Alfred Agate in Seattle!*

Alfred Agate in Seattle!*

Check this out!  I just happened upon the Agate Passage over which the Agate Bridge spans, connecting the Kitsap Peninsula to Bainbridge Island (north of Seattle, Washington.) 

And guess who they’re named after?  Ossining’s own Alfred Agate!!

Agate Passage with Agate Bridge in distance, 2025
The Agate Passage Bridge, 2025

How did this come to be?

Well, if you’ve been following this blog, you’ll know that I’ve been quite obsessed with artist Alfred Agate, born in the Sparta neighborhood of Ossining in 1812.  He went on to be an artist/illustrator on the U.S. Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842 (aka the USXX.)  

See here  and here  for a refresher.

To recap briefly, the USXX was the largest U.S expedition you’ve never heard of, and its mission was multi-pronged:

  • Survey as much of the South Pacific as humanly possible (primarily for the then-flourishing whale trade)
  • Enter into agreements with the local chiefs to protect American interests and sailors (for aforesaid whale trade, but also any other lucrative businesses)
  • Discover if Antarctica was an actual landmass or just a pile of snow and ice
  • Survey the Columbia River and the Pacific Northwest before heading home by way of the Philippines.  

It’s this last bullet point that interests us.

The expedition began with six ships, but lost one rounding Cape Horn in 1838, and sent one home in 1839, so by the time they were approaching the West Coast of North America in 1840, there were only four ships.  At this point in the expedition, leader Lt. Charles Wilkes was often splitting his armada up to save time and maximize efficiency.

In December of 1840, our Alfred was aboard the USS Peacock which was trying to complete numerous complex missions, such as surveying the western edge of the South Pacific whaling grounds, correcting some previous USXX surveys of Samoa, and arresting a couple of Samoan chiefs because Lt. Wilkes said so. She and her crew were supposed to complete all this in time to meet the rest of the ships at the mouth of the Columbia River by May 1, 1841.  

Lt. Wilkes had gone ahead with his other two ships, the USS Vincennes and the USS Porpoise, taking them into the Strait of San Juan de Fuca between the northern edge of Washington State and Vancouver Island on May 1, 1841.  For 2 ½ months they would meander down to Puget Sound surveying as they went. (Of course, the British-held Hudson’s Bay Company was firmly ensconced there, trading in beaver and other skins, among other things. But that didn’t stop Lt. Wilkes . . . )

In late May, Lt. Wilkes would travel overland back down to the mouth of the Columbia River to meet up with the USS Peacock, but it would not be there.  With no way to contact them, he had no idea where they were or what was making them so late.  He left his ship’s purser, Waldron, to wait for them.  After six weeks, Waldron would abandon his post, leaving his Black servant John Dean to wait in his stead.  Good thing too, because Dean would make friends with the local Chinook Indians, and turn out to be a quick, decisive leader. When the Peacock finally did arrive in mid-July, she would founder on the bar at the mouth of Columbia. Our Alfred, his illustrations and the rest of the crew survived only because Dean dispatched several canoes of Chinook to save all hands before she sank in ignominy.

“The Wreck of the USS Peacock and its Abandonment”,
by Alfred Agate, 1841.
(Note the canoes of Chinook courageously navigating the storm-tossed waters.)
Courtesy of the Naval History and Heritage Command

But back to Agate Passage – I cannot find any explanation as to WHY the surveying crew of the Vincennes/Porpoise would name this passage after Alfred (I mean, he wasn’t aboard either ship surveying this region.) However, the Agate Passage (over which the Agate bridge was built in 1950) had apparently been missed by previous explorers and so remained unnamed by Europeans. (Captain George Vancouver’s 1792 expedition, I’m looking at you!) 

 Of course, the native Suquamish people knew of this passage as it bordered their land, and likely had their own name for it (though I also haven’t discovered this.)  

But, as we know, European explorers liked to rename everything to honor their people, so Agate Passage this became.

My theory is that because the USS Peacock was so tardy in arriving at the Columbia River, the remaining crew feared that the ship was lost.  And they all seemed to admire our young illustrator, being especially moved by the way he handled a debacle in Fiji when two USXX crew members, Lt. Underwood and midshipman Wilkes Henry were murdered in retaliation for the kidnapping of a Fiji chief. (See here for that story)

So, perhaps this was why they decided to name this passage after Alfred Agate.

What do you think?

* This title is a bit of clickbait because now you know Alfred Agate wasn’t ever in Seattle — he would get to the mouth of the Columbia River and then immediately head south.

Women’s History Month 2025 – Virtual Exhibit

Welcome to the virtual exhibit page for Ossining Women’s History Month 2025!

While the installation at the Ossining Public Library (53 Croton Avenue) is no longer on display, the entire exhibit will live on this blog in perpetuity.

Who are these women?

These are all remarkable women local to Ossining who made a big impact in shaping our community and our world.  Some are national figures. Some have local streets, schools or parks named after them. And some just did their work quietly.  But all have accomplishments that deserve to be recognized and shared.

What will you see?

This is a retooling and enlargement of last year’s exhibit presented at the Bethany Arts Community, with expanded biographies and four more fascinating women included.

These women represent all facets of American life – art, religion, science, politics, military service, activism, and philanthropy. Those with a higher profile in life offer more images and material. Others avoided the limelight (either on purpose or through circumstance) and less is known about them, but this exhibit will help uncover and celebrate all of their remarkable stories.

To learn more about each woman featured, simply click on their names below and you’ll be quickly directed to a page with their detailed biography, including photos and links to further enrich their extraordinary stories.

Enjoy!

Caroline Ranald Curvan
Ossining Town Historian & Exhibit Curator

Before you go . . .

Help me curate Women’s History Month 2026!

I’d like to add to this group of Local Legends by crowd-sourcing nominations for next year’s Women’s History Month exhibit.

Who would you like to see honored and why? (They should be women who have some connection to the Ossining area . . .)

You can either fill out this brief form online or complete a hard copy at Ossining Library (downstairs in the exhibit gallery.)

