War Without End

1863

When the Pathfinder entered New Orleans from New York in mid January of 1863,^⁠[1] she did not come laden with luxuries or exotic imports, but with the plain necessities of everyday life. Packed deep within her hold were hundreds of barrels and crates of foodstuffs and provisions from northern markets: five hundred barrels of pork, casks of bacon, pickled pigs’ feet sealed in kegs, tubs of butter, barrels of preserved beef tongues, beans, flour, potatoes, apples, cheese, tea, raisins, soap, candles, and hams packed in great hogsheads.^⁠[2]

It was not glamorous freight, yet it was the cargo of survival and commerce alike—the material substance of daily life carried southward in dangerous wartime seas.

I could not help wondering what sort of future awaited the country should the rebellion succeed. Men spoke often of battles, armies and raiders, yet there were other matters no less serious to those engaged in trade. The Mississippi River, the Gulf ports, the railroads, the customs houses, the whole great machinery of commerce upon which North and West alike depended—all stood in danger of permanent division.

It seemed doubtful to me that two rival republics upon the same continent could long remain at peace. Foreign nations would surely seek advantage in our weakness. Commerce depended upon stability as much as favorable winds, and there had been little stability since the firing upon Sumter.

By the third year of war it grew difficult to imagine how the country could ever return to what it once had been. Slavery itself now stood plainly at the center of the contest.

By the early days of March, the Pathfinder returned to New York harbor with a cargo of sugar, grown and processed upon the lower Mississippi plantations, where the rich river soil and the constant movement of steamers and river craft carried such goods to warehouses and wharves along the Atlantic seaboard.^⁠[3] After discharging her cargo she moved south to Elizabethport, New Jersey to load cargo for Aspinwall.^⁠[4]

New Orleans remained in Union hands, but the river above it was not yet truly open. So long as Vicksburg held, the Mississippi remained broken in the middle, and New Orleans was in some sense still an island of commerce.

Southern planters continued their operations under permits or supervision issued by Union authorities, hoping to preserve what commerce remained possible amid the disorder of war. Others abandoned their estates altogether or resisted Federal control where they still possessed the means to do so.

At the same time the labor system upon which such plantations had long depended was plainly beginning to break apart. Enslaved people increasingly sought freedom wherever Union lines advanced. With plantation labor unsettled, river commerce disrupted, and the middle Mississippi still in Confederate hands, profitable freight out of New Orleans could not be counted upon. The Pathfinder next turned to another trade altogether, clearing from Elizabethport for Panama in the middle of March.

It was an intrepid voyage. Confederate commerce raiders had by then spread themselves across a vast sweep of ocean, preying upon Northern trade in ever more destructive pursuit. The most notorious among them were steam-driven cruisers, heavily armed and capable of ranging far beyond American waters. Reports reached us from nearly every quarter of the Atlantic—off the Gulf Stream, among the islands of the Caribbean, along the coast of Brazil, and even upon distant sea lanes leading toward Africa and the Indies.

Vessels such as ours were built to carry freight, not wage war. A fast bark might sometimes escape by favorable wind and skillful handling, yet against an armed steamer there was often scant hope if she chose pursuit. The raiders seldom sought fair battle, but instead hunted commerce itself—capturing cargoes, burning the ships and spreading alarm throughout every maritime city of the North. It was a melancholy truth that ordinary merchant ships could offer little resistance once overtaken.

It was great relief when two months later, I read that the Pathfinder had safely landed in Aspinwall.^⁠[5] A vessel bound from Elizabethport for Aspinwall was carrying coal for the steamers and the railroad across the Isthmus—completed by this time, and brought to mind the suffering and death I’d seen there a decade before. There was nothing romantic in a hull full of coal—only black dust and weight—but coal moved the modern world as surely as canvas had moved mine.

Having put her coal ashore, she sailed light in ship on the first of May, bound for Trinidad, where there was a better chance of finding something New York would buy. Nine days later, she reached Trinidad.^⁠[6] We would not get another word of her until early June, when she made the harbor of New York.^⁠[7]

A newspaper would give me one word—Trinidad—and leave the rest to a man’s imagination. Yet every such port held a world: planters and laborers, merchants and clerks, black hands loading sugar, brown hands newly brought under contract, British flags over old slave islands, and ships from everywhere waiting their turn. I could not know all of it from South Thomaston, but I knew enough to understand that no cargo came aboard without a history.

