JH 
 
 HI 
 
 Pigeon Cove and Vicinity 
 
^LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. # 
 
 #|M? MU 1» * 
 
 \ JMe/f ,EjLS $ 
 
 $ —4 # 
 
 I UNITED STATES OP AMERICA. J 
 
BABSON AVENUE. 
 
Pigeon Cove 
 
 AND 
 
 Vicinity. 
 
 BY 
 
 HENRY C. LEONARD. 
 
 BOSTON: 
 PUBLISHED BY F. A. SKARLE, 
 nS Washington Strj i 
 
 1373- 
 

 Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1873, by 
 
 H. C. LEONARD, 
 
 In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington. 
 
 t 
 
 ; 
 
 V 
 
 Cambridge: 
 press of john wilson and son. 
 
The author makes acknowledgment of indebtedness 
 to John J.Babson's "History of Gloucester" for pas- 
 sages of Local history; to the "Encyclopaedia Ameri- 
 cana" for the extract from its sketch of Capt. John 
 Smith; to "Youngs Chronicles" for u Anthony Thatch- 
 er's Narrative," and a few quotations from relations 
 of other writers ; and to the " Atlantic Monthly " and 
 several volumes of the poets from Osgood A: Co.'s pub- 
 lications for much valuable matter. II-' also renders 
 thanks to Ebi \ bzbb I'ool, of Rockport, for the help of 
 interesting records, ami for the aid of other neighbors, 
 
 whose names are given in connection with their con- 
 tributions. Moreover, lie would add that he is con- 
 fident that the artist, Thomas Lee Bi lson, of Albany, 
 N.Y^and the engraver, John Andrew, of Boston, will 
 have the praise which is their due for fittingly adorn- 
 ing these beautifully printed pages, 
 
C O N T E N T S. 
 
 — ♦ — 
 
 Topography of Cafe Ann 1 
 
 Captain .J<>h\ Smith, the Discoverer 'J 
 
 Ancient Trees 15 
 
 Origin of the Name Cape Ann 17 
 
 Sandy Bat 18 
 
 First Si [tlers op Sandy Bat 10 
 
 First Settlers op Pigeon Cove 'J<> 
 
 Ancient I [odses L'l 
 
 The Gate 23 
 
 Events op mi; Revolutionary War 24 
 
 Apteb ihi; Revolutionary \\'\k 28 
 
 Pigeon < Iovb II irbob 29 
 
 Shore from Skv 30 
 
 Events of im: Last War nun England 32 
 
 Sea prom Shore 86 
 
 First Scmmi b Visitors 40 
 
 The First Pigeom Cove Bouse 4t 
 
 The Ni.w Pigeon Cove House 4f) 
 
 The Ocean View House 47 
 
 The Wat to Pigeon Cove: Railroad 48 
 
 The Old Stage and Carriage Road 60 
 
 Walk- \m> RAMBLES 65 
 
Vlll CONTENTS. 
 
 Carriage-rides, Legends and Ballads 69 
 
 Ride to Little Good Harbor Beach and Eastern 
 
 Point 84 
 
 Ride to Rafe's Chasm and Norman's Woe 85 
 
 Ride to Annisquam 92 
 
 Ride to Pebble Stone Beach and Long Beach . . . 100 
 
 Fishing and Yachting 104 
 
 By Yacht to Annisquam, Gloucester, Grape Island, 
 
 Newburyport 106 
 
 The Sail to the Isles op Shoals 107 
 
 The Sail to Straitsmouth and Thatcher's Islands . 114 
 
 Bathing and Swimming 135 
 
 Trees and Flowers of Cape Ann 140 
 
 Animals and Birds of Cape Ann 157 
 
 Minerals of Cape Ann 176 
 
 Chalybeate Mineral Water 179 
 
 Sea-Animals, Sea- Weeds, and Sea-Mosses 180 
 
 The Conclusion 191 
 
I'KiEON COVE AND VICINITY 
 
 TOPOGRAPHY OF CAPE ANN. 
 
 VILLAGE. 
 
 r*HE promontory called Cape Ann is the wall 
 between Massachusetts Bay and Ipswich 
 Bay. The old common road, extending from Sa- 
 lem, north-eastwardly along the south shore of the 
 Cape, through Beverly, Pride's Crossing, Beverly 
 Farms, W< 31 Manchester, Manchester, Magnolia, 
 Gloucester Wesl Parish, and Gloucester Harbor, to 
 
2 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Rockport, the terminal town, is sixteen miles. 
 The road parallel with the north shore of the 
 Cape, extending from Essex or the Chebacco River 
 to the mouth of Squam River, and from Annis- 
 quam Village, on the opposite side of the river, 
 through Bay View, Lanesville, and Folly Cove, to 
 Pigeon Cove, the north village of Rockport, is 
 nine miles. Gloucester, including Magnolia, the 
 West Parish, Riverdale, Annisquam, Bay View, 
 Lanesville, and Folly Cove, is the principal Cape 
 town. It is bounded by Manchester and Essex on 
 the west, by Ipswich Bay on the north, Rockport 
 on the east, and Massachusetts Bay on the south. 
 Rockport, including Pigeon Cove, being at the end 
 of the Cape, except on the west is sea-girt. 
 Squam River, mainly an inlet from Ipswich Bay, 
 with its many branches and coves, and the addi- 
 tion of a short canal on the Massachusetts Bay 
 side, known as the Cut, separates from Magnolia 
 and the West Parish all the rest of the Cape. So 
 the more populous villages of Gloucester, and 
 together with these the villages of Rockport and 
 Pigeon Cove, have their seats on an island. They 
 are reached from the main land by crossing the 
 railway bridge in the cars, and the bridge span- 
 ning the Cut, in the ordinary ways of journeying. 
 
 The general aspect of the Cape is rugged. West 
 of Squam River, granite hills and ledges occupy 
 the entire territory. Many of the elevations of 
 Magnolia and the West Parish are craggy and 
 
TOPOGRAPHY OF CAPE ANN. 3 
 
 bald, but a large portion of them are covered with 
 forest. Tompson's Mountain is the highest eleva- 
 tion of the Cape. Climbing to its dome-like top 
 on a fair day, the curious, without field or opera- 
 glasses, easily discern Bunker Hill Monument, 
 Wachusett, Monadnock, Gunstock, and Agamen- 
 ticus. Among the hills of Magnolia and the West 
 Parish, there are swamps fragrant with magnolias 
 and water-lilies, tangled dales and sinuous brooks, 
 cultivated meadows, apple orchards, and patches 
 of vegetables and grain. The small neighborhoods 
 here and there, and the sequestered homes scat- 
 tered throughout the rugged precinct, complete the 
 unplanned but picturesque and charming disposi- 
 tion of things. 
 
 Squam River, with its branches and coves, is 
 bordered partly by salt marshes, and partly by 
 rocky points, necks and islands. It is also dotted 
 with a few rocks and small islands. From its 
 mouth, or connection with Ipswich Bay, westward 
 to the Chebacco River, stretches Coffin's Beach, 
 with its hillocks of white sand, thinly tufted 
 with coarse, innutritious grasses. The hills near- 
 est to Coffin's Beach and Ipswich Bay are largely 
 stripped of their once dense covering of wood ; yet, 
 to the stranger, they present the unique adornings 
 of granite boulders, clumps of barberry bushes, and 
 thickets of blueberry and bayberry shrubs. 
 
 Eastward from Squam River, to Gap Head and 
 Andrews' Point, the southern and northern outer- 
 
4 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 most projections of the Cape, the features do not 
 differ from those of the district which has been 
 described. From Gloucester Harbor on the south 
 side of the Cape, to Annisquam and Bay View 
 on the north side, extends irregularly a range of 
 hills, some with broad slopes, and others with steep 
 sides. The highway from Gloucester Harbor to 
 Annisquam, through Riverdale, runs between 
 these hills and Squam River. These highlands are 
 chiefly bare of trees, but warted all over with 
 boulders of granite, from the size of a lap-stone 
 to that of a one-story dwelling. They are deeply 
 gashed across too, at several points, by dells and 
 ravines, which drain a few bogs and swamps, and 
 afford shelter and nourishment to willows, alders, 
 woodbine, clematis, and wild roses. 
 
 Eastward from this range of hills, to the end of 
 the Cape, the same interchange of hill and valley 
 continues. Moreover, a great part of this back- 
 ground of Lanesville, Folly Cove, Pigeon Cove, 
 and Rockport, extending across the Cape from 
 Ipswich Bay to Massachusetts Bay, is overgrown 
 with wood. A spur projecting from the south 
 side of the Cape, between Little Good Harbor 
 Beach and the head of the harbor, at Gloucester, 
 far into Massachusetts Bay, bearing the name of 
 Eastern Point, is the chief protection of the harbor 
 of Gloucester. Between Gloucester Harbor and 
 the Rockport line, there are several hills command- 
 ing broad views of towns, harbors, bays, and 
 
TOPOGRAPHY OF CAPE ANN. 5 
 
 diversified regions of inland. One of the highest 
 of these is Lookout Hill. On the south side of the 
 Cape, near the Rockport line, is Little Good Har- 
 bor Beach. It is walled in on the Gloucester side 
 by the Bass Rocks, and on the Rockport side by 
 Salt Island. From Little Good Harbor Beach over 
 a rocky point, within the Rockport line, Long 
 Beach is reached ; and next, after fording a stream 
 and passing a crag, Pebble Stone Beach. From 
 these beaches, and from the coves and points 
 farther toward Gap Head, there is a fine prospect 
 of Milk Island, flat and low, and without trees ; 
 Thatcher's Island, with its tall light-houses ; and a 
 wide sweep of Massachusetts Bay, and of the 
 Atlantic outside. From Gap Head, the southern 
 extreme point of the Cape, across the Gut to 
 Straitsmouth Island, it is but a few minutes' toil 
 with the oars. 
 
 The road leading from Gloucester Harbor to 
 Rockport, after crossing the line, passes through a 
 farm called Beaver Dam. The cultivated part of 
 Beaver Dam is in a basin, which may have once 
 been a lake. In the woods bounding this basin 
 on the south, and shielded from the sea by the 
 densely wooded hills near Long Beach, is a lakelet 
 distinguished as Cape Pond. Being the larger of 
 the only two considerable bodies of fresh water on 
 the Cape, this plain name is appropriate. It has a J 
 rim of pebbles and rushes, and high, precijDitous 
 surroundings of ledge and wildwood. Near its 
 
b PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 eastern end is a bog of alders and cedars, in which 
 the herons rear their young. A short distance 
 from this heronry, on the south-eastern slope of 
 Great Hill, our artist made his sketch of Cape 
 Pond. 
 
 Great Hill rises from the basin of Beaver Dam, 
 and from Cape Pond, abruptly. The road passing 
 through Beaver Dam, which has been alluded to, 
 runs over its top. The slope of this height east- 
 ward, the distance of a mile or more to the shore 
 of Sandy Bay, is gradual. From the top of this 
 elevation, the traveller's eye is not only turned 
 backward and downward into the basin of Beaver 
 Dam, a charming Sleepy Hollow, pent in by encirc- 
 ling rocky and woody ridges, and into the deep 
 and shady hiding-place of Cape Pond, to catch a 
 gleam of the diamond in its rough but beautiful 
 setting, but it is uplifted from the hollow and the 
 shadows, and the glint of the almost hidden gem, 
 to overlook the hills of rock and forest between 
 Cape Pond and Massachusetts Bay, and a large 
 extent of the Bay, besides, dotted with white sails. 
 Then it sweeps eastward to Rockport village, on 
 the south-east shore of Sandy Bay, and thence 
 stretches over Sandy Bay, lying between the south 
 and the north extreme points of the Cape, and far, 
 far over the wide sea to the horizon. 
 
 Northward from Great Hill is Poole's Hill. 
 Through the valley between these hills, the Glouces- 
 ter and Rockport Branch of the Eastern Railway 
 
TOPOGRAPHY OF CAPE ANN. 7 
 
 runs. Poole's Hill being higher than Great Hill, 
 the lover of magnificent landscapes and seascapes, 
 ascending towards its top, is certain of ample re- 
 ward for his toil. 
 
 Northward and eastward of Poole's Hill are 
 some of the most extensive granite quarries on the 
 Cape. And between these quarries and Pigeon 
 Cove Harbor looms the broad, round, smooth form 
 of Pigeon Hill. This elevation, belonging to the 
 grade next below Tompson's Mountain, originally 
 rough with boulders and shaggy with oaks, pines, 
 bushes, and brakes, is mainly under the hand of 
 culture. It would be difficult to find richer fields 
 of grass and grain than Mr. Rowe's and Mr. Eames's 
 on this hill. The ascent from the south side of 
 this height is long and easy ; from the east, more 
 steep and difficult, but in a grassy lane leading 
 from Mr. Eames's residence ; from the north, still 
 more abrupt, and part of the way by foot-paths 
 through wood and pasture. An observatory sev- 
 enty-five or a hundred feet high on this elevation 
 would afford a grander view, and perhaps a more 
 interesting one in minor particulars, than the one 
 gained by climbing Tompson's Mountain ; for even 
 now, without the aid of an observatory, the pros- 
 pect from Pigeon Hill is excelled nowhere on the 
 New England coast. On this height, the eye takes 
 in a portion of Massachusetts Bay ; Sandy Bay, 
 between the horns of the Cape ; the broad offing of 
 the ocean ; Ipswich Bay, and the long coast of hills, 
 
8 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 headlands, and beaches from the Chebacco River to 
 Agamenticus ; and the Buttercups, dark blue hills 
 near the ancient town of York, in Maine. Other 
 objects belong to this prospect : on the right hand, 
 the village of Rockport ; farther toward Gap Head, 
 Norwood's Head ; Gap Head and Straitsmouth 
 Island ; and southward from these points, That- 
 cher's Island and Milk Island ; in front, three 
 miles from the base of the hill, the Salvages, bare, 
 savage rocks, with heads just lifted above the 
 water, wearing a fitting name, albeit as it was 
 anciently spelled and written ; around the foot of 
 the hill, the beginning of the village of Pigeon 
 Cove as it is approached from Rockport ; on the 
 left hand, close to the foot of the hill, Pigeon Cove 
 Harbor, with its breakwater, wharves and shipping, 
 and its collection of buildings ; the post-office, 
 several stores, a few stone-workers' sheds, groups 
 of fish-houses, and a score of dwellings ; farther 
 northward, on ascending ground, the continuation 
 of the village, comprising the comely church and 
 the spacious and pleasant summer hotels and 
 boarding-houses ; farther still, northward, Andrews' 
 Point, the northern termination of the Cape, partly 
 clad with hardy oaks, walnuts and pines, and laid 
 out with winding avenues and gravelled walks, 
 like a park ; besides, more than a score of miles 
 from Andrews' Point, the Isles of Shoals ; then far 
 away on the main land, the villages of Essex and 
 Ipswich; Indian Hill, in Newbury; Powow Hill, 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH, THE DISCOVERER. 9 
 
 in Amesbury ; and Newburyport, on the Merri- 
 mack. Thus are pointed out some of the grander 
 general outlines, and some of the finer marks and 
 dots of the prospect from Pigeon Hill, as seen by 
 the observer on this height in the present day. 
 
 CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH, THE DISCOVERER. 
 
 What this prospect was more than two hundred 
 and fifty years ago may be conjectured in part from 
 Captain John Smith's report of his survey of the land 
 and coast, which he named New England. In 1614, 
 after passing through manifold trials and perils in 
 different parts of the world, the strangest of which 
 were those of service in the armies of Austria, and 
 those of life with the early colonists of Virginia, 
 this great adventurer, in command of two ships 
 sent from England on a voyage of trading, fishing, 
 and discovery, came to the island of Monhegan, off 
 the coast of Maine. Leaving most of the men of 
 the two vessels to fulfil one purpose of the voyage, 
 — namely, that of catching and curing cod, then 
 plentiful thereabout, — with a few men in an open 
 boat, as in former years on the Virginia waters had 
 been his wont, he started on the hazardous pur- 
 pose of discovery. He followed the coast from 
 Penobscot Bay to Cape Cod. Both by his narra- 
 
 l* 
 
10 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 tive, and the chart which he made, the extent of 
 his survey is shown. He sounded and learned the 
 depth of many harbors. Two of his tarrying 
 places for brief seasons were Ipswich and Salem, 
 then known by their Indian names, Agawam and 
 Naumkeag. While at Ipswich, his eye scanned 
 the north shore of our Cape from Coffin's Beach, 
 or the mouth of Squam River, to Andrews' Point. 
 He does not say in his report that he landed at any 
 point on the Cape, but it may be believed that he 
 touched the shore now and then for a moment's 
 rest while doubling the great headland ; for, though 
 he traversed a wide bay, and shaped his course to 
 pass craggy islands and irregular shores of rock 
 and sand, favored by calm and mild weather, he 
 had not many or great difficulties to overcome in 
 order to land. Besides, there were attractions 
 presented to his mind, influencing him to so name 
 the Cape and the three islands near its southern 
 extreme point as to commemorate the kindness of 
 a Turkish lady, and also certain of his own roman- 
 tic achievements. Tragabigzanda was the lady's 
 name, which he gave to the Cape. The three 
 islands, Straitsmouth, Thatcher's, and Milk, he 
 called the Three Turks' Heads. A concise chapter 
 of his life, so written as to help the reader to see 
 by what memories he was affected while he made 
 his way around our " fair headland" from Ipswich 
 River and Plum Island to Salem, should here be 
 quoted. 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH, THE DISCOVERER. 11 
 
 In this way it runs : " The Emperor " (of Aus- 
 tria) " being at war with the Turks, Smith entered 
 his service as a volunteer. A well conducted and 
 successful exploit obtained for the youthful adven- 
 turer the command of a company of two hundred 
 and fifty horse, in the regiment of Count Melclrick, 
 a nobleman of Transylvania. In this new situa- 
 tion, Smith distinguished himself by his talents and 
 bravery ; and his commander passing from the 
 imperial into the Transylvanian army, he accom- 
 panied him. At the siege of Regal, the Ottomans 
 sent a challenge, purporting that the Lord Turbisha, 
 for the diversion of the ladies, would fight any sin- 
 gle captain of the Christian troops. The honor of 
 meeting the barbarian was decided by lot among 
 the Christians, and fell upon Smith, who accord- 
 ingly fought and overcame him, within sight of the 
 ladies, and bore his head in triumph to his general. 
 A friend of the infidel, upon this, sent a particular 
 challenge to Smith, who accepted it, and engaging 
 with him in the presence of the ladies, as before, 
 slew him in like manner, and sent a message into 
 the town to inform the ladies, if they wished for 
 further sport, they were welcome to his head, pro- 
 vided their third champion could take it. Bona- 
 malgro appeared as his antagonist, and having 
 unhorsed him was near gaining the victory ; but 
 Smith remounted in a fortunate moment, and with 
 a stroke of his falchion brought the Turk to the 
 earth, and added his head to the former trophies of 
 
12 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 his prowess. On his return to the Christian army, 
 he was received in the most distinguished, manner ; 
 was honored with a military procession of six 
 thousand men ; was presented with a horse, ele- 
 gantly caparisoned, a cimeter worth three hundred 
 ducats, and a commission as a major. When the 
 place was captured, the prince of Transylvania 
 gave Smith his picture set in gold, with a pension 
 of three hundred ducats per annum, and a coat of 
 arms bearing three Turks' heads in a shield. After 
 this, the army in which he served was defeated by 
 the enemy, on which occasion he was wounded, and 
 lay among the dead. The victors, discovering him 
 to be a person of consequence, used him well till 
 his wounds were healed, and then sold him to a 
 pacha, who made a present of him to his mistress 
 at Constantinople. Smith conducted himself in so 
 pleasing a manner as to gain the affections of the 
 lady, who, to prevent his being ill-used, sent him to 
 her brother, a pacha on the borders of the Sea of 
 Azoph, upon the pretence that he should there 
 learn the manners, religion, &c, of the natives. By 
 the terms of the letter the brother suspected the 
 true state of the case ; and in an hour after his 
 arrival, Smith was stripped, had his head and beard 
 shaven, and was driven to labor with the Christian 
 slaves. An opportunity presented itself for his 
 escape, which he took advantage of with his usual 
 courage. Being employed in threshing, about a 
 league from the house of his tyrant, who visited 
 
CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH, THE DISCOVERER. 13 
 
 him daily, and treated him in the most abusive 
 and cruel manner. Smith watched his opportunity 
 while the}^ were together, and despatched him by 
 a stroke of his threshing instrument. He secreted 
 the body in the straw, and securing a bag of grain 
 mounted the pacha's horse, and betook himself to 
 the desert, where he wandered for two or three 
 days, until he came to a post, by the marks on 
 which he made his way into Muscovy, and in six- 
 teen days arrived at a place on the river Don, 
 occupied by a Russian garrison. Here he was 
 kindly received." 
 
 Referring in his description of New England to 
 the locality now known as Salem, Captain Smith 
 says : " From hence doth stretch into the sea the 
 fair headland Tragabigzanda, fronted with three 
 isles, called the Three Turks' Heads." This lan- 
 guage gives the impression that the discoverer 
 took pleasure in thinking that he had found a fit- 
 ting point on the coast to bear the name of his 
 benefactress. Whittier, our genuine New England 
 poet, referring to Cape Ann, in his loving tribute 
 to the Merrimack, presumes that Captain Smith 
 gave the Turkish name with as much ceremony as 
 with his little company he could attempt. Thus 
 he sings : — 
 
 " On yonder rocky Cape which braves 
 The stormy challenge of the waves, 
 Midst tangled vine and dwarfish wood 
 The hardy Anglo-Saxon stood, 
 
14 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Planting upon the topmost crag 
 The staff of England's battle-flag; 
 And, while from out its heavy fold 
 St. George's crimson cross unrolled, 
 Midst roll of drum and trumpet blare, 
 And weapons brandishing in air, 
 He gave to that lone promontory 
 The sweetest name in all his story ; — 
 Of her — the flower of Islam's daughters, 
 Whose harems look on Stamboul's waters — 
 Who, when the chance of war had bound 
 The Moslem chain his limbs around, 
 Wreathed o'er with silk that iron chain, 
 Soothed with her smiles his hours of pain, 
 And fondly to her youthful slave 
 A dearer gift than freedom gave." 
 
 Proceeding from his reference to the " fair head- 
 land," and to the " three isles " fronting it, Cap- 
 tain Smith further says : " To the north of this " 
 (the fair headland) " cloth enter a great bay, where 
 we found some habitations and cornfields." Clearly, 
 in the beginning of this sentence, Ipswich Bay is 
 meant ; but, as to the meaning of the words follow- 
 ing, nothing can be positively said. It may be 
 considered probable, however, that the "habita- 
 tions and cornfields " were found somewhere on the 
 north side of the Cape. Tools and weapons of 
 Indian manufacture, lately found on Folly Point, 
 on the northern slope of Pigeon Hill, and near 
 Pigeon Cove, as well as others like them dug in 
 recent and in former days from the sands of Cof- 
 fin's Beach, are silent but admissible witnesses 
 which strengthen the probability. 
 
A^X , IEXT TEEES. 
 
 15 
 
 ANCIENT TREES. 
 
 THE OLD CEDAR. 
 
 Moreover, let it not be supposed that there 
 were no fertile, sunny places for corn on the north 
 side of the Cape in the long ago time in review. 
 There were here then giant oaks and lofty pines, 
 which both attested the strength of the soil and 
 shielded the cornfields from wind and storm. 
 Many of these majestic trees stood on Andrews' 
 Point, and were felled and made into keels and 
 ribs for ships, within the memory of persons still 
 living. A few of these trees stand to-day to tell 
 of the ancient forest grandeur of the " fair head- 
 land." A dozen or more of them are in the Bab- 
 son pasture, inside the highway passing Halibut 
 Point. One old oak near Pigeon Cove Harbor, 
 occupying scant ground between ruts made by 
 wheels carrying granite to the breakwater, and 
 Mr. Merchant's coal-yard, if it were like Tenny- 
 son's " Talking Oak," would no doubt rehearse 
 the incidents of three hundred years. Still in the 
 
16 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 spring-time it puts forth leaves on its shrivelling 
 branches, and in the autumn wears its coronal of 
 richest hue. A red cedar, without question as 
 
 THE OLD O.vK. 
 
 ancient as this " Old Oak," and showing but a 
 hint of its former beauty in its top, fashioned now 
 somewhat like a crow's nest, leans landward over 
 a wall, near Hoop Pole Cove, seeming to say : " I 
 have braved and resisted the tempests of three 
 centuries, of more years than the white men have 
 been familiar with my surroundings ; } T et now I 
 must die and give place to the group of hardy 
 children at my side. May not their life be short- 
 ened as mine has been by the axe and knife of 
 irreverent and careless hands." On high ground, 
 overlooking this tree and Hoop Pole Cove, the 
 villager sees a thousand objects on land and ocean, 
 instructive to his thought, striking to his wonder, 
 and pleasing to his fancy ; but none of these 
 objects touch his heart more certainly, as with a 
 human voice of grave and tender tone, than the 
 
ORIGIN OF THE NAME CAPE ANN. 17 
 
 " Old Cedar," the age and endurance of which 
 have been the subject of fireside converse through 
 generation after generation of his kindred before 
 him. 
 
 ORIGIN OF THE NAME CAPE ANN. 
 
 In " Hubbard's Narrative," as given in " Young's 
 Chronicles," Cape Ann and the Three Islands 
 near its head are alluded to as having easily set 
 aside the Turkish names which from 1614 they 
 had borne. " Neither of them glorying in these 
 Mahometan titles," says the narrator, Rev. Wil- 
 liam Hubbard, of Ipswich, " the promontory 
 willingly exchanged its name for that of Cape 
 Anne, imposed, as is said, by Captain Mason, and 
 which it retaineth to this clay, in honor of our 
 famous Queen Anne, the royal consort of King 
 James ; and the three islands are now known by 
 other names." As to the relation of the origin 
 of the new name, Dr. Young says : " This is a 
 mistake. The name was altered by Prince Charles, 
 in honor of his mother, Anne of Denmark. See 
 Mass. Hist. Coll., xxvi. 97, 99, and xxiii. 20." 
 Mr. Hubbard died in Ipswich, Sept. 14, 1704, 
 aged eighty-three. 
 
18 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 SANDY BAY. 
 
 The part of the ocean at the end of the Cape 
 lying between Gap Head and Straitsmouth Island 
 on the south, and Andrews' Point on the north, in 
 the first chapter of this book alluded to as Sandy 
 Bay, has borne this name since the da}^ of the first 
 settlers around it. It is a semi-circular bay, bor- 
 dered by a shore notched with little indentations 
 called Coves. The seaward granite borders of 
 these coves have been massively and solidly built 
 upon with stone to a great height, so that safe 
 harbors for stone-sloops, coasters, and fishing-craft 
 have been made. The harbor at Rockport, on the 
 south side of Sandy Bay, is a double one with two 
 entrances. The harbor at Pigeon Cove, on the 
 north side, is a single basin with one entrance, and 
 that is close to the shore, approached from the 
 south. Two or three smaller harbors between 
 these two are occupied exclusively by stone ves- 
 sels. Between the harbor of Rockport and the 
 harbor of the Granite Company, — the latter, half- 
 way to Pigeon Cove, — there are three beaches, 
 separated from each other by narrow, jagged necks 
 and points of granite. From these beaches arose 
 the name borne by the Bay. 
 
 Across Sandy Bay, from Andrews' Point to Gap 
 Head and Straitsmouth Island, the distance is 
 
FIRST SETTLERS OF SANDY BAY. 19 
 
 about four miles. From Rockport or from Pigeon 
 Cove eastward to the Salvages, or the Savage 
 Rocks, it is three miles. The Salvages unfold their 
 harsh and cruel character when vessels are tossed 
 upon them by the storm, or when they encounter 
 them in thick, bewildering fog. 
 
 FIRST SETTLERS OF SANDY BAY. 
 
 Prior to 1700, the inhabitants around Sandy Bay 
 were few. There remains to day on Gap Head the 
 cellar of a house which was probably occupied by 
 John Babson in 1695. The land which he held at 
 that point was granted to him to use as a fishing- 
 station. The wildness of his surroundings may be 
 imagined from the circumstance that one day he 
 encountered a bear, which he killed with a knife, 
 since he had no other weapon with which to deal a 
 deadly blow, and so free himself from the fierce 
 animal. Taking off the skin of the bear, and 
 spreading it upon a rock to dry, at the end of the 
 neck which is the middle ground between the two 
 parts of the harbor at Rockport, he gave occasion 
 to the Chebacco or Ipswich fishermen, passing in 
 their boats and catching sight of the bloody thing, 
 to call the neck the name it is known by to-day, — 
 "Bearskin Neck." 
 
20 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Babson did not permanently fix himself at his 
 fishing-station. In 1721 he sold the property and 
 moved away. 
 
 Richard Tarr was the first permanent settler near 
 Sandy Bay. It is nearly certain that he located 
 on the south side of Davison's Run before Babson 
 began his fishing enterprise on Gap Head. 
 
 John Poole soon followed Tarr, and built a 
 house on the north side of Davison's Run. 
 
