"...To return to the Year 1833:

Aaron Burr's Manhattan Company led all banks; and The Bank of New York, founded by Alexander Hamilton, was growing in prestige. The Bank of America had three times the capital of The City Bank, which later was to absorb it. That year, too, young Peter Stuyvesant and Clinton Gilbert's Greenwich Bank and John Jacob Astor's Gallatin Bank were making themselves known, interesting tidbits for The Central Hanover Bank and Trust Company to swallow. And that's where I come in!

Albert Gallatin had completed the Louisiana Purchase, as United States Secretary of the Treasury. We are told: 'He would walk from the Bank at 13 Wall Street, around to the small shop in William Street where his young friend Delmonico, the confectioner, was trying to interest the gourmets of the day in French cooking.'

Finally, 1833 was the year when 'Preserved Fish' was left out of the old shipping firm: Fish, Grinnell & Company. His place was taken by Robert Minturn, future first President of The Union League Club of New York where our Newcomen Society long met so happily. 'The Sun' missed that change in the partnership, and so announced:

'FOR LIVERPOOL. -September 8th.
The packet ship 'Roscoe', J. C. Delano, Master.

FISH, GRINNELL & Co., 134 Front St.'

The Packet Ship Roscoe built in 1832, only the year before, made her first New York-Liverpool trip that year. Six hundred and twenty- two tons; 134 feet 8 inches long; a beam of 32 ft. and a depth of hold 16 feet. She was built by Smith & Dimon of New York, who later were to build the first true dippers, 'Rainbow' and 'Sea Witch.'

The Captain, Joseph C. Delano, was a strict master but a genial dinner host. He came of old Dutch Huguenot stock, of which Philip Delano was the first to settle in this country (1621). Genealogy says Philip Delano was a descendant of Richard the Good- Robert the Devil- Alfred the Great- William the Conqueror- and Charlemagne!

Of the fifth generation was this Captain Joseph C. Delano. Born in New Bedford on Buzzard's Bay, in 1796, he, at age of 30, captained the 'Columbia,' of the Red Swallowtail Line, New York to London. On his first return to New York he married Alice Russell Howland of New Bedford.

Four years later, in 1830, he established the aforementioned Westbound Speed Record: 15 days, 18 hours, from Portsmouth, England, to Sandy Hook. Due to his fast sailing and firm management, he became master of the 'Roscoe,' of this Liverpool Swallowtail Line.

A fine sight it was to see such a ship come up the East River with all sails set, and then anchor off Maiden Lane. Arrival was flashed from Sandy Hook to Staten Island. From Staten Island, the city and its editors would be advised. Because the last twenty miles often took two days to sail, the news was well around by the time the ship hove in sight.

Perhaps the Captain bearing prices of Liverpool cotton and European news would send a boat off Sandy Hook or Long Island and by horseback relay these dispatches to the owners. How well it paid the newspapers to curry favor with the owners. To the favored went the first news. One sugared attempt to get a scoop was made by an editor who wrote, 'The Ship 'Queen of the West' is the noblest work and her Commander the noblest work of God!'

Traveling on packets was a great adventure. First, choose a ship with genial captain and congenial shipmates. William Corbett, the agitator, was refused passage on the 'Amity' at the insistence of his fellow passengers. What a time those passengers had for themselves on arriving in London, for the ousted Corbett wrote the London papers that he would not travel on the 'Amity' because he had heard a rumor that she was loading in the heart of the yellow fever contagion.

But let us suppose you are a satisfactory character and have paid your Thirty Guineas, or one hundred and forty dollars, for one-way passage, wines included.

The eventful day arrives. A steamboat, with much puffing and whistling, carries you from The Battery to anchorage off Sandy Hook. Your friends, at a dollar a head, come along to give you a proper 'send-off.' At Sandy Hook, the ship, neat and trim, decks glistening white, is ready to catch the breeze and be on her way.