From Trinidad to New York in twenty-four days was no lazy passage, but neither was it a miracle. With a fair wind under her and no long spell of calm, a sound barque could make that distance handily enough. The old girl still had life in her canvas—still known for her speed.

From there she might bring home sugar, molasses, cocoa, or pitch—whatever that British island colony offered and New York would buy. After discharging her cargo, she made her way up the Hudson river, some ninety miles to Port Ewen, took on cargo there, and reached Boston on July 1^st.^⁠[8]

Port Ewen meant stone country. The bluestone came out of the Ulster hills in slabs and blocks, blue-gray, hard, and honest, fit for sidewalks, steps, curbing, and foundations. Rosendale rock came out of the Ulster hills as well. It was burned, ground fine, packed in barrels, and sent down the Hudson to wherever men were building in damp places: walls, drains, bridges, cellars, wharves, and foundations. It was not a shining cargo, nor one to set a boy dreaming of far islands, but it was the kind of freight that made cities stand.

Boston was not idle that summer, though the war lay heavy on every town in New England. The Back Bay was still being made out of mud and tidewater—streets and drains had to be laid, houses set upon new ground, and every such improvement called for stone, brick, lime, or cement. The Pathfinder reached the city in July and sailed toward New Orleans before the month had ended.^⁠[9]

In the earlier days of the war, most men spoke first of preserving the Union, believing the rebellion might somehow be suppressed and the country restored much as before. Yet by 1863, the newspapers spoke more openly than they once had of slavery itself.

The South, having long defended “States’ Rights” as its chief justification for leaving the Union, now defended slavery itself more fiercely than before, declaring their whole society depended upon it. Thus the contest grew harsher with each passing season, and when formerly enslaved men began joining the Union Army in greater numbers, Southern anger rose all the more bitterly. But wars are not won by anger alone. They are won by endurance, supply, and the careful movement of armies.

The contest for Vicksburg drew much attention among merchants and shipowners, for it was well understood that the Mississippi River formed the great thoroughfare of the continent. So long as the Confederates held the heights above Vicksburg, they maintained a choke upon that mighty stream, hindering both trade and military movement alike. Newspapers carried long reports of General Grant’s operations there throughout the spring and early summer of 1863.

In the early days of July, the papers came filled with alarming reports from Pennsylvania, where the armies had met near a small town called Gettysburg. At first the news was confused, as such reports often were while the guns were still speaking, but it soon became plain that a battle of terrible size was underway. Lee had brought his army onto Northern soil, and if our men could not stop him there, no one knew whether Harrisburg, Baltimore, Washington, or Philadelphia might next feel the tread of Confederate boots. Maine regiments were in the thick of it, and all across our state families bent over the papers with anxious hearts, knowing the war had come nearer than ever before.

As fuller reports emerged in the days following, it was said the fighting had been among the fiercest of the war. Whole hillsides had been contested at terrible cost, and many thousands fell upon both sides before the Confederate army at last withdrew southward. Great praise was given to the conduct of Maine’s Twentieth Regiment under Colonel Chamberlain. Though the victory brought relief throughout the North, it was tempered by the melancholy knowledge that scarcely a town in Maine had escaped untouched by loss.

While we were still reading the confused and terrible accounts from Gettysburg, word came that Vicksburg had surrendered on the Fourth of July. It seemed then as if the whole war had turned upon two hinges at once. At Gettysburg, Lee’s march into the North was stopped. At Vicksburg, the Mississippi was opened to the Union, cutting the Confederacy in two.

The news brought great excitement. Church bells rang from town to town, cannon were fired in salute, and public gatherings formed almost as soon as the newspapers arrived. Bonfires were lit in many places, while speakers praised the recent victories.

We had hardly finished celebrating when news of the disturbances in New York City reached us in the middle of July. What began as opposition to the draft soon descended into mob violence of the worst sort. Draft offices burned, innocent people were assaulted, and whole sections of the city thrown into disorder. Much of the unrest arose among the laboring classes near the docks and poorer wards, where wartime prices had risen sharply and resentment toward the conscription law ran deep. Many workingmen bitterly objected to wealthier citizens avoiding military service by paying the three-hundred-dollar commutation fee or hiring substitutes, while poorer men possessed no such means of escape.

Adding to the unrest were those who feared that emancipation would bring freedmen northward to compete for already scarce jobs along the waterfront and city trades.

As the riots worsened over the course of days, the violence turned especially cruel toward Black New Yorkers. They were beaten in the streets and many murdered outright by the mobs, while their homes and businesses were destroyed. Most shocking of all was the burning of the Colored Orphan Asylum, where hundreds of children narrowly escaped before the building was set aflame. Though many in the city attempted to protect the innocent and restore order, the reports that reached Maine left us horrified by the savagery displayed in the streets of a Northern city.