 Several years rolled by before other settlers 
 joined these two. 
 
 FIRST SETTLERS OF PIGEON COVE. 
 
 In the beginning of the seventeenth century a 
 few persons took up their abode near Halibut 
 Point, Andrews' Point, and Pigeon Cove ; namely, 
 Samuel Gott, William Andrews, Joshua Norwood, 
 Jethro AVheeler, Jethro Wheeler, Jr., and Thomas 
 Harris. These, and two or three others who 
 settled near Pebble Stone Beach, were the only 
 and not very near neighbors of Tarr and Poole. 
 
ANCIENT HOUSES. 21 
 
 ANCIENT HOUSES. 
 
 119i 
 
 THE OLD HOUSE. 
 
 A gambrel-roofed house near Halibut Point was 
 the home of Samuel Gott. Being on high ground, 
 its inmates of the departed years were favored, as 
 are those who occupy it to day, with a broad view 
 of land and sea. 
 
 Another habitation known as the " Old Castle," 
 on the ledge overlooking the harbor of Pigeon Cove, 
 now surrounded by other dwellings, was the abode 
 of one of the Wheelers. Architecturally, the 
 "Old Castle" is unlike the "Gott House," its 
 front roof being of the ordinary slope, its back roof 
 descending to within a few feet of the ground, and 
 its upper story jutting over the lower, in the man- 
 ner of a block-house. Its craggy site, once wild 
 and unshorn, no doubt suggested the name by 
 which it is now called. 
 
 Still another house, more ancient perhaps than 
 these dwellings just described, the residence now of 
 Joseph Babson, is honored with the distinction of 
 
22 PIGEON COVE AND VICENTTY. 
 
 being the " Old House." It stands in a field, a 
 short distance from the Pigeon Cove House. But 
 a part of this edifice is more ancient than its ven- 
 erable neighbors. The tradition is, that this part 
 was erected in 1692 by two young men, as a safe 
 retreat for their mother, who had been proclaimed 
 a witch. So far from the settlements of Salem, 
 hidden in the deep woods, the misunderstood and 
 persecuted woman was beyond the reach of the 
 hangman. Joshua Norwood enlarged and improved 
 this house, and for some time made it his home. 
 In 1740 he left it, and moved to Gap Head. 
 Since then the " Old House " has been several 
 times modified by additions and adornings, so that 
 it is admired for its comely modern as well as its 
 venerable features. Its thick oaken walls, low 
 rooms, great corner-posts and cross-beams, ample 
 chimneys, and small window-panes, make a pleasing 
 contrast with the showy but less substantial dwell- 
 ings built in the present day. Its extensions 
 and verandas, overrun with woodbine and flower- 
 ing vines, and its dark paint, like weather-stain, 
 are in harmony with its older parts and its 
 picturesque surroundings. 
 
THE GATE. 
 
 THE GATE. 
 
 From the beginning of the Pigeon Cove settle- 
 ment to the Revolutionary War, the gain in popu- 
 lation was small. The few persons who occupied 
 the farms between Pigeon Hill and Folly Cove 
 had communication with one another for many 
 years only by a rough cart-road and by narrow 
 foot-paths. Near Pigeon Cove Harbor, where the 
 good road of to-day begins to ascend toward 
 the Pigeon Cove House, a gate crossed the way. 
 Among the records of the town of Gloucester, 
 there is one item referring to this gate which was 
 written January 4th, 1722, and signed by three 
 commissioners and Jethro Wheeler. It is suf- 
 ficiently interesting to have place here : " Granted 
 to J. Wheeler about four acres of land joining his 
 own : And is in consideration of, and full satisfac- 
 tion for, the way going through his land, and for 
 his tending and maintaining a good and sufficient 
 gate or gates for cart or sled to pass through for- 
 ever, whenever any have occasion to pass over 
 said way." 
 
24 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 EVENTS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 
 
 During the eventful period of the Revolutionary 
 War, some of the sea-fights, and occasional visits 
 of British men-of-war in search of forage or on 
 murderous intent, attracted the attention of this 
 isolated neighborhood. 
 
 Many of the Cape men, being fishermen and 
 sailors, and thrown out of employment, engaged in 
 privateering. And, inasmuch as their first ven- 
 tures in this new business were made in their own 
 fishing-craft, and within sight and hearing of their 
 own homes, the people on shore, especially on the 
 outermost points, sometimes witnessed the taking 
 of British vessels. Some of these vessels came 
 from England, and some from Nova Scotia and 
 other British Provinces, with supplies for the 
 British troops stationed in Boston. One Provin- 
 cial brig, having in her hold coal and iron, and on 
 her deck live-stock, slowly feeling her way along 
 in dense fog, and hearing at length the roar of 
 breakers, dropped anchor off Flat Point. Nothing 
 being visible for the fog, and the surf at the right 
 beating against Straitsmouth Island, and the surf 
 at the left beating against Thatcher's Island, and 
 the surf directly forward beating against Flat 
 Point, raved so threateningly, that there was for 
 the brig but the chance to wait for the fog to clear 
 away. The fog lifted, but only to give a man on 
 
EVENTS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 25 
 
 shore a glimpse of the brig, and to settle down as 
 before. There was no time lost in making known 
 at the point where Rockport Harbor now is the 
 character and situation of the stranger. A fishing- 
 vessel soon hailed her, and was allowed to make 
 fast to her side. Then a strong crew, enlisted for 
 the purpose, too strong for the men of the brig to 
 resist, broke out from the hold of the little craft 
 and took possession of the rich prize. The cattle 
 were landed immediately, and put in the hill-side 
 pasture overlooking the middle beach of Sandy 
 Bay. The brig was then taken to Wheeler's Point, 
 in Squam Harbor. After her coal and iron had 
 been mostly secured, she slid from her bed near 
 the shore into the channel and sank. 
 
 An ordnance ship from England, bringing to 
 the British troops in Boston valuable war material, 
 such as small arms and cannon, and a monster mor- 
 tar, was captured and brought into Gloucester 
 Harbor. The ordnance, much needed by the 
 Americans, was hauled over land to Cambridge, 
 where it was gladly received by Washington. 
 
 But all the sea-conflicts near the Cape were not 
 successful for the privateers. This is shown by 
 Mr. Babson in the " History of Gloucester " in his 
 account of the capture of the " Yankee Hero." 
 This vessel had been built for privateering at 
 Newburyport. On a fine June day she started for 
 Gloucester to " complete her armament and crew.' , 
 " On the same day a large ship appeared off the 
 
 2 
 
26 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Cape, which seemed to be clumsily worked, and 
 to have but few men on board. Supposing she 
 could be easily taken, the people of Sandy Bay," 
 then grown to the number of three or four hun- 
 dred, "made preparations to board her. They 
 were urged on by Lieutenant Poole, who on this 
 occasion showed more valor than discretion. He 
 persuaded Captain Rowe, against his own better 
 judgment, to join in the enterprise ; for the latter 
 had some suspicions that the vessel was a ship-of- 
 war in disguise. Every mechanic, fisherman, and 
 farmer, that could be found, was enlisted, to the 
 number of twenty ; and, having procured three 
 fishing-boats, they proceeded fearlessly to the at- 
 tack. They had scarcely left their moorings, 
 when the 4 Yankee Hero ' hove in sight, coming 
 round Halibut Point. The boats steered directly 
 for her ; and, upon getting alongside, the men 
 were received on board by Captain Tracy," the 
 commander, " who eagerly declared his readiness 
 to attack the British ship. The boats were sent 
 back, and the brig made all sail and stood towards 
 the ship; into which, as she got within cannon- 
 shot, she let off a broadside. The ship immedi- 
 ately opened two tiers of ports, and sent such a 
 broadside in return as satisfied our Cape men of 
 their mistake. Poole wished to board the ship, 
 and carry her sword in hand, or die in the attempt ; 
 but his advice of this reckless measure was un- 
 heeded, and a fight commenced almost under the 
 
EVENTS OF THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 27 
 
 ship's guns. The brig maintained the contest about 
 an hour ; at the end of which, having spent her 
 ammunition, she struck to the British frigate ' Mil- 
 ford,' of thirty-six guns. The brig's last gun was 
 filled with pieces of iron, spikes, and a crowbar. 
 The latter, being the only missile left on board, 
 was thrust into the gun by Poole, who when he 
 went on board the frigate as a prisoner discovered 
 this new implement of Avar sticking through the 
 bits of her windlass. It was called by the British 
 sailors the ' Yankee belaying pin.' ' 
 
 Early in August, after the Bunker Hill battle of 
 the 17th of June, 1775, a British sloop-of-war, the 
 " Falcon," several days hovered round the north 
 shore of the Cape. She spent her time while in 
 Ipswich Bay impressing men from vessels and 
 boats, and sending barges to the shore here and 
 there to take cattle and sheep. One day she sent 
 a barge to Coffin's Beach to get sheep from Major 
 Coffin's farm. The sturdy major, and five or six 
 of his neighbors whom he had mustered, from be- 
 hind sand-hills fired well-aimed rifles so rapidly at 
 the approaching enemy, that the latter, believing 
 that a much greater force withstood them, beat 
 a retreat. Afterwards the same barge went into 
 Squam Harbor to cut out a vessel, supposed to be a 
 West Indiaman, deep in the water with a valuable 
 cargo ; but the vessel was found to be heavily 
 laden with sand. Subsequently the "Falcon" 
 sailed into Massachusetts Bay, and entered Glouces- 
 
28 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 ter Harbor, holding in hand a West Indiaman, 
 which she had captured, as a prize, and pursuing 
 another, to double her success. But she was so 
 hotly opposed by the brave men on shore, that 
 she fled to sea, leaving the two Indiarnen, several 
 barges, and thirty-five men as the cost of her 
 temerity. 
 
 AFTER THE REVOLUTIONARY WAR. 
 
 Forward from the close of the Revolutionary 
 War, the population at the end of the Cape, within 
 the limits of the territory known since 1840 as 
 Rockport, increased rapidly. Mr. Babson, the 
 careful and thorough historian of the Cape, records 
 the " striking fact " that this " latest settled por- 
 tion " of the Cape " had, up to 1840, outstripped all 
 the older localities in a proportionate increase of 
 population." " This growth," he says, "is attrib- 
 uted to the success of the shore-fishing for most of 
 this period, to persevering industry in agriculture, 
 and the quarrying of stone ; to all of which the 
 economy and other good habits of the people have 
 been important auxiliaries." 
 
PIGEON COVE HARBOR. 29 
 
 PIGEON COVE HARBOR. 
 
 Since the shore-fishing could be carried on only 
 in small boats, and the people became ambitious 
 to engage in larger business, the artificial harbors 
 which have been mentioned were built to afford 
 anchorage and shelter to vessels of heavy tonnage. 
 These harbors of Rockport and Pigeon Cove were 
 badly damaged by the great storm of 1841. At 
 Pigeon Cove, the wall which received the brunt of 
 the storm gave way and fell, and the vessels in 
 the harbor were destroyed. A higher, firmer, and 
 more extended barrier now occupies the place of 
 the one demolished, and one would not suppose the 
 sea would ever rise to such a pitch in wrath as to 
 make this great work of thirty years in building, 
 and still in building, a ruin. But some idea of 
 the force of the sea in the time of wind and tem- 
 pest may be got, by visiting at the end of Andrews' 
 Point an immense block of granite, of a hundred 
 and fifty tons' weight, which, in the disastrous day 
 for the harbor, was wrenched from its solid bed, 
 and whirled over twenty yards to the spot where 
 it lies. The huge block would seem more ex- 
 posed in its new place than where it had been 
 packed thousands and thousands of years, but there 
 it rests during the toughest gales, warding like a 
 giant the blows of the waves, or, unaffected, tak- 
 ing all their poundings till their rage is spent. 
 
30 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 SHORE FROM SEA. 
 
 jMg^j£gitS& 
 
 THE VILLAGE AND ANDREWS' POINT. 
 
 The town of Rockport to day, the town of two 
 villages, which are almost united by a chain of 
 habitations stretching from one to the other on 
 a single road, as seen from vessels crossing Sandy 
 Bay, or from the Salvages, three miles from shore, 
 or from the steamers and other craft, large and 
 small, passing the outermost points of the Cape, is 
 one of the prettiest of the sea-board towns. Seven 
 churches and chapels, representing different forms 
 of Christian belief; the town-house, ample and 
 convenient for the purposes of the building ; the 
 school-houses, erected and used to answer the ends 
 of education ; the extensive steam cotton-mill, built 
 
SHORE FROM SEA. 31 
 
 of granite, and made imposing with two massive 
 towers ; the isinglass and glue factories ; the hide 
 factory ; the granite quarries on the woody middle 
 and northern background, advertising themselves 
 to the eye through scores of lofty derricks, and to 
 the ear through powder-blasts loud as reports of 
 heavy ordnance ; and the hotels for summer visitors, 
 on the high grounds north of Pigeon Cove Harbor, 
 — all these prominent objects, together with the 
 more numerous and less marked, belonging to the 
 plan of the town, indicate the achievements of a long 
 series of peaceful years. How great have been 
 the victories of peace ! A charming picture to the 
 vision of the passing mariners from every commer- 
 cial land ; especially to that of the increasing 
 thousands, who, every midsummer, while resting 
 from the toil of hand and brain, and avoiding the 
 fervors and pestilences of the crowded cities, not 
 only resort to the places of pure air and grateful, 
 cooling breezes for comfort and health, but also 
 indulge the inclination for yachting, and for enjoy- 
 ing from point to point, as they sail, the fine views 
 of the shore from the sea : views to be kept in 
 memory as better than wealth, or all that one 
 might gather and hoard in a lifetime of unbroken, 
 avaricious toil. 
 
 The sketches of the sea-fights of the Revolu- 
 tionary War will not be forgotten. Such bloody 
 encounters are exceptional and startling, and strain 
 the nerves ; but if, for right and justice, they 
 
32 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 must take place, they take on and wear the dignity 
 and glory of lofty endeavor, of generous and noble 
 self-sacrifice. Stories of such conflicts will be 
 written in books and repeated among the tales of 
 the fireside from year to year for centuries. 
 
 EVENTS OF THE LAST WAR WITH ENGLAND. 
 
 It has been seen what the old seafaring men of 
 the Cape did, scarcely more than a cannon-shot 
 from the abodes of their wives and children, in the 
 first war with Great Britain. So something should 
 be related here of the similar action of their sons 
 on our waters in the last war with the same 
 power. 
 