Charles Dickens describes his first sight of an American packet:

'The pilot had not been slow to take advantage of this favorable weather and the ship which yesterday had been in such a crowded dock that she might have retired from trade for good and all, for any chance she seemed to have to going to sea, was now full sixteen miles away. A gallant sight she was, when we, fast gaining on her in a steamboat, saw her in the distance riding at anchor: her tall masts pointing up in graceful lines against the sky, and every rope and spar expressed in delicate threadlike outline: gallant too when we being all aboard, the anchor came up to the sturdy chorus 'Cheerily men, oh cheerily!' and she followed proudly in the towing steamboats wake: but bravest and most gallant of all, when the tow rope being cast adrift the canvas fluttered from her masts, and spreading her white wings she soared away upon her free and solitary course.'

Early Victorian packets were three master, fully square rigged ships. Bows were more rounded than the clipper ships because precious cargo space was more important than speed.

But let us leave our steamboat and clamber up to the 'topsides' of our packet ship. Protected by waist high bulkheads painted green on the inside, the deck is clear except for the stern where, wheel in hand and binnacle containing the compass before him, stands the helmsman. Forward are two hatches for cargo with the ship's boat on top. Around the boat stand our future meals-- a milk cow, pigs, ducks, hens and sheep!

We know that 'Tween decks,' at the bow, is the forecastle. In the center section, if there is no fine freight, huddle steerage passengers. It is not a happy sight to look down on them because there, crowded in a common dormitory for 38 days, each cooks his fast dwindling supply of food. If our ship has one bath, it is in the cabin section. The steerage passengers' bath at best may be a bucket of icy seawater, dashed over them on deck. Perhaps the plague breaks out and no Doctor is on board. The ship's Captain does what he can but that is little. Below is the usual hold for bulkier freight.

Toward the ship's stern is a stairway leading down to the 'Tween Decks.' A great halt forty feet long spreads out before us. Here are handsome mahogany tables with sofas on each side, carved pillars, sometimes mahogany, sometimes cream colored ornamented with gold. Rich crimson or gold and white draperies catch the eye. On either side are staterooms, each about eight feet square, with latticed window and door, the upper half of which also is latticed to admit air. Bird's- eye maple woodwork inlaid with curiously grained woods is polished to satiny finish.

Tyrone Power, the actor, describes the scene:

'Each of these staterooms is furnished with a wash hand stand, containing a double service, a chest of drawers with handles of cut glass, a shelf or two for books and a brace of berths of ample dimensions well appointed with mattress and linen.'

Cabins usually are lighted from above. The men's berths are hung with olive-colored damask curtains, while fine blue silks drape those of the ladies.

Floating palaces are these passenger vessels of The Age of Sail.

Days pass pleasantly enough for cabin passengers. Aroma of broiled ham, eggs, frizzled bacon, spitchcock, salted shad fish, and mutton cutlets, through latticed door, calls us to breakfast at eight. Then a little cognac with Scheidam as a chaser. For amusement: reading, shuffleboard, or shooting at a bottle hanging from a spar.

At twelve: luncheon with pilot biscuit, corned round, and Guinness' Porter: then chess, checkers, backgammon, or a walk on deck to watch an occasional passing ship, betting on the landfall, or other divertissement.

Dinner at four: with three courses, tapering off with pastries and dried fruits. Very occasionally a small salad is served, but it looks a bit tired. All these delicacies, plus sherry, Madeira, hock, claret, port, and iced champagne, keep one at table two and a half hours! One may have as tablemate: Ambassador Rufus King, Joseph Bonaparte, Samuel F. B. Morse, or Washington Irving. A game of whist, or a mock trial, interests the older ones; while the young people go forward to an alcove off the great room. 'Here the sofas, mirrors, long tables which so delight the feminine eye' furnish background for ocean flirtations.

The day is complete: with a final stroll on deck, with light coming up through every crack or seam, as though great fires raged within the ship. The sighing wind through rope and cable, the myriad stars and black expanse of sea, the helmsman with a speck of light on his charts, and the ghostly billowing sails overhead are left at last for the cozy cabin beneath.

In the stateroom, the tramp of feet overhead, the creaking masts, and the roll of the ship-all these lull one to sleep.

Such was the transatlantic vessel the genial J. C. Delano captained. Sometimes he took with him his wife. -At least one of his children was born in the Isle of Wight. It is said many a New Bedford captain had his bed built with a low center of gravity, on rockers, for his wife's greater comfort in rough weather.

