Wednesday, December 25, 2013

Rumor of Pierre: January 20, 1852

Speaking of Pierre, here is a knowing announcement from the Buffalo [New York] Daily Courier, Tuesday Morning, January 20, 1852:
LITERARY.—Late New York papers contain the following notices of American writers:  Washington Irving is in the city of new York on the business of the Cooper Monument Committee, preparing the celebration at which Bryant is to deliver the oration.  Nathaniel Hawthorne has exchanged the ice and snows of Lenox for a shelter at Newton, near Boston.  Herman Melville, at Pittsfield, is said to be engaged on a new work, soon to be issued by the Harpers….

Knowing yet somewhat premature, in the event. Well, even with the late angry additions it was all ready to go by mid-April, but Melville's unsuccessful wrangling with London publisher Richard Bentley delayed matters until the book actually came out in late July 1852.

Wonder which NY papers had this item and the Hawthorne news first, and when.

Orville Dewey repeated Lowell lectures on Human Destiny in New York City, January-February 1852

From The New York Public Library Digital Collections
UPDATE: Links are now provided below to the New York Daily Tribune articles on Orville Dewey's lecture series, where I found them in the database of Historical American Newspapers at the great Library of Congress Chronicling America site.

So Orville Dewey repeated his popular Lowell lectures on Human Destiny at the Church of the Messiah on Broadway in New York City.

In October and November 1851 Orville Dewey had lectured on The Problem of Human Destiny to full houses at the Lowell Institute in Boston.  Hershel Parker gives the dates in Melville Biography: An Inside Narrative, courtesy of Dennis Marnon:
“Dewey delivered 12 lectures on successive Tuesday and Thursday nights late in 1851:  Oct. 21 and 23, Oct. 28 and 30, Nov. 4 and 6, November 11 and 13, Nov. 18 and 20, Nov. 25 and 28.”
As Parker shows in his Herman Melville: A Biography V2 and, with Brian Higgins, Reading Melville's Pierre, the unmistakable influence of Dewey and his popular lecture title shows up in Book 17 of Melville's Pierre, when the young hero receives an obsequiously written request to lecture on "Human Destiny."  Higgins and Parker date the parody of Dewey's chosen subject to January 1852, when
"Melville remembered the pomposity and arrogance of the title of Dewey's lecture series and wrote the lecture title "Human Destiny" into his book as the ne plus ultra of fatuousness." --Reading Melville's Pierre - page 15
No doubt Melville knew of Dewey's popular Lowell lectures in Boston. Coolly practical Falsgrave and Plinlimmon both probably owe something to Dewey (Higgins and Parker 14-17).  That dig at Dewey's lectures on "Human Destiny" occurs in the first chapter that Melville seems to have added in anger after a big fight with his friend Evert Duyckinck, in early January.

Still, the timing of Dewey's repeat performances in New York suggestively coincides with Melville's latest additions and revisions to the manuscript of Pierre--completed before February 20, 1852 when his brother Allen signed the Harpers contract in New York (Parker, V2.93).  Yep, Human Destiny was the talk of the town when Pierre was finally turned over to the Harpers.

In Manhattan at the Church of the Messiah, Dewey gave eight lectures on Tuesdays and Thursdays, from January 27, 1852 (first in the series) to February 19, 1852 (eighth and final lecture).
Accounts of each lecture were published as follows in the New York Daily Tribune:
I. New York Daily Tribune, Wednesday, January 28, 1852
The Problem of Human Destiny.
LECTURE I. [Tuesday, January 27, 1852]
The course of lectures by Rev. Orville Dewey, on the Problem of Human Destiny, was opened last evening in the Church of the Messiah before a numerous audience. The special interest of the problem, said Dr Dewey, which he proposed to discuss consisted in the fact of the existence of evil. Without this, the condition of man on earth would present few mysteries. Floating down the easy current of existence, he would be a mere partaker of enjoyment; he would observe, but would not question; and content with the present, would not attempt to explore the future for the solution of his doubts. But evil exists. It throws its dark shadow over the fairest scenes of our present life. We are exposed to physical evil, which is pain, and to moral evil, which is sin. An irresistible instinct has always compelled the human intellect to pry into the reason for this condition of our being.

