Two Glasses, Two Broadsides and a Hole in Hudson's Bay: Schooner Days CCXX (221)

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IT WAS no surprise for the compiler of these Schooner Days to get many ship pictures among his Christmas and New Year's cards and calendars. But it is a continuous surprise to note how good artists' depictions of vessels can be; and how bad.

One's non-nautical friends cannot be blamed for the monstrosities of ships which career under full sails, with everything set from star-ticklers downward, straight against a gale which, to judge by the slope of the masts and the curl of the seas depicted, must have attained hurricane force; nor can they be blamed for such anachronisms as doubletopsails and chequerboard sides in eighteenth century vessels, or such impossibilities as sailors racing aloft up the lee rigging, as we saw in the Mutiny on the Bounty.

But artists should know better. Before they get their artistic licenses to depict ships they should serve a year in sail and take a course in ship history.

Having greeted all friends and artists with this cheerful growl for 1936 let me have just one more at the Bank of Commerce calendar on the wall opposite. I can't take my eyes off it. A thrilling, fascinating seapiece, showing D'Iberville sinking another unfortunate Hampshire.

You remember poor Kitchener went to his death in the Hampshire in 1917. This Hampshire which was a victim of D'Iberville's superior force went down in Hudson's Bay in 1697 as mysteriously as Kitchener's cruiser.

The calendar description of the episode, in which D'Iberville is called "the first great Canadian," should make a great hit with the French. The English side of it makes more of a hit with me.

Read "the humble petition of Mary Fletcher, widow of John Fletcher, late commander of your majesty's ship ye Hampshire," in 1698, praying for a pension "forasmuch as your petitioner's said husband during the late war with France suffered great losses, he having been twice taken by ye enemy . . . and in that action in ye said Hudson's Bay your petitioner's husband lost his life ... your petitioner now reduced to great necessity."

According to the widow's prayer, backed up by a tarry-thumbed double deposition from two master's mates who saw the fight, the Hampshire was not the flagship of any armed fleet, but a single man-of-war on convoy duty, protecting two merchant traders to Hudson's Bay; and the way she went down with all on board, performing that duty, reflected as much credit upon poor Capt. Fletcher as it did up on the Sieur D'Iberville, of Montreal.

Here is the deposition, in all its awkwardness of seventeenth century spelling helped out a little by modern punctuation:

"Thomas Morris, late master's mate of His Ma'ties late ship Hampshire, and from thence put on board the Dearing, merch'tman, and Samuel Clarke, late master's mate of the Hudson's Bay . . .

"Do very well to remember that on the 26th of August, 1697, about 6 a clock in the morning, they saw a ship to the windward, which proved to be a ffrench man of Warr called the Pellican, Monsr. D'Breville commander, and sometimes bearing down toward them and sometimes keeping her wind.

"The said ship Hampshire, with the merchantmen, turned to the windward to get up with her, and between 8 and 9 a clock there were some Gunns ffired on both sides, as they continued at a distance till about eleven;

"And then the Hampshire tackt, and got to windward of him, bore down upon him, and gave him two broadsides, yardarm to yardarm, as near as these deponents could discern

"And after the Hampshire had given the second broadside, filling her headsails to wear, she Sunck; at which time there happened a fflaw of Wind (squall), but whether that, or the damage she might have received from the enemy was the occasion of her Sincking these deponents cannot say.

"And further the said Samuel Clarke saith that he being taken by the ffrench, during the time he continued on board the ffrench Man of War . . . having some discourse with the said ffrench Captaine's brother, who spoke English, he told the said depon't that Capt, ffletcher who commanded the Hampshire was a brave man, and just before he gave his last broadside called to the said Monsr. D'Breville, bidding him strike (his flag) which he refusing to do, Capt. ffletcher took a Glass, and drank to him, telling him he should dine with him immediately; upon which the said ffrench captain pledged him in another Glass; and thereupon his men fired a volley of small shot upon the Hampshire, which was returned with a like volley to the ffrenchman.

"And after that the said Capt. ffletcher was not seen; so that it was supposed the said Capt. ffletcher was then killed, as the said ffrench captain's brother informed the said depon't. Samuel Clarke; and further these deponents say not."

Montague Dawson, ship-picture-painter just now at the height of his vogue, has done one of his best in depicting the fight. The coloring is superb, the modeling of the high-sterned hulls excellent. The blend of brown sides, whitened bottoms, blue upper works, red port-lids and red back-cloths in the fighting, tops, is charming and historically correct, and harmonizes with the heaving blue sea, both in line and color. It is hard to believe the two men-of-war were as squatty in their rig, or had masts as thick as Montague Dawson depicts; or that the Pelican could have kept afloat with such injuries between wind and water as shown. Still, it's a grand sea picture.

