VOL. VI. AUGUST, 1873. NANTUCKET. No. 4. IT sometimes happens to a town built upon the banks of the Mississippi, in consequence of a sudden alteration in the course of the river, to be unexpected ly cut off from the waters upon which its prosperity depended, and to be transformed into an inland settlement with useless wharves and warehouses. What the crevasse does in the case of the unfortunate Western town has been accomplished for the renowned whaling port of Nantucket by the freaks of commerce. Let no traveler visit it with the expectation of witnessing the marks of a flourishing trade, as its entering citizens pursued be varic of whale abounded in the neighborhood of our Atlantic coasts, or even after those monsters of the deep had been driven into the distant Pacific. Of the great fleet of ships which dotted every sea, scarcely a vestige remains. Two vessels were indeed still abroad at the time of our visit, but they had met with poor success, and were more likely to be sold than to return with cargoes of the precious oil. The solitary brig "Amy" lay rotting at the wharf, waiting for some purchaser to take her away and turn her to some more profitable use. But if Nantucket has.few attractions to offer such as arise from present prosperity, there is scarcely a seaboard town in America so quaint and so interesting on account of the reminiscences of the past which one constantly meets in every ramble. If the reader will cast his eye upon any good map of the Eastern States, he will discover a group of islands of various forms and זין A NANTUCKET FROLIC. -when about to die, allowed his three daughters to choose for themselves among his possessions. The eldest, Elizabeth, for some not very evident reason, fixed her preference upon the islands, which accordingly took her name. Sensible Martha had the next choice, and did not hesitate to appropriate the "Vineyard." Alas! for poor Nancy, the youngest, nothing remained but a desolate heap of sand scarce rising above the ocean's waves. But necessity knows no laws, and so 66 Nan tuk it." It is a pity to spoil so good a story, in whose accuracy many an islander implicitly believes, but it is reasonably certain that Nantucket was an old Indian name, while Martha's Vineyard (called by the Indians Capawock) and the Elizabeth Islands, each of which still retains the aboriginal name, received their present appellations from the discoverer, Captain Bartholomew Gosnold, who, in 1602, made upon one of the latter the first attempt at colonization in New England. Good Queen Bess was certainly intended to be honored in the designation of the smaller group. What fancy led Gosnold in naming the largest island is un sizes lying off the southern shore of Massachusetts. First and nearest the mainland, a chain of small islands, jutting out from the south-western corner of the peninsula of Cape Cod, helps to inclose the sheet of water known by the ill-chosen name of Buzzard's Bay. These are the Elizabeth Islands. Further to the south-east, and a little more distant from the continent, is the somewhat triangularly shaped Martha's Vineyard, with its off-lying islet, No-Man's Land. Still further in the Ocean, and just south of the hooked projection of Cape Cod, lies Nantucket, with three or four smaller islands no less singular in the names they have received. Indeed, so puzzling is the origin of the appellations of the larger members of the group themselves, that the inhabitants have been driven to a fanciful derivation which can scarcely be admitted to the honors of undoubted history. A father-so the story runs certain, and it is worthy of note that for years the name fluctuated between Martha's and Martin's Vineyard. The island of Nantucket is a crescent, of which the two horns project far to the north and north-west. The town of Nantucket lies on the inner face of the crescent, protected from the violence of the ocean's waves by these two great natural breakwaters. The sole communication with the mainland is by the good steamer Island Home, in which we not long since left the little station of Hyannis, on the Cape Cod Railroad. The sail of about thirty miles consumed a little more than two hours, and a part of the time we were almost out of sight of land. At last from this port, the custom was to relieve the heavily laden ships on their return outside of the bar by means of lighters, or when stormy weather interfered with the operation they were compelled to take refuge in the haven of Edgartown, on Martha's Vineyard. A few years before the necessity for such a relief was obviated by the total decay of commerce, an ingenious contrivance was introduced. The camels, as they were called, were two immense caissons which were placed on either side of the whaler, with three great iron chains passing under its hull. From these caissons the water was then pumped until the vessel rose sufficiently out of water to escape the bottom of the bar. Nothing remained but to tow the whaler into the harbor. the white spires of the town began to show themselves on the horizon, while the great projections on the right and left, like gigan- Once successfully over, our steamer began tic arms, seemed to extend to take us into slowly to thread the narrow channel, and the embrace of that hospitality for which the finally, rounding the lighthouse on Brant island is justly famous. Gradually the Point, drew up at one of the four or five houses, rising one above another, came dis- wharves upon which the active commerce of tinctly in view. It was, however, no easy the place once displayed itself. A goodly matter to enter port; for the difficulties of part of the population was awaiting our arrithe sailor increase as he approaches. A bar val; for the advent of the steamer with the of sand stretches completely across the en- passengers and mails from the mainland is trance, which the ingenuity of man has been the most exciting event that disturbs the taxed in vain to remove. The tides in a few monotony of the daily routine of existence. days fill up any excavations which may be As varied as was the assemblage about us made, and a vessel drawing over nine feet were the carriages that stood ready for the can enter only at rare intervals. When reception of any stray passenger. There whalers were fitted out in large numbers was the unavoidable hack, of course, to ac commodate the fashionable visitor and carry him to one or the other of the hotels; and a few carry-alls of foreign construction. But the But the majority of the vehicles were those peculiar