It may be said that the subject is above our comprehension. Man, in attempting to penetrate its depths, has been compared to a fly, attempting to explain the revolution of a wheel, by which he is carried round. But with this mock modesty, said Dr. D., I do not sympathize. It is the sentiment of the atheist or skeptic. It proceeds from arrogance rather than humility. Even the famous saying of Socrates, that he knew nothing but his own ignorance, had its origin in intellectual pride. For my own part, continued the lecturer, I make no claim to this philosophical ignorance. I venture to believe that I know something about the subject, and stand here to tell what it is. Not that I pretend to have wholly fathomed its infinite depths. I have not exhausted its illimitable wealth. Nor does the emigrant to California exhaust the affluent stores of her golden placers. But this fact does not forbid our engaging in the research with confidence, for we may be certain that some precious fruit will await our labor.

For after all, it is a problem which we propose to discuss. And a problem, by its etymology pro ballo Greek, means something which is thrown out for consideration, something to be examined on all sides, like a ball which is to be kept rolling. We may compare the universe to a ball, wound round with the mysteries of life, of which we endeavor to catch a glimpse in its rapid revolution, even if we cannot fathom its vast profundities. After a series of comments on the argument of Leibnitz, as set forth in the Theodice, Dr. D. said that he should explain the existence of evil on the following principles.

It is no limitation of the attributes of the Deity to assert that he cannot make a contradiction possible. The illustration is often used that God cannot make two mountains without a valley between them. But the question does not involve the consideration of power, in the slightest degree. It is not correct to say, that God cannot do the thing, but that the thing cannot be. It is an absurdity, in the nature of things. It follows from the nature of a triangle, that the sum of it angles is equal to three right angles. It cannot be otherwise. To ask whether God could not make a triangle, the three angles of which should be equal to five or seven right angles, is the same as to ask whether he could construct a figure, which should be a triangle and not a triangle at the same time, or in other words, whether he could make an impossibility possible.

Applying these principles to the question of the origin of evil, Dr. D. argued that the present system is created, is not self existent, does not depend on its own inherent energies. Hence, it must be limited. This is involved in the fact of creation. The thing created cannot share the fullness of the Creator. The finite must by the nature of the case be inferior to the Infinite on which it depends. Hence, it must be imperfect, and hence EVIL, natural and moral. It is inherent in the very idea of creation. Its absence would be an impossibility, would imply a contradiction; for if the created being were not liable to evil, it would be perfect; but perfection is an attribute of the Creator. The creature and the Creator, on this supposition, would be identical. Evil must therefore be inevitable in any system of creation.

The same thought may be presented in another light. All created being must begin somewhere. The fact of beginning implies infancy, or imperfection, or in other words evil. The first time a thing is done, the result must be inferior to the excellence which comes from long practice. This is another illustration of the inevitableness of evil in a created system.

Proceeding from these views, to the fact of the moral freedom of man, Dr. D. showed that evil was an essential contingent in the discipline by which he was trained to virtue and happiness. This point was elucidated by a variety of considerations, with which the lecture was finally brought to a close.
II. New York Daily Tribune, Friday, January 30, 1852; describes second lecture on “various adaptations of the material universe to the uses of man, as indicative of the power and benignity of the Creative Providence.” To demonstrate "influence of natural beauty on the soul," Dewey closed by quoting from the first book of
Wordsworth's The Excursion
          ----------Sound needed none,
Nor any voice of joy; his spirit drank      
The spectacle: sensation, soul, and form
All melted into him; they swallowed up
His animal being; in them did he live,
And by them did he live; they were his life.
In such access of mind, in such high hour
Of visitation from the living God,
Thought was not; in enjoyment it expired.
No thanks he breathed, he proffered no request;
Rapt into still communion that transcends
The imperfect offices of prayer and praise,
His mind was a thanksgiving to the power
That made him; it was blessedness and love!
III. New York Daily Tribune, Thursday, February 5, 1852; describes third lecture on “the subject of human organization, regarded in its connection with the formation of character and the development of mind.”
Now-a-days we have a philosophy of everything. The most superficial treatises of shallow sciolists are dignified with the title of philosophy. But the true aim of philosophy is elevated and rational, and intimately connected with the progress of humanity. Let us, then, examine the difference between the organization of man and that of the lower animals, in regard to its influence on the training and perfection of his spiritual nature....

A coarse skin is almost incompatible with a refined mind. If I knew a man who could let a fly creep over his face without feeling it, I should be apt to set him down as harsh and coarse-grained in his spiritual nature, and destitute of noble, expansive and sympathetic sensibilities. The skin in man, then, is an efficient means of his spiritual education....

