Frederick Augustus Cobb

Charles' father, Frederick Augustus Cobb (1801 - 1848)

1801 - born in Portland, ME on July 26th.

1820 to ≥ 1833 - Lived in Boston, where he attended Harvard
(a member of the "Porcellian Club"), was a member of the local
library, owned lots of stock, married Helen Augusta Kane, and
had two children: Charles (1831) and Mary Wray Cobb (1833).
(Mary accompanied Charles and Lizzie to Europe).

≤ 1838 to 1848 - Lived in Schenectady, NY., where he donated
$5 to a church and apparently attended political conventions of
the Whig party! He died in Schenectady on August 2nd 1848
(aged 47), when Charles was 17.

It isn't clear where all of his money came from...or where it went for that matter!

Thanks to great-great-grandson-in-law Rich Allen and great-great-great granddaughter Becky James for digitizing the painting!

Charles Kane Cobb, timeline

A photo of Charles K. Cobb ca. 1861.

1831 - Born in Boston, MA.
1833 - Sister Mary Wray Cobb is born in Boston.
1830s - Family moves to Schenectady, NY.
1848 - Father, Frederick Augustus Cobb, dies in Schenectady.
1850 - Possibly boards at 7 Morton Pl., Boston (Charles Cobb, clerk).
1852 - Boards at "Winthrop House" in Boston.
1853 - Marries Elizabeth Codman.
1854 - Clerkship in a dry goods commission house.
1854 - Trip to Europe with wife Lizzie and sister Mary.
1855 - Son born in Schenectady, NY: Charles Kane Cobb, Jr.
1856 - Grandmother mentioned in journal (Maria Wray) dies.
1857 - Resides at 18 E. Brookline St., Boston.
1857 - Daughter born in Boston: Helen Kent Cobb.
1857-8 Works as a merchant at 53 Central Wharf.
1858 - Possibly boards at 4 Bulfinch Place (C.K. Cobb).
1858 - Mother, Helen Augusta Kane, dies in Boston.
1859 - Son born in Boston: Frederick Codman Cobb.
1860 - Appears in US Census as Boston resident, merchant.
1861 - Works at 22 Central Wharf, J.P. Hawes & Co., merchants.
1861-? - Lieutenant/adjutant in Civil War, stationed in Boston Harbor.
1862 - Absent from the Boston Directory. At war?
1864 - Daughter born in Boston: Elizabeth Codman Cobb.
1864 - Starts a bank and brokerage company.
1865-6 - Partners with Francis V. Parker becoming "Parker & Cobb."
1865 - Resides at 11 Brookline St.
1865 - Parker & Cobb located at "1 Phoenix Building" in Boston.
1868 - Parker & Cobb located at 8 Devonshire St.
1868-death - Resides at 11 Marlboro St.
1870-3 - Parker & Cobb located at 36 Devonshire St.
1872 - Parker & Cobb narrowly escapes the "great fire" of Nov 9.
1873 - Charles is a member of the Boston Stock and Exchange Board.
1873-6 - Parker & Cobb is located at 78 Devonshire St.
1876 - Dies in Boston, age 45. Bank becomes F.V. Parker & Co.


Advertisement from The Banker's Almanac, 1874.

sources:
Banker's Almanacs, 1872-1874.
Barron, C. W. and J. G. Martin. 1893. The Boston Stock Exchange.
Boston Directories 1849 to 1875.
Chandler, A. 1876. Secretary's Report, class of 1868, Harvard.
Greenough, Jones & Co. 1872. Boston Business Directory.
Parker, F. J. 1880. The story of the 32nd regiment Massachusetts...
Reno, C. 1900. Memoirs of the judiciary and the bar of New England...

Note: some dates and/or places may be wrong! (i.e., mistaken identities)

Elizabeth Codman

This is a photo/painting of Elizabeth Codman Cobb ("Lizzie"), wife of Charles, around 1900. She was born in 1826, which would make her about 75 in the painting and about 28 during the trip. Thanks to great-grandson-in-law Rich Allen for photographing it and to great-great-granddaughter Becky James for improving the image.

A photo of Charles?

"Whipple studio portrait of Lieutenant Charles K. Cobb, Adjutant of the 32nd Massachusetts Volunteer Regiment during the Civil War." (CORBIS)

This is a possible photo of the author (my great-great-grandfather) taken in Boston ca. 1861. He would have been about 30 years old - about 6 years after the trip with Lizzy, during which the mustache would have first sprouted (see entry of 30 August 1854).

