John (Cap) Spinney

• General Notes
  • Excerpt from Rambles about Portsmouth:
    
    We all knew Cap Spinney many years, and time and again witnessed his arrival and departures from the spring market. He was portly in person, upright in posture, of dark skin, long beard and was invariable clad in petticoat trwoers and a pea jacket so covered with patches of every color that it was a matter of dought what was the original - a blue knit cap was drawn close to his head, and red cdging and ear pieces turned up around. His attention to this cap gave him the above designated name. He was a man of system and independence, and his routine for business was strictly adhered to. He would leave his home at Eliot at any hour between midnight and day-light, that the tide served, and alone in his canoe proceed to the mouth of the river. When the tide required him to leave before he had done up his sleep, on reaching the fishing ground he would bait his hooks, giving on turn of his line abound the tholepins and then another turn around his wrist, compose himself to sleep. When the fish bit, the check at the thole-pin would secure it, and the slight pull at the wrist would notify him to take it in. He would then rebait, redrink, and continue his nap, and in due time he might be seen coming up the river and rowing into the Market Landing to the calls "Have you any fish" the reply would be made. As soon as his painter was fastened, he would rise his cuddy cover, take out his coconut shell, visit a particular shop near the market, get it filled with "O-be-joy-ful" then return to his boat, take his seat, raise his coconut to his mouth and take two or three swigs, resting between each with a smack of his lips - then depositing it safely in the cuddy, he uncovered his fish and give notice "Now gentlemen, I am ready for business". By the time his fish were sold, shell would need replenishing, and then with another swig he would push off into the stream, and his boat preceed almost intuitively to his home. Thus year after year through the smae routine, until 1832, on the 4th day of July - a day which he regarded as worth a particular observance in this way, his boat struck against Portsmouth bridge, and at the age of 73 he closed his life in the river in which he had almost lived for three score and ten year. He left about fifteen hundred dollars as a results of his labor, and the reputation of a friendly disposition to men and beast, as well as to his coconut shell. His like we have never since looked upon.