wagons which the old-fashioned Nantucketer clings to with fond affection and styles his carts. The more modern cart has four wheels, and resembles nothing more than it does an ordinary coal-wagon. As the high sides, made to protect the feet effectually from the winter winds which sweep with terrific force across the level plains, make it difficult to clamber in between the closelyset wheels, the step is placed behind, and one must pass over the seats to his place. The genuine cart is different, for it has but two wheels, and is altogether destitute of permanent seats. If the whole family ride, each member, instead of standing, will be provided with a wooden chair taken from the kitchen. We can bear witness, after trial, that this mode of riding-"barring," that is to say, the danger of a sudden tipping back of the chair from some sudden jolt-is not unpleasant. It is in these "jaunting-cars" that the natives of Nantucket are particularly fond of indulging in their country frolics. Indeed, the young gallants are said to like nothing better than to collect in the cart a goodly number of their female acquaintance, and then, having reached some convenient spot, slyly unfasten the hooks that retain the THE TOWN-CRIER. body of the cart in its horizontal position, and suffer their screaming companions to slide out upon the soft sand. If the crescent-like island is unique in shape, the appearance of the town itself is not less singular. The houses, especially in the southern part, rise one above the other, somewhat after the fashion of Quebec. The shingled sides and small-paned windows are sufficient marks of their age. Crowded together, with little room between and none in front, they testify to the social tastes of their original builders, and to the fact that those ancient residents cared little for the bit of green grass, or the patch of gay flowering plants, which elsewhere lend a peculiar grace even to the cottage of the lowly. Nearness to one's neighbor, far from being a drawback, was evidently regarded as an advantage. When the husbands and fathers were far off on the ocean, on cruises that occupied many months or even years, the wives and daughters were glad that their homes were huddled together in one corner of the island, instead of being scattered over its entire extent. The most palpable relic of the time of the whale-fishery, however, is found in the many "walks," as they are styled, which are even yet preserved. Of old no whalefisherman thought of inhabiting a house from whose roof he could not obtain an easy and pleasant outlook upon the harbor, or at least gather some idea of the prospects of the weather, and the probable return of the sailing craft of the place. Much more than the half of the walks have been taken down as useless; but from a single point we have counted thirty in sight. The platform is small or large, built around a single chimney and barely accommodating two or three persons at a time, or running the entire length of the roof, and with room for the whole family to congregate on a pleasant evening; and the balustrade surrounding it is as plain or as ornamental as the taste or means of the occupant may have dictated. Whatever the pretensions of the house, however, upon it or upon some adjoining barn, the seafaring taste of the former occupants is likely to be visible in a vane, which, instead of taking the form of a weathercock, is rudely shaped to represent a whale or other monster of the deep. There are other reminders of the olden time not less odd than the external appearance of the houses. We were scarcely comfortably domiciled before our ears were greeted with the jingling of a bell in the street, and the voice of the town-crier was heard. Nantucket can, it is true, boast of a weekly journal with its columns of advertisements, but these reach few persons compared with those intrusted to the town-crier. Two or three times a day he perambulates the streets, each time with one or more new announcements. It would be a vain attempt to represent on paper his tremulous inflections of voice. For the town-crier is an "institution," and whether he cries a "Concert in the Church" or a "meat auction," his singularly comical tones command instant attention. There are those indeed who will have it that this notable character is not altogether of sound mind, alleging in proof the circumstance that, having enlisted for a bounty during the late war, he soon reappeared as a civilian, and could give no better reason for his speedy return than that he had been discharged "because they said that he was 'noncompous,' or something of the kind;" -an allegation in no wise credible, in view of the apt retorts he has been known to make. For instance, to a somewhat forward young lady, who from the steps of a boarding-house inquired of him where he had obtained the bell he was ringing, he instantly rejoined: "From the same foundry, ma'am, where you got your brass." Ascending the tower of one of the churches, we find that from this elevated situation we can obtain a commanding view not only of the town, but of nearly the entire island. Almost at our feet the harbor is stretched out, with its deserted wharves and warehouses. Directly opposite Brant Point, and leaving a gap of little over half a milethe passage through which we entered portwe see the long and narrow peninsula that still bears its old Indian name of Coatue. Sheltered by this tongue of land there is a broad bay reaching five miles or more, a placid sheet of water, which is the favorite sailingground for pleasure-parties, and upon whose shores are held squantums, or picnics, that constitute the chief diversion of the islanders in the pleasant season of the year. And here we may as well say that Nantucket, besides retaining aboriginal appellations for almost all her districts, capes and ponds, has admitted a number of words from the same source into her spoken vocabulary, of which the squantum may serve as the type. In fact, the inhabitants, proud of their barren island, and by no means ashamed of any dialectic peculiarities, were accustomed, a few years ago-and probably the usage is not yet quite extinct-to designate all the inhabitants of the mainland, but more particularly their dangerous rivals, the fishermen of Cape Cod, by the somewhat opprobrious name of Coufs, which was, we presume, a part of their inheritance from the savages who for so many years lived upon the island with them. A short distance from the town the eye takes in the principal bathing-ground, whose |