 " In August, 1813," (Mr. Babson's History is 
 again quoted), "the British ship ' Nymph,' then 
 cruising off the coast, commenced depredations 
 upon the fishermen and coasters, and occasioned 
 considerable alarm among the inhabitants. She 
 made several captures ; but her captain released his 
 prizes upon the payment of a ransom, for the pur- 
 pose of raising which the masters of three coasters 
 and six fishing-boats were ashore at one time. The 
 amount then required was two hundred dollars for 
 each vessel. Resistance in all these cases was, of 
 course, useless ; but in one, in which the force of 
 
EVENTS OF LAST WAR WITH ENGLAND. 33 
 
 the enemy was less formidable, our people de- 
 fended their property successfully. Some time in 
 August, one of the enemy's cruisers, of about sixty 
 tons, called the ' Commodore Broke,' stood into 
 Sandy Bay, with the intention of taking one or 
 more loaded coasters then lying at anchor there. 
 Having neared the shore, and wishing, perhaps, 
 first to try the courage of the people, she fired sev- 
 eral large and grape shot into the village ; upon 
 which the men of the place assembled on the 
 Neck, and from the north-easterly part of the old 
 wharf, where they had a small cannon, began to 
 fire upon the enemy with that, and also with their 
 small arms. At this time the captain of the 
 cruiser had commenced to sweep out of the bay ; 
 but the Cape men did not let him escape without 
 showing him a token of their spirit and skill, for 
 the first cannon-ball they fired at him entered the 
 schooner under her transom, and passing under 
 deck came out near her stern above water. The 
 firing upon the vessel was kept up from Bear- 
 skin Neck, and the men at Pigeon Cove gave her 
 several musket-shot as she passed their shore, but 
 she got off without further damage ; and our 
 people, by their bravery, preserved a considerable 
 amount of property. 
 
 " A more important affair occurred in September 
 at Sandy Bay. The people at that place had, in 
 the spring of this 3 T ear, erected at their own ex- 
 pense a fort on the point of Bearskin Neck, and 
 2* c 
 
34 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 procured for it three carriage-guns, which were 
 placed in charge of a corporal, with a detachment 
 from one of the companies at the Harbor " 
 (Gloucester). " On the 8th of September, the 
 British frigate ' Nymph ' took one of the fishing- 
 boats belonging to the place ; and her skipper 
 (Captain David Elwell) was compelled to act as 
 pilot for two barges, full of men, which the captain 
 of the frigate determined to send in to get posses- 
 sion of the fort. These barges started from the 
 frigate about midnight, and, hidden from sight by a 
 dense fog, were rowed with muffled oars towards 
 the Neck; and, having reached it, one of the 
 barges proceeded into Long Cove, and landed her 
 men at what is called the 4 Eastern Gutter.' The 
 enemy then marched to the fort ; took the sentinel 
 by surprise ; made prisoners of the soldiers, four- 
 teen in number ; spiked the guns, which they threw 
 out of the fort. The other barge went into the 
 old dock on the western side of the Neck ; where 
 her men soon encountered some of the people of 
 the village, who had been roused by an alarm given 
 by a sentinel stationed on the Neck, not far from 
 the houses. It was now daybreak, and a clear 
 morning. Several musket-balls were fired at this 
 barge by three of the Cape men, who got in return 
 cannon and grape shot, but received no injury 
 from them. To silence the alarm-bell, which was 
 now ringing, several shot were fired at the belfry 
 of the meeting-house, one of which struck one of 
 
EVENTS OF LAST ¥AE WITH ENGLAND. 35 
 
 the posts of the steeple. But this attempt had 
 a disastrous and nearly fatal termination for the 
 enemy ; for the firing of their large gun caused a 
 butt to start in the bow of the barge, which soon 
 began to fill with water, and finally sank just as 
 the men got her in near the rocks back of the pier. 
 The officer in command, and a few of his men, ran 
 across the Neck, and seizing a boat made their 
 escape. The rest, a dozen or more, were made 
 prisoners. In the mean time, the men who took 
 the fort had, with all their prisoners, or a part of 
 them, got into then barge, and were on their way 
 back to the frigate." 
 
 Soon after, an exchange of prisoners was effected ; 
 and the British captain gave his word that 
 through the rest of the autumn the fishermen toil- 
 ing on their fishing-grounds should not be molested. 
 He will be remembered as having honorably kept 
 his promise. 
 
 These are some of the few instances of attack 
 from the sea, and of resistance from the land, at 
 the end of the Cape, in the last struggle of our 
 nation with the mother country. 
 
36 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 SEA FROM SHORE. 
 
 AFTER A STORM, FROM CATHEDRAL ROCK. 
 
 But what now is the sea-view from the shore, 
 unfolding the magnificent results of many years of 
 peace, corresponding with the shore-view from the 
 sea, which has been described ? 
 
 The commerce of the world is largely represented 
 on our offing and in Massachusetts Bay. Outward 
 bound and inward bound ships, barques and brigs, 
 belonging to all sea-bordering lands, are almost 
 daily seen from our own windows. Some are 
 gfoingf to or coming from the distant East Indies 
 
SEA FROM SHORE. 37 
 
 and Japan ; some to or from Eastern or Western 
 Africa, or the Cape of Good Hope ; some to or 
 from Asia Minor, or Egypt, or Southern Europe, 
 or Northern Europe, or Great Britain ; some to or 
 from Brazil, Chili, Peru, California, the Sandwich 
 Islands, Australia ; and some to Borneo and other 
 spicy islands of the Pacific sea. Often within 
 view, added to these larger craft bearing rich 
 cargoes and scented with foreign odors, are the 
 countless smaller vessels of the Canadian Dominion 
 and of our own coasting and fishing fleets ; and, 
 together with these, the steamships and steam- 
 boats that plough the Atlantic between Boston and 
 Liverpool and other European ports ; between 
 Boston and the principal cities of Maine ; and Bos- 
 ton and St. John's ; and Boston and Halifax. Now 
 and then comes a rare day for the display of white 
 sails, when the pomp of peace on the sea is sur- 
 veyed as excelling the grandest exhibition of naval 
 warfare the world ever saw. There has been a 
 week of storm, and all the harbors of Massachu- 
 setts Bay are crowded with vessels waiting for fair 
 weather. At length the sky is clear, and the 
 morning sun shines upon a thousand steaming 
 decks. The wind blows steadily from the west. 
 Presently the whole bay is covered with sails 
 driving toward the open sea. After gaining the 
 wide space of our offing, they disperse in splendid 
 style, in all directions. Or the mackerel-fleets are 
 busy with lines and nets in Ipswich Bay, and near 
 
38 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 the Salvages. The observer on shore, sitting in his 
 veranda, and sweeping with his vision from right 
 to left the interesting spectacle, counts five or six 
 hundred schooners. 
 
 One having a home by the sea is continually 
 reminded of broad relationship and boundless 
 society. While strengthened and deepened in 
 local attachments, he is made more and more a 
 cosmopolitan. If he travels far into the country 
 and sojourns among the mountains, being a lover of 
 Nature in all her forms and moods, and quick to 
 discover and appreciate her grander or more beauti- 
 ful arrangements, her wonderful though common 
 lights and shadows, he readily, now and then, 
 indulges the fancy that a house on some slope he 
 sees, shielded from the north and east winds by 
 lofty peaks, fronted by meadows through which 
 there is a stretch of river into the distant southern 
 horizon, and glorified at the close of every fair day 
 by the rays of the descending sun, would be a 
 delightful home ; and he does not wonder that so 
 many persons of abundant means retire from the 
 artificial life of the closely packed towns, to enjoy 
 the quiet pleasures of a place like this. And his 
 fancy is not so wild as many would deem it ; but 
 he is not led away by it so far, that he loses the 
 thought of the superlative advantages of his sea- 
 side habitation. He returns to the shore of the 
 heaving main, thinking that here he can have lone- 
 liness or society according to his wish. If, in the 
 
SEA FROM SHORE. 39 
 
 ordinary sense lie have no connection with neigh- 
 borhood, he yet, in looking day by day upon the 
 sea, will feel that he is in communication with the 
 ends of the earth, that the pulse of the most distant 
 lands give answer to his questioning touch, that he 
 exchanges thought with a great brotherhood, not 
 only in the gay fleets that so often pass his eye, 
 and in the "sister commonwealths" of the conti- 
 nent behind him, and in the proud realms of 
 Europe, but in far-away Hindostan, Sumatra, 
 China, and Japan. Living by the sea, he is at 
 once apart from the haunts of men, and a cit- 
 izen of the world. At the " ocean's edge," he 
 may, and does perhaps, go farther and see more 
 than many who sail abroad. Thoreau reports 
 him as singing this charming strain : — 
 
 " My life is like a stroll upon the beach, 
 As near the ocean's edge as I can go ; 
 My tardy steps its waves sometimes o'er-reach, 
 Sometimes I stay to let them overflow. 
 
 My sole employment 'tis, and scrupulous care, 
 To set my gains beyond the reach of tides, 
 
 Each smoother pebble and each shell more rare, 
 Which ocean kindly to my hand confides. 
 
 I have but few companions on the shore, 
 
 They scorn the strand who sail upon the sea ; 
 
 Yet oft I think the ocean they've sailed o'er 
 Is deeper known upon the strand to me. 
 
 The middle sea contains no crimson dulse, 
 Its deeper waves cast up no pearls to view : 
 
 Along the shore my hand is on its pulse, 
 
 And I converse with many a shipwrecked crew." 
 
40 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 FIRST SUMMER VISITORS. 
 
 About the time when Sandy Bay and Pigeon 
 Cove were set off from Gloucester, and became 
 the town of Rockport (1840), Richard H. Dana, 
 Senior, looking for a pleasant summer retreat, found 
 Pigeon Cove, and took up his abode here for 
 the season. In 1842 William Cullen Bryant here 
 joined his venerable friend, and spent the summer 
 with him in delightful rambles on the shore, in the 
 pastures, and in the woods. Mr. Brackett, the 
 sculptor, also came, and moulded a bust of Mr. 
 Bryant. That was a summer to be remembered by 
 the village people ; for men with seeing vision and 
 acutest faculties and clearest utterance made a 
 survey of their little seaside hamlet and its envi- 
 rons, interpreted the marvels all about them, and 
 shed the light of their presence upon the common 
 things of sea and land always within sight. Since 
 then our woods have a charm which they did not 
 seem to contain before : our ledges, crags, and 
 boulders, mottled with moss ; our hills and pastures, 
 adorned with groves of pine and oak, and with 
 patches of huckleberry and bayberry bushes ; our 
 bold and sloping granite shores, perpetually kept 
 clean by the washings of the sea, — have meaning 
 and value far above the usual estimate which men 
 set upon such possessions. 
 
FIRST SUMMER VISITOES. 41 
 
 Mr. Dana and Mr. Brackett had rooms in the old 
 tavern on the south side of Pigeon Cove Harbor, 
 then kept by William Norwood, Jr. Mr. Bryant 
 sojourned in the " Old House " with John Wheeler, 
 at that time its owner. In later summers Mr. 
 Dana chose the " Old House " as his tarrying 
 place, the seaside inn having been discovered and 
 occupied by families from one neighborhood in Bos- 
 ton. Mr. Bryant soon bought a seashore home, 
 near Flushing, on Long Island, and did not again 
 visit Pigeon Cove. Mr. Dana continued his visits 
 a few seasons, and then built a summer house for 
 himself on the south shore of our Cape, within the 
 limits of Manchester. Though both were in man- 
 ner reserved and retiring, they yet crossed the 
 thresholds of some of the homes in the village, and 
 of others sequestered in the woods near the village, 
 and so discoursed with the inmates of these abodes 
 that their words are still recalled and repeated with 
 pride and pleasure. A chance meeting with Mr. 
 Dana on a fair day in the shade of the pines, or on 
 a stormy day on the shore of the sea, was a benedic- 
 tion ; for, in either case, in choice words and pleas- 
 ant tones he interpreted the look and voice of 
 Nature. Listening to his talk of Washington 
 Allston, after the going down of the sun till into 
 the morning hours of one and two, was an experi- 
 ence of deepest and most enchanting entertainment. 
 A starry summer night with a poet whose " temples, 
 wan and gray," had long worn a glorious crown, 
 
42 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 with a sage of song, telling the rare story of the 
 great artist, cannot pass from the memory into 
 the realm of things forgotten. The low room in 
 the " Old House," dimly lighted by a wick soon to 
 flicker in the socket and go out, was illumined in 
 such wise that there was no need of lamp or taper 
 to lend it radiance. 
 
 One selection from Mr. Dana's poems will not 
 be here out of place. It shall be 
 
 THE PLEASURE-BOAT. 
 
 " Come, hoist the sail, the fast let go ! 
 They're seated side by side ; 
 Wave chases wave in pleasant flow : 
 The bay is fair and wide. 
 
 The ripples lightly tap the boat. 
 
 Loose ! — Give her to the wind ! 
 She shoots ahead, — they're all afloat : 
 
 The strand is far behind. 
 
 No danger reach so fair a crew ; 
 
 Thou goddess of the foam, 
 I'll ever pay thee worship due, 
 
 If thou wilt bring them home. 
 
 Fair ladies, fairer than the spray 
 
 The prow is dashing wide, 
 Soft breezes take you on your way, 
 
 Soft flow the blessed tide ! 
 
 Oh, might I like those breezes be, 
 
 And touch that arching brow, 
 I'd toil for ever on the sea 
 
 Where ye are floating now ! 
 
FIRST SUMMER VISITORS. 43 
 
 The boat goes tilting on the waves ; 
 
 The waves go tilting by ; 
 There dips the duck, — her back she laves ; 
 
 O'erhead the sea-gulls fly. 
 
 Now, like the gulls that dart for prey, 
 
 The little vessel stoops ; 
 Now rising shoots along her way, 
 
 Like them, in easy swoops. 
 
 The sun-light falling on her sheet, 
 
 It glitters like the drift 
 Sparkling in scorn of summer's heat, 
 
 High up some mountain rift. 
 
 The winds are fresh ; she's driving fast 
 
 Upon the bending tide, 
 The crinkling sail and crinkling mast 
 
 Go with her side by side. 
 
 Why dies the breeze away so soon 1 
 
 Why hangs the pennant down ? 
 The sea is glass ; the sun at noon. 
 
 — Nay, lady, do not frown ; 
 
 For, see, the winged fisher's plume 
 
 Is painted on the sea : 
 Below, a cheek of lovely bloom, 
 
 Whose eyes look up at thee. 
 
 She smiles ; thou need'st must smile on her; 
 
 And, see, beside her face 
 A rich, white cloud that doth not stir. 
 
 What beauty and what grace ! 
 
 And pictured beach of yellow sand, 
 
 And peaked rock and hill, 
 Change the smooth sea to fairy land. 
 
 How lovely and how still ! 
 
44 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 From that far isle the thresher's flail 
 Strikes close upon the ear ; 
 
 The leaping fish, the swinging sail 
 Of yonder sloop sound near. 
 