Joseph Delano's first wife Alice died in childbirth on June 7, 1834, in New Bedford. After three years, in his 41st year, he married the thirty-year-old Sylvia Hathaway Swift. The next year he captained the new, bigger, and better Packet Ship 'Patrick Henry,' 880 tons and 159 feet length, built by Brown and Bell. He saw his old 'Roscoe' sold to the Baltimore-Liverpool service, in 1843. As to its ultimate fate, we have no word. I have searched diligently. There was a whaling ship known as 'The Roscoe' but it was built at another day. Perhaps Captain Delano's 'Roscoe' was one of those ships pressed into service for the trip around The Horn in the Gold Rush of '49, or maybe it blocked the Charleston Harbor in the Civil War. Who knows!

The 'Patrick Henry' turned out to be one of the most profitable ships for the firm; and Captain Delano was 1/8th owner. In 1845, he bought the big stone home whose grounds covered a full block in New Bedford.

Captain Delano was one who always could see around the corner. He sensed the coming importance of manufacturing, and that sailing ships were about to have their final fling. In 1846, between passages, he joined The Honorable Joseph Grinnell, one of the founders of Fish, Grinnell & Company, in starting a new cotton mill. So were the eminently successful Wamsutta Mills founded at New Bedford.

Delano's interest in trade, transportation, and manufacturing further were whetted by his directorship in this cotton mill; and he withdrew as Captain of the 'Patrick Henry' in 1848. Ten years later, he brought over bog head coal from Scotland, and at the foot of South Street, he distilled from retorts the first kerosene made in New Bedford.

Meanwhile his friend, Governor Henry H. Crapo of Michigan, had been making a success of lumbering near Flint. He needed a railroad to get the lumber out efficiently. Crapo had the naive idea that cash for the entire development should be on hand before the first rail was laid. He called his friend, Captain Delano, and enthusiasm flowed like whale oil from blubber. Captain Delano became so excited that on returning to Boston he bought rails and plates without consulting the Governor. What a dash of wills ensued. However, Captain Delano had made a good trade and the Governor, though browbeaten, had to be satisfied.

On November 4, 1864, Governor Crapo wrote in his diary: 'Go to Detroit by The Flint and Holly Railroad, which is opened this day.' The track was only partially completed. Passenger and freight trains were run with unusual care and with no accident except that a portion of the rolling stock ran off the track. From the start, this road from Flint to Holly was profitable and soon became so important that The Pere Marquette Railroad absorbed it.

While visiting The Old Dartmouth Historical Museum and Whaling Institution on Johnny Cake Hill in New Bedford, the Curator graciously introduced me to Captain Pemberson Nye, who as a youth worked across the street from the Town Tavern. He remembers Captain Joseph C. Delano. Such personal memory is better than a portrait, because itinerant painters usually arrived at the sitter's home with background and body painted in; hence a portrait would depict the Captain only from the chin up.

'A fine figure he was,' remembers Captain Nye, 'mutton chop whiskers, a closely cropped beard and mustache, a white stock at his throat, and often a Panama type hat. His suit, in summer, was of Shantung silk from China. He sat on his sorrel horse straight as a ramrod, holding in one hand a Shantung silk umbrella lined with green. Rain or shine, the umbrella was up to protect him from the weather. Everyday, barring blizzards, Captain Delano would trot down to the little tavern; remain outside on his horse until the tavern keeper brought him his customary rum. Delano would hold the drink in one hand and the umbrella in the other, and after finishing his liquor, would pay for it and trot off on his sorrel, still clutching the open green-lined umbrella.'

In conclusion, I will quote lines, which Sir Francis Drake wrote, just before his bold and infinitely courageous dash into the Harbor of Cadiz where he was to pave a way for defeat of the great Spanish Armada. Sir Francis, in these lines, was uttering a prayer- one that applied to Benjamin Day and to our Captain Delano.

And may it apply to each one of us!

Here, preserved through the centuries, is his prayer:

'OH LORD GOD, when Thou givest to Thy servants to endeavor any great matter, grant us also to know it is not the beginning, but the continuing of the same until it be thoroughly finished, which yieldeth the true glory.'

The End"