Saturday Morning, September 16, 2023
Trompe d'œil
This week has been a highly unusual week. Vacations. Operations. New limited hour week schedule. And then the tsunami arrived. Categories in this auction have exploded. Jewelry is what you have come to expect. Artwork you will love. And the furniture. Settings in both rooms from antique to present day pieces. Display tables loaded. No coins though, a purpose decision. Next week will be your just reward. Not many boxed books, but the ephemera case is, well, you see it. All this and we have only three auction teams available. Isn't this new age fun? You will have a great day tomorrow though. This, your just reward.
Captain of the Pole Star
A windward breeze snapped the sails to attention. The night air was fresh, the sea swelling. Captain Chase had volunteered for Middle Watch, letting his sailors rest. Their day had been long, difficult, navigating Cape Horne. Now, with a steady breeze into the Pacific, reliable until dawn, they slept, their sails requiring little trimming
On Board Ship Radiant,
The property of Erastus B. Chase, West Yarmouth, Mass.
Calligraphy journal written while at sea.
Illustrated page dated July, 6, 1856. Today, Captain Chase resides in West Yarmouth at the Woodside Cemetery.
Pencilled sketch by Captain Chase.
Juan Fernendez [Islands,] southern most point, Sept. 14th, 1856 while the ship was lying becalmed...
These islands are located off Chile, an outcrop, remainders of a vast lost archipelago.
Surprised though they were their captain should volunteer the midnight bells, for him, it was an escape. Here, in the dark and solitude, he found satisfaction. The success he had worked so hard all his life now rested in his hands. He gripped the ship's wheel. He felt the sea beneath his ship, both in harmony, dancing with one another. All his experience, all his knowledge. Powerful. The stars overhead shined their approval, their light a royal splendor. The crescent moon had slipped into the western horizon hours ago. Now, only starlight brilliance danced among the waves. All these years and the sea still beckoned.
Carte-de-visite of Captain Erastus Chase (181-1864). West Yarmouth was the home for many sea captains. They earned a living contracting with ship owners, many of these Quakers. Still, today, their homes stand along a route called Captains' mile.
Sirens Sweetly Singing
How far he had come since his youth. How inexperienced he was. How naïve. Life tempers one's soul. Still, those were wonderful days. Onboard the first time. The salty smell. The wood and tar. Elixirs. Camaraderie was supreme. A working crew, woven as tight as a sailcloth, made for a remarkable voyage.
A small portfolio of mosses collected on Chincha Islands, Sept. 17th, 1862. Total of six in original paper wrapping. Presented to Captain Chase at sea, Ship Radiant.
Ships are a small spot for large disagreements. Human interaction tested. All kept in line by the captain. Now, he was the captain. His skills earned him advancement, a position he wore proudly. He was responsible for the crew, passengers, cargo, and the ship. It was a great task. One requiring trust. This he had accepted without hesitation. It made him feel good about himself and those surrounding him. The ship, the sea, and thee. Wind in the rigging started singing its song. Notes falling and rising in the night breeze. It was a tune he knew well. It carried a cadence, rhythm, more so comfort. The darkness still held against the eastern daylight. If only he could freeze this moment forever. The ship's bell struck four. He closed his eyes and breathed in. Time in a bottle.
The Chincha Islands are thirteen miles off the coast of Peru. Small in size, the islands are home to thousands of seabirds. The guano covering the granite rocks became a prime export. By 1874, the supply had been exhausted.
The One After 909
118...119...120. The train shot clear of the tunnel and into the valley, hugging the tracks, balanced on a granite ledge. Beyond, pure wilderness. Now clear, the engineer pushed up the throttle. The fireman glanced up and smiled. Right on time, he spoke. The mountain tunnel was two miles long. At 60 miles per hour... Always a test, of equipment, of performance.
Photograph on academy board, John Bull Trial Run, The John Bull, a British built locomotive, was started in service in 1831, running on the Camden Amboy line. It was donated to the Smithsonian in 1885. Image in delicate conditon, 8" x 10"
Nowhere was this new industrial age better understood than in the cabin of a steam locomotive. The engineer pulled on the cord. A shrill whistle blast announced their presence, the sound echoing throughout the canyon, repeating long into silence. No stations here. No crossings. The world of regulations was distant. He pulled the cord several more times. They laughed. It was just them, the train, and the crisp night air, the latter repelled from the cabin each time the fireman opened the firebox door. Hissing and screeching permeated their hearth. Escaping steam from a boiler in mayhem, and the wheels on the tracks. On they rumbled into the night.
In the Still of the Night
How did he get here? the engineer thought. Yesterday he was a kid in Kansas. Today he was riding through the Rocky Mountains operating a locomotive. Life has more twists than a mountain pass. He didn't grow up in a train family. Never even thought about it. The key was math. He enjoyed it. In school, he always looked forward to the subject. It served him well. Somewhere along the line, math led him to a railroad company where he hitched a ride, his first stop the mechanic's shed. Then, he leapt from one station to another, welcoming all challenges, and ending up here.
Columbian Exhibition, 1893, Chicago, Illinois.
The John Bull was resurrected to operate again.
It made the trip from Jersey City to Chicago in five days, feted and revered along the journey, a magnet for the politicians. At the fair, visitors could ride the train. Following this adventure, the John Bull returned to static display in the Smithsonian.
He loved the responsibility. Guiding a massive belching iron horse just seemed right. How it bucked and fought. His job was to maintain equilibrium. Knowing he had this ability pleased him, assured safety for his passengers. It was such a feeling of accomplishment.
Early locomotive Old No. 4. Built in 1833, the No. 4 would run the rails until 1859. Wesley Thompson was an engineer in Bordentown, New Jersey 8" x 10"
Not many crews liked the night runs. He loved them. He knew every mile along the way. Each turn, each gradient, each tunnel, and the time it took to pass through them. Speed. Time. Distance. A continual challenge. This was the way he was wired. Now on a straight run down the valley, the fireman sat down for a nap. This was the engineer's favorite moment. Just him and the ironhorse, speeding into the dark. With his fingertips on the throttle, he could feel the incredible horsepower. Gauges answered his inquiries. There was song, a cadence in metronome perfection, in the wheels, in the rail, in his mind. This was a sweet moment, all he had worked for. He wore his engineer cap proudly.
One Small Step for a Man, One Giant Leap for Mankind
What makes an individual rise to a level of responsibility? Some heed the calling. If the opportunity avails, we reach, never considering any alternatives. This the lesson. There is no single formula for success. If there was, no one would be successful. There are many paths. The skills in sailing a nineteenth century ship are identical to operating a nineteenth century locomotive. One is trained in the particulars of course, but all share the requirements of discipline, commitment, and responsibility. It is essential. Success's circadian cycle. How a society insures this system is the great unknown. Personal ambition is, well, personal. We all push forward, hoping the youth sees the rewards in jobs well done. We will do our part, keeping our sails trimmed and our boiler stoked again this Saturday.
Industrial Age in America.
Allen Thompson, Jr. with a steam drill, a tool advancing the mining industry into the stratosphere, 9" x 11".
Doors open at 8 AM. Auction starts at 9 AM. PA AU 1265L [bb]