 The parting sun sends out a glow 
 
 Across the placid bay, 
 Touching with glory all the show. — 
 
 A breeze ! — Up helm ! — Away ! 
 
 Careening to the wind, they reach, 
 With laugh and call, the shore. 
 
 They've left their foot-prints on the beach ; 
 But them I hear no more. 
 
 Goddess of Beauty, must I now 
 Vowed worship to thee pay *? 
 Dear goddess, I grow old, I trow : 
 My head is growing gray." 
 
 THE FIRST PIGEON COVE HOUSE. 
 
 The number of summer visitors so increased, 
 that Mr. Norwood left the tavern on the south side 
 of the Cove, and opened a house in a pleasanter situ- 
 ation, six hundred yards up the ascent, on the 
 north side. At first he and his accomplished wife 
 had rooms for a few families only ; for their house 
 was but of the common style in New England, fifty 
 and sixty years ago : square, with large chimney- 
 stack in the centre, roof front and rear sloping 
 
THE FIRST PIGEON COVE HOUSE. 45 
 
 from the chimney to the eaves equally, and the 
 front entrance between the two front rooms. But 
 this house was enlarged to accommodate new- 
 comers with the old, till it became the building of 
 many gables which we see in our artist's represen- 
 tation. After Mr. Norwood's death, Mrs. Norwood 
 remained in it many years as the hostess still, 
 successfully fulfilling the duties of her place, and 
 winning the respect and commendation of the 
 large number from all quarters of the land who 
 tried the comfort and entertainment of her home- 
 like abode. 
 
 Several other homes of the neighborhood also 
 entertained strangers ; so that Pigeon Cove, though 
 not departing from simple, unfashionable ways, 
 donned a habit somewhat new, and became widely 
 known as a watering-place. 
 
 Gentlemen, whether with or without families, 
 came to Pigeon Cove, not to waste their substance 
 and wear their life out in excesses and follies, but 
 for rest and quiet and healthful pastimes ; for 
 ocean-view and seaside ramble ; for good air from 
 over the brine, and healing whiffs from the bal- 
 samic pines ; and for all the pure and sweet 
 pleasures which can be had where rural and ma- 
 rine attractions and charms are so singularly and 
 happily brought together. Clergymen and many 
 of their intimate friends were accustomed to spend 
 their summer vacations here. They came from 
 all the Chiistian communions ; but to dwell to- 
 
46 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 gether here as children and brethren of one fam- 
 ily. The remembrance of them is nndimmed, 
 and their names are repeated without recourse to 
 leaves of record. A list of shining names : Drs. 
 E. S. Gannett, Cyrus Bartol, J. F. Clarke, T. B. 
 Thayer, Kirk and Stone, of Boston ; Drs. Chapin 
 and Bellows, of New York ; President Wayland 
 and Bishop Clark, of Providence ; Dr. Hill, of 
 "Worcester ; Dr. Allen, of Northampton ; and Revs. 
 Thomas Starr King, Charles H. Leonard, J. G. 
 Adams, C. H. Fay, and A. D. Mayo. Of the 
 literary men, are readily recalled Richard Froth- 
 ingham, Jr., Edwin P. Whipple, James T. Fields, 
 T. W. Higginson, and the brothers Durivage. 
 Also come to mind, with these, a host of bank- 
 ers, merchants, lawyers, school-teachers, inventors, 
 and others of every occupation from many of the 
 principal cities and villages in the nation : from 
 Boston and vicinity, Salem, Lowell, Worcester, 
 Springfield, Cincinnati, Dayton, Chicago, St. Louis, 
 Peoria, Alton, New Orleans, Augusta, Ga., Castle- 
 ton, St. Albans, Troy, Nashua, Manchester, Port- 
 land, Hallowell, and Calais. 
 
 THE NEW PIGEON COVE HOUSE. 
 
 In 1866 Mrs. Norwood retired from the Pigeon 
 Cove House. Mrs. E. S. Robinson took her place 
 
THE OCEAN VIEW HOUSE. 47 
 
 as owner and hostess. In the spring of '71 Mrs. 
 Robinson moved from its site the many-gabled 
 edifice, and bnilt on the same spot a larger and 
 more attractive house. This new house was fin- 
 ished and opened for visitors the next July. It 
 is a spacious and convenient building, and hand- 
 some withal, wearing proudly the old, familiar 
 name, — Pigeon Cove House. 
 
 THE OCEAN VIEW HOUSE. 
 
 In the same spring, too, the Ocean View House 
 was erected, and immediately opened for visitors. 
 It is but three hundred yards from the Pigeon Cove 
 House ; a comely building, commanding a broad 
 view of the ocean. Its proprietors are Frank B. 
 Babson and Co. 
 
 Including with these hotels Mr. Swett's cosey and 
 comfortable home, with accommodation for twenty- 
 five or thirty persons, and several other dwellings, 
 with room for four, or six, or ten, or twelve, and 
 keeping in mind the fact that all these homes, large 
 and small, are filled in midsummer with sojourners, 
 and the reader will judge that the little parties 
 of thirty years ago have grown to be a great and 
 goodly company. 
 
48 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 THE WAY TO PIGEON COVE: RAILROAD. 
 
 THE VILLAGE CHURCH AND JAMES EDMUNDS S HOUSE. 
 
 Being in Boston, the tourist takes the Gloucester 
 and Rockport train at the station of the Eastern 
 Railway. In the brief time of an hour and 
 thirty minutes, he is drawn by the locomotive 
 away from the heat, dust, and noisomeness of the 
 city, to the pure, cool air of the ocean ; to the 
 breezy points jutting into the sea from the end 
 of Cape Ann ; to the grateful repose and un cor- 
 rupting fascinations of Pigeon Cove. Though the 
 train rolls on the track at a rapid rate, the jour- 
 ney is enjoyable for fine landscapes and bright 
 glimpses of the sea ; for interchange of town and 
 field, tilth and orchard, marsh and upland, hill and 
 valley, pasture and forest. Charlestown, Somer- 
 ville, Everett, Chelsea, Winthrop and Revere, one 
 after another, are recognized by a glance. The 
 hills of Saugus, bordering the marsh which is 
 traversed, and one of the villages of Saugus look- 
 
THE WAY TO PIGEON COVE: BAILROAD. 49 
 
 ing down from its elevated site, on the left ; Chelsea 
 Beach flanking the marsh, and like a parapet de- 
 fending it against the assaults of the sea, on the 
 right ; serpentine creeks, bright as silver, dividing 
 the marsh into many sections, and, with the grass 
 and reeds swept and shaken by the wind, present- 
 ing pleasing contrasts of light and shade ; island- 
 like acres covered with wood, dotting the sea of 
 grass ; isolated but memorable Nahant, across the 
 water from Chelsea Beach; Lynn, with outspread 
 wings broad and white, and sparkling as if 
 sprinkled with crystals ; Swampscott on the 
 heights toward Massachusetts Bay, and, nearer, 
 presenting Mr. Stetson's place with its beautiful 
 elm ; the rugged pastures, wearing, with the com- 
 mon robe of grass and clover, shreds of heather, 
 and plumed with slender, dark-green savins, and 
 holding stubbornly against innovation the space 
 between their southern bounds at Lynn and 
 Swampscott, and their northern at Peabody and 
 Salem ; and the ancient towns of Salem and Bev- 
 erly, connected by bridges across the mouth of a 
 river, — all, as the cars rush along on the iron 
 way, come to the vision with the silence and 
 rapidity of thought, but with distinct outlines, and 
 unconfused objects within the outlines, touched 
 by gleam and shadow under the sky of sun and 
 cloud. 
 
 At Beverly the train is switched off from the 
 Eastern Road upon the Gloucester and Rockport 
 
50 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Branch. From this point to the terminus of the 
 Branch, the diversity of point, crag, beach, bay, and 
 islands, offset by hill, valley, rock, and forest, is 
 sufficiently interesting to please the most discern- 
 ing: observer. Nowhere is there a ride of sixteen 
 miles by rail more picturesque than this from 
 Beverly to Rockport and Pigeon Cove. 
 
 THE OLD STAGE AND CARRIAGE ROAD. 
 
 VIEW FROM OVERLOOK. 
 
 The railway ride is only excelled by that of the 
 old-fashioned stage, or of the private vehicle, on 
 the old common road stretching along the same 
 scalloped shore. Unlike the railway, this road 
 conforms to the indentations of the shore, and 
 winds over little elevations and through the val- 
 leys separating them. For room, comfort, and 
 expedition, whatever the weather, the cars are 
 
THE OLD STAGE AND CARRIAGE ROAD. 51 
 
 preferred ; but some fine and delightful things have 
 been given up. On fair days in June, July, or 
 August, or in September or October, the memory 
 goes back to the stage-times of Addison Center, 
 Jacob B. Winchester and Edward H. Shaw. They 
 had strong, well-upholstered stages, and good 
 horses ; and they were careful, skilful drivers. Mr. 
 Center and Mr. Winchester drove between Salem 
 and Gloucester; Mr. Shaw, between Gloucester and 
 the end of the Cape. It was a favor to have a 
 seat on the box with either of these gentlemen 
 of the whip. Going to Gloucester from Salem, 
 the stage started from the Essex Coffee House. 
 Leaving the staid and quiet city by the way of 
 Washington Square and Beverly Bridge, such 
 names came to mind as Derby, Higginson, Salton- 
 stall, Bowclitch, Peabody, and Hawthorne. Derby 
 Wharf, ships from Sumatra and Canton, the East 
 India Marine Hall, the Custom House, the " Scarlet 
 Letter," followed, in recollection, a reverie of the 
 olden times, of the witches and Gallows Hill. 
 Passing through the sombre, quiet old street of 
 Beverly, a thought was given to Dane, and another 
 to the younger Rantoul. Onward through Beverly 
 Farms and Manchester, the eye wandered in every 
 direction, while Jacob B. Winchester related quaint 
 stories in a quaint way. Islands and lighthouses ; 
 some of the steeples and roofs of Marblehead; 
 new summer residences here and there, peejDing 
 through the loop-holes of woody hill-tops, or the 
 
52 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 avenues of trees connecting them with the high- 
 way ; brooks and little inlets spanned by stone 
 bridges ; small, half-moon beaches ; coves, bordered 
 with rocks and kelp ; a pond within a few rods 
 of the salt waves, its whole surface starred with 
 water-lilies ; grove after grove of oaks and pines, 
 barberry and bayberry bushes, on the roadsides 
 and in the pastures, — these were some of the 
 objects of the route which made it pleasant and 
 even enchanting. Proceeding from Manchester 
 with a steady trot, the enchantment became almost 
 bewildering, because of the wildness and variety 
 at every turn. Besides, in the very heart of 
 the most picturesque section of the route, where 
 sea and shore vie with each other to produce mar- 
 vellous and charming effects, it was known that 
 through the tangle of woodbine and wild roses on 
 the roadside, and then over the thickly wooded 
 ridge, hidden in the swamps among the hills on 
 hills toward the north, the magnolias were wast- 
 ing their " sweetness on the desert air." Approach- 
 ing Gloucester by Fresh Water Cove, and over 
 the great elevation at Steep Bank, at once came to 
 view Stage Rocks, Squam River, the town, the 
 harbor, and Beacon Pole or Governor's Hill, behind 
 the west end of the town ; and then Eastern Point, 
 across the harbor, stretching southward into Massa- 
 chusetts Bay. If the Cut was crossed at sunset, 
 some of the gleams which Epes Sargent's vision 
 caught in the gloaming at the close of a summer's 
 
THE OLD STAGE AND CARRIAGE ROAD. 
 
 53 
 
 day came to the traveller's eye. Thus this son of 
 Cape Ann sings : — 
 
 " Look ! All the lighthouses 
 Flash greeting to the night. There, Eastern Point 
 Flames out ! Lo, little Ten Pound Island follows ! 
 See Baker's Island kindling ! Marblehead 
 Ablaze ! Egg Rock, too, off Nahant, on fire ! 
 And Boston Light winking at Minot's Ledge ! 
 Like the wise virgins, all, with ready lamps ! " 
 
 THE OLD PIGEON COVE HOUSE. 
 
 From Gloucester to Rockport and Pigeon Cove 
 in the twilight or early evening, fanned by the 
 sea-breeze, and smiled on by the stars, was a natu- 
 ral and agreeable ending of the journey. The 
 waves advancing and retreating on Little Good 
 Harbor Beach broke the stillness with laughter. 
 The great rocks, looming in the darkness, grew to 
 awful proportions; the hollow of Beaver Dam 
 rang with peepings of countless frogs. On the 
 summit of Great Hill the lights of Straitsmouth 
 Island and Thatcher's Island welled out their 
 liquid rays upon the sea. At the base of the hill 
 the village lights were a sign of welcome ; lan- 
 terns, swung in the rigging of vessels on the ocean, 
 
54 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 rose and sank with the rising and sinking billows. 
 Around the base of Pigeon Hill, the straggling 
 houses were torch-bearers showing the way; and 
 the restless waves, at hand, whispered now softly 
 and now harshly, and anon lifted their voices 
 angrily, as if in dispute with the crags and the 
 pebbles confronting them along the shore. Pigeon 
 Cove Harbor was smooth and silent, reflecting the 
 stars and holding a fleet of vessels and dories within 
 its thick and lofty wall. The stage ascended the 
 hill, passing the few dwellings with lighted halls 
 and parlors, and stopped at the gate of the Pigeon 
 Cove House. From the door of the inn came forth 
 the earlier comers to welcome the later. From the 
 inside and from the outside of the stage, these 
 latter alighted and exchanged greetings with the 
 former. So ended fittingly the rare ride of a late 
 afternoon and an early evening in the stages, on 
 the old stage road from Salem to Pigeon Cove. 
 
WALKS AND B AMBLES. 
 
 55 
 
 WALKS AND RAMBLES. 
 
 THE K.NUTSFORDS. 
 
 The walks and rambles near Pigeon Cove are as 
 charming for variety and for answering the ends 
 of out-door exercise as the clearest seeing and 
 most wisely discriminating pedestrian would desire. 
 Naturally the nearest are the first to try. These 
 are made easy to those who are not accustomed 
 to the rough paths of pasture and wood. Since 
 the purchase of Andrews' Pasture and the exten- 
 sive adjacent grounds, by Eben B. Phillips and 
 George Babson, these proprietors have improved 
 their tract by laying it out with broad avenues 
 and winding walks. These avenues and walks arc 
 nicely graded and gravelled. From the hotels into 
 the principal avenue, — that is, Phillips Avenue, 
 — it is but a step. The mile's walk of this wide 
 and smooth road is circuitous, partly through 
 groves of oaks and pines, and partly over open 
 
56 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 grounds, fragrant with sweet ferns, bay berry shrubs, 
 and wild roses, and affording fine views of the sea 
 from Thatcher's Island to A^amenticus, and a view 
 
 'HILLIPS AVENUE. 
 
 of the long coast to this mountain in Maine, from 
 Ipswich Beach and Plum Island. 
 
