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The Frozen Water Trade
     

The Frozen Water Trade

4.7 10
by Gavin Weightman
 

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The story of the 19th-century ice trade, in which ice from the lakes of New England – valued for its incredible purity – revolutionised domestic life around the world.In the days before artificial refrigeration, it was thought impossible to transport ice for long distances. But one man, Frederic Tudor, was convinced it could be done. This is the story of

Overview

The story of the 19th-century ice trade, in which ice from the lakes of New England – valued for its incredible purity – revolutionised domestic life around the world.In the days before artificial refrigeration, it was thought impossible to transport ice for long distances. But one man, Frederic Tudor, was convinced it could be done. This is the story of how, almost single-handedly, and in the face of near-universal mockery, he established a vast industry that would introduce the benefits of fresh ice to large parts of the globe.Thanks to Tudor, the American fashion for drinks ‘on the rocks’ spread to tropical areas such as the West Indies and British India. By the 1830s fleets of schooners carried the frozen cargo, packed with sawdust and tarpaulins for insulation, to all corners of the world. The harvesting of the ice from New England’s lakes employed thousands of men.The frozen water trade had a profound influence on the tastes of a large part of the world, but with the development of artificial cooling systems in the first quarter of the 20th century, the huge industry established by Frederic Tudor vanished as if it had never been.

Editorial Reviews

KLIATT
"We are without ice! The supply is used up. The little chilly building between the Supreme Court and the Scotch Kirk is denuded of its treasures. Dirty water and sawdust is all it contains...If there were any such thing as public spirit in Bombay we might hope for the adoption of measures to preserve us from the recurrence of the present evil..." Such a reaction, quoted in the Bombay Telegraph and Courier in July 1850, was precisely was Frederick Tudor had hoped for in the early years of the 19th century when he first got the idea to take an abundant and valueless resource of the Boston area winters and make it a highly valued and demanded commodity. His efforts were fraught with every disadvantage except sheer will power. It took until the 1840s for a general consensus to emerge that ice was a necessity, and a decade more for it to become a lucrative business. This book tells the personal story of Tudor in its entire entrepreneurial splendor, revealing the fascinating history of refrigeration in America and wherever ice traders could generate a market. Today we take refrigeration for granted, but imagine an ice famine caused by a warm winter, no way to cool the patient in an era when yellow fever and malaria were rampant, shipping hundreds of tons of ice to India where a demand was quickly established in the 1830s, and the logistics of harvesting and moving huge quantities of frozen water. Tudor and his associates eventually conquered the market and invented the implements and methods to simplify harvesting, storing and shipping their product. This is a great story of capitalism at work and a small part of history that greatly impacted the personal lives of all people in America.KLIATT Codes: SA—Recommended for senior high school students, advanced students, and adults. 2003, Hyperion, 254p. illus. index. map., Ages 15 to adult.
—Ann Hart

Product Details

ISBN-13:
9780007102860
Publisher:
HarperCollins UK
Publication date:
05/19/2016
Edition description:
New
Pages:
224
Sales rank:
950,794
Product dimensions:
5.00(w) x 7.90(h) x 0.80(d)

Read an Excerpt

The Frozen Water Trade

A True Story
By Gavin Weightman

Theia

Copyright © 2004 Gavin Weightman
All right reserved.

ISBN: 0786886404

Chapter One


The Frozen Assets
of New England

When the brothers William and Frederic Tudor agreed to put together what money they had in the summer of 1805 and invest it in a scheme to sell ice to the West Indies, they held the plan close to their chests. They had dreamed up the idea after spending some pleasant weeks on the family farm, Rockwood, near Boston. It was just a few miles inland from this city, the great port that seethed with shipping and merchants, many of whom had made fortunes trading around the world in all kinds of luxury goods. New England itself had little of value to export: there was no iron or coal or cotton, and the farmland was picturesque but poor. Most of Boston's trade was secondhand: the Yankee merchants had a sharp eye for other nations' goods, which they bought and sold as their ships scoured the world for bargains.

Just to the north, the port of Salem had more or less cornered the market in peppercorns, reexporting in 1805 7.5 million tons of the spice, which was greatly valued as a food preservative in the days before refrigeration. And in 1783, the year the younger Tudor brother Frederic was born, a syndicate of Boston merchants had made a fortune from a shipload of ginseng that they sold in Canton. The herbal root, rare in China, where it was greatly prized as an aphrodisiac and a tonic, had been found growing in abundance in North America, and the first Boston cargo was said to equal ten times the annual Chinese consumption. But even the shrewd merchants of Massachusetts had failed to realize that each winter a local product of dazzlingly high quality was left to dissolve away each spring, while in the tropical islands of the West Indies and the plantation states of southern America it would be worth its weight in gold. That, at any rate, was how the Tudor brothers saw it, and why they wanted to keep their scheme for selling ice in tropical climates a secret. Once Boston merchants got wind of their brilliant plan, they would face stiff competition.

