, and was soon hoisted to the crosstrees. The hours passed, but before daylight the Hannah was rigged, halliards rove fore and aft, and sails bent, though both rigging and sails were too large for her, belonging as they did to another vessel of greater tonnage. Capt. Doten had met this difficulty in the case of the standing rigging, which was too long, by turning up the ends of the shrouds over hand spikes used for shearpoles, and passing the lanyards from the deadeyes at the rail also over the handspikes, his deck men then setting taut with the watch tackles they had brought, and seizing all off securely. The sails were made smaller simply by putting in a reef.

All was now ready, and the Hannah cast off and dropped down to the end of the wharf. Capt. Doten, who was a good pilot for the harbor, took charge, and with the hoisting of the jib the vessel quickly fell off before the wind and ran directly along the shore for High Cliff, there then being no Long wharf in the way. This course was taken to avoid the guard boat which was supposed to be patrolling the channel along by the Beach, the usual way of leaving the port. It was the top of high water and there was little likelihood that with proper care the vessel would touch anything. At High Cliff Capt. Doten ordered the mainsail set and pointed the Hannah’s nose for the open sea. Then giving the helm to her captain, whose name the writer unfortunately has never heard, he gave the course to steer, and the schooner went romping down by Beach Point at a pace which left no chance for the guard boat to intercept her, when from away up Beach channel Capt. Bradford descried the fleeting sail. Before getting far down the harbor Capt. Doten and his men wished the Hannah and her crew a successful voyage, and jumping into their boat towing alongside were, before the early morning, snugly stowed away in their respective homes. Of course there was great excitement when it was found the bird had flown, and instantly the conclusion was reached that “Sam Doten had run away with the Hannah,” so the officers at once repaired to his house where his wife was unconcernedly getting breakfast, and Capt. Doten, having apparently just arisen, was leisurely dressing. The officers were greatly surprised at finding him and he equally surprised to learn from them that the Hannah had got away, nor did he hesitate to express his gratification that the custom house gang had been so thoroughly outwitted.

The Hannah made an excellent run to the West Indies and arrived safely at Martinique, where she sold her fish at $20 per quintal of 112 pounds and the vessel also was disposed of, the aggregate sum which ultimately got around to her owners being a very handsome one for the venture.

The Hope and the Cutter.

The brig Hope was the next Plymouth vessel to “run the embargo.” She belonged to William Holmes of this town, and loaded a cargo of dry fish at Provincetown, where she was seized by the customs officers of that port, and anchored in the harbor, with a revenue cutter commanded by Capt. Thomas Nicolson of Plymouth lying near at hand to prevent her from going to sea. Under these circumstances her owner induced Capt. Samuel Doten, who had “assisted” in the Hannah adventure, to become the principal in “cutting out” the Hope from under the guns of the revenue vessel.

Selecting his crew, Capt. Doten took charge of the brig and waited for things to come around to his liking. What he wanted was a smart northeast gale, which is a fair wind out of Provincetown, though of course a pretty rough affair to contend with in the open bay, and against which he would have to work his vessel out past the Cape after getting clear of the harbor. No abler or more daring seaman ever trod a deck, and, whatever the chances, Capt. Doten was ready to take them, so when one night the weather shut in “nasty” with indications of the wished for gale the next day, he made his preparations. A mooring line was run out aft to keep the brig’s head toward the harbor mouth, so that her square sails should immediately fill before the wind when hoisted. On the yards the gaskets keeping the furled sails in place were nearly cut off, so that while they still preserved the shape, they would part and allow the topsails to be hoisted without having to send men aloft to loose them as usual when getting under way, much depending on gaining a few minutes over the cutter at the start. Vessels of those days had hemp cables, and Capt. Doten meant to “cut and run” when the decisive moment came.