Harriet Agate Carmichael – Artist

“A Lady of the Agate Family”
 Family legend has that this is a portrait of Harriet, painted by her older brother Frederick Agate  c. 1830s 
Courtesy of the New York Historical Society

Harriet Agate Carmichael
1817 – 1871

Artist
***Local Connection: 2 Liberty Street***

2 Liberty Street, Ossining, c. 2024
Built c. 1820 by Harriet’s father Thomas Agate, 
the home is still standing and still occupied today.

One of three artistic siblings, Harriet Agate was born in Sparta in 1817. (Today Sparta is part of the Village of Ossining.)

In 1833, Harriet was one of the first women invited to show a painting at the National Academy of Design’s annual Art Exhibition. That painting was called “A View of Sleepy Hollow,” and was exhibited at the Eight Annual Exhibition, held at Clinton Hall, Beekman Street from May 14 – August 20, 1833.

While it cannot currently be proven, I have a hunch that the painting below could be the one Harriet Agate showed at the 1833 National Academy of Design’s Art Exhibition.  
Hers was titled “A View of Sleepy Hollow.”

“View of Sleepy Hollow
c. 1834 – 1867
Unknown artist
Courtesy of Historic Hudson Valley

There are only two surviving paintings known to be by Harriet:

Still Life with Apples
By Harriet Agate, c. 1830
Courtesy of the Ossining Historical Society and Museum
At the Monument of Lysicrates
Oil painting on board by Harriet Agate, c. 1830
Courtesy of the Newark Museum of Art

When the Newark Art Museum accepted this painting in 1959, curator William H. Gerdts wrote the following notes: 

It is an almost primitive painting, most interesting from a general cultural point of view . . . It shows a Greek soldier in costume lying on the ground with a Greek woman, also in native costume, next to him.  A big Greek monument is in the centre behind him (Choragic Monument of Lysikrates I think.) Now, the subject of the picture is not known, but from the figures in it and from the time it was painted (it looks circa 1820 to 1830) I am sure it is a provincial American expression of sympathy with the Greek revolution —  same time as Lord Byron’s [poem entitled “January 22, Missolonghi”] and Delacroix’s “Greek Expiring on the Ruins of Missalonghi” . . . but it is a relatively rare to see this in American art.

It is noteworthy that the people depicted in “At the Monument of Lysicrates” look particularly awkward – an indicator perhaps of the limitations placed on women artists at that time.  Women would not have been allowed to take figure drawing classes, as viewing nude models would have been considered decidedly inappropriate.

This painting was included in a 1965 exhibit at the Newark Art Museum on “Women Artists of America, 1707 to 1964.”

Harriet’s two paintings and many of her brothers’ (Frederick and Alfred Agate) had been carefully kept in the attics of Agate family descendants (first in the Liberty Street house and then in another on Agate Avenue) until 1959 when Harriet’s great granddaughter, Melodia Carmichael Wood Ferguson, would discover them and give them to the Ossining Historical Society.  Most were then donated to the New-York Historical Society and the Newark Art Museum, where they are not on public view but are safely stored in climate-controlled warehouses. 

Around 1837, Harriet married Thomas J. Carmichael, a contractor for the Sing Sing portion of the Croton Aqueduct. They lived with her mother in the Agate family house at 2 Liberty Street. Harriet’s husband may have also contracted with Sing Sing Prison, then called Mount Pleasant State Prison, to use inmate labor for his stone cutting business.

Unfortunately, as was proper for women of the time, Harriet mostly seems to have lived in the shadows of the men in her life.  All we have are these two paintings, the possible portrait painted by her brother Frederick, some deeds of property sales, and a few mentions of her in the biographies of her artist brothers.  We don’t know if she continued painting, or if the responsibilities of motherhood and the pressure of societal norms caused her to abandon the pursuit of her art altogether.

We do, however, have this delightful silhouette of the couple:

Silhouette of Harriet and Thomas Carmichael
Made by Auguste Edouart, 1843
Handwritten caption reads:
Mr. and Mrs. Thomas J. Carmichael of Sing Sing, 
Mount pleasant, Westernchester [sic] Co.
Saratoga Springs, 6th August 1843
Courtesy of a private owner

Harriet would have five children and move to Wisconsin with her family in 1846 to live on a farm in Lake Mills.  Sadly, husband Thomas died there in 1848, and after settling his estate, Harriet returned to Sparta where she lived with her mother Hannah at 2 Liberty Street and then with her daughter Melodia Frederica Carmichael Foster in Brooklyn.

Harriet died in 1871 in Brooklyn and is buried in Sparta cemetery.

Tonga, where “A great feast of piglets, taro, yams, bananas and cocoanuts was offered. . .” (Post #8)

Tonga, where “A great feast of piglets, taro, yams, bananas and cocoanuts was offered. . .” (Post #8)

Today’s post will detail the very important cultural ritual of the Polynesian feast, something I was privileged to experience while in Tonga.

First, some context and history . . .

From July 24 – 27, 2024, I was on Vava’u, an island in the Kingdom of Tonga.   Tonga is an archipelago that consists of 169 (or so) islands, of which 36 are inhabited.  Vava’u is, unsurprisingly, one of the largest islands in the northern Vava’u group.

Map of Tonga
Courtesy of GISgeography.com

Interestingly, Tonga is the only Polynesian country that has never been officially colonized.  In 1900, it became a British protective state but did not relinquish its power or independence.

Tonga and neighboring Samoa are considered the western gateway to what we call the Polynesian Triangle (which consists of Hawaii to the north, Easter Island to the east and New Zealand to the west.)  According to Christina Thompson’s excellent book Sea People,  Tonga is where the “oldest languages, longest settlement histories and deepest Polynesian roots” can be found.