Another important element in his training to higher ends is the faculty of laughter. The animals are not endowed with this power, unless the grinning of monkeys is an exception. This is not merely an expression of the sense of the ludicrous. Laughter is the symbol of a contented mind, of a genial fellowship, of a comfortable sense of satisfaction, and tends to unite the scattered elements of society in a common feeling of fraternity. Its influence on health is not to be overlooked. An explosion of laughter is an excellent aid to digestion. Superior to old wine, or old cheese, or other celebrated peptic persuaders.
IV. New York Daily Tribune, Saturday, February 7, 1852; describes fourth lecture “on the Human Soul, in reference to its capacities for spiritual culture.”
When I ponder over the lucid pages of Dugald Stewart, that most sublime modern philosopher, to whom such a just and eloquent tribute has been paid by Sir James Mackintosh, I feel as if I were a head taller and can only give vent to my ineffable feelings by striding across the room.
V. New York Daily Tribune Thursday, February 12, 1852; Dewey's fifth lecture “devoted to a consideration of the complex nature of man, consisting of soul and body, as adapted to his spiritual culture.”
The complex nature of man, moreover, places him in society, with all its comprehensive and powerful influences. This was the grand educator of the race. Some of its features have been considered unfavorable to human development, such as its selfishness, its inequalities, is competition, and its solidarity. But the ill-effects of these had been greatly exaggerated. Wealth and rank are the objects of strong aversion with many: they have been called in question by the moralist, ridiculed by the satirist, and abused by the cynic. But they form a part of the inevitable system of inequality which prevails in the world. I am opposed, indeed, said Dr. D. to the possession of hereditary wealth, founded on a system of entails. But where every man has a fair chance, no hurtful inequalities can exist. And you cannot do them away. Make all men equal to-morrow, they would at once change places, and the old distinctions would return. Nor was competition so rife as it was often stated. There was little of it in the country. It was almost exclusively confined to cities.
VI. New York Daily Tribune, Monday, February 16, 1852; reports sixth lecture on “the forms of human activity and the conditions to which they are subjected, considered in their relations to spiritual culture."
He was going to lead his audience, said Dr. D. into the midst of common every day themes. He did not pretend to be the teacher of a transcendental philosophy, but trusted that he was able to expound the principles of common sense…. It was a great error first put forth by feudalism, and strengthened by the institution of slavery, that labor was disgraceful, whereas it is one of the primeval ordinances of the Creator, and at the basis of human improvement and dignity....
... The conditions of human activity, noticed by Dr. D., were imperfection, illusion and fluctuation. In treating of illusion, he said that many persons had a great desire to obtain the absolute truth, but he doubted whether this was desirable. Remove the thin veil of mysticism which covers the universe, dispel all the bright illusions which now so strongly pique the imagination, let everything be presented in the pure and awful reality, he doubted whether the human eye could bear the spectacle. After giving an eloquent panegyric on sleep, under the head of fluctuation, with some remarks on the fancied superiority of angels to men, the Lecturer closed his original and instructive Discourse.
VII. New York Daily Tribune, Thursday, February 19, 1852; reports seventh lecture on the subjects of Pain, Hereditary Evil, and Death:  

... certain conditions of human life which were usually regarded as most perplexing and mysterious. They present themselves before us in grim array, challenging investigation, and demanding us to reconcile them with the order of Providence.  In every age they have caused many anxious doubts.  The sublime mind of Plato seems at times to have staggered beneath their weight, as when he describes them as the work of some inferior, malicious demon; although, on the whole, he appears to have inclined to the theory of necessity, as developed in the present course.  This is the only key to the mystery, as has been already stated….
... But pain is necessary as a lesson of prudence.
VIII. New York Daily Tribune, Friday, February 20, 1852; on “the grand movement of humanity, or the phases of progress in the history of man.”
The lecturer then gave a condensed and graphic sketch of the course of civilization from the earliest ages to the present time. Everything shows that progress has been made in government, arts, literature, religion and social happiness. But this is only a foretaste of what we may expect. The visions of Condorcet, who, in the midst of the ferocity and carnage of the French Revolution, wrote a treatise on the destiny of the race to freedom, virtue, and happiness, had a foundation in reality. The lecture was closed with a glowing description of the resources of the present and the hopes of the future, for the advancement of humanity.

Saturday, December 21, 2013

wild, wonderful, and tragical Pierre

Something rare, early positive spin on Pierre!