The elder brother, William, who was twenty-six years old and a Harvard graduate with some worldly experience after traveling in Europe, was just a bit skeptical once he had considered the practical problems of the venture. But Frederic, not quite twenty-two and the maverick of the distinguished Boston family, was convinced it would make them a fortune, and that within a few years they would be, as he put it, "inevitably and unavoidably rich." As it turned out, Frederic did make his fortune selling ice, but there was nothing inevitable or unavoidable about his eventual success. The fact that he prospered at all, after suffering years of ridicule and hardship, was more of a miracle than something preordained. Then, as now, the notion that it was possible to cut lake ice in winter in New England and sell it the following summer 1,500 miles away in Cuba or Martinique, with no artificial refrigeration to prevent it from melting, was thought to be ridiculous.

Nevertheless, the plan did make some sense. The Tudor family was privileged. The brothers' grandfather Deacon Tudor was a self-made baker and merchant who had sailed from Devon, England, in 1715, at the age of six. His mother was a young widow who had remarried in America, well enough for John to receive a basic education. John did sufficiently well in business to send his youngest son, William, to Harvard to study law. He also bought the hundred-acre farm, Rockwood, as a kind of rugged country estate where the family could spend the hot summer months away from their town house in Boston. At Rockwood, like a few of the better-off Bostonians, the Tudors had an icehouse that was stocked in winter from a pond on the farm that usually froze solid in January and February. As children, Frederic and his brothers and sisters enjoyed ice cream in the summer and took their drinks cooled with chunks of crystal-clear ice from Rockwood Pond. This was a great luxury. In Europe, icehouses-traditionally underground and lined with brick or stone-had long been a privilege of the wealthy, who could afford to excavate them on their estates and had the manpower to fill them in winter with ice from their frozen ornamental lakes.

This luxury was denied to those who lived in tropical climates, including the colonial rulers of the West Indian islands and the prosperous plantation owners of the cotton belt in South Carolina, Georgia, and Louisiana. What would they pay for a shipload of perspiring New England ice during their most torrid season, when the heat was hardly bearable and yellow fever raged? Selling them ice, it seemed to Frederic Tudor, would be an excellent and simple proposition provided a few technicalities could be sorted out. It was a straightforward matter of supply and demand, once the problem had been solved of how to keep the supply from melting before it reached the demand.

The Tudor brothers were in the happy position of having a bit of family money to invest. In 1794, when Frederic was eleven, their grandfather John had died at the age of eighty-six, and had left everything to their father, William. This small fortune consisted of forty thousand dollars in cash and investments, some properties in Boston, and Rockwood. William was always known affectionately in the family as "the Judge," a title he had acquired when he served as judge advocate in George Washington's army. His Harvard education and his military service afforded him many good connections in New England society, where he was well liked for his jovial personality. Before 1794, he had practiced as a lawyer, but he felt he was well enough off after John died to give up work and live the life of a landed gentleman. The Judge was a generous man and a spendthrift, and the family lived well. He could afford to send his sons to Harvard and to give them a generous allowance that enabled them to travel, and sometimes to dabble in speculation.

In preparation for Harvard, Frederic was sent to Boston Latin School. At the age of thirteen, he decided that college was a waste of time, dropped out of school, and took a job as an apprentice in a Boston store. His mother, Delia, a cultured woman who was anxious that her sons be properly educated, did not approve. Nor did his eldest brother, William. But neither had any authority over him, and at the time Frederic left school, the Judge was off on a jaunt to Europe. Frederic wrote to him: "I hope you will not be displeased with my going so young." When the Judge returned to Boston, Frederic had already given up his apprenticeship and was spending his days on the Rockwood farm, hunting and fishing with a black servant of the family who had been given the name Sambo. Frederic loved Rockwood and sometimes imagined he could make the farm pay, but he spent most of his time on little schemes that came to nothing, such as designing a water pump that he believed would make ships unsinkable.

When he was seventeen years old and still hanging idly around Rockwood, an opportunity arose that would have an influence on Frederic's later conviction that there would be a demand for ice in the West Indies. His nineteen-year-old brother, John Henry, had a bad knee that had turned him into an invalid. Anxious about his son's health, the Judge suggested that Frederic take John away somewhere. The boys were enthusiastic, and chose to go to Havana, then a thriving trading port on the Spanish island of Cuba. It would not be just a convalescent trip: while they were there they might try their hand at trading in coffee or sugar-they had already made a small profit selling mahogany furniture to Havana. On February 26, 1801, they sailed from Boston on the Patty with $1,000 in travel money given to them by their father.