 It is an easy and pleasant walk to the Break- 
 water. On this outer wall of Pigeon Cove Harbor, 
 the near scene of fishermen at the wharves, and of 
 stone-sloops loading with granite to take to Boston 
 and other cities, is entertaining to those who have 
 not often looked upon it, and even to those to 
 whom it has been a long time familiar. Turning 
 about and looking in the opposite direction, the 
 never uninteresting ocean, the always-the-same 
 and yet the ever-changing expanse of waves, glori- 
 ous in the sun and gay with sailing craft of every 
 description, is surveyed admiringly. From the 
 Breakwater the marginal path is followed along 
 the shore to Singers' Bluff, which overlooks the 
 sea but a few hundred yards from the hotels. 
 
WALKS AND RAMBLES. 
 
 57 
 
 Thence the walk is continued by the Bath, where 
 the bathers in picturesque costumes are cheerfully 
 plunging into the sea or dancing in the surf ; by 
 the Blue Streaks, veins of trap, some a few inches, 
 others several feet through, which cross the granite 
 Cape from north to south ; by Chapin's Rock and 
 
 Gully, the former at low tide half in the water, 
 the latter a great notch cut into the shore of solid 
 granite where it is highest and boldest ; by Ocean 
 Bluff, the outermost footing of Andrews' Point, 
 the farthest Cape Ann projection toward England ; 
 thence around Hoop Pole Cove to the Old Cedar ; 
 and so by Cedar Avenue, Phillips Avenue, and 
 Ocean Avenue — where the Salvages are seen as 
 a brooch on the bosom of the sea — back to the 
 place of setting out. 
 
 At the going down of the sun many walk the 
 3* 
 
58 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 little distance on the old road of the village to Sun- 
 set Rock in the Babson pasture. Here the specta- 
 cle of the setting sun, and of the colors that slowly 
 fade while the evening's shades are falling, is the 
 more than reward for strollingj; a few rods. Re- 
 turning, Strawberry Hill is climbed. Here Straits- 
 mouth and Thatcher's lights on the right, and 
 Ipswich and Newburyport lights on the left, are 
 almost equally distinctly seen ; and far over the 
 waves the eye catches the gleam, appearing regu- 
 larly every few minutes, of the Isles of Shoals 
 revolving light. Those who are vigorous enough 
 for the ramble go to Halibut Point, following the 
 shore from Andrews' Point around Hoop Pole 
 Cove, or by the way of the village road and Cap- 
 tain Gott's Lane ; or go to Folly Cove, and Folly 
 Point, and the Willows , and thence return by 
 Jumper's Lane, and by a footpath through the 
 woods to Edmunds and Lane's quarry, and then 
 by a quarry-road leading to the village in the rear 
 of Overlook, the Old House, and Edmunds's Hall ; 
 or go to the top of Pigeon Hill by the lane ascend- 
 ing from Mr. Eames's house, or through the woods 
 in a footpath on the northern side of this elevation ; 
 or go to the wood-sheltered home of the Knutsfords 
 by the carriage way of the Old House, and by 
 grass-covered cart-paths and footpaths the rest of 
 the distance ; or go to the quarries on the west 
 and on the south side of Pigeon Hill, by quarry- 
 roads, in the shade of a young and thrifty forest 
 
WALKS AND RAMBLES. 59 
 
 all the way ; or go to the Moving Rock in the rear 
 of Lanesville, half way to Annisquam, through the 
 woods. This curiosity is a boulder of perhaps 
 eighty tons, — so poised on a ledge just appear- 
 ing above the sward that when pushed against by 
 the shoulders of a man, or pressed by a man's 
 weight upon it, first on one side and then on the 
 other, as one would rock a boat, it will perceptibly 
 vibrate. Under extraordinary pressure its oscilla- 
 tions are seen many yards off. Leaving the Moving 
 Rock, the ramble is continued to Annisquam. or to 
 the head of Goose Cove, an inlet of Squam River ; 
 and thence by an old wood-road to Rockport, and 
 thus again to Pigeon Cove. Sometimes ramblers, 
 who know the highest and purest enjoyment of 
 rambling, spend day after day in the woods, pur- 
 posely losing themselves in the complexity of inter- 
 secting paths to get the surprises here and there 
 of new views of the sea, and of old views too, 
 frequently not recognized as familiar till the 
 maze of the forest is left behind. In a sunny 
 opening they pick berries, while the pigeons prate 
 on the limbs of the nearest pines, and the " che- 
 wink " and scratching of the ground-robin come 
 to their ear from the dry leaves beneath the sur- 
 rounding underbrush. Ascending a knoll where 
 the golden dust of the sun is sifting through the 
 tops of the beeches, they see the ruffed grouse 
 stepping lightly in the path, and hear the sudden 
 whirr of his wings as he flies into the hemlocks 
 
60 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 across a swale thick with alders and brambles. 
 Sitting upon a rock in the shade of a group of oaks 
 to rest, they listen to the singing of a score of red- 
 eyed vireos in the clumps of 3 r oung maples and 
 birches at hand. Climbing a towering ledge and 
 overlooking the tops of the trees around its base, 
 they see the silver of a lakelet walled in by hills ; 
 and from a higher point, looking farther, they dis- 
 cern miles on miles of rocky pasture, and sheep 
 and cattle scattered grazing, or in the shade of 
 boulders chewing the cud. Approaching the low- 
 lands, where the blueberries are found, or the 
 rarely explored mysteries of Brier Swamp, they see 
 the forms of children moving in the thickets, and 
 hear voices rising upon the air, indicative of care- 
 less mirth and freedom from restraint and fear. 
 At length, unknowingly nearing home, their at- 
 tention is attracted by the clinking of a thousand 
 drills and the sounding blows of a thousand ham- 
 mers. Soon they see the derricks above the low 
 trees, the sparkle of the sea through the network 
 of the foliage, the busy workmen themselves in pit 
 and shed, and finally the whole fair prospect of 
 village and ocean and scores of sails. 
 
 T. TV. Higginson pays a fine compliment to 
 the foot-paths of our Cape in one of his " Atlantic 
 Monthly " papers. " What can Hawthorne mean," 
 he says, " by saying in his English diary that an 
 American would never understand the passage in 
 Bunyan about Christian and Hopeful going astray 
 
WALKS AND E AMBLES. 61 
 
 along a by-path into the grounds of Giant Despair, 
 from there being no stiles and by-paths in our 
 country ? So much of the charm of American 
 pedestrianism lies in the by-paths ! For instance, 
 the whole interior of Cape Ann, beyond Glouces- 
 ter, is a continuous woodland, with granite ledges 
 everywhere cropping out, around which the high- 
 road winds, following the curving and indented 
 line of the sea, and dotted here and there with 
 fishing hamlets. This whole interior is traversed 
 by a network of foot-paths, rarely passable for 
 any wagon, and not always for a horse, but ena- 
 bling the pedestrian to go from any one of these 
 villages to any other, in a line almost direct, and 
 always under an agreeable shade. By the longest 
 of these hidden ways one may go from Pigeon 
 Cove to Gloucester without seeing a public road. 
 In the little inn of the former village there used to 
 hang an old map of this whole forest region, giv- 
 ing a chart of some of these paths which were said 
 to date back to the first settlement of the coun- 
 try. One of them, for instance, was called ' Old 
 Road from Sandy Bay to Squam Meeting-house 
 through the Woods ; ' but the road is now scarcely 
 even a bridle-path, and the most faithful worship- 
 per could not seek Squam Meeting-house in the 
 family chaise. Those woods are at last being dev- 
 astated, but when I first knew that region it was 
 as good as any German forest. Often we stepped 
 almost from the edge of the sea into some gap in 
 
62 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 the woods ; there seemed hardly more than a 
 rabbit-track, but presently we met some wayfarer 
 who had crossed the Cape by it. A piny dell gave 
 some vista of the broad sea we were leaving, and 
 an opening in the woods displayed another blue 
 sea-line before ; the encountering breezes inter- 
 changed odors of berry-bushes and scent of brine ; 
 penetrating farther among oaks and walnuts, we 
 came upon some little cottage, quaint and shel- 
 tered as any Spenser drew ; it was built on no 
 high-road, and turned its vine-clad gable aw^ay 
 from even the foot-path. Then the ground rose 
 and other breezes came ; perhaps we climbed trees 
 to look for landmarks, and saw only, still farther 
 in the woods, some great cliff of granite or the 
 derrick of an unseen, quarry. Three miles inland, 
 as I remember, we found the hearth-stones of a 
 vanished settlement ; then we passed a swamp 
 with cardinal flowers ; then a cathedral of noble 
 pines, topped with crows' nests. If we had not 
 gone astray, by this time we presently emerged on 
 Dogtown Common, an elevated table-land over- 
 spread with great boulders as with houses, and 
 encircled with a girdle of green woods and an outer 
 girdle of blue sea. I know of nothing like that 
 gray waste of boulders ; it is a natural Salisbury 
 Plain, of which icebergs and ocean currents were 
 the Druidic builders ; the multitude of couchant 
 monsters give one a sense of suspended life ; you 
 feel that they must speak and answer each other 
 
WALKS AND RAMBLES. 63 
 
 in the silent nights ; bnt by day only the wander- 
 ing sea-birds seek them on their way across the 
 Cape, and the sweet-bay and green fern imbed 
 them in a softer and deeper setting as the years go 
 by. This is the " height of ground " of that wild 
 foot-path; but, as you recede farther from the 
 outer ocean and approach Gloucester, you come 
 upon still wilder ledges, unsafe without a guide; 
 and you find in one place a cluster of deserted 
 houses, too difficult of access to remove even their 
 materials, so that they are left to moulder alone. 
 I used to wander in those woods summer after 
 summer, till I had made my own chart of their de- 
 vious tracks, and now when I close my eyes in this 
 Oldport mid-summer, the soft Italian air takes on 
 something of a Scandinavian vigor ; for the inces- 
 sant roll of carriages, I hear the tinkle of the 
 quarryman's hammer, and the veerj^s song, and 
 I long for those perfumed and breezy pastures, 
 and for those promontories of granite where the 
 fresh water is nectar and the salt sea has a regal 
 blue.'" 
 
 Before dropping the subject in hand, a few images 
 in the memory should be presented. Reverting to 
 the walks and rambles of the summers long since 
 departed, royal companions reappear to the vision. 
 One of these was Thomas Starr King. Who of 
 the compan} r that used to ramble with him will 
 ever set foot on our shore, or hear the stir of leaves 
 and the twitter of birds in our woods, without a 
 
64 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 thought of him ? Sometimes the ramblers rested 
 an hour in the shade of the pines where the sleep- 
 ing sea, whispering as if in dreams, just made itself 
 heard. Then he of youthful but regal presence, 
 and of marvellously musical tongue, read the poe- 
 try of Wordsworth or the prose of Ruskin, making 
 more vital and glowing the thoughts of either. 
 Once, after a stroll, and a refreshing bath, the 
 same audience gave ear to the same orator and 
 interpreter, in the amphitheatre-like pit of Cha- 
 pin's Gully. None of the company so favored then 
 will ever forget the spell of the moments while he 
 recited the stirring, musical lines, then new to all, 
 of Tennyson's " Bugle Song." These woods, rocks 
 and waves, these men with swelling hearts and 
 tearful eyes, will never again see the like of him 
 who is now among the translated. 
 
 : Break, break, break, 
 
 On thy cold gray stones, Sea ! 
 And I would that my tongue could utter 
 
 The thoughts that arise in me. 
 
 Oh well for the fisherman's boy, 
 
 That he shouts with his sister at play ! 
 
 Oh well for the sailor lad, 
 
 That he sings in his boat on the bay ! 
 
 And the stately ships go on 
 To their haven under the hill ; 
 
 But oh for the touch of a vanish'd hand, 
 And the sound of a voice that is still 1 
 
WALKS AND RAMBLES. 65 
 
 Break, break, break, 
 
 At the foot of thy crags, Sea ! 
 But the tender grace of a day that is dead 
 
 Will never come back to me." 
 
 Magician of the sea as well as of the mountains, 
 Starr King found means for enchantment in cliff 
 and wave, in storm and calm. No change of mo- 
 tion or color on the ocean's face escaped his sight. 
 He observed every shape and hue of mist on the 
 headlands, or of cloud in the sky. He marked, 
 too, the characteristics of seafaring men and of 
 old dwellers on the storm-beaten shore. The old 
 English words, not obsolete here, and the uncon- 
 ventional frankness of these children of the Cape, 
 afforded him material for both grave reflection and 
 keen amusement. " When did you come into the 
 cove with these hake? " inquired he of one stand- 
 ing knee-deep in the water, taking these fish from 
 his dory, as the result of his industry through the 
 night. "About dawning," was the ready reply ; 
 and a pleasing one to the questioner, though given 
 in the style of pronunciation not authorized by 
 Worcester or Webster. His humor, always sunny, 
 never sombre, always kindly, never unfriendly, 
 quickly caught and had its fun with quaintness. 
 He named one, whom he often met, the " Poet of 
 the Cove ; " another, the " Socrates of Cape Ann." 
 The Poet's " Lines to a Blue Jay in the Winter " 
 brought out the inimitable smile of his face and 
 
66 PTGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 eye, and the merry tones of his laughter. These 
 were the first four : — 
 
 " The jay, he came with his blue back, 
 And his long forked bill, 
 And to a granary he hied, 
 All for to get his fill." 
 
 The blunt observations of the Philosopher often 
 won his applause. Sometimes this man of Socratic 
 plainness made a single verb solve a matter not yet 
 explained. For example, when asked to account 
 for the fact that the days of summer are longer 
 than the days of winter, in agreement with the 
 theory that the earth revolves around the sun, he 
 promptly answered, " Fool, don't you know that 
 the earth wabbles?" At another time, describ- 
 ing the eloquence of Rufus Choate, and with 
 what ease for effect this pleader could use the 
 muscles of his face, he said, " The cant of his 
 countenance drew tears from everybody's eyes." 
 Encounters with this sage, who was in no degree 
 bound by the conventionalities of polite society, 
 but who withal had a kind heart, and was often 
 benevolent in deed, frequently to the witty and 
 brilliant young clergyman was something more 
 and better than a pleasant pastime. The latter 
 engaged in talk with the self-taught Philosopher 
 with unusual zest, liking him because he was kin 
 to Bryant's " genial optimist," — the " white-haired 
 ancient," who was not only " pithy of speech," 
 but " merry when he would." 
 