It’s believed that Tonga and Samoa have been inhabited for about 2,500 years. Traditional Tongan and Samoan histories tell of an empire that was ruled by Tui Manu’a – both a man and a god.  In about 950AD, the first Tu’i Tonga, Aho’eitu (considered the son of god Tangaloa) began expanding his reach, turning Tonga into a superpower that controlled much of what is today’s central Polynesia.  Tongan hegemony would hold through the 13th century when civil wars in Tonga and Samoa weakened the empire.

As far as the European presence goes in Tonga, the Dutch first put these islands on maps.  First, Schouten and Le Maire stopped here in 1616 (the year William Shakespeare died, just for a bit of context) learning some of the local language while trading for yams, pigs, bananas and fish.  In 1642, Dutch explorer Abel Tasman limped through here after his disastrous encounter with the Maori of Aotearoa (New Zealand) and was relieved to note that the islanders in Tonga seemed friendly and eager to trade.  

Captain Cook of Great Britain passed through here in 1773 and dubbed them the “Friendly Islands” due to the royal reception he received from the locals.  And we can’t forget that the infamous mutiny of the Bounty happened about 30 miles east of the Tongan island of Tofua. Captain Bligh and his 18 loyalists would land their open launch and briefly take shelter in a cave on the northwest coast of Tofua Island.  Bligh would write up his report of the mutiny here, as well as a letter to his wife as he directed his men to assess their supplies.  

And in April 1840, our US Exploring Expedition briefly stopped at Tongatapu (today considered the main island of Tonga) for about a week. Expedition leader Lt. Charles Wilkes primarily planned to use it as a rendezvous point for his four remaining ships, as some had gone south to explore Antarctica, and some had been in Sydney for repairs.  

Unfortunately for us, Wilkes had little interest in the islands, as he was much more concerned with getting to Fiji and securing advantageous treaties for the US regarding the lucrative whaling and bêche de mer industries.

However, while in Nukualofa on Tongatapu, Wilkes inserted himself as a negotiator into a local war between two native groups – the Christians, led by King Josiah (or Tubou) and the (so-called) “Devils,” those who did not follow the Christian teachings of the London Missionary Society. I am hard-pressed to understand Wilkes’ part in a peaceful end to this feud, as his writing on this is as impenetrable as it is condescending.  Suffice to say, the disagreement seems to have resolved itself in spite of Wilkes’ meddling.  And today Tonga considers itself a Christian nation, with 99% of the population identifying as Christian.

Here’s an illustration by Alfred Agate of the residence of King Josiah (Tubou) on Nukualofa: 

Illustration by Alfred Agate from The Narrative of the US Exploring Expedition, volume 3
Courtesy of the Library of Congress

Now, onto feasts!

One of the things that Lt. Charles Wilkes constantly writes about in his Narrative are the feasts and rituals he attended. These could take hours or even days and were essential to attend to meet and connect with the various chiefs and leaders.  

And while Wilkes was the big chief of the USXX, other officers were also tapped to attend these feasts in his stead at times.  I know that Alfred Agate attended many of these himself, though perhaps not one in Tonga.

While in Vava’u, I was privileged to be invited to an umu, a traditional Tongan feast, hosted by Europa crew member Vi Latu and her extended family.  As Vi explained to us, this was her family’s way of welcoming us to Tonga.

As we arrived on Ano Beach, the palm trees were gently blowing and the sun was setting. The entire area was taken up with an underground oven, an enormous tent and long table, an area for musicians and dancing, and local artists displaying their crafts.  

What’s remarkable, is that many of the traditions on display in 2024 are quite similar to those described by Wilkes in his Narrative.  So please indulge me as I’ll describe the traditional feast I attended using lightly edited excerpts from the Narrative of the US South Seas Exploring Expedition (published in 1845), and illustrated with photos from 2024.  

Note that what follows is a compilation of observations Wilkes made throughout the South Pacific (primarily Tahiti, Tonga, Samoa, Fiji and Hawaii.) Taken together like this, we get a sense of the deep cultural connection between these Polynesian nations, as well as seeing how the ancient traditions are still intact and observed today.

Wilkes’ observations are italicized below.  Mine are not.

The feast takes many hours to prepare and is generally directed by the women, with the men performing the labor. First, the cooking-place is excavated, a foot deep and about eight feet square:
Traditional Polynesian underground oven, Tongan-style
The meat is placed upon hot stones after which taro, yams and coconuts are placed. Finally, it is all covered with banana leaves and earth.   After many hours, the oven is unpacked of all its good things . . .
 
“After many hours, the oven is unpacked of all its good things . . .”
There is an abundance of fish. They likewise have fine crabs, and they are also generous with fowls and pigs.
Their feasts are attended with much ceremony and form . . .
Our feast began with Vi explaining all the delicious foods that were being served to us and how best to eat them.
Vi Latu explaining how to eat papaya and coconut steamed in a coconut shell.
Photo courtesy Andrew Willshire
Then we were asked to take our seats at the long table, and the most senior man of Vi’s clan blessed the meal. (I did not feel comfortable taking a photo of this.) 
Then, we were encouraged to dig in, using our hands (although forks were provided.)
Photo courtesy Sandy Gale
The first course consists of fish, some steamed in banana leaf, and some served in banana trunks. The second course is taro, yams & kumara, with fruit and bananas offered as well.  The third and principal course consists of meat – whole piglets are served and then disjointed.
Still the same . . .
The piglet was sliced at the table with a machete.  We were encouraged to tear off chunks and enjoy.

After the third course, dancing, music, stories, and kava-drinking succeed . . .
Dancing . . .