A Charles K. Cobb was stationed at Fort Warren in Boston Harbor in 1861 (*)

Friday, September 15th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ At ten o’clock we arrived within sight of the first point of the Irish coast (Cape Clear) but it was nearly twelve before to my landsman’s eyes, it appeared a well defined land of hill and dale. The day is clear and we could plainly see the bold coast, looking like broken off sand banks descending into the water. We could scarcely realize that we were gazing on the Old World! We to whom it had been so long a dream, a many colored picture in the atlas, a story of the geographies and histories, its every foot of earth recalling some record of the olden time, while our native land was still a wilderness. And this is the country of our ancestors, from which they went out a little band to plant a mighty nation, destined perhaps to be the most powerful of modern times, as it is now the most enlightened. Alice, who is decidedly the most enthusiastic of the party, could not restrain her oh’s! of delight. With the day only closed our view of Ireland, a poor woman, of the steerage, died yesterday morning, of consumption, and just after dinner today she was consigned to the sea. The body was sewed up in its bed clothes, making a compact bale, not unlike a coffin in shape and size, shutted at one end, then placed on a plank which was balanced on the bulwarks, while Dr. Gallup read some prayers, the ceremony over, one end of the plank was raised, there was a dull splash, and the waves received their charge, only to be released when the sea shall give up her dead. It was a very solemn sight. The woman was a native of Ireland and was on her way to die there. Death came but a little too soon, her country was in sight, as she took her last journey. There is only a step between birth and death, a baby was born aboard yesterday. The mother is a single lady, who made the voyage for her health, she being troubled with “dropsy”. She was treated for that until yesterday when her dropsy was removed!! I wrote to Aunt Jane today giving a full account of our voyage.

Thursday, September 14th 1854 ~ At sea

Cape Clear - island off the southern tip of Ireland (photo: G. Feldman).

At sea ~ It is a very pleasant bright day, but I am still very much under the weather, indeed I feel so miserably that I do not at all regret the approaching land. I should have done so a week ago. At noon today we were only 130 miles from Cape Clear and we are all rejoicing immensely in the prospect. This afternoon was occupied in reading “Crilla” a ridiculous book, but it was all we were fit for.

Wednesday, September 13th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The weather is less squally, and sea not so high. I feel quite unwell today and mean to take calomel this evening. We are making splendid time just now. I went out with Dr. Spooner to the end of the bowspit today and had the pleasure of seeing the waters curl under the bows as the Chariot divided the waves. It is a beautiful sight, one seems to be removed from the vessel, and it is hard to get rid of the idea that in a moment more, she will be upon you in her rapid course.

Tuesday, September 12, 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ We had a severe blow again last night, which kept poor Captain Knowles on deck nearly all night. He has but two hours sleep, this morning the wind is not as high but the weather still unsettled. The ship rolled so as almost to preclude sleep during the night, and everything not fastened was thrown about with much noise, for an example, Dr. Spooner’s trunk slid out of his state room crossed the cabin and was found in Professor Treadwell’s room in the morning. It was impossible to keep in one’s birth and escape hard knocks, without holding on. Mrs. Ashenden was much frightened and made her appearance in the Captain’s room at one o’clock, just as he had “turned in” for an hour, to know “if he thought we should live out the night.” She reminded him, he says, at that moment of the ship, on account of the “scantiness of the upper rigging.” Altogether we had quite a funny time! In the evening I fell asleep on a sofa, and during a heavy lurch, found myself seated on the floor, with all laughing at my confusion. The ship creaks as if every plank was being slowly dissevered from every other. We are directly before the wind and therefore do not feel the sea, as we should, if we were facing it, or had it on the beam, still it is very hard to keep one’s place whether seated or standing, even with our present experience. The waves are now really magnificent and we enjoy above all things standing on the deck and looking up to them. We are often in a vale from which high hills of water rising on either hand bound our view, and them mounting a sea, we have a view as from a mast heads. We have seen several school of porpoises about the ship, springing out of water in their gamols around us. “Mother Cary’s Chickens” are following us constantly, and we see many gulls. Time passes very fast and French and readings do not prosper well.