WALKS AND RAMBLES. 67 
 
 Another image, — the venerable Dr. Gannett, 
 strong, positive, earnest, often vehement, but in 
 the drift of his life sweet and winning. However 
 severe he may have seemed to some when he was 
 called to do the grave and honest work of preach- 
 ing God's uncompromising word, he was one of 
 the wisest, gentlest, and kindest of the many who 
 came summer after summer to sojourn here, — the 
 presiding joy-evoking, mirth-inspiring genius of 
 social gatherings and simple pastimes. 
 
 Others, still of the living on the earth, are not 
 forgotten ; nor are the occasions on which they 
 were prominent actors. Kev. J. F. Clarke, on a 
 fine Sunday morning, beneath the broad canopy of 
 an ancient oak, preaching, in the most eloquent 
 because in the most simple and natural manner, to 
 a circle of attentive and deeply moved men and 
 women seated around him on the sward ; and Dr. 
 E. II. Chapin and Rev. J. G. Adams, one after 
 the other, addressing a gathering of hundreds at 
 even-tide on the rocks bordering the sea. These 
 living shapes stay near our woods and on our 
 shores. Their voices for ever blend with the 
 breathings of the forest and with the utterances 
 of the sea. 
 
 The following lines, entitled " Sabbath Even- 
 ing by the Sea," were written at the closing 
 hour of the "day of days," on one of the great 
 rocks of our shore, in July, 1851, by Rev. J. G. 
 Adams. 
 
68 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 " Alone, my God, alone with thee, 
 
 At this bright Sabbath evening hour, 
 Where the strong voices of the sea 
 
 Declare thy greatness and thy power ! 
 I have been in thy courts to-day, 
 
 Where mortals meet, thy name to bless, 
 And where with one accord they pay 
 
 Their homage to thy holiness. 
 Now to these outer courts I come, 
 
 Alone at this rock-altar, Lord, 
 Beneath this ample evening dome, 
 
 To hear thee speak thy wondrous word. 
 That word the waves are uttering clear, 
 
 In their full accents at my feet, 
 While notes of woodland warblers near 
 
 Are with thy glorious name replete. 
 On sunlit spire, and roof, and shore, 
 
 And sail that stains the dark, blue sea, 
 And red horizon spread out o'er 
 
 That emblem of eternity, — 
 I read thy brightness, God of love, 
 
 And in this matchless temple raise 
 Anew my feeble thought above, 
 
 In silent evening prayer and praise : 
 
 Thy mercies to my soul extend, 
 
 Whose strength is nought without thy power 
 Loved ones and dear from ill defend, 
 
 And draw to thee, at this blest hour. 
 To friend and foe thy peace be given ; 
 
 The weak make strong, the simple wise, 
 Be to the poorest wealth of heaven, 
 
 To lameness strength, to blindness eyes. 
 As sheds the sun its rays divine 
 
 O'er hill and shore and widening sea, 
 So may thy truth in mercy shine, 
 
 Wherever man on earth may be. 
 As flow these everlasting waves, 
 
 Bearers of life from shore to shore, 
 
CARRIAGE-KIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 69 
 
 So may that grace which seeks and saves 
 
 Flow full and free the wide world o'er ; 
 Till in this temple, all thine own, 
 
 No soul shall false or faithless be ; 
 But man's heart-worship at thy throne 
 
 Complete the world's great harmony ! " 
 
 CARRIAGE RIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 
 
 THE "FARM" HOUSE. 
 
 The large division of our Cape east of Squam 
 River being an island, " the ride round the Cape," 
 as the fifteen mile circuit of the high-road here is 
 called, whether by the way of Folly Cove, Lanes- 
 ville, Bay View, and Annisquam, or, in the opposite 
 direction, by the way of Rockport, Great Hill, and 
 Beaver Dam, commands water- views almost the 
 whole distance. If the choice be to ride in the lat- 
 ter direction, the water-views are on the left hand, 
 and, till the top of Great Hill is reached are 
 
70 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 mainly those which are within sight of every home 
 at Pigeon Cove. From the top of Great Hill the 
 blue line of Massachusetts Bay is seen stretching 
 southward beyond where the forest-covered ridges, 
 toward Little Good Harbor Beach, seem to meet 
 the horizon. On the right of this hill-top point of 
 observation are the steeps and hollows near, and 
 the valley and elevations beyond, thickly strewn 
 with the boulders which occasioned the conversa- 
 tion many years ago between the astonished visitor 
 from the country, and the stage-driver then on the 
 road. " Where did they get the stones of which 
 these walls were built ? " asked the stranger. 
 " Why, don't you see stones enough everywhere 
 about here ? " responded the awakened native. 
 " Yes," rejoined the stranger, " but who has ever 
 missed any?" Descending the steep southern 
 slope of the hill, and passing the farm buildings 
 and the fields of Beaver Dam, encircled by stony 
 and woody ridges, and the old road to Dogtown on 
 the southern border of the cultivated acres, the 
 meadow where the beavers in the olden time built 
 their dam, and lived unmolested in their curious 
 habitations, is seen as the site of new industrial 
 works erected by the hands of man. Continuing 
 southward in the shade of trees over the line 
 between Rockport and Gloucester, and then over a 
 little ascent, farm-houses toward the coast appear ; 
 and down a narrow carriage-way, leading from 
 the main road and these scattered dwellings to 
 
CARRIAGE-RIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 71 
 
 the sea-sicle, Little Good Harbor Beach, Salt 
 Island, and Bass Rocks are disclosed. Ascending 
 another elevation, the roof of John J. Babson's 
 pleasant home, on the slope descending to the 
 beach, shows itself above the fruit-trees of culti- 
 vated, and the dense growth of trees and shrubs 
 of uncultivated grounds. On the summit of this 
 ascent a huge, dark rock rises from a broad base in 
 the earth to a great height, making a grand object 
 on Mr. Babson's background, or for the study or 
 the wonder of the traveller on the road winding 
 round it. Moving onward, the habitations scattered 
 along denote the nearness of Gloucester Harbor. 
 Toward the great Bay, near Bass Rocks, there is a 
 cluster of new abodes. From the elevated point 
 of this pretty neighborhood, a rocky ridge extends 
 to Eastern Point light. On the right of the road, 
 higher and more rugged than this ridge of Eastern 
 Point, rises the ridge of which Lookout Hill is a 
 noticeable feature. Entering the village, the head 
 of the harbor is almost touched by the carriage 
 wheels. Then it is a long, winding way through 
 the unique village of buildings above buildings, 
 overtopped by school-houses and churches, on one 
 side ; and dwellings, stores, store-houses, wharves, 
 and fishing-vessels, on the other; and across the 
 harbor, on Eastern Point, the growing counterpart 
 of fishing-vessels, wharves, store-houses, stores, and 
 houses above houses on the ridofe. 
 
 Whether the ride continue from the Custom 
 
72 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 House and Post-office building through Front 
 Street, the principal street of business, or Middle 
 Street, the fine street of churches, and off from 
 which but a few yards the Town House stands, 
 the inference of the observer, from objects attract- 
 ing his attention on either hand, will be that the 
 old town has kept pace with the other towns 
 on the Massachusetts coast in maritime enter- 
 prise, and in intellectual and religious progress. 
 Though, like Salem, Gloucester has lost her old 
 importance in commerce, she also, like Salem, 
 has made amends for her loss in new ways of 
 effort on sea and on land. And as to her advance- 
 ment and leadership in the march of spiritual 
 freedom, her distinction is honorable and univer- 
 sally acknowledged. It is not surprising that, 
 in the past days of superstition and fear, she 
 was affected, as were other places not far distant, 
 by dark beliefs and bewildering or harrowing fan- 
 cies. She was not alone in her dread of super- 
 natural foes, as none of the places of the earth 
 to-day are alone in error and wandering. 
 
 In his History of the Cape, Mr. Babson refers to 
 the period of "the Salem tragedy." He says that 
 although then "our people were drawn into no 
 very intimate connection " with it, yet " they were 
 not saved from great excitement and alarm." 
 " About midsummer, 1692," he adds, " Ebenezer 
 Babson and others of his family, almost every 
 night, heard a noise as if persons were going and 
 
CARRIAGE-EIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 73 
 
 running about his house. One night, on his return 
 home at a late hour, he saw two men come out of 
 the house and go into the corn. He also heard 
 them say, 4 The man of the house is come now, else 
 we might have taken the house.' The whole 
 family went immediately to the garrison, which 
 was near, whither the two men followed. They 
 were heard and seen about the garrison several 
 nights. One day Babson saw two men who looked 
 like Frenchmen ; and at another time six men 
 were near the garrison, whereupon several went 
 in pursuit. Babson overtook two, and tried to 
 shoot at them ; but his gun missed fire. Soon 
 after, he saw three men together, one of whom had 
 on a white waistcoat. He fired, and they all fell ; 
 but, as soon as he came close to them, they all rose 
 up and ran away, one of them discharging a gun 
 as he went. One of these strange beings was at 
 last surrounded by his pursuers, and all means of 
 escape were cut off. He approached Babson, who 
 shot at him as he was getting over the fence, and 
 saw him fall from it to the ground ; but, when 
 Babson came to the spot where he fell, the man 
 could not be found. Afterwards several were 
 seen lurking about the garrison, and great dis- 
 coursing in an unknown tongue was heard in a 
 swamp near. After this, men were seen, who 
 were supposed to be French and Indians. Babson 
 was fired upon on his way to the harbor to carry 
 news ; and finally, after enduring these disturbers 
 4 
 
74 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 of the peace of the town for a fortnight, the people 
 sent abroad for help. July 18, sixty men arrived 
 from Ipswich to assist in the protection of the 
 town, and the deliverance of it from these myste- 
 rious invaders ; but it does not appear that any 
 of the latter were taken, which can scarcely be a 
 matter of surprise considering that they were too 
 ethereal to leave a footprint upon the soft and 
 miry places over which they were pursued." 
 
 " All these occurrences," says Mr. Babson, " and 
 many others, were reported by the minister of 
 the town to Rev. Cotton Mather, and were pub- 
 lished in his ' Magnalia.' " The poet Whittier, 
 having also read the strange story in the " Mag- 
 nalia," sings it in the following ballad : — 
 
 "From the hills of home forth looking, far beneath the tent-like 
 
 span 
 Of the sky, I see the white gleam of the headland of Cape Ann. 
 Well I know its coves and beaches to the ebb-tide glimmering 
 
 down, 
 And the white-walled hamlet children of its ancient fishing-town. 
 
 Long has passed the summer morning, and its memory waxes old, 
 When along yon breezy headlands with a pleasant friend I strolled. 
 Ah ! the autumn sun is shining, and the ocean wind blows cool, 
 And the golden-rod and aster bloom around thy grave, Rantoul ! 
 
 With the memory of that morning by the summer sea, I blend 
 
 A wild and wondrous story by the younger Mather penned, 
 
 In that quaint Magnalia Christi, with all strange and marvellous 
 
 things, 
 Heaped up huge and undigested, like the chaos Ovid sings. 
 
CARBIAGE-BIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 75 
 
 Where the sea-waves back and forward, hoarse with rolling pebbles, 
 
 ran, 
 The garrison-house stood watching on the gray rocks of Cape Ann ; 
 On its windy site uplifting gabled roof and palisade, 
 And rough walls of unhewn timber with the moonlight overlaid. 
 
 On his slow round walked the sentry, south and eastward looking 
 
 forth 
 O'er the rude and broken coast-line, white with breakers stretching 
 
 north, — 
 Wood and rock and gleaming sand-drift, jagged capes, with bush 
 
 and tree 
 Leaning inland from the smiting of the wild and gusty sea. 
 
 Before the deep-mouthed chimney, dimly lit by dying brands, 
 Twenty soldiers sat and waited, with their muskets in their hands ; 
 On the rough-hewn oaken table the venison haunch was shared, 
 And the pewter tankard circled slowly round from beard to beard. 
 
 Long they sat and talked together, — talked of wizards Satan- 
 sold ; 
 Of all ghostly sights and noises, — signs and wonders manifold; 
 Of the spectre-ship of Salem, with the dead men in her shrouds, 
 Sailing sheer above the water, in the loom of morning clouds ; 
 
 Of the marvellous valley hidden in the depths of Gloucester 
 woods, 
 
 Full of plants that love the summer, — blooms of warmer lati- 
 tudes ; 
 
 Where the Arctic birch is braided by the Tropic's flowery vines, 
 
 And the white magnolia-blossoms star the twilight of the pines ! 
 
 But their voices sank yet lower, sank to husky tones of fear, 
 As they spoke of present tokens of the powers of evil near ; 
 Of a spectral host, defying stroke of steel and aim of gun ; 
 Never yet was ball to slay them in the mould of mortals run ! 
 
76 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Thrice, with plumes and flowing scalp-locks, from the midnight 
 wood they came, — 
 
 Thrice around the block-house marching, met unharmed its vol- 
 leyed flame. 
 
 Then with mocking laugh and gesture, sunk in earth or lost in air, 
 
 All the ghostly wonder vanished, and the moonlit sands lay bare. 
 
 Midnight came ; from out the forest moved a dusky mass, that 
 
 soon 
 Grew to warriors plumed and painted, grimly marching in the 
 
 moon. 
 ' Ghosts of witches/ said the captain, ' thus I foil the Evil One ! ' 
 And he rammed a silver button from his doublet down his gun. 
 
 Once again the spectral horror moved the guarded wall about ; 
 Once again the levelled muskets through the palisades flashed out, 
 With that deadly aim the squirrel on his tree-top might not shun, 
 Nor the beach-bird seaward flying with his slant wing to the sun. 
 
 Like the idle rain of summer sped the harmless shower of lead. 
 With a laugh of fierce derision, once again the phantoms fled; 
 Once again without a shadow on the sands the moonlight lay, 
 And the white smoke curling through it drifted slowly down the 
 bay ! 
 
 ' God preserve us ! ' said the captain, ' never mortal foes were 
 
 there ; 
 They have vanished with their leader, Prince and Power of the 
 
 air! 
 Lay aside your useless weapons ; skill and prowess naught avail ; 
 They who do the Devil's service wear their master's coat-of-mail ! ' 
 
 So the night grew near to cock-crow, when again a warning call 
 Roused the score of weary soldiers watching round the dusky hall : 
 And they looked to flint and priming, and they longed for break 
 
 of day ; 
 But the captain closed his Bible : ' Let us cease from man, and 
 
 pray ! ' 
 
CARRIAGE-RIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 77 
 
 To the men who went before us all the unseen powers seemed 
 
 near, 
 And their steadfast strength and courage struck its roots in holy 
 
 fear. 
 Every hand forsook the musket, every head was bowed and bare, 
 Every stout knee pressed the flagstones as the captain led in 
 
 prayer. 
 