Music and kava.
What is remarkable to me is how little the traditions have changed.  One of the only differences I noted between Wilkes' descriptions and what I experienced was that the feast I attended only took four hours.
Also, I think it’s edifying to note that kava, which is a soporific that makes one a bit loopy and anesthetizes the mouth, is no longer prepared in the way Wilkes observed in his Narrative:
The younger women prepare the kava and are required to have clean and undecayed teeth.  They  are not allowed to swallow any of the juice, on pain of punishment. As soon as the kava-root is chewed, it is spit into the kava-bowl, where water is poured on it with great formality. The king's herald, with a peculiar drawling whine, then cries "Sevu-rui-a-na," (‘make the offering.’) After this, a considerable time is spent in straining the kava through cocoa-nut husks. Kava is made from the Piper mythisticum, and it is the only intoxicating drink they have.
Wilkes in fact refused to drink the kava thus prepared and his hosts, on at least one occasion, gave him coconut water instead. (I feel the need to note that Captain Cook often drank the kava.)  After speaking to Vi, her family and others throughout Polynesia, it’s been reinforced what an important part of the culture kava drinking still is.  Back in the 1840s, refusing to participate fully in a kava ceremony would, I think, have been curious at best and a terrific insult at worst.

Fun fact: Later on, I visited the village of Naseva, on the island of Beqa in Fiji and took part in a traditional kava ceremony where I got to see how the kava is made:
Making kava
Today, dried kava root is ground into a powder then rehydrated and strained through a cloth when needed.  Chants are still sung as this takes place.
You’ll note that we are all wearing sarongs and have our shoulders covered.
Wilkes’ description of a kava ceremony in Fiji is completely recognizable to me, as it is quite similar to what I experienced:
The kava-bowl was three feet in diameter. In drinking the kava, the first cup was handed to [the chief], and as there was more in it than he chose to drink, the remainder was poured back into the bowl. The ceremony of clapping of hands was then performed. 

We were instructed to clap once before we received the bowl (made of half a coconut shell), then drink the whole thing down, and clap three times after we handed the empty bowl back.  (And yeah, if someone didn't finish their bowl, it was poured back into the big kava bowl. And then served back out.) 

And what is kava like?  I cannot tell a lie, I did not enjoy it much – it tastes like it looks, like gritty, muddy water.  And your mouth feels like you’ve just had the rinse the dentist gives you before a root canal.  Other than that, I don’t think I drank enough to feel the full effects . . .  However, I greatly appreciated the ritual and attention to welcoming visitors.  We could all stand to take the time to greet people expansively and properly.

Still more to come . . .

Sign up here if you’re interested in following this 2024 voyage to the South Pacific:

 

Tahiti, the Society Islands, French Polynesia (Post #7)

I am back in the 21st century, with access to speedy internet!  So, in the next few weeks I will be playing catch up and posting about Tahiti, Tonga and Fiji – all sites our Sparta artist Alfred Agate visited and memorialized on the US Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842, and all places that I too visited this July/August of 2024.

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Tahiti!!  I joined my ship, the Bark Europa, on July 3, 2024.  We were moored in the harbor of Papeete next to a small cruise ship and a couple of giant yachts.

Now, I know I posted these pictures of Eimeo/Moorea before (taken from Papeete), but I continue to be thrilled by this first view that I shared with Alfred Agate, over a 185 years apart:

In this post I’m going to give a brief history of Tahiti and include more images from Alfred Agate.

Volcanically formed about a million years ago (don’t you love stories that go back before humans arrived on the scene?) Tahiti actually consists of two major land masses – Tahiti Nui, where Papeete is located, and Tahiti Iti, a smaller but attached land mass to the south.  [Fun fact: The surfing competition of the 2024 Olympics took place off Teahupo’o, a beach located on Tahiti Iti.]

Fun tourist map the likes of which Alfred Agate couldn’t even imagine!

But Tahiti is just one of many islands that comprise the Society Islands (Mo’orea, Raiatea, Bora Bora, Taha’a and Huahine are some of the next biggest.) This island group was named by Captain James Cook, supposedly to honor the Royal Society who bankrolled his 1769 voyage of exploration.  Today, along with the Tuamotus, Marquesas, Gambier and Austral island groups, these archipelagos comprise what is today known as French Polynesia, one of the remaining overseas colonies of France. 

Current thinking is that Tahiti was first settled around 500 BCE.  Originating in what is today considered Southeast Asia (think Taiwan, Indonesia, Singapore) these proto-Polynesians were skilled sailors and navigators who island-hopped to Fiji, Samoa and Tonga in outrigger canoes that were up to 90 feet long and could transport people, animals and supplies.

Theirs was a complex society, a clan-based system with a hierarchy of chiefs and nobles and religious leaders. Their culture, language, art, ritual, dance and music would be disseminated throughout what is today considered Polynesia.  

Tumu-Ra’i-Fenua or the Grand Octopus of Prosperity.
This image represents the Polynesian method of navigational wayfinding. The octopus’ head, “Havai’i”, is centered on the island of Raiatea in what is today’s French Polynesia. (Tahiti is just to the east, near Tuamotu.)

It’s not clear exactly when Tahiti was first visited by Europeans or by whom – Spanish explorer Juan Fernandez might have been the first to land in the 1570s, but then some think it was a Portuguese explorer Pedro Fernandes de Queiros in 1606.  The historical record is also unclear about what happened next, until 1767 when British Captain Samuel Wallis in the HMS Dolphin, definitively landed in Matavai Bay in Tahiti and, using his guns, steel (and probably a few germs) forced the local Chief, Oberea, to, uh, cooperate with the British.

Ahem.

The next year, the French explorer Louis de Bougainville anchored his ships La Bordeuse and Etoile off Tahiti for about 10 days and was apparently favorably impressed with the welcome he received from the Tahitians.  (Paul Theroux, in his curmudgeonly book These Happy Isles of Oceania, tells a likely apocryphal story about this visit, when a “barebreasted Tahitian girl climbed from her canoe to a French ship under the hot-eyed gaze of 400 French sailors who had not seen any woman at all for over six months.  She stepped on the quarterdeck where she slipped the flimsy cloth pareu from her hips and stood utterly naked and smiling at the men.”  And thus the Edenic myth of Tahiti began.  Sigh.)

1769 was Captain James Cook’s first visit, in the HMS Endeavour, to observe the transit of Venus.  (He would return twice more in the 1770s.)