Quoted from the Philadelphia Evening Bulletin in advertisements in the New York Literary World (October 16, 1852) and Morning Courier (October 20, 1852):

Mr. Melville has cut the acquaintance of Polynesia, and has made a domestic story as wild, wonderful, and tragical as he ever conjured from the tropical wilds of the coral islands of the Pacific.  Pierre is a curious mixture of Dante’s Inferno and of Hamlet.  Pierre, Lucy Tartan, Mrs. Glendinning, and Isabel, are creations that could have come from no other source than Melville’s mind. * * * It is clothed with language singularly wild, beautiful, and wonderful. —Phila. Evening Bulletin
Maybe we can find the rest of it somewhere.

Monday, December 16, 2013

Unidentified Daguerreotypist

Unknown maker, American, daguerreotypist
Portrait of Unidentified Daguerreotypist, 1845, Daguerreotype, hand-colored
The J. Paul Getty Museum, Los Angeles

View of Peekskill 1851

View of Peekskill 1851. Digital ID: 54891. New York Public Library

Image Credit: NYPL Digital Gallery

Lithograph by Karl Gildemeister at the NYPL Digital Gallery, from a daguerreotype by S. L. Walker--possibly the first daguerreotypist of Herman Melville.

Daguerreotypist is a word.

Sunday, December 15, 2013

Daguerreotype of Herman Melville by S. L. Walker?

Melville truculently refused to be daguerreotyped in February 1851.  The following year his fictional hero Pierre showed the same defiance:  "To the devil with you and your Daguerreotype!"

Nonetheless, in August 1847 (the month and year of Melville's marriage to Elizabeth Shaw) we find Albany photographer S. L. Walker (formerly of Troy) in Kingston showing off a daguerreotype of Herman Melville. Was this taken from the life, or did Walker cleverly make his picture somehow from the Twitchell painting?

Well, that might explain why his pictures boasted "the transparency, and softness of the best painted portraits."  For his part, Twitchell in some works is said to have been
''inspired by the detail possible in daguerreotypes.'' 
(Mary-Kate O'Hare, quoted by William Zimmer in a 1997 New York Times article)
From the Rondout [New York] Freeman, Saturday, August 21, 1847:
DAGUERREOTYPES WORTH HAVING. Mr. Walker, whose card is in to-days paper is one of the few daguerreotypists who thoroughly understand his beautiful art. That the blessed sun himself can be a very bad painter when maltreated by bunglers is very apparent in the swarms of specters of dismal countenance clad in very blue linen, called by courtesy daguerrean likenesses. Mr. W’s productions are of a very different stamp; remarkable for distinctness, for the absence of the ghastly tints, startling lights and shades, and painful distortions so common; and possessing the transparency, and softness of the best painted portraits. His daguerreotypes of Martin Van Buren, Silas Wright, W. H. Seward, Gov. Bouck and other men of note, have commanded the admiration of the best critics in art. To give the people of Rondout an opportunity of judging of his quality, Mr. W has left some specimens at the Mansion House, embracing Herman Melville, author of “Omoo” &c, Dr. McNaughton of Albany, and other widely known personages.
The advertisement or "card" referred to, again from the Rondout Freeman:
PREMIUM DAGUERREOTYPES. S. L. WALKER, of ALBANY, will be found at his rooms in Kingston for a few weeks. He is prepared to furnish Daguerreotypes of surpassing excellence, in either fair or cloudy weather, warranted to give satisfaction. Mr. W. received the first premium medal at the State Agricultural Fair in 1843, and also the silver medal at the American Institute, New York. Citizens generally are invited to call and examine specimens of skill, at his rooms, in North Front street Kingston, formerly Culley’s Printing Office.
And what's up with the middle name?  Is it Samuel Lear or Samuel Leon Walker?  Are they one and the same, or different men? Walker relocated from Albany to Poughkeepsie, apparently in June 1847 though he may have returned to the Albany area for a few years, before settling down in Poughkeepsie for good.  According to Michael Pritchard, writing of Samuel Leon Walker, the
“only known collection of Walker’s work is held by George Eastman House,in Rochester, New York.”  (Encyclopedia of Nineteenth-Century Photography, 1465)
But you can still find stray images of daguerreotypes by S. L. Walker online at places like ebay and Google Images.  Hey how cool would it be, to spot young Herman Melville's mug in on some dusty unidentified daguerreotype by say "S L Walker, Albany" or "Walker & Gavit" or even "Walker, Troy."

Update: The "painter-like" quality of Walker's work was noted by the Albany Argus of September 9, 1845, specifically with reference to the daguerreotype portrait of Silas Wright by Walker & Gavit.
DAGUERREOTYPE PORTRAITS.—We were shown yesterday, a remarkably fine specimen of the perfection to which the art of Daguerreotyping has attained in the hands of Messrs. WALKER & GAVIT, of this city. It was a portrait of GOV. WRIGHT. The expression and features were of course to the life; but the exquisite gradations of light and shadow, and the painter-like effect, could scarce be surpassed.