John Henry left a jaundiced account of the voyage. Both brothers were seasick for the first week or so, got sunburned, and hated the shipboard diet of beef and soup. They were at sea for a month, arriving in Havana at the end of March. At first they thought Cuba a kind of paradise, full of excitement and tropical fruit, and for two months they took tours, engaged in a little trade, and lost money. But by the end of May, as Havana heated up and the mosquitoes and scorpions became bothersome, they decided to leave. John Henry's knee was getting worse, and gave him pain every day. At the beginning of June, they bought passage on a ship bound for Charleston, South Carolina, loaded with molasses, which gave off a fierce and heavy stench. To ensure that they would eat tolerably well on this voyage, the brothers loaded up for their own consumption 192 eggs, which would be enough for half a dozen or more each a day.

In Charleston, they were entertained by some kindly Bostonians who were living there, but the heat was just as bad as in Havana. The brothers sailed on to Virginia, driven north by the rising summer temperatures, and, still with their "tongues hanging out," as John Henry put it, cruised into the Potomac River, where they had a glimpse of Mount Vernon, which had been George Washington's estate. In search of a cure for John Henry, they went on overland to a spa in Bath, Pennsylvania. Each day his health was deteriorating-he may have been suffering from bone tuberculosis-and lumps appeared on his side. In August, they met up by chance with their mother and eldest brother, William, and all four went to Philadelphia, from where Frederic and William took the stagecoach back to Boston. At the end of January 1802, John Henry died in Philadelphia, his mother by his bedside. When Frederic, back on the Rockwood estate, heard the news four months after he had last seen his brother, he was deeply affected.

Frederic's brother William, who had finished his studies, went off to Europe to broaden his education. The Judge found Frederic an unpaid position with a mercantile firm owned by his friends the Sullivan brothers. There he spent two years arranging shipments of pimento, nutmeg, sugar, and tea. With this experience behind him, the Judge felt confident enough to set Frederic up in business on his own, though he did not know what exactly he would trade in. The best bet at that time appeared to be speculation in real estate, for Boston was a growing city, and handsome profits had been made by those who owned land that could be built on. The Judge himself decided to put the family fortune into a venture in South Boston that was considered to be gilt-edged. A new bridge was being built to connect the town with an isolated area of land in the complex archipelago of Boston Bay. Frederic had a stake in it too, buying land for $7,640 in partnership with his brother William.

While they still mourned the death of John Henry, the family was able to look forward to a happy event, the marriage of Frederic's younger sister Emma Jane. She was by all accounts an attractive young woman, and her family's wealth appeared to be assured. Her suitor was a shy young man named Robert Hallowell Gardiner, who had come into a fortune by chance. His father, Robert Hallowell, had been collector of taxes for the port of Boston before the War of Independence, and had fled to England in 1776. Robert was born in Bristol in 1782, and his family moved back to Boston the same year. When he was six years old, his maternal grandfather, Dr. Silvester Gardiner, who owned a very large estate on the Kennebec River, in Maine, died, leaving everything to Robert's uncle William. A year later, William died and left everything to Robert, provided he agreed to change his name to Gardiner. He would come into his inheritance on his twenty-second birthday.

Robert had studied at Harvard, and when he first met Emma Tudor, he was a member of the New England elite, a very eligible young man. His marriage to Emma was a great match for the Tudors, and would turn out to be vital for the new trade Frederic and William were about to embark upon. Though they fell out in later life, Robert Gardiner would be the very best friend and supporter Frederic could have hoped for in the years ahead. It was in the heady atmosphere of the summer of 1805, when the wedding was celebrated with picnics and parties on the Tudors' Rockwood estate, that Frederic and William finally decided to embark on the venture they had talked about for some time.

Emma had married Robert on June 25, 1805. A few weeks later, Frederic bought a leather-bound farmer's almanac and inscribed on the cover the title "Ice House Diary," above a crude drawing of the kind of icehouse, if not the very one, the family had at Rockwood. He also wrote the inscription "He who gives back at the first repulse and without striking the second blow, despairs of success, has never been, is not, and never will be, a hero in love, war or business." It is probable he added that later, inscribing it as if in stone on the illustration of the icehouse, for he had absolutely no idea in 1805 of the trials he was to face over the next ten years.

