Adelaide’s suggestion that Barzillai permit her to accompany him on his voyage was certainly not an unheard of one. By the mid 19th century captains’ wives joining their husbands became a more and more common phenomenon as the voyages grew longer.
There’s a stereotype of sailors considering women bad luck aboard a ship (with the reality being that a woman present could become a distraction or destabilizing to the fraternity of the space). Whatever superstition may have existed, it didn’t hold in reality on whaleships. It was unremarkable enough that there are a number of logbooks and journals where the captain’s wife was present throughout the voyage and no one ever bothered to mention it in their own accounts.
How these women perceived their place on a whaler, as well as how others perceived them, were multitudinous.
Whaling wives from New Bedford, mid 19th c. Some stayed ashore, some accompanied their husbands on the ships.
The wonderful scholar Joan Druett compiled a preliminary list (in the 1990s) of all known women aboard whaling vessels. She found 443 women for a total of 664 voyages. 4 of those women were those who disguised themselves as whalemen and signed on as such (and are only known because their identities were eventually discovered, so there may have been more than record shows), some other women of that 443 figure were the daughters of captains or the wives of mates, but the majority were the wives of captains.
Most only joined their husbands for one trip. But if I’ve got my math right, roughly 35% of those women went out on more than one voyage. Among them is Maria Hamblin, who joined her husband on 4 voyages spanning from 1857-1873 (and at one point brought their 5 and 2 year old aboard too). Another is Nancy Grant, who was on 6 voyages from 1849-1881. Viola Cook was on 7, 1892-1912.
For some, like Nancy, they wanted to be with their husbands and took very well to the seafaring life. An oral history with Nancy’s great grandson shared family lore that she missed her husband, knew his shipping route, and jumped a merchant ship to meet him in New Zealand. Other tellings say that after her husband returned from his second voyage she told him that if the agents were coming to look for him to go whaling again they might as well just sign her up too. However it happened, she was at sea with him for 32 years. All three of her children were born while on whaling voyages. She raised whales (and won a gold dollar bounty for doing so that she afterwards wore around her neck). She was known to have incorporated a lot of sailor slang in her lexicon. An 1892 newspaper described her as ‘quite a sailor’, and one whaler who sailed with her in a later oral history said:
“Mrs. Grant used to keep ship when we went for whales. When all the boats was down she was captain. Mrs. Grant and the ship’s crew, cooper and carpenter kept ship. She was in command. She’d take ship and follow us down.”
Others, like Viola didn’t have much of a choice in the matter; her husband expected it of her and she hated the life. She was also deeply disturbed by her husband’s brutality towards his crew, at one point shutting herself up in the cabin for 9 months and refusing to speak to him after he flogged men aboard.
As such, it’s variable as far as how women viewed their time on the ship, and how much agency they had over the decision. However, many women whose words have survived made the choice to go, finding the hardships of four years at sea preferable to 4 long years away from one’s partner who might never come home.
While this choice became more accepted in the industry, it wasn’t necessarily accepted by others ashore. The ‘consequences’ of a woman joining as a whaling wife sometimes came as social death on land. This is evidenced in the first entry of Mary Brewster’s 1840s diary. In it she describes being disowned by her adoptive family for joining her husband on his ship Tiger:
“With much opposition I left my native land few had to say one encouraging word—She who has extended a mother’s love and watchfulness over me said her consent would never be given in no way would she assist me and if I left her she thought me very ungrateful and lastly though not least Her house would never be a home for me again if I persisted in coming—Well thank Heaven it is all past and I am on board of the good ship Tiger and with my dear husband.”
Mary Brewster, 1854
While many whaling wives saw their going to sea as an extension of their role as a partner, it was considered by many ashore inappropriate and unladylike, or at the very least, eccentric.
How they tended to be received by the crew wasn’t as harbingers of bad luck so much as an idle hand who was also taking up resources and eating better food than them while doing less work. So there was not uncommonly some resentment or coldness, as well as discomfort at having a woman on board invading the privacy of a male space (not that any real privacy actually existed on a whaleship).