Monday, September 11, 1854 ~ At sea

A Sea ~ We had a severe gale in the night, which kept Captain Knowles up until daylight, our great ship was tossed about like a bubble and I confess I had no idea of a blow at sea until I heard the roar of the wind through the rigging last night. I went on deck at nine o’clock, and then it was so dark I could not see my own hand before my face, and the wind was so high that I couldn’t stand on the deck without holding on to some stationary object – it was from the Westward and we ran before it under double reefed topsails. All the cabin passengers slept in their clothes last night. As the storm was commencing a poor fellow, one of the steerage passengers, was dropt into his watery tomb, he died at five in the afternoon, and about eight the body was sewed up in its bedclothes and thus consigned to the sea. He was a Catholic and had friends on board who would have no service performed. We in the cabin did not hear of the death until all was over. This morning the wind blew hard, but the waves were not particularly high, owing to its having changed in the night. This morning we ran 70 miles along side of a large ship, bound for Liverpool, our relative positions in that run only changing a quarter of a mile. She is still this evening as near us as ever. Professor Treadwell and the Captain have been marking her progress by the compass. Captain Knowles informs us that he never knew such close sailing before. Our cabin is veneered on all sides beautifully, but when there is much motion it is really hard to make one’s self heard there, the creaking of the wood is so great. In a palace this cabin would make a perfect gem of a boudoir, but here it seems to us decidedly out of place. The walls are veneered throughout with mahogany inlaid with (white) satin wood, and the ceiling is handsomely gilded. It is painful to contemplate the possibility of its becoming in a few years the resort of a merry whalemans crew. To what base uses do we come at last! Mrs. Treadwell, and other ladies of the passengers are laying about the cabin floor again on mattresses, reading etc., the rough weather makes them feel a little inclined to be sick again. And how miserably they look!

Sunday, September 10th 1854 ~ At sea

Wilson's storm petrel - aka a Mother Carry's Chicken
(photo by P. Coin)

At sea ~ The day opened pleasantly with but little wind and scarcely any sea. It is almost as balmy as last Sunday was. The ship has been followed for several days by Mother Carry’s chickens – they are beautiful little birds, about the size of the blackbird. Their color, I think is grey with white breasts, they fly close to the water, and are ever on the wing, sailing about and feeding from the surface. They seem to follow us for the sake of the rejected provisions that are constantly thrown overboard. In feeding they touch the water lightly with their feet, but keep themselves in the air as they pick up what they wish. They are quite tame and often fly within easy gun shot. I believe the sailors think these birds presage a storm. They must have wonderful power of wing, for they are met with in mid ocean and are never seen to light. We had prayers this morning by Dr. Gallup while I read a sermon. This afternoon a heavy wind is sprung up and Captain Knowles predicts a stormy night. It is a westerly wind, so that at all events it will be useful. A poor woman dying of consumption joined us at prayer time. She returns to the “old country” that her friends may close her eyes. How different are our feelings from hers, yet it is only a question of a few years, which goes first.

Saturday, September 9th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ Lizzie is quite unwell today, she has a bad headache and bilious attack. Alice is much better, after dinner she was able to leave her birth and go up on deck. Last night was very rough, but the wind just astern, and very high, so that we made at one time fourteen knots per hour. Capt. Knowles says he never made better time. The wind has been very strong all day and the sea much higher than we had before seen it, many of the waves swelling up as far as the top of the hurricane deck. I spent several hours looking over the stern at the hills and plains of water, they have today realized my idea of ocean waves. Everything not lashed is flying about the cabin floor. We made 260 miles from noon yesterday to noon today, and are now just halfway between Boston and Liverpool, having been out 14 days, could we proceed at this rate one week more would see us ashore. This afternoon we signalized a New York ship bound West and gave name.

Thursday, September 7th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ Just a year ago today Lizzie was taken with her brain fever at Saven Hill. To what a train of recollections does this lead! The Captain started us from our slumbers this morning, by knocking at our state room door, and asking if we wanted to see a ship of war! Of course Lizzie and I were drest (after a fashion) in a moment, and on deck, and there in plain sight were two French frigates just astern, and near enough to read our name. They were under full sail and bound West, with colors flying. They looked splendidly, very unlike in rig and general appearance to merchantmen, the masts were straighter, “taughter”, firmer, more raking, and the hull less crank. We ran up our flag and passed without hindrance, but our neighbor the ship New York was less lucky. She was about a mile on the other side of us, but as she was a new ship and a little tardy about showing her colors, the Frenchman determined to over haul her. By this time we were both well ahead, so one of the French frigates rounded to and gave chase. Her yards were alive with men to effect this maneuver, crowd all sail etc. It was indeed a most beautiful sight. A stern chase is always a long one and so it proved in this instance for it was only after three hours of close sailing that the Yankee was overtaken and boarded. We had preserved the same relative distance between the pursuer and the pursued, but now of course we left our competitor behind, the result of the examination was favorable and she was soon allowed to proceed. This was a highly exciting scene and one I suppose that rarely falls to the lot of mere land-lubbers - the breeze was strong and the American ship laid down to it until her hull seemed nearly out of water, while the frigate maintained a perpendicular position. Every short time after the chase began the second frigate was lost in the distance. Alice is ill today was taken with cramp last night and has not been able to bear her birth. This afternoon the weather became thick and we are once more alone on the ocean.