1787 is of course the year the infamous Captain William Bligh would dock his HMS Bounty at Point Venus and spend five months collecting breadfruit plants in an unsuccessful attempt to find cheap food with which to feed enslaved Caribbean sugarcane workers.  And yes, Mutiny on the Bounty was a real thing (though there are those who take great exception with this enduring portrayal of Bligh.  A gifted navigator, there was more to him than just all the floggings he ordered . . .)

By the end of the 18th century, whalers had expanded their hunts into the Southern Ocean and Tahiti was a popular stop for resupplying their ships.  The Tahitian people quickly learned how to trade with the Europeans, and a flourishing economy of weapons, iron, alcohol and prostitution was established.

In 1797, the first missionaries landed to convert the “heathens.” Today, most Tahitians identify as Christians.

When the US Exploring Expedition arrived in September 1839, Tahitian culture had been irrevocably changed.  For starters, the population is thought to have plummeted from an estimated 180,000 to about 8,000.  And by the time the USXX showed up, Christian missionaries had made their mark — nudity was banned, as were tattoos, dances and other rituals.  

Still, our Alfred Agate was able to create numerous images of Tahitians going about their daily lives.  And I was able to see another site from aboard ship that Alfred Agate had also seen and drawn from almost the same vantage point:


Tahitian girl with the hau, sketch by Alfred Agate, September 1839
From The Narrative of the US Exploring Expedition, volume 2

Today, you won’t see anyone wearing the hau, but you will find numerous crafts made with pandanus leaves in the same braided fashion:

The hat on the man below was likely woven from pandanus:

Tahitian man in his trading canoe, sketch by Alfred Agate, September 1839
From The Narrative of the US Exploring Expedition, volume 2

Now, below is an example of Alfred Agate’s artistry being deployed as a form of diplomacy. This is a portrait of Paofai, a chief and an advisor to Queen Pomare IV. Expedition leader Lt. Charles Wilkes wanted a meeting with Queen Pomare to present grievances from US sailing crews regarding their treatment in Tahiti. The Queen was due to give birth so was unable to meet, but sent Paofai as her emissary. Having Agate sketch a portrait of local leaders was a tactic Wilkes would employ on numerous occasions to encourage good feelings and cooperation:

Paofai, Tahitian chief. Sketch by Alfred Agate, September 1839
From The Narrative of the US Exploring Expedition, volume 2

And if you slog through volume 2 of Charles Wilkes’ Narrative of the US Exploring Expedition, you’ll read the following description of Paofai, which exemplifies Wilkes’ confusing interpretations and style of writing: “Paofai, a chief who holds the office of chief judge, and who is generally considered as the ablest and most clear-headed man in the nation, is accused of covetousness, and a propensity to intrigue.”

Finally, here are some more Agate images of daily Tahitian life from the Narrative . As you can see, for the most part the people are dressed in demure, European-style clothes.

Check back soon for Posts #8 and 9 and learn all about the realities of tall ship sailing, kava (a traditional intoxicant) and a Tongan umu (feast).

Some Boat talk (Post #6)

I’ve received a number of queries asking me to compare the Bark Europa, the ship I’ll be sailing on, to the ship that Alfred Agate was on for the US Exploring Expedition.

First, Alfred was on a total of three ships during the course of the US XX.  

He started on the USS Relief, a supply ship that was 109’ long with a 30’ beam. 

Commanded by Lt. Andrew K. Long, the Relief was not built for speed.  But then, it was meant to be a storeship, so what could you expect?  Still, her sluggishness infuriated Lt. Charles Wilkes and after berating Lt. Long mercilessly for months (as much as one could do from another ship with no radio), and after the ship was almost wrecked off Noir Island,  Wilkes sent the ship home from the port of Callao. (Fun fact that gets grosser in some accounts – when the Relief was fumigated in Callao, anywhere from 3 – 8 barrels of dead rats were unloaded from her hold.)

Here is Alfred Agate’s rendition of the USS Relief struggling off Noir Island in the Straits of Magellan, February 1839.
Courtesy of the Naval History and Heritage Command

 Alfred Agate and William Rich, the naturalist, are transferred to the USS Peacock at Callao.  

The USS Peacock was a sloop-of-war, 119’ (36m) long with a 32’ (10m) beam.  

USS Peacock drifting listlessly in Antarctic waters, c. 1839
This image was likely sketched by Lt. Wilkes and then cleaned up by Alfred Agate later as Agate did not embark on either Antarctic mission of the US XX.
Courtesy of the Smithsonian Institution

Lt. William Hudson was the very capable commander who eventually, as it seems did everyone, got on Wilkes’ bad side.  

Alfred was on the Peacock until it was wrecked on or about July 16, 1840 while trying to cross the bar into the Columbia River.  All hands were saved, but Alfred is said to have lost many illustrations on his escape from the sinking ship.

Wreck of the USS Peacock at the mouth of the Columbia River, c. 1840 by Alfred Agate
Courtesy of the Naval History and Heritage Command

From there, after some overland expeditions in southern Oregon and northern California (during which Alfred got so ill from “fever and ague” that he had to be transported to San Francisco for treatment.)  At this point, he was placed on the USS Vincennes, the flagship of the Expedition and the one under Lt. Charles Wilkes’ direct command.  

USS Vincennes in Disappointment Bay, attributed to Lt. Charles Wilkes, c. 1840
Courtesy of the Smithsonian Institution

The Vincennes, also a sloop-of-war, was 127’ (39m) with a beam of 34’ (11m).

In comparison to the three ships listed above, the Bark Europa is a three-masted steel barque,  131’ (40m) long with a beam of 25’ (7.5m).  And of course, unlike all the ships on the US Exploring Expedition, she is equipped with engines. However, unlike the Europa, the two sloops-of-war were equipped with numerous cannons of various sizes. These were used to frighten the various native peoples to “encourage” them to cooperate with the demands of the Americans and to retaliate against said natives when they did not.

The Bark Europa in full sail, c. 2007.
Courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

This is likely to be my last post for a while, as I am about to board the Europa in less than an hour. But I will post again!