Third mate Abram Briggs of the Eliza Adams, 1872, held a great deal of distaste for the captain’s wife Emily Hamblin, as well as their children. When the carpenter was enlarging a deck house for Mrs. Hamblin to have her own space, Briggs remarked on its existence encroaching on the privacy of the other men:
‘the carpenter has put a long window in the forward part of the house, so Mrs. Hamblin can set down & look at whats going on on deck, who goes over the bows [i.e. relieves themselves], or to the Urine barrell’
He found her three little boys disruptive to the ship as well. They had the run of the place, getting into things and galloping over the forecastle deck when men were trying to sleep. While on a shore leave, Briggs said of them:
“Their children are spoke of on shore as the worst behaved children they ever saw, setting the dogs on to people’s geese, trying to break other children’s fingers, and calling each other names which I debar from writing.” He then added, “Oh what a loud breath of satisfaction we could have drawn to see them all go, everything would then go on with peace & quietness”
He came to resent the wife and children so much that he took to calling them the ‘cow’ and ‘calves’ in his journal entries. In addition to being seen as an idle interloper, a captain’s wife was also a reminder of domesticity or companionship that in most cases the rest of the crew did not have access to throughout the voyage. But on the other side of things, they could also be a comfort in that reminder; not every whaler looked upon the presence of someone’s wife or family with the same growling as Mr. Briggs.
Mary Lawrence and her daughter Minnie, for instance, seemed to be quite beloved aboard the ship Addison. On July 18th, 1859, it was Minnie’s birthday aboard, and Mary described the celebration:
‘This is Minnie’s birthday—eight years old. I told her a month ago that when it was her birthday, I would make a treat for her in the evening and she might invite all the officers to partake with her. So she has ever since been looking forward to it as a great event. Saturday I made preparation, and I was fortunate in doing so, for I suffered exceedingly Sunday night and for the greater part of this day with a gathering at the roots of my tooth. I was able to get up, however, and prepare the treat for her. We set the table and called the officers down about half-past 7 P.M. Minnie was so happy she hardly knew what to do with herself, and I think we all enjoyed it pretty well. The officers all united in saying that they had not sat down to such a table since they left home. The treat consisted of a plate of sister Celia’s fruitcake, two loaves of cupcake frosted, two plates of currant jelly tarts, and a dish of preserved pineapple, also hot coffee, good and strong, with plenty of milk and white sugar. After we had finished there was ample supply left, which was sent into the steerage for boatsteerers, etc.’
Mary Lawrence with an infant Minnie in 1851, years before they go whaling, and an older Minnie taken during the voyage.
In numerous journals penned by whaling wives, there are also instances of the crew bringing them bouquets of flowers they picked while on shore leave to brighten their cabin. Mrs. Lawrence was the recipient of many-a-flower, writing:
“The men that were ashore brought me three boquets [bouquets] which are very pretty indeed. Since we have been around the land I have had over thirty different varieties brought me. it looks strangely to see them growing by the side of a [snowbank]”
Many wives were somewhat distant from the crew, and many whalers viewed them with a mostly neutral air. “The Captains lady sits on deck sewing every pleasant day,” said greenhand John Perkins about Mrs. Brewster. “There is nothing remarkable in her appearance, She never speaks to any of the other officers when on deck but her husband.“ But there were other women who took great interest in the work and the men aboard,. They’d take care of those who were sick, make and mend clothes for crew members, or make celebratory dishes and treats on special occasion. One wife who did all of these things was Mrs. Ann Wilson, aboard the ship Atkins Adams, 1859. However, she also seemed to take a particular liking to one crew member: a 23 year old greenhand named William Abbe. While Ann’s journal (if there ever was one) doesn’t survive, William devoted a number of pages in his own journal to the favoritism she showed him. I swear I was reading this like a soap opera…I was on the edge of my seat going through this journal being like ‘omg…..william…….omg what is this game you’re both playing…….’