Tuesday, September 5th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The wind is again light and poor Captain Knowles sees but a small chance of returning to the bosom of his family for a long while to come, it seems to make him quite blue. He says Lizzie reminds him so much of his wife but the only point of resemblance I can make out is that they are both very short. All the ladies aboard are quite in love with the Captain, with his manly face and gentlemanly bearing. I believe by the way it is quite the style at present to take a tender interest in any captain under whom one crosses the Atlantic (at least for the fair sex). Captain Knowles has some easily seen faults. His habits of command make him peremptory and overbearing toward inferiors and all those over whom he has any kind of authority. We had a polka on deck last evening to the music of the Doctor’s flute. This morning we passed a Hamburg bark, bound West, and were almost near enough to speak her, not quite, but as we signalized, we are in hopes of being reported on her arrival in America. We exchanged longitudes with her. The thermometer stands at 64 today and has ranged from 62 to 70 thus far on the voyage. We have now been out nine and a half days and have only made about seven hundred miles of our course. We breakfast at eight bells, dine at four bells and take tea at four bells. The table is a little dizzy feeling consequent upon holding onto your chair, balancing your plate etc., to say nothing of seeing the movable sack of glasses swinging over one’s head, all this is slightly unpleasant and will always remain so to me. At Breakfast we have coffee and tea, white bread, rye bread, boiled rye, ship and soda biscuit, beef steak, broiled salmon, pickled salmon, etc. At Dinner fish, roast duck, potted pigeons, meat pie, roast beef, stewed tomatoes, green corn, potatoes in all forms, Carolina potatoes, rice, plum pudding, squash pie, gooseberry pie, watermelon, cantaloupe, prunes, figs, nuts and raisins. This was today's dinner and is a fair specimen of all. We have for tea, bread as at breakfast, herrings, cold tongue, smoked beef, stewed prunes, preserved ginger, and Mrs. Venton’s best cake, all provisions either in the ice house or in exhausted-air cases and it is wonderful how fresh everything tastes even the cake seems as if just baked.

Monday, September 4th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The Captain came down to breakfast this morning in fine spirits, his good honest features beaming with pleasure for the wind is fair! And we are running due East. We were much frightened last evening by the cry “man overboard” but it was scarcely an instant before he caught a rope and was safely drawn up. He fell from a loft, struck off by the flapping of a sail. We had a squall at dinner time that carried away a spar.

Sunday, September 3rd 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The morning is glorious, no wind and no sea of any consequence, the ship is scarcely making two knots per hour. This quite comes up to my idea of a Sabbath at sea, the stillness of the waters recalls the unwonted quiet of a New England village on the Lord’s day. The wide expanse enlarges and elevates our thoughts, while the balmy air inspires peace and content. Of course all are feeling well. We had service in the cabin at eleven o’clock. I read the service and Dr. Gallup the lessons, after which I read a sermon. We sat upon the deck until about 9 o’clock.

Saturday, September 2nd 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ We have been aboard just one week today, and it seems quite a little lifetime since we parted with our friends at home, but time will probably pass more quickly as we become more accustomed to this quiet life. It is perfectly monotonous but still time passes very quickly and we find but little leisure for reading. It is almost impossible to keep ones eyes from the heaving plain of water, always the same, yet ever changing. The winds have moderated and the clouds have broken away, but it still proceeds from the East and we are now again in the Gulf Stream. The sailors songs still strike us agreeably – there is considerable variety in the words, but it is difficult to catch them, perhaps that is just as well as many of them are indecent to refined ears. On the whole we think they sound much better at a distance. We are hoping that the sea will subside enough for public worship tomorrow.

