By Marilyn May
Milford History
The schooner David Porter, built in Milford and shown here in 1814, was first commanded by Captain Adam Pond and later by Captain George Coggeshall, both of this town. Pond was lost at sea in 1823 at age 39. Lithograph by A. Weingartner. Original in Cornell University Library.
Most people know about Captain Kidd, and even more know about the fictional Captain Jack Sparrow of “Pirates of the Caribbean” fame. But how many people know about Captain George Coggeshall?
Coggeshall was a highly successful sea captain who kept detailed logs on all his voyages from the time he was a 15-year-old cabin boy up to when he was captain of all kinds of ships and sailed “every ocean.”
He was born in 1748 in Milford and grew up on Gulf Street, not far from the harbor. His grandfather and father were both sea captains, so life at sea was in his blood. In all, he made 80 voyages. In later life, he selected 36 for a book he called “Thirty-Six Voyages to Various Parts of the World, Made Between the Years 1799 and 1841.”
In his early days, many of his voyages from Milford, New Haven and New York were to the West Indies.
Trade schooners, he sometimes found out too late, were often in poor shape and leaked so badly that the crew had to man the pumps – four hours on, four off – around the clock. Almost no schooners had coppered hulls, so they became covered with barnacles and sea grass that impeded speed and caused the wooden hulls to rot. Those vessels were derisively called “horse jockeys,” because they often transported horses, but many died in transit.
On a voyage to the Guianas in South America, Coggeshall had made the “rank” of seaman, and was joined onboard by seaman Stephen Trowbridge, also of Milford. A typical cargo from New England was lumber and live animals – oxen, hogs, sheep, poultry and horses. Schooners returning to American ports were filled with such things as sugar, coffee, oranges, coconuts, molasses and rum.
Coggeshall’s personal logs contained notes on navigation, weather and sea conditions, along with stories about the people he met, including their history and culture. He learned enough of their language to sell his cargo and perhaps buy more.
On a crossing to Europe, the motion of the ship caused a new crewmember to become wretchedly seasick, and the man said, “Well, Mr. C, this is a miserable life; what fools men are to let pride and ambition drive them to sea and thus suffer and endure sickness and every kind of discomfort.”
Coggeshall remarked, “My young friend, your feelings on the subject are perfectly natural; I have heard the same resolves a thousand times from the uninitiated in the mysteries of a sea life. Just wait until you see foreign lands and (have) felt the excitement which the dangers and vicissitudes of such a life are sure to produce, and then after having made a good voyage and got safe back, only think how delightful it is to meet one’s friends and find everyone glad to see you. Depend upon it, sir, you will not willingly remain two months on shore, before you will sign for another voyage.”
During his time in New York and Connecticut ports, he used every chance he could to visit his mother, brothers and sister in Milford. (His father had died in 1800.)
Coggeshall was lucky to have made 80 voyages and lived to tell his story, considering the fate of his six brothers, all born in Milford. Robert and Charles were “lost at sea,” and William and Francis “died at sea.” The deaths of two other brothers, John and James, are listed respectively as “died abroad” and “died in Porto Rico.”
During his travels, the seas were awash with pirates who boarded ships and brutally fought for advantage. At stake were cargos worth as much as tens of thousands of dollars and the lives of the crew. Pirates would either sink a ship or take it as a prize.
In one encounter when boarded by a gang of pirates, Coggeshall recalls, the fighting raged and then suddenly stopped. It happened that Masonic signs, meant to serve as symbols of brotherhood and shared values, actually won the battle. Most of the cargo was left untouched and all the officers sat down to a congenial supper of cold ham and cheese. Then each ship sailed on its way.
By the time of the War of 1812, Coggeshall was a commercial vessel captain.
There were many reasons why the US declared war on the British Empire, but one was the restrictions put in force by Britain to impede American trade with France, which was at war with Britain.
Coggeshall also recounts many sea battles with, and the capture of, privateers from 1812 to 1815. Unlike pirates, privateers piloted privately owned ships commissioned by their governments with “letters of marque” allowing them to capture and confiscate merchant ships of enemy nations. During the war, American privateers did more to capture enemy ships than the US Navy, which was relatively small at the time.
He writes that with the War of 1812-1815, “British invincibility and British supremacy were at an end. The stars and stripes were no longer a theme of ridicule – our commerce was no longer at the mercy and conducted by the permission and sufferance of England.”
He was hired in 1825 by the New York owners of the “Gov. Clinton” to take the 380-ton vessel around Cape Horn while carrying cargo worth almost $100,000 to Chile, Peru and Columbia. Before sailing, it was agreed that Captain David Hepburn, also of Milford, be made master of the ship, and Coggeshall would be responsible for selling the cargo at a profit.
As Coggeshall started this trip, he wrote, “Now being assured that I had the entire confidence of my enterprising employers and satisfied that they had allowed me a liberal compensation for my anticipated services, I felt that they were entitled to my utmost exertions and untiring industry to promote their interest in every honorable way in my power.”
The trip down the east coast of South America was routine (except for almost bumping into the coast of Brazil). Rounding Cape Horn was also routine, but in a vastly different way. When they reached the lower latitudes, Coggeshall wrote in his log about mountainous seas, shrieking and contrary winds that whipped the tops of waves into white foam. There were violent squalls, frequent snow and hail, lightning and strong currents running against their progress. There were sunless days making it impossible to “shoot the sun” to calculate the ship’s position. And when the sun did break through the clouds, they sometimes found they had made little to no progress since their last calculations.
“The weather was cold and dreary with much ice and snow about the decks, so that the ship was completely cased in ice,” he wrote, adding that “When water splashed on the deck it froze almost instantly.”
“I made a moderate calculation that we have on deck and about the sides of the ship at least 15 tons of ice and snow,” he recalled. The thermometer in his cabin showed him what he suspected: the temperature was 24 degrees Fahrenheit.
As if all that wasn’t enough, Coggeshall and crew saw sea creatures: “This day at eleven o’clock in the morning, we saw four strange fish. They were but a short distance from the ship, and appeared to be twenty or thirty feet long, with heads – say about the size of a barrel – which, in swimming, they held above the water. They seemed to be in pairs, and were a great curiosity, as no one on board had ever seen fish of this description.” That was the last said about these serpents of the sea.
Back in New York in between commands, he married his first wife, Sarah Breck Pierpont in Brooklyn in 1816. Their first daughter died at the age of 6 months, and a second girl died before she was 2 years old. Then Pierpont succumbed in 1822, and the three are buried together in Brooklyn. In 1831, Coggeshall married Elizabeth Cottrill, and they had three daughters and two sons. She died in 1851.
At the end of his 40 years at sea, he writes, “I now began to feel that I was growing old, and that it was about time for me to withdraw from active life. I purpose hereafter to attend to the education of my children, and to spend the residue of life in quiet repose.”
His repose was quiet but productive. He wrote four books based on his time at sea. One was on the “History of the American Privateers and Letters of Mark, Etc.” published in 1856 and reprinted at a later date. In his day, the second printing was considered the authoritative voice on the subject.
Coggeshall died in 1861 and is buried in the old Milford Cemetery where many of his relatives are interred, but there is no stone to mark his grave. It was broken sometime after 1938.
It is sad that this man who faced down the cruelest weather on earth, traded fairly in every port, acted shrewdly with pirates and privateers has no place for his epitaph.
Marilyn May is a lifelong resident of Milford and is on the board of the Milford Historical Society.