“Mrs. Wilson came on deck yesterday when I was at the wheel + talked a little to me when I turning to the Cap who stood a little behind I suddenly asked him ‘how should I keep her—” meaning the ship but for a moment the Cap thought I spoke about his wife and the look he gave me was somewhat peculiar. I soon relieved him by modifying my question. Mem to be careful how I talk when Cap’s wife is around and her husband near.
Last Wednesday Mrs. Wilson came on deck while I was at the wheel and conversed with me for over an hour laughing + talking much to the dismay of the mate + amusement of the foremast hands who accused her of cutting out the Cap. I had no objections so long as the Cap didn’t find fault.”
A portrait of William Abbe at…some point in his life. An absolute rarity to find the faces of 19th century foremast hands.
Her attentions soon extended to gifts, such as hard-to-get condiments or specially cooked dishes for Abbe, or mending of his clothes. On New Years 1859, Abbe described what Mrs. Wilson gave him (which included things from her own husband’s stash)
“Mrs. Wilson sent me some madeira wine last night — a half bottle — capital stuff. This and one of the “Old Man’s” fine havannahs relished deliciously. However both cigars and wine came through the hands of Johnny [the steward] & his fingers probably diminished the one and lightened the other — for he left a bung spile in the bottle instead of the cork. The price I pay for these attentions from Mrs. Wilson is to teach Johnny to read — an almost helpless task he is so careless and in this respect, stupid.”
This favor with the captain’s wife sometimes put Abbe at odds with other members of the crew. A week into the New Year there was some friction.
“The thickheaded Dutchman says I wanted to be smart before the “Old Woman” who happened to be on deck at the time I should have been at the wheel but I hushed him up pretty quick when he remarked this to me […] As a mark of courtesy I always bow to Mrs. Wilson when I meet her on deck, and to the suspicious + jealous Dutchman who really is one of the most woodenheaded fellows I know, in such matters […] this courtesy is a mark of Mrs. Wilson’s partiality for me above the other hands + it fills his dull brain with all kinds of jealous. I don’t allow him to express them aboard but his looks tell plainly what he thinks.”
Mrs. Wilson’s attentions went further, from gifts to invitations to the after cabin. Once, Mrs. Wilson invited him there on the pretense of one thing, only to also make it a social call:
“Mrs. Wilson sent for me last night to ask about some lineament for Johnny’s leg— + inviting me to sit down — as it was my watch below talked with me for half an hour or more, gossiping with true womanly vivacity — till the Cap came down — when I took a lesson in navigation — Johnny smuggled to me about 3 bills — a nice fresh mince pie + a loaf of spice cake — a present from the old woman — made by her own hands — decidedly good they tasted as Shanghai + I discussed them — + home thoughts — It is astonishing how suggestive a mince pie may be”
Abbe was a Harvard law student who took a turn on a whaler ‘for his health’. And as he mentioned above, he had taken to tutoring other members of the crew in reading and mathematics (sometimes of his own volition and sometimes requested to by Mrs. Wilson). He’d also spend the idle hours of watches reading books aloud to everyone, and making up stories of his own by weaving together different plots of classical literature. The captain, for a time, liked him too. He’d take him aside to give him lessons in navigation, and both he and Mrs. Wilson would sometimes give Abbe private information about the course of the ship that no one else was privy to. One can only infer what Mrs. Wilson was thinking when it came to her special attentions towards him. William was the same age as her (her husband was 6 years her senior), and so was on some level very much a peer to her. He was clever, typically generous (though as seen above had his moments of snotty condescension). He was considered by people on board as a ‘man of principles’, who also tended to get real poetic about like…stars and dolphins and sunrises and wrote breathless entries about how much he liked Charlotte Brontë. Perhaps he reminded Ann of a shore society she left herself that was otherwise absent on the ship, in the same ways that the captain’s wife served as such a reminder to the crew. A dynamic, nevertheless, whatever was going on there. Getting her journal is my holy grail of primary sources—I want to know her side of this. Maybe someday…
Some wives also took a larger interest in the industry and the entire crew. Azubah Cash, who joined her husband on the ship Columbia in 1850 along with her 10 year old son Alexander, was very connected to the work and everyone on board. Here are some bits of how ‘our little family’, as she so puts it, interacted with the general doings of the ship.