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First Alfred Agate View! (Post #5)

First Alfred Agate View! (Post #5)

This is just a quick post to share an Alfred Agate illustration that has hardly changed at all in 184 years.

The USXX arrived in Tahiti in late September 1839, and Alfred Agate was on the USS Peacock, commanded by Captain William L. Hudson.

The four remaining ships of the Expedition were all together at this point and anchored in the bay of Papeete. Lt. Charles Wilkes was busy sending out surveying boats to map the coast of Tahiti and its smaller islands, take soundings of many of the bays, and make tidal and other observations.   [You’ll recall that the USXX departed Hampton Roads, Virginia with six ships in August of 1838. The USS Seagull was lost somewhere around Cape Horn, and Wilkes sent the USS Relief home from Orange Bay, Tierra del Fuego because it was slow and unwieldy, plus it was an opportunity to rid himself of crew members and scientifics he thought were difficult or threatening to his authority.]

In 1839, the island in Agate’s watercolor was called Eimeo.  Located about 10 miles northwest of the capital city of Papeete, Tahiti, today it is called Mo’orea and is about a 30-minute ferry ride away.

Mo’orea means “Yellow Lizard” in Tahitian. Now exactly why it used to be called Eimeo and when and why the name changed to Mo’orea is something I have not been able to discover. (My excuse is that the Internet here is slow and all the local people I have asked thus far assert that I am mistaken: “Oh no, we have always been Mo’orea” is the general reponse. But I will find this answer!)

Today, Mo’orea is considered a honeymoon paradise and one of the most beautiful islands in the South Pacific. About three years after the US XX left, France took over Tahiti and many of the other islands in the area. They’d fight several wars with the local people, taking over several other island chains in the 19th century. Today, this collection of islands chains is called French Polynesia, and is the last of France’s global empire.

Tahiti and Mo’orea are part of the so-called Society Islands archipelago. (I say so-called because they were named by Captain James Cook in 1769 when he visited here on his first voyage with the mission of recording the transit of Venus. It is said he named them after The Royal Society of London for Improving Natural Knowledge, the sponsor of that voyage.)

[Sidebar – I am continually amazed at the utter chutzpah of these European explorers who “discovered” places that clearly had people already living there and yet blithely renamed them after their sponsors, their wives, or the sailor who first sighted it.  Many of the islands in French Polynesia have several names, as they were named and renamed by the various Europeans who visited the islands. As if the people living there had no say in the matter! ] 

One more thing about these two images of Eimeo/Mo’orea — the fact that the outline of the island is so very accurate lends credence to the theory that both Alfred Agate and his fellow illustrator Joseph Drayton made use of the the Camera Lucida:

Some may feel that this was “cheating,” but when it is your job to be as quick and accurate as possible in less than optimal conditions, you’ve gotta do what you’ve gotta do.

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A Brief History of the US Exploring Expedition (Post #3)

A Brief History of the US Exploring Expedition (Post #3)

This is the third of the series documenting my Summer 2024 voyage to the South Pacific. See here for my previous post.

Today’s post will give a blog-length history of the US Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842 (aka the US XX).  However, if you really want an excellent, in-depth study, I highly recommend reading Nathaniel Philbrick’s Sea of Glory.  He does a magnificent job of synthesizing previous histories and making a corking good story of it all:

Known by numerous names – South Seas Surveying and Exploring Expedition, the US South Seas Exploring Expedition, the Charles Wilkes Expedition, it took over 10 years for this expedition to come to fruition.

Its inspiration is often laid at the feet of Captain John Cleves Symmes, Jr, a curious veteran of the War of 1812 (and nephew of a Revolutionary War Colonel of the same name).  Somehow, Symmes came to believe that the world was hollow and that the entrance to this undiscovered realm could be accessed through the South Pole.

I include John James Audubon’s rough sketch of Captain Symmes here only because Audubon is intimately connected to Ossining, having engaged our own Robert Havell to produce the engravings for his Birds of America in the 1820s & ‘30s.  And I love finding these connections!

In 1818, Symmes boldly mailed out 500 copies of his “Circular No. 1” in which he stated:

“I declare the earth is hollow, and habitable within; containing a number of solid concentrick spheres, one within the other, and that it is open at the poles 12 or 16 degrees; I pledge my life in support of this truth, and am ready to explore the hollow, if the world will support and aid me in the undertaking.”

This “Holes in the Poles” theory was not met with great enthusiasm, but it did attract some attention, perhaps most importantly that of New England merchants and whalers.  They loved the idea of an expedition that would explore the South Seas, possibly find them undiscovered whaling and sealing grounds, create accurate charts and maps of the area, and maybe even enter into treaties with the islanders.  Thanks to President John Quincy Adams, who believed that “The object of government is the improvement of the condition of those who are parties to the social compact,” Congress passed a resolution in 1828 to send a ship to the Southern Ocean.  Congress did not, however, appropriate any funds for it.

President John Quincy Adams by Mathew Brady, c. 1843

[Sidebar on President J. Q. Adams, a president that I only know as a whiny politician from the musical “Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson.”  He had remarkably big ideas and believed that America would be doomed to “perpetual inferiority” if she did not step up and contribute to the world of discovery and knowledge.  To that end, he tried to establish universities, museums and observatories.  An exploration of this magnitude fit in nicely with his worldview.]

Now, no doubt Adams’ desire to sponsor an expedition to the South Seas was also influenced by the fact that many of his Massachusetts friends included the aforementioned whalers and merchants.

But there was still such distrust in leaders and government left over from America’s colonial experiences that it was hard to get Congress to act on anything “frivolous” like science or exploration.  Adams was a one-term President and couldn’t get the US XX together before President Andrew Jackson took over.  And as we all know, Andrew Jackson was not at all interested in exploration (unless it was in the US and involved massacring indigenous people,) nor was he interested in education or broadening world knowledge.  However, by the end of his second term, Jackson started to think that such an ocean expedition seemed very cool and so got the US Navy involved and encouraged Congress to make it happen.