Friday, September 1st 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ Our course is East South East, the breeze still comes from the same quarter and seems likely to remain adverse. We are feeling as if we should have a long passage. I do not dislike the idea at all. The day has been pleasant and we all passed it on deck. I felt quite unwell this afternoon and got Dr. Gallup to administer some soda flavored with ginger. He was a long time preparing it in his little cabin. The Dr. is a queer looking little man of Dutch extraction who has passed the greater part of his life in one of the West India islands, where I rather think he did not see much of life for he is somewhat unsophisticated in the ways of the world. He is however an accomplished man and quite a gentleman, he seems to have taken a lively interest in us and in providing for our physical comforts. This evening the wind has freshened into a gale and promises a stormy night, still the ocean has not realized my anticipations of grandeur as yet. The royals and top-gallants are taken in and a reef is put into each topsail. A good deal of water from a high breaker came over the bulwarks today although we are about fifteen feet above the sea.

Thursday, August 31st 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ The ship is somewhat less crank today and the wind more favorable. All the lady passengers made their appearance at the breakfast table for the first time this morning and it really seems like quite an event in our very quiet life. Mrs. Treadwell only came with a great effort that she might not be the last. She has passed the greater part of the day heretofore extended on a mattress on the cabin floor. After breakfast we had a game of shuffle-board on deck, where we remained reading, studying French etc. We were on deck also in the afternoon. All feel well enough now to enjoy the new life. Our time goes quickly, so much so that we read but little. It is an unfailing pleasure to watch the ever-changing swelling waters. It is still pleasant without over coats or shawls. We see large banks of seaweed every few moments. This afternoon a school of porpoises were playing about the ship, springing out of the water every few moments and then swimming so near the surface as to be distinctly seen in their rapid course - we are moving from ten to twelve knots per hour and yet they pass us as if we were standing still. A sail appeared and in the distance this afternoon. In the evening we sat upon the deck listening to the Doctor’s flute, and exercising our melodious voices in the Ave Maria, Home Sweet Home etc. At nine o’clock we descended to the cabin and had a game of “old-maid,” Alice much frightened but not hurt!! Prof. Treadwell today thought I would not dare to go aloft, there being no “lubber-holes” in the “tops”. I made the attempt and succeeded, when I returned he desired to put his hand on my wrist to see “how the pulse went.” Dr. Gallup reads French to us and has become in a measure our teacher. In the steerage are two poor women in the consumption who are returning to Ireland to die, our days are also numbered and be they shorter or longer they will pass like a dream in the night, or the shadow of a cloud, and the places that have known us shall know us no more forever and we shall be called upon to render an account to our Maker. Looking upon the vast expanse around us should teach us humility and our own littleness in the presence of Him who holds the ocean in the hollow of his hand.

Wednesday, August 30th 1854 ~ At sea

At sea ~ This morning the wind is somewhat better but we are still further in the gulf stream and have made with our numerous tacks North and South but a very few miles of Easting. I shaved this morning for the first time since leaving home and left the upper lip. Capt. Knowles thinks I was seized with “mal de mer” just in time to check operations on that member. Lizzie and the girls are much better today, even Alice seems to have partially recovered. The Capt. and Dr. carried mattresses up on deck for their use, on which they have been reclining all day, watching the ever undulating plain around us and basking in the warm sun. It is surprising how a few days of sea sickness preys on the damask cheek and bleaches even the sweetest rose. Our ladies appear as if they had passed through a dangerous illness, all sentiment is famished and listless content the greatest good aimed at for the present. The moon has made her appearance and we are looking forward to a succession of fine moon light nights.

Tuesday, August 29th, 1854 ~ At sea

Painting: "The Chariot of Fame crossing the Atlantic from Liverpool to Boston" by M.J. Whitehead.

At sea ~ Lizzie and the girls are somewhat better today although it is still rough and the tin cups that hang to our births are in requisition sometimes. Capt. Knowles is in despair for the wind comes from the old quarter and we are much out of our course. We have seen a whale in the distance, but as yet no other fish. Time is divided into watches and bells – there are six watches in the 24 hours of 4 hours each, beginning at noon, at half past twelve the steersman strikes one bell, at one o’clock he strikes two bells, at half past strikes three, at two he strikes four bells, at half past, five bells and so on until four o’clock when the number of bells reaches eight. Here the second watch comes on, and the sublimity of the ocean does not strike me as I supposed it would were I out at sea. I am disappointed in the heighth of the ocean waves, they seem higher when one is seated on the rocks at Sahant or the beach at Newport – perhaps it is that the land is an obstacle that shows to advantage their force. Our great vessel looks smaller contrasted only with this vast expanse of water – and the effect of the waves upon her have ceased to cause wonder.