The first entry in the diary, written in Frederic's spidery hand, reads: "Plan etc for transporting Ice to Tropical Climates. Boston Augst 1st 1805 William and myself have this day determined to get together what property we have and embark in the undertaking of carrying ice to the West Indies the ensuing winter." There is a note written later to the effect that William was not very enthusiastic, and had to be persuaded that it was worth giving the venture a try.

A Tudor family legend had it that it was, in the first place, William's idea. It would have been typical of him, as he was full of hare-brained schemes that came to nothing, and in his privately published autobiography, Early Recollections, Robert Gardiner remembered William, at a picnic, suggesting selling ice to the West Indies. To the end of his life, Frederic disputed this, and maintained that it was his inspiration. Whatever the truth of the matter, it was without doubt Frederic who took the idea seriously, and who dedicated his life to making it work.

The second entry in the diary is for August 12. Frederic writes that he is off on a trip with his cousin James Savage to visit Niagara Falls, and expects to return in October. In the meantime, he and William had been laying plans for the shipment of ice that winter. They had realized they would need substantial financial backing, and hoped they might be able to persuade the U.S. Congress to grant them a monopoly in the trade, for once everyone in Boston saw how profitable the shipping of ice was, there would be immediate and damaging competition.

Puffed up with youthful enthusiasm and naoveti, Frederic could not imagine that such a brilliant scheme could fail to make him and his brother a fortune. His excitement leaps from the pages of his diary as he drafts a letter to a business associate of his father, Harrison Gray Otis, a distinguished Bostonian and U.S.

Continues...


Excerpted from The Frozen Water Trade by Gavin Weightman Copyright © 2004 by Gavin Weightman. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

Meet the Author

Gavin Weightman is an experienced television documentary-maker (producer/director/writer), journalist and author of many books such as The Making of Modern London: 1815–1914, The Making of Modern London: 1914–1939, London River, Picture Post Britain and Rescue: A History of the British Emergency Services (Boxtree).

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The Frozen Water Trade 4.7 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 10 reviews.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Having grown up in Cambridge and not knowing the Ice harvesting history of Fresh Pond, this book was an eye opener.

Frederic Tudor was a determined man, never giving up over the ten year period it took his ice harvesting business to make money.

Insight into the rest of his family and friends who invested, and those who scoffed at his "crazy idea" of selling ice. Makes you wonder what life must have been like without ice.

Sheds light on debtor's prison, and the business practices of the 1800's.

Lots of nuggets about the area such as: Thoreau's reaction to ice harvesting Walden Pond, Nantasket Beach, Maine, the invention of ice harvesting tools, Fresh Pond Hotel.

Kudos to Gavin Weightman, a Brit who took interest in a little know piece of Boston history!
Theodore Kloba More than 1 year ago
A compelling portrait of an entire industry about whose existence, I had only a vague knowledge. It's amazing how natural ice harvesting, storage and shipping trade affected global culture despite the near total disappearance of its artifacts.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
&ster!!!!!&hearts!!!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Gender is female... Age is unknown, but over 18 moons... Appearance is night black with an upside down white flame pattern over her left eye. Her eyes are gray, but turn magenta when she is happy... History is that her old clan, Lost Clan, (settled near Thrushclan. Lost Clan is "cats cradle" res. One) was dispanded due to a twoleg invasion. The ones left were those lucky enough to flee or to have been protected by the leader. She was the leader. She once was a white cat, but sacrificed herself to a fire to save the rest of the clan, mainly a kit, named Lilykit. (now Lilypaw) She was found by the borders of every clan she is in now, suffering cuts and scrapes by the foxes that chase her... Statuses; She has no mates/ kits/ crushes. Her hunting buddy is Alder. ( different book ) ...Other; She can be very nice and gentle, but even the tiniest insult will flip the kill switch on. So no, she cant take a joke. If you have anymore questions, just ask.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name: dryfoot Gender: female Looks: ginger tabby with dusty gray paws; very attractive Kits: none Mate: none Kin: none I havd been looking for the right clan to join. This is my first rp and i am only avalable at night.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Name**look up numbskull**Gender**female**Fur&Eyes**white fur very attractive black muzzle and icy blue eyes**Personality**when provoked very fiesty and when you provoke a fight, she wont back down**Parents**unknown/dead**Littermates**unknown/dead**History**Crystalmoon was found as a kit. She wa found at the edge of Streamclan teritory. Parents are unknown or dead. Birth clan is unknown. Littermates are unknown or dead. Possibly didn't hav littermates. Needs a friend to talk to. Crystalmoon wont back down from a fight because cats taunt her about he parents alot. So she is used to having to fight.
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
#Godmodders!!!!!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
CAMP IS ALSO RES 4!
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
Can we join?
Anonymous More than 1 year ago
He padded in, an curled up immediantly in his nest.