Monday, November 11, 2013

Wednesday, July 31, 2013

the appeal of Porter and Emory to romancers like Melville

William Henry Babcock on the kind of books to be found in a private Maryland library:
There are also Porter's very frank narrative of experiences in the South Seas, which must have prompted Herman Melville's "Omoo" and "Typee," and Emory's business-like chronicle of Kearney's old New Mexican campaigns, in which I think I can discover the germs of Mayne Reid's southwestern tales.  --Lippincott's Monthly Magazine 42 -1888
Babcock of course refers to David Porter's Journal of a Cruise, indeed one of Melville's early source-books, and William H. Emory's Notes of a Military Reconnaissance.

Monday, July 29, 2013

Tom Melville yarn, retold for the Boston Journal by "The Kennebecker" (John H. Drew)

Harper's New Monthly Magazine
January 1873
Herman Melville's youngest brother as a rebellious "Yankee beggar"?  Aboard a British man-of-war?  Reminds me of Israel Potter....

Writing as "The Kennebecker" for the Boston Journal, John H. Drew recalls meeting his old shipmate, now Governor of Sailors' Snug Harbor on Staten Island, and retells one of Tom Melville's youthful tales of adventure in the China Seas.  Excerpt below is from number 31 of "From the Pine to the Palm, or, The Cruise of the Reward" in the Boston Journal, Saturday, May 27, 1882.

The chief of the establishment, called by courtesy, I presume, the Governor, I made myself known to, and he met us at the office. We had been mates together, on the coast of China, years ago (he was a first-class one, too,) and was one of those mentioned in my “Libraries at Sea.” He had an excellent taste for literature and influenced me largely in my reading. As he received and dismissed his “habitats” here, I looked at him long and intently to see if there was anything of the crack mate about him.. There was not much. He bore his honors well, although I had wished to find more of my old officer. He handed me the entry book, in which was stated the particulars of each application. It was rather interesting. I noticed the remark often, “So-and-so has permission to attend the Catholic church.” And I wondered, if it were a Catholic institution, whether members would have permission to attend the Protestant church. I doubt it.


It is well known that “the Governor” is the brother of the author “Herman Melville,” and the reader of the latter’s book “Redburn” will notice that he dedicates it to his young brother, then on his first voyage to China. It was on a voyage to and from China that the young brother stowed away many good stories to be related to his friends afterwards, and one he told me when he was “Chief” of a crack Boston clipper ship. (He sailed out of Boston ‘till the last.) I meant to have asked his permission to give this, but I forgot it, there was so much to say. And, begging his pardon (I really do not think he will care), I will give it here. He was adrift in China and looking for a ship. Now, it happened that an English ship, on board of which something had occurred—I do not recollect what just now—depriving her of her officers and crew, from captain down (perhaps it was mutiny), was recruiting a new ship’s company. An officer from a British man-‘o-war was detailed to navigate the ship to England, and the rest were, from the mates down, of the roughest sort. Our young sailor and his chum, another American, determined to try their fortunes under the British flag. There was no end of trouble and deviltry, want of discipline and everything that was good as a lark to these harum-scarum sailor boys, and the passage wore tediously on. One night in the dog watch, while the old tub of a teak-built Royal Briton was rolling along, my young friend was perched upon the poop, steering his trick at the wheel. He told me the light was a miserable slush lamp, with a wick of oakum. He could hardly see the compass, and much less the points. The noble commander was pacing the deck, and, with the aid of his eye-glass and a flicker of the rude light discovered that the ship was a point off her course. “This never’ll do, ye know,” said he; “can’t you steer the ship, you American beggar?” This stung our young sailor to the quick, and he adopted the British fashion of “cheeking” the master at once. “I can steer a ship, sir,” said he, “but not a box like this.” This caused the lord of creation to explode in fierce invectives upon all “blasted Yankees.” The consequence was, that at eight o’clock the greasy mate came aft, touched the knuckle of this forefinger to a lock of hair sticking out from under his cap, in token of respect, to await the master’s orders, who told him to turn the American for’rd and never allow him under any pretence to be seen abaft the booby hatch. The mate received his orders, and asked if he should “make it eight bells, as it was eight o’clock.” “Very well, sir, make it.” This, I believe, on board of an English ship is the rule. Eight bells in the evening is never struck, until the captain gives the order, as he may wish some other order executed first. Perhaps to tell the steward to give the men a glass of grog, and himself a “pint of half-and-half,” or a glass of wine.