Another small calendar came from an old shipmate. It shows a fine square-rigger of a hundred years ago smoking along under royals and studdingsails. Like many ship-pictures it bears the inscription "Homeward Bound." But note the point in this one: the ship is really homeward bound, and the picture shows it clearly. Both anchors are over the rail, and the port one is ready for letting go. The crew are on the forecastle head, after swinging them out. Another little detail which shows that the artist knew what he was intending to depict is that, although there is a fresh breeze, the jibs hang almost becalmed, because they are in the lee of the swelling square sails on the foremast. An inferior artist would have attempted "action," by showing them, falsely, straining out like gulls' wings.

Such accuracies cannot be expected in the more conventionalized pictures, such as a merry ship in a sweet circle of silver stars, or a gay old whaler all gilded by the high moon. (Capt. John Williams, late master of the P. E. Young, Greenwood, Speedwell, Straubenzie, Mathews, Algonquin, Iroquois, Osler, Hagarty, Canadian Engineer, Canadian Trader, Canadian Adventurer, Largs, and J. B. Foote, sent me that one). His season's wish was:

"May there be comforts in your cabin

And banknotes in the hold

And all the sails of shining silk

And all the masts of gold."

The same to him and many of them all.

If any card gave particular satisfaction to the sender as well as to the receiver it must be the one Vice-Commodore T. K. Wade favored me with. Perfect in all the circumstances, the ones to remember being these: Mr. Wade has sailed the P-class sloop Patricia to countless victories and ten or more seasons' championships—and the recipient is also a yachtsman. The card, printed in green, blue, grey, brown, black and white, shows a glimpse of the snow-bound R.C.Y.C. yard, with the willow trees all gaunt, and nine of the fleet snuggling under their canvas overcoats. Patricia does not hog the limelight, but there she is, the only complete figure, slim and graceful as a thoroughbred wrapped up before the race; an aristocrat in every line. Only an artist who loved and understood yachts could draw and color this scene: it has all the accuracy of a close-up photograph, even to the apparently topsy-turvy perspective; and all the grace of a cameo. Rowley W. Murphy was the man who did it.

For yacht portraiture the camera is very hard to beat, and it is upon the camera of Maj. Jas. E. Hahn, our Rear-Commodore, has relied in his Christmas card of his good ship Nonchalant. Straight photography, a lee-quarter view in a good breeze, sky bleached out and every shroud and halliard stand out as though etched, and yet without false prominence -- that is the triumph Major Hahn has achieved. It is hard to believe he was not on board when the picture was taken, when one studies the group around the wheel; and also hard to believe he was not in the launch from which the picture was snapped, for the work looks like his own.

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Toronto, Dec. 31st, 1935

Sir,—I may say I have been reading and enjoying the articles in the Saturday Evening Telegram, entitled "Schooner Days," since they first began to appear several years ago. Unfortunately, through absence and other causes, I have missed a few.

While I myself am an ex-South Bay sailor, I note that many of my friends who have never steered a trick or trimmed a sheet are just as interested in them as we old sailors are.

However, my object in writing this letter was to ask a question or rather two questions. First, have you ever written an article on or have you any data on the loss of the schooner Mary? The Mary is supposed to have foundered somewhere off Oswego, N.Y., in the year, I think, of 1903, the same year the Emerald was lost with all hands, the account of which you have already written. The Mary of which I speak was a trim little fore-an'-after with a carrying capacity of about two hundred tons. Her home port at the time of her loss was, I believe, Napanee. One day late in the fall the Mary, heavily laden with coal, left one of the following ports, Charlotte, Big Sodus or Fair Haven, bound for Napanee. I have been told she was last seen scudding before a westerly gale under the bare poles, a few miles off Oswego harbor. I understand that was the last ever seen of her or her crew, consisting of captain, mate, two men before the mast and cook.

My second question is: Have you ever written an article on, or have you any data on any of the following vessels: The Gold Hunter, The Hibernia or The Silver Spray, all built, I believe, on Black Creek in Prince Edward County.

And whatever you do, Mr. Snider, don't stop writing about Schooner Days.

Yours sincerely,

S. A. CLARK,

47 Woodlawn ave., Toronto.

Thanks, Capt. Clark, and a Happy New Year to you and all good sailormen from South Bay and the five Great Lakes. Answering your second question first, I've very little information about the Gold Hunter, Hibernia and Silver Spray, out of Black Creek, and would like to have more. As to the Mary, I knew her and young Andy Baird who sailed her, very well, and the story of her loss has already been told, but it may stand repeating. It was much as you say, except that the year was 1905. The Emerald was lost in 1903. The Mary had loaded at Fairhaven.