To men engaged in commerce the disturbances were troubling indeed. Trade depended not only upon ships and cargoes, but upon stability in the ports themselves. Yet the war now strained every part of the country—upon the seas, in the markets, and even among the working people of Northern cities. Though the victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg raised hopes, the riots served as a grim reminder that the conflict was testing the Union in ways few had imagined at the outset.

Then came the lists of the dead at Gettysburg and every citizen in Maine mourned.

By the summer of 1863 the depredations of Confederate cruisers had become a matter of wider concern. It became so costly that American vessels were transferred to foreign registries for protection, while others were withdrawn from trade altogether rather than risk capture or financial ruin.

Before the Pathfinder reached New Orleans in early September, it had already been determined among us that she should be offered for sale. Such decisions were never made lightly, for a vessel represented not merely capital, but years of labor, risk, and familiarity upon distant waters.^⁠[10]

Shortly after arriving at New Orleans, notices appeared advertising her sale.

Shortly after arriving in New Orleans, the Pathfinder cleared northward again for Rockland carrying ballast.^⁠[11]

Though the North did not suffer want in the same manner as the South, the war nonetheless altered daily life in many ways. Prices rose steadily upon food, cloth, fuel, and nearly every common necessity, while imported goods once easily obtained became scarcer and dearer. The absence of so many young men in the armies was felt upon farms, in workshops, and along the waterfront alike.

Our three little girls ran about the yard with carefree hearts, while Mercy and I tended to the harvest. We went on buggy rides in the evening, visiting friends and relatives alike. When men’s talk turned to shipping news and war, the women often withdrew to the kitchen, where their conversation ran quieter, but not necessarily lighter.

Through the autumn of 1863 the war continued upon many fronts, and though the victories at Gettysburg and Vicksburg had greatly raised Northern spirits, it became increasingly plain that the rebellion was not yet near its end. Newspapers carried constant reports of movements and fighting in Tennessee and along the railroads leading southward toward Chattanooga, where another great contest appeared to be unfolding. Elsewhere the blockade tightened steadily upon the Southern coast, while Confederate raiders still preyed upon Northern commerce upon distant seas.

The armies themselves had now grown immense beyond any early imagination. New regiments were continually raised even as others returned home thinned by battle, sickness, and death. In Maine the wounded increasingly made their appearance once more in towns and villages—some missing limbs, others weakened by fever carrying a soldier’s heart.^⁠[12]

The war hardened the country. Men spoke less often of glory than they once had, and more of endurance.

As winter approached, President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a national day of Thanksgiving, calling upon the country to offer gratitude despite the hardships of war. Throughout Maine churches filled with worshippers giving thanks for recent victories and praying for sons and fathers and brothers still absent in the armies. Yet beneath the prayers and public sermons there remained a growing tension difficult to ignore—how much more sacrifice would yet be required before peace returned to the Union?

The Pathfinder had been dockside since October 5, where she had been inspected and repaired.^⁠[13] Wooden ships demand continual care even in peaceful years, and wartime trade had placed unusual strains upon both hull and rigging alike.

By the close of 1863 the Confederacy was not beaten, but it had been driven inward. Richmond still stood, Lee’s army still guarded Virginia, and the Deep South still held Georgia, the Carolinas, Alabama, and much of the interior. Yet the old map had changed. The Mississippi was lost to them from north to south, Tennessee was nearly gone, and Chattanooga had opened a road by which Union armies might press into Georgia. The Confederacy still had strongholds, but it no longer had the same breadth. It had been cut, narrowed, and forced more and more upon the defensive.

NOTES

¹ Portland Press Herald, January 3, 1863: PORT OF NEW YORK Cld December 27th—barque Pathfinder, Robinson, New Orleans; The Times-Picayune, January 17, 1863: Arrived—Bark Pathfinder, Robinson, 17 days from New York, to master—Point (In New Orleans harbor language of the time, “the Point” commonly referred to Algiers Point, the sharp bend of the Mississippi directly across from the French Quarter. It was a major anchorage, transfer, and waiting area for ships).