This was a wretched ship, and there was very little to eat on board. But the steward pacified the grumbling crew with the fact that “Christmas was coming,” and the master had promised a plum duff for the hands. This kept the discontented, growling men quiet for the time. I will digress here a little to say, that I, once upon a time, spent a few months in England. I noticed that among the lower classes the last half of a week seemed to be spent in looking forward to the Sabbath, when they were to have the only real meal of the week, their “roast biff” and plum pudding, or “bit of pork and cabbidge,” and they dwelt on that for the first half of the week that followed, when they turned their longing appetites to the following Sunday. It seemed so to me. The captain of this ship probably was acquainted with this habit, and thought he could use Christmas the same as his countrymen did the Sabbath, i.e., life on it for a long passage. The duff was brought in to the forecastle (by the boys of course), and the eager crew gathered around it. It was a miserable batch of wormy, dirty flour, boiled in greasy water, and very few plums. One old Jack began by saying “it was like a piece of bloody putty, the bloody stuff.” The there was no end to the indignation. Was this what they had waited and wished for so long—borne with so much of want and hunger for? “I’ll tell you what it is,” said my young friend’s chum, the American, “if that was brought into an American ship’s forecastle we would not stand it a moment.” “No more will we” snorted an old barnacle back. “What say ye, mates, shall we carry it aft?” “Aye! aye! aft with it!” joined the savage chorus.
This carrying a complaint aft to the British lion’s den is a delicate business, and has to be arranged with a great deal of ceremony and etiquette. So it was performed in this case as follows. Two of the oldest hands headed the crew each with his tin pan and piece of duff. Another old “heart of oak” that looked in his whiskers like a rat peeping out of a bunch of oakum, carried the kid (a small wooden tub), with a half of the duff cut in the centre. The rest of the crew followed in order according to their age and rank. The steward, dodging about the cabin, saw the approaching “circus,” and went up the cabin steps in time to receive the request of the foremost delegation for an interview with the captain. That awful functionary leisurely and gravely made his appearance (I have read some English author who says if you wish to impress others with your greatness, make them wait for you), and haughtily demanded “the meaning of all this blasted row?”

The old men stated their case with their hats in their hands, each one with a lock of hair over his left eye, and wished to know if the master called that stuff (in their pans) fit for the people to eat. “I don’t see anything the matter with it.” “But taste it—taste it,” was the demand. “Steward, steward, fetch me a fork,” he pompously ordered. The steward brought the fork, whereupon he deliberately detached a morsel with a plum in it, put it in his mouth, and pronounced it excellent, most excellent duff, they had ought to be ashamed to complain of such fare, and grandly ordered the crew forward. This was too much. “You like it, do you, sir?” exclaimed one of the men. “Well, you can have mine, sir,” and he hove it at the captain as he would a snow ball. “Yes, yes,” said another, “take mine,” and he let fly. Then they all roared in chorus, “You like it? Eat mine and mine!” and they began to pelt him, ‘till the old man with the kid yelled, “Yes, sir! take it all, you are welcome to it,” and hove kid and all down the stairs. Then they let their pans go at him. And the “dirty mate,” as they called him, and our “Yankee beggar,” who was forbidden to come aft the booby-hatch, stood upon this coigne du vantage, took good aim over the heads of the rest and knocked the master’s gold braided hat off.

The discomfited commander beat a retreat, the sailors had their revenge and felt better, the result was that the “official log” was produced, I suppose the British horneur [?] noted the proceedings down “by act of Parliament,” etc., etc. It was read over to the ringleaders that they had insulted an officer in the Queen’s navee by pelting him with duff, etc., for all of which they would be fined a day’s pay or something like that sort, and they witnessed and signed it, exclaiming it was worth a day’s pay and they did not care a pinch of snuff for it.

I have added the last sentence, as I do not recollect the result; but this would be the lawful and usual one. I have seen such things more than once, being in contact so much with English ships, in their own ships at home and abroad. …

But to return. No one would think the “Yankee boy” that hove the last piece of duff at the English captain was now the reserved, dignified Governor before us. To appreciate the story one ought to have heard him, the dashing mate, afterward captain of the clipper ship Meteor, of Boston, relate it. Scenes like these have eminently fitted him to enter into all the troubles of a sailor’s life and to be their Governor. Long may he wave.
online at