President Andrew Jackson by Ralph Eleaser Whiteside Earl c. 1835

However, it took New Yorker President Martin Van Buren to push it across the start.  But by the time things were falling in place for the USXX in the mid-1830s, there had been so much chaos surrounding the expedition, and so many commanders had come and gone, that no Navy man worth his grog wanted command of what began to be called the “Deplorable Expedition.”  

President Martin Van Buren by Mathew Brady, c. 1855

Enter Jr. Lt. Charles Wilkes to organize and command the expedition. (Note that Wilkes was a mere Lieutenant though in command of an expedition with six ships. Pretty unheard of in the world of the US Navy, but there was no one else willing to take on this command.  His lowly rank would become a great bone of contention for him, since most of the captains of his expedition’s six ships outranked him.  This, combined with his inflexible personality and inexperience as a leader would create numerous problems going forward. But more on this in another post.)

Admiral Charles Wilkes (he eventually got promoted!) Courtesy of the Smithsonian Institution

By the time the Expedition shoved off from Hampton Roads, VA on August 18, 1838 its price tag had swelled to over $300,000 (around $10 million in today’s dollars), an astonishing amount for the nation at the time.  

In a celebratory speech at the Expedition’s departure, Secretary of the Navy James Paulding would proclaim that the Expedition’s goal was “Not for conquest but for discovery.”

As a reminder, here’s a map of where the Expedition went:

The accomplishments of the Expedition are quite impressive:

  • Over 280 islands were surveyed
  • Over 180 charts created (some were still being used during WWII!)
  • Some 800 miles of Oregon coast and its interior were explored and mapped
  • Around 1500 miles of Antarctic coast were charted, and the USXX was the likely the first to discover that Antarctica was a separate land mass (there’s still some question on this point) but Charles Wilkes had this factoid chiseled onto his tombstone.
  • Contributed to the rise of science in America, the evolution of navigation, and the development of the fields of botany and anthropology
  • The 40-tons worth of plants, animals and artifacts collected becomes the core of the Smithsonian Museum.  See more on that here.

Just as a reminder of how large this expedition was, here are the details of six ships that originally comprised it:

Now, for an expedition whose purported purpose was “To extend the bounds of science and promote knowledge,” out of the 400-plus crew, only nine were considered “scientifics.”  And our Alfred was considered one of this nine.

These gentlemen were:

James Dwight Dana              Minerologist/geologist/Volcanologist/zoologist

Horatio Hale                           Philologist(precursor to Anthropologist)/linguist

Titian R. Peale                        Naturalist

Charles Pickering                   Naturalist/Doctor

William D. Brackenridge        Botanist/Horticulturalist

William Rich                           Botanist

Joseph Couthouy                   Conchologist (Study of molluscs)/linguist/paleontologist

Alfred T. Agate                        Artist

Joseph Drayton                       Artist

Many of them went on to important careers in their chosen fields, adding greatly to the store of knowledge on the natural world.  And, thanks to their US XX work, many new species of birds, plants and animals were discovered, collected and studied. Further, thanks to Alfred Agate, records of the unique cultural patterns of dress, tattoos and rituals of the different South Pacific Island nations was documented.

The perils facing the Expedition were great: there were few accurate charts or maps to navigate through the shoals and coral reefs of the islands.  The indigenous people were, for the most part, often and understandably hostile towards Europeans coming to their islands and demanding food, water and other supplies. There was no way to communicate between ships except by cannon, lights and flags, meaning that sometimes days or even weeks would go by before they resumed contact.  One ship, the Sea Gull, was lost at sea somewhere between Tierra Del Fuego and Valparaiso, Chile during the first year, never to be heard of again.  Another ship was wrecked and lost at the mouth of the Columbia River.  About 20 of the crew died during the four-year voyage from disease, injury or attacks.

But the Expedition accomplished its mission and put America on the world stage, though perhaps not as spectacularly as President Adams had hoped.

Stay tuned for more about Lt. Charles Wilkes, and stories about the Expedition’s encounters on Tahiti, Tonga and Fiji.

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Ossining and the US Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842 (Post #1)

Ossining and the US Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842 (Post #1)
The Bark Europa

Soon I shall be heading to sea on the above Dutch-registered, steel-hulled barque as voyage crew to follow in the footsteps of Ossining’s own Alfred Agate, best known as one of two illustrators for the US Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842 (USXX).

Wait, what?

“To sea”?  

“Voyage crew”?

“Alfred Agate”??

“US Exploring Expedition of 1838 – 1842”???

Oh yes, I hear all your questions.  So consider this the first of several blog posts detailing the life of  Alfred Agate, the US XX (aka the Largest All-Sail Exploring Expedition You’ve Never Heard Of), and my 21st century pilgrimage on a tall ship.

Today’s post will focus on Alfred Agate, Ossining artist and International Man of Illustration.

Now, truth to tell, I knew nothing about Alfred or his family until I stumbled into the bottom drawer of a filing cabinet at the Ossining Historical Society and learned about this surprisingly influential family of artists.

First, perhaps you’re familiar with this house that still stands at the corner of Hudson and Liberty Streets in the Sparta area of Ossining?

2 Liberty Street, Ossining
c. 2023

Built over 200 years ago by Thomas Agate, it is the grand home of one of the first English settlers in Sparta.   

[NOTE: much of the following information comes from a 1968 article written by Ossining historian Greta Cornell, Ancestry.com, and Phillip Field Horne’s A Land of Peace.]

Here’s some background: Alfred’s father, Thomas Agate, was born in Sussex, England c. 1775.  He came to Sparta in the 1790s with his siblings John, William, Ann & Mary.  In about 1795, the Agates purchased two lots of Sparta land from James Drowley’s estate via a Richard Hillier.   They were Baptist/Republicans who didn’t believe in the monarchy, so settling in the recently independent colonies must have been a no-brainer for these motivated Brits.  