 Ceased thereat the mystic marching of the spectres round the 
 
 wall, 
 But a sound abhorred, unearthly, smote the ears and hearts of 
 
 all,— 
 Howls of rage and shrieks of anguish ! Never after mortal man 
 Saw the ghostly leaguers marching round the block-house of 
 
 Cape Ann." 
 
 Another Gloucester story of marvel, which from 
 a later date (1745, the year of the expedition 
 against Louisburg) has been repeated to the pres- 
 ent time, is thus related by Mr. Babson : — 
 
 "No account of the part borne by Gloucester 
 in the expedition to Louisburg would be complete 
 without the story of Peg Wesson. The popular 
 belief in witchcraft had not then ceased, and Peg 
 was reputed a witch. She lived in or near an old 
 building on Back Street, called the Garrison ; and 
 there, just before the departure of the Gloucester 
 soldiers for Cape Breton, she was visited by some 
 of them, who, by their conduct towards her, 
 aroused her indignation to such a pitch, that, on 
 their departure, she threatened them with ven- 
 geance at Louisburg. While in camp there, these 
 men had then: attention arrested by the singular 
 
78 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 movements of a crow that kept hovering near 
 them. After many attempts had been made in the 
 usual way to kill the bird, it occurred to one of 
 them that it must be Peg Wesson ; and, if so, that 
 no baser metal than silver would bring her to the 
 ground. He accordingly took his silver sleeve- 
 buttons from his wrist and discharged them at the 
 bird, which fell wounded in the leg and was soon 
 killed. Upon their return to Gloucester, they 
 learned that, at the exact moment when the crow 
 was killed. Peg Wesson fell down near the Garri- 
 son House with a broken leg ; and that, when the 
 fractured limb was examined, the identical sleeve- 
 buttons fired at the crow under the walls of Louis- 
 burg were found, and extracted from the wound ! 
 Such is the story of Peg Wesson. And, incredible 
 as it may seem that it ever was received as truth, 
 some now living can testify to the apparent belief 
 in it with which it was related by many persons 
 not more than fifty years ago." 
 
 Leaving the fine old town, and winding or zig- 
 zagging homeward on the Squam River side of 
 the circuit, the river soon shows its mirror-like 
 surface or its innumerable sparkling waves. Near 
 the Green where once the Meeting-house of the 
 old Town Parish stood is the ancient house, with 
 rear roof descending lower than the front, which 
 was built and occupied by the minister of the 
 parish, Rev. John White, soon after his settlement, 
 in 1702. The road leads through Riverdale, near- 
 
CARRIAGE-RLDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 79 
 
 ing the brook from Cape Pond which flows through 
 a lovely meadow into Tide-Mill Pond, and thence 
 into Mill River, an inlet from Squam River. Farm- 
 houses and green fields please the eye. Con- 
 spicuous among the farms is the Pearce Farm, 
 lying between the road and the brook and mill- 
 pond. The frame of the smaller of the two barns 
 near the house is that of the church which was 
 erected for Rev. John Murray by the people 
 to whom he ministered. The frame was taken 
 from the old site at the harbor, corner of Spring 
 and Water Streets, in 1805. Pole's Hill — a steep 
 hill of stone, overlooking road, farm-houses, fields, 
 meadow, and brook at its base, and a wide area 
 of land, river, and sea around — is a sufficiently 
 novel form among the thousands of ledges and 
 cliffs on our granite promontory to tarry by and 
 examine awhile. Proceeding from Pole's Hill 
 across Tide-Mill Bridge, and then up from the 
 valley through the village, passing a church, to an 
 altitude at which most of the smaller branches as 
 well as the main tides of Squam River are com- 
 prehended by the eye, one of the most charming 
 prospects of the Cape is surveyed. The white 
 caps of Ipswich Bay are nodding like the plumes 
 of a mighty host in the northern distance. The 
 hoar sand of Coffin's Beach, and the blue, green, 
 and amber of Squam River, near its mouth, shim- 
 mer in the sun's burning rays. The village of 
 Annisquam nestles on its narrow strip of earth 
 
80 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 between Lobster Cove in front and the high steep 
 ridge behind, screening it from the storms of the 
 Ba}r. Approaching this cosey and qniet village, 
 the eye turns southward, attracted by the splendor 
 of the river, with its many coves and creeks ; the 
 glowing red of the crags, jutting from island and 
 point; and the chocolate and emerald of reedy 
 shore and grass-covered marsh. " All these coves 
 and inlets," as one not long since remarked, in a 
 metropolitan sheet, " make the scenery bewilder- 
 ing in beauty ; and the six-mile drive over the neck 
 of the Cape, from Gloucester to General Butler's 
 house, which stands on a lofty bluff where its every 
 window commands a perfect sea-picture, is across 
 a rocky road which lies so high, and with such a 
 wilderness of meadows in every shade of vivid 
 greens and rusty reds, interspersed with glittering 
 arms of the sea, and still, silver lagoons of salt 
 water, reflecting and repeating the sky, that one 
 almost feels in a land of sorcery, travelling a road 
 that hangs midway between earth and heaven." 
 A little onward, and a tide-mill and the bridge 
 crossing Goose Cove are passed. Still further, and 
 the choice is presented to drive over the bridge 
 spanning Lobster Cove to the village of Annis- 
 quam, or more directly toward home, on the pine- 
 bordered way, on the east side of this long, 
 river-like inlet, to the church at its head. Near 
 the church, the view down the Cove and across the 
 river to the marsh, and then to the gray hills, and 
 
CARRIAGE-RIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 81 
 
 to the dark woods beyond, in the West Parish, is 
 worthy of many minutes' delay. There should be 
 no haste on a tour of pleasure. Moving again, the 
 next point of interest is Bay View, and is presently 
 gained. On the bluff off the road, just as it 
 descends into the hollow of Hogkins's Cove, are 
 the handsome residences of General Butler and 
 Colonel French. In the hollow of the Cove are 
 the buildings, wharves and vessels of the Cape 
 Ann Granite Company. From this point to Plum 
 Cove (so named for the beach plums once in 
 abundance growing near it, but now seldom found), 
 the distance is but over one broad-backed ridge. 
 Here is a pretty beach, and a stretch for the 
 vision across Ipswich Bay to the main-land coast. 
 Another elevation ascended, and the dwellings of 
 Lanesville, which are strung along on the winding 
 way nearly a mile, are passed. Here there is an 
 artificial harbor for small vessels, and extensive 
 granite quarries. Moreover, from half the length 
 of the village, the grounds, chiefly cultivated, grad- 
 ually descend to the shore of the bay ; and so for 
 this distance the view of the water is unbroken. 
 Some of the quarries are at the roadside. Back 
 of the quarries are dark woods. From Lanesville 
 to Folly Cove the road shears the edge of a little 
 meadow, cuts a belt of woods, which from the 
 forest of the Cape's interior extends to the ocean's 
 strand, and at the same point passes through a 
 long and beautiful arch of willows. This arch is 
 
 4* F 
 
82 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 the admiration and joy of the hundreds who every 
 midsummer pass through it and enjoy its shade. 
 From the Willows into the sheltered and shady 
 dale of Folly Cove, it is but a few rods by a group 
 of houses veiled in part by fruit-trees, ancient wil- 
 lows, and shrubbery. This dale, which is the centre- 
 ground of the little village, since dwellings straggle 
 over the ascents hemming it in, is the loveliest se- 
 questered nest of the whole route. A fine grove 
 on its background fills the space from ridge to 
 ridge. A brooklet flows through the mowing 
 between the grove and the road, and under the 
 road, and then through another field of grass and 
 clover into the Cove. The tidy and comfortable 
 houses stand embowered with apple-trees and 
 lilacs. The vista to the sea is first narrow, and 
 then wider between rocl^y headlands. Through 
 it the villagers see the play and the terror of the 
 waves, the awful force of the storm, and the peace 
 and beauty of the calm. Ascending from this spot 
 of quiet and repose, where tree and ocean, and 
 waves and roses, all but touch each other, the eye 
 sees before it another and higher elevation. The 
 road with many curves leads over it, separating 
 Halibut Point from inland meadow, pasture, and 
 wood. Climbing the road, the " Old Oaks " of 
 the pasture, the " Meadow " below them, and 
 " Sunset Rock " above them, give their silent but 
 eloquent salutations as the kindliest of friends. 
 The farm-house and barns on the opposite side of 
 
CARRIAGE-RIDES, LEGENDS AND BALLADS. 83 
 
 the way, with their surroundings of field, garden, 
 and orchard, and their adornings of elms and of 
 flowering vines, are a grouping of things in accord 
 with each other, within a rare region of land and 
 
 ocean, which no artist would wish to change. 
 Finally, from the "Farm" to Pigeon Cove is the 
 last and pleasantest stage of " the ride round 
 the Cape." Sometimes it is on the old road, to 
 the grand sea views and to the merry welcome of 
 home. Sometimes a detour, near Strawberry Hill, 
 determines the last step homeward shall be over 
 Phillips Avenue, with the unequalled ocean view 
 on one side, and the varied beauty of oaks and 
 pines, climbing brambles, pasture-lilies, and wild 
 roses on the other. Either way is a fine and 
 cheerful ending of a circuit which, for various 
 and unique scenery, and the blending of rural and 
 marine characteristics, cannot be paralleled. 
 
84 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY, 
 
 RIDE TO LITTLE GOOD HARBOR BEACH AND 
 EASTERN POINT. 
 
 Not unfrequently the ride of the circle is 
 branched by digressions. One of these is to Little 
 Good Harbor Beach ; and thence, if the tide be 
 low, over the Eastern Point road to Eastern 
 Point lighthouse. Epes Sargent says the name 
 of the beach was given by an Indian, whose col- 
 lection of English words was small. By " little 
 good " he meant bad. But the beach is wide and 
 clean, being exposed to the long lines of charg- 
 ing waves : is good from the same causes that 
 made the anchorage, in periods of rough weather, 
 bad. The Eastern Point road being; on hi oh 
 ground, it commands at the same time a fine view 
 of Gloucester and its excellent harbor, and a 
 
RIDE TO KAFE S CHASM. 
 
 85 
 
 splendid prospect of Massachusetts Bay, its vessels, 
 rocks, islands, and portions of its distant South 
 Shore. At the lighthouse the vision adds other 
 views to its new list, taking in Norman's Woe, 
 Baker's Island, Lowell Island, the promontory of 
 Marblehead, and far up the bay, between the 
 north shore of this headland and the south shore 
 of Cape Ann, the city of Salem. 
 
 RIDE TO RATE'S CHASM AND NORMAN'S WOE. 
 
 NORMAN'S WOE. 
 
 Another digression from the ride round the 
 Cape is from Gloucester by the way of the Cut, 
 Stage Rocks, and Steep Bank, to Rafe's Chasm 
 and Norman's Woe. From the Cut is followed a 
 little way the old road to Salem. A long hill is 
 climbed. Near the top dense woods allow but 
 glimpses of cottages and mansions wrapped in 
 shade. Descending the western side of the hill, 
 
86 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 and at its base curving to easily pass a spur of the 
 wood-clad ridge on the right, the road traverses 
 the romantic region of Fresh Water Cove and 
 Magnolia. Here an old path, running from the 
 main road diagonally, leads to a high shore of 
 pitch-pine shrubs. At this point are seen the won- 
 drous Chasm, the bold, craggy shore of Norman's 
 Woe, and a little off from shore the rock island of 
 Norman's Woe. 
 
 RAFES CHASM. 
 
 Rafe's Chasm extends into the ledge from the 
 bay more than two hundred feet. Near the bay 
 it is ten feet wide. Toward its termination it is 
 irregular in width. From the highest part of its 
 walls to the lowest spot left bare when the tide is 
 out, its depth is about sixty feet. On a calm clay 
 this fissure in the jagged ledge gives an impression 
 of irresistible force, — of the Power that rules the 
 ocean, and that makes the earth to be at peace or 
 to toss and shake with mighty throes. On the day 
 of tempest, rushing into it violently, spouting spray 
 
EIDE TO NORMAN* S WOE. 87 
 
 many feet into the air, like hugest monsters of 
 the deep, and making a noise like the thunder 
 of the clouds, the waves reveal somewhat of the 
 might and terror which are hidden in the earth, 
 the air, and the sea, and incite the beholder and 
 listener to say : — 
 
 O Father ! — " who forgets not, at the sight 
 Of these tremendous tokens of thy power, 
 His pride, and lays his strifes and follies by ? 
 Oh, from these sterner aspects of thy face 
 Spare me and mine, nor let us need the wrath 
 Of the mad unchained elements to teach 
 Who rules them. Be it ours to meditate 1 
 
 In these calm shades thy milder majesty, 
 And to the beautiful order of thy works 
 Learn to conform the order of our lives." 
 
 Alluding to Norman's Woe, Mr. Babson says : 
 " It is a large rock lying a few rods from the shore, 
 and connected with it by a reef of rocks which the 
 sea leaves bare at low water. The tradition, that 
 a man named Norman was shipwrecked and lost 
 there, has no other confirmation than that derived 
 from the name itself. A William Norman was an 
 early settler of Manchester ; and a Richard Norman 
 is shown by the probate records of Essex County 
 to have sailed on a voyage from which he never 
 returned home, some time before 1682. The dole- 
 ful name applied to this spot may commemorate a 
 misfortune to one of these individuals." With less 
 hesitancy as to the credence to be given to the 
 tradition about this rock, Mr. Sargent says : — 
 
88 PIGEON COYE AND VICINITY. 
 
 " From the main shore cut off, and isolated 
 By the invading, the circumfluent waves, 
 A rock which time had made an island, spread 
 With a small patch of brine-defying herbage, 
 Is known as Norman's Woe ; for, on this rock, 
 Two hundred years ago, was Captain Norman, 
 In his good ship from England, driven and wrecked 
 In a wild storm, and every life was lost." 
 
 Having first the tradition, and next, connected 
 with the rock, the name, and finally the probate 
 record, there is something to apprehend. That the 
 probate record tells its story without detail may 
 not be regretted, since now there is scope for infer- 
 ence and conjecture ; or for the genius of the poet 
 to put in song all the particulars of an event not 
 alone in kind, in reasonable and pleasing order. 
 The carefulness of the historian is praiseworthy ; 
 but the vision of the poet often finds the essential 
 which is hidden in mystery. This the poet sings 
 in an ode or in a ballad ; and thus he makes a long- 
 ago and almost mythical event a grand or touching 
 lesson for his own generation, and the generations 
 to follow it. So Longfellow's " Wreck of the 
 Hesperus " may