[Tuesday the 15th]
“Mr Luce had his boat capsized and all of them had to swim and they were fortunate that they were met with no more trouble for Mr. Luce said he had the line twice round him and carried him some distance underwater. about half past 10 o’ clock three boats got on board of the ship and the whale was dead and in an hour she was alongside of the ship. Then they got dinner and have been cutting all the afternoon. I have been on deck and in the starboard boat [whaling wives would sometimes sit in the whaleboats hoisted up on the davits to observe the doings on deck] a-seeing them till my face is almost blistered and Alexanders too. He has been darting an iron that he fixed into the sharks as they come side of the whale.”
[Monday the 16th]
“This morning was quite pleasant but quite a sea on which made it bad about cutting the whale, but they have all worked hard and got him in. I have done my washing and that is the most I have done. Alexander has had a holiday this afternoon to see them get in the whale, he has business enough about this time.”
[Tuesday the 17th]
“I have felt very bad and have been seasick some, have done no work to day. After I eat a little supper I went up far as the gangway to see them cutting up the head. It was curious enough and greasy enough too. We cannot report ourships [written over ‘ourselves’] clean now and I do not believe she will be very soon for the oil has run between decks as far as the dining room, I hope it will not get in here.”
[Wednesday the 18th]
“The wind and sea has abated and it has been a very pleasant day and I have felt very smart have knit and sewed considerable. The Capt officers and crew have been busy enough on deck boiling. I have not payed them a visit except the gangway today but I think I shall before dark but there is not much room and I fear I should get in the way.”
Azubah Cash, perhaps c 1860s.
Mrs. Cash was also very empathetic to the feelings of the crew in success or failure. She was, of course, a sister whaler, and was just as part of that world as they were. She cared deeply for people she didn’t know well or had never met, understanding their situation because they were also also whalers. She found connection under this umbrella identity of a specific kind of hardship. She shed tears when the damaged foremast of an unseen ship was found floating in the water because ‘I think it looks as though some of our brother sailors had fared hard’. She wished luck to all the others whaling in the sea of Okhotsk with them even though they were technically in direct competition with her husband and crew because ‘it is an anxious life’ and she was ‘glad for them or any one that does well’. She felt very sad for the boatsteerer of another crew who was killed by ‘the first whale he had ever struck’, of others who were badly hurt, of their captain who ‘looked very sad and it made us all feel so’, and of how discouraged their fellow shipmates must feel. She felt delight on good days, saying ‘our ship’s company seem to wear more smiling faces this pleasant weather and for my part I feel more smiling and much better every way. I have been trying to make a little candy to sweeten our mouths with and it goes very well if not very good.’
Later on, she gives birth to a son in the middle of the voyage (while staying ashore at Hilo when her husband went North for the whaling season). He becomes quite a little sailor himself, as Azubah describes his baby antics:
“Friday William Murray had a birth day and weighed 21 ¼ lbs. He grows very interesting; he tries to imitate that most he sees us do that is possible for him too. and he goes alone quite nicely; but I suppose it will be sometime before he will give up his creeping if he lives; he requires one to look out for him for he is into all that he can get too, even the transom locker. I think he tries to speak some words. deck for one and Cap and a few, and I think he will talk some soon.”
Like so many other things fascinating about whaling, the presence of Captain’s wives reveals a unique and rich maritime history that is not often explored. Their journals offer another perspective into the work and the society they found themselves in. For further reading about these women, Joan Druett’s book Petticoat Whalers, as well as the published diary of Mary Brewster titled She Was A Sister Sailor, transcribed and edited by Druett, gives remarkable depth to this window of the industry.
A still from the 1922 film Down To The Sea In Ships, of a woman being brought aboard in a “gamming chair.”