WHALE OIL.

No one knows when the whale fishery began. Eight hundred years ago whales were caught off the coast of France and Spain, and before the Pilgrim fathers landed at Plymouth the whale fishery had been carried on to such an extent on the west coast of Europe that the supply of whales had begun to fail. The American whale fishery began with the earliest settlers. They found it profitable to catch whales and try out the oil for use in their lamps. It has been said that one of the arguments for settling on Cape Cod was the presence along the coast of large whales of the best kind for oil and whalebone.

The first whale fishery in America was carried on from Cape Cod, Nantucket, and Martha's Vineyard by large rowboats. A company of hardy pioneers would row out from the coast into deep water, wait for the appearance of a whale, strike their harpoons into his side, and let him run. Sometimes it would be days before death would result. Often he would sink and later rise and float upon the surface. The fishermen would then pull him to the shore and try out the oil. Many whales thus harpooned would be lost to those who had wounded them. A story is told that in the town of Southampton, Long Island, before the year 1650, the men divided themselves into squads to watch night and day for whales that might come ashore, and this became in a few years a regular industry.

After a time whaling vessels were fitted up and sent out for the capture of whales. These vessels cruised in all waters. They coasted along Greenland and into the Arctic Ocean. They traversed the South Seas, and sailed upon the Pacific through all latitudes from Patagonia to Bering Sea. Great vessels—barks, brigs, and full-rigged ships—manned with large crews of stalwart men, with supplies for a three-years' voyage or more, would leave home for a cruise in foreign waters after these monsters of the deep.

When the whale is killed its body is towed alongside the vessel and is made fast by the ship's chains. The fat of the whale is cut into slices, and these slices taken in between decks. This cutting up—or, as the sailors call it, "cutting in"—occupies the entire ship's company for hours. The fat or "blubber," as they call it, is cut into smaller cubical pieces, heated in a large pot, and the oil strained off. This is called "trying out." The oil is stored in casks to be conveyed home. A large whale will give two or three tons of blubber. It is estimated that a ton of blubber will yield nearly two hundred gallons of oil. Sometimes a single whale will produce oil and whalebone to the value of $3,000 or $4,000.

It will readily be seen that whale fishing is both a laborious and a dangerous occupation. The wounded whale is accustomed to strike violently with its tail in the endeavor to destroy its enemies. Here is a true story about the experiences of one family engaged in the whale fishery. Long before the year 1800 and after that date for almost half a century, New Bedford, Nantucket, Martha's Vineyard, and Provincetown in Massachusetts, with Warren and Bristol in Rhode Island, engaged very largely in this hazardous but profitable business. In one of these towns an industrious and enterprising man of more than ordinary ability followed this occupation for half a century and amassed a small fortune. He had several sons. When the oldest grew to manhood he very naturally followed in the footsteps of his father. He went to sea on a whaling vessel and was lost during his first voyage.

The second son shipped on a whaler. In the Arctic waters he was one day pursuing a whale that had already been wounded, rowing with all his might. The whale in his anger struck at the boat with his huge tail, hit the oar with which the young man was rowing, and drove the end of it into his mouth, breaking the bones and crushing in the very interior. Still the young man lived. He was tenderly cared for by his shipmates, and finally reached home. Then he was turned over to the doctors. Skillful surgery supplied him with a false lower jaw, a gold roof to his mouth, and a false palate. He lived many years and was a successful business man. Had you met him on the street he would have talked with you like any other man, and you would have observed nothing unusual except the scars of two cuts on the upper lip.

The third son when eighteen years of age also left home on a whaling voyage. At the end of three years his ship returned with a full cargo of excellent oil. The heavily freighted vessel anchored in the bay, and the captain went up to the town in a rowboat to announce his arrival, and to tell the people of the success of the voyage and that all were well on board. Just as the captain was leaving for the shore some young men in the crew, wishing to celebrate their safe return, proposed firing the ship's swivel-gun. As the captain started over the side of the vessel he cautioned them, saying that the gun was rusty and that it would not be safe to fire it. But it was our young friend's birthday. He would risk the old gun. They ran it out on deck, loaded it up, and touched it off. There was a terrific explosion. The gun burst and blew off both hands of the young man who was celebrating his birthday. Another boat was pushed off for the shore and carried the wounded man to his home. Nothing could save his hands; they were both amputated at the wrists. Through a long life he wore wooden hands covered with kid gloves. He was accustomed frequently to mourn that he had not at least one thumb. If he could have had a single thumb he could have done many things. Was it not Emerson who said that the thumb is the symbol of civilization? Man could never have attained his present position without a thumb.

For many years this man, thus maimed for life, kept a store and sold groceries and ship supplies. A visitor one day saw him weigh out for a lady customer a quarter of a pound of pepper. It was at the noon hour, when the clerks were all away at dinner. The customer came and asked for a quarter of a pound of pepper. The storekeeper pulled out the drawer, placed it on the counter, put a piece of paper in the hopper, adjusted the scale to the quarter pound, slipped one of his wooden fingers through the handle of the little tin scoop, and scattered the pepper upon the paper until the full weight was made. He then returned the drawer to its place, took off the hopper and laid it upon the counter, pulled out the paper and the pepper, doubled the paper over on one side and back from the other side, doubled over one end and then the other, picked it up between his two wooden hands, and handed it to the customer. She placed the money on the back of his hand. With the other hand he pulled open the money drawer and tossed the money in. With both hands he took off his hat, picked up the change with his lips, placed the change upon the back of his hand, and passed it to the lady. Three unfortunate experiences in one family would seem to have been enough, so the next son never went to sea.

We may now ask what was the object of all this whale fishery? Man had made a new invention. He had not only discovered the value of whale oil as a material for furnishing artificial light, he had also invented the modern lamp. In the candle the burning material, whether tallow or something else, is solidified around the wick. The heat from the burning wick melts the tallow and the combustion gives light.

In the modern lamp the simple device of a tube or two tubes to hold the wick is all that is needed over and above those used in ancient times. Tin tubes are placed in the top of the lamp and the wicks run up through the tubes. The lamp then being filled with oil, capillary attraction will bring the oil up to the top of the wick. The lamp when lighted will burn until the supply of oil is exhausted.

The invention of this modern lamp, though very simple, has been of great value. At first it was made of metal—lead, block tin, Britannia, brass—and finally of glass. Lamps of various patterns and different sizes became common. For a long while very little change was made in this new mode of obtaining light. This method continued in common use until about the middle of the nineteenth century.