² Some goods were consigned to merchants before the vessel sailed, while others were entered merely “to order,” to be sold or claimed after arrival along the busy and crowded levees of New Orleans; The Times-Picayune, January 18, 1863: NEW YORK — Bark Pathfinder — Imports to New Orleans

500 bbls pork to M J Brennan —

15 bbls oil J C Conliff —

20 cks bacon 100 kegs pigs feet 132 firkins butter 36 bbls tongues 50 bxs raisins 50 hf bbls lard 6 bbls beans 6 bbls oil 60 kegs lard H Zuberbier —

13 pkgs cheese B & J Abrams —

100 G H Anderson —

24 do Banpm’n & Kern —

20 bbls beef Thayer, Bibb & Co —

8 kgs butter 5 bbls beans D Tilotson —

220 bbls potatoes 200 bbls apples 5 pkgs mdse Al Terry

20 tes 20 firkins lard F Del Bondio —

50 bxs candles Laporte & Perret —

25 pkgs mdse to P Carpiette —

7 pkgs soap 8 pkgs tea 100 pkgs raisins 50 cases bitters S B Bevan —

125 bbls flour 400 bbls potatoes 60 bbls beef 100 bxs cheese 76 bbls hams 30 hhds hams to order.

³ The New York Times, March 3, 1863: New York - Arrived Bark Pathfinder, (of Rockland), Robinson, New Orleans 16 days, with sugar to master.

⁴ Portland Press Herald, March 23, 1863: Elizabethport—Cleared March 18th, barque Pathfinder, Robinson, Aspinwall

⁵ Portland Press Herald, May 7, 1863: Arrived at Aspinwall April 18th, barque Pathfinder, Robinson, New York

⁶ Portland Press Herald, May 19, 1863: Sailed from Aspinwall, May 1, barque Pathfinder, Robinson, Cuba; Portland Daily Press, May 27, 1863: Bark Pathfinder, Robinson, arrived May 10th, Trinidad from Aspinwall.

⁷ Portland Press Herald, June 3, 1863: New York—Arrived June 1st, barque Pathfinder, Robinson, Trinidad

⁸ Portland Press Herald, July 2, 1863: Boston—Arrived July 1—barque Pathfinder, Robinson, Port Ewen

⁹ Portland Press Herald, July 23, 1863: Boston—Jul 22, sailed, barque Pathfinder

¹⁰ The Pathfinder reportedly sailed from Boston on July 22, and arrived at New Orleans from Boston on September 2. The forty-two-day interval may represent a slow direct passage, delayed departure after clearance, adverse winds, currents, weather, or wartime caution rather than an undocumented stop. However, the appearance of “for sale” notices in New Orleans on September 4th and September 12th suggests that the possibility of selling the vessel had likely been discussed before her arrival. Boston was close enough to South Thomaston, Thomaston, and Rockland for Captain Robinson and the owners or their agents to have corresponded or conferred while the vessel lay there. In the absence of a Boston sale advertisement, this remains an inference from timing rather than proof.

¹¹ The Times Picayune, September 11, 1863: Cleared New Orleans September 10; Exports—Barque Pathfinder—ballast; The Pathfinder’s brief appearance in New Orleans followed by a “for sale” notice and then a northward clearance in ballast is difficult to interpret. No surviving notice yet proves that she carried troops or military stores, but the timing and lack of ordinary freight are suggestive. The sale advertisement may have been genuine, exploratory, or even a cover for shifting orders in wartime. Until further evidence appears, the movements of the Pathfinder remain a mystery beyond concluding that the vessel was redirected rather than engaged in normal commercial trade.

¹² Soldier’s heart” was a term used during and after the Civil War to describe a range of symptoms observed in soldiers who returned from combat suffering from nervous exhaustion, anxiety, palpitations, shortness of breath, trembling, disturbed sleep, and emotional distress without obvious physical injury. Physicians such as Dr. Jacob Mendes Da Costa later studied the condition in detail, sometimes calling it “irritable heart.” Though medical understanding at the time remained limited, historians today often recognize many such cases as resembling what is now known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). Other contemporary terms included “nostalgia,” “melancholia,” and “nervous prostration.

¹³ Portland Daily Press, October 10, 1863: ROCKLAND—Ar 5th, bark Pathfinder, Robinson, New Orleans;  No completed sale has been identified, nor does there appear to have been any prolonged effort to market the ship. The brief offering in New Orleans may reflect wartime uncertainty within American shipping rather than a determined attempt to dispose of the vessel outright. After returning north, the Pathfinder laid up at Rockland from October through the end of the year before resuming Gulf trade in January 1864. This subject deserves more research—did she sell or did Edward Graves and other partners in the ship have a change of mind and sent word to Captain Robinson to sail her home?