Thomas seems to have been scrappy and ambitious, and according to Philip Horne, kept a “House of Entertainment” in Sparta until about 1811.  (Excellent term, no? Sounds like a strip club to me, although it was likely just a tavern.)  

In 1795, he married Hannah Stiles and would continue living and prospering in Sparta.  After leaving the “entertainment” business, he would run a store in Sparta, manage the Sparta dock, and buy and sell numerous parcels of land in the neighborhood.   When copper was discovered practically right under his house in 1820, Thomas Agate was one of the first to invest in the Westchester Copper Mine Company. Unsurprisingly, nearby Agate Street is named after the family, and the house pictured below was still in the family as late as 1960!

6 Agate Avenue
In 1959, home of descendant Melodia Agate Foster Wood

Thomas and Hannah would have at least 4 children:

Edward Priestley Agate: 

b. August 29, 1798

m. Mary Williams (7 children “all died young”), 

d. November 22, 1872

Frederick Stiles Agate: 

b. January 29, 1803

Never married

d. May 1, 1844 (buried in Sparta Cemetery)

Harriet Ann Agate Carmichael 

b. March 29, 1817

m. Thomas J. Carmichael c. 1835

d. January 12, 1871 (buried in Sparta Cemetery, though his headstone is currently missing)

Alfred Thomas Agate 

b. Feb. 14, 1812

m. Elizabeth Hill Kennedy, 1844

d. Jan. 5, 1845 (buried Mt. Olivet Cemetery, Washington DC)

But Frederick, Harriet and of course Alfred are the ones we are most interested in here.

Older brother Frederick was a precocious and artistic child who, at the age of 15 or so, was sent to study art in New York City with John Rubens Smith.  Frederick would then teach his siblings Alfred and Harriet the rudiments of oil painting and find them teachers at the National Academy of Design (which Frederick would help found in 1825 with his bosom friend Thomas Seir Cummings, and painter/telegraph inventor Samuel F.B. Morse.)

At the time, historical and portrait painting was a lucrative career – photographs of course did not yet exist, so painted portraits were the only way to capture a person’s likeness.

Alfred studied with Thomas Seir Cummings at the National Academy of Design (NAD), and by the age of 20 he was exhibiting his paintings at their annual exhibition.  By 25, he had his own studio at 25 Walker Street and churned out portraits – both oil paintings as well as miniatures.

Now, during this time, it’s entirely likely (though I have so far found no concrete evidence of it) that Frederick and Alfred met and socialized with Charles Wilkes, the man who would become the leader of the USXX.  Wilkes was a Navy man, a talented artist himself, and, most importantly, a skilled navigator, cartographer and surveyor.  It does seem that he took some drawing classes at the NAD during the late 1820s/early 1830s.  

This connection will become important when the US XX, an expedition that was about a decade in the making, starts to come together in the late 1830s. 

In late 1836 our Alfred is offered a position as illustrator for what was then called the “South Seas Surveying and Exploring Expedition.” Here’s his acceptance letter written to Secretary of the Navy Mahlon Dickerson:

Isn’t his handwriting gorgeous???
Courtesy of the National Archives

Now, as promised, I will expound on the development and purpose of said Expedition in a future post.  For now, let us concentrate on young Alfred.

Alfred Agate, c. 1838
Courtesy of the New-York Historical Society

It is believed that brother Frederick painted this portrait just before Alfred left for his voyage to points south.  And if you look closely, you can see some subtle iconography in the form of the red sketchbook under Alfred’s left arm and the boat anchors on his fetching gold buttons. Here they are in close up for your amusement:

On August 18, 1838 six ships set off from Norfolk, Virginia on what is often described as the world’s last all-sail exploration expedition:

Approximately 440 men served – 82 officers, 345 sailors, 7 naturalists/scientists and 2 illustrators.

Alfred shared the load with fellow illustrator Joseph Drayton and their importance to the expedition cannot be underestimated.  With no ability to photograph anything, it was up to these two artists to document as many plants, animals, landscapes, and people as possible.  (Knowing that the US XX sent back about 40 TONS of artifacts, it would have been an Herculean task to document it all.) To that end, to save time, the illustrators often used the Camera Lucida, an optical projection device that some say was developed in the 1600s, though it wasn’t patented until the early 1800s.

Alfred tended to do landscapes and portraits, while Drayton focused on botanical and animal illustrations

Sometimes they worked from sketches of others – many of the officers were passable artists themselves and would give sketches to the illustrators to work from.

During the course of the expedition, hundreds of sketches, watercolors, oils, and later, engravings were made.  Just a small number of these were published in the multi-volumed post-expedition Narrative of the USXX.

Sadly, some of Agate’s work was lost in the wreck of the Peacock in 1841, and in a later fire at the Philadelphia publisher’s plant, but there still are a large number extant.

Today, the Naval History and Heritage Command website has digitized and interpreted its significant collection of Alfred’s USXX illustrations.  Check it out here.

The route of the USXX is mind-boggling:

And our Alfred sketched wonderful portraits throughout — here are just two of many:

Alfred returned to New York on June 10, 1842, landing at the Brooklyn Navy Yard. After spending a week in quarantine, he likely came back to Ossining to recuperate at his parents’ home on Liberty Street. He was apparently unusually sickly on the expedition (at least, according to Charles Wilkes’ memorial to him). He regained enough strength to relocate to Washington, DC to finalize illustrations for the first volume or two of the Narrative of the US Exploring Expedition written by Charles Wilkes. He also married Elizabeth Hill Kennedy in October 1844. But, tragically, his life was cut short by tuberculosis, that scourge of the 19th century, and he died just a few months after his wedding.

He was fondly remembered by all who knew him, and Senator James A. Pearce of Maryland would honor him with the following words:

The delicacy and sensibility of the man seemed to characterize the produc­tions of his pencil. His drawings, which have been published, and those which remain to be published, show a truthfulness and harmony which stamp him as an artist of the highest order of talent.

RIP Alfred Agate.

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Or click here for the next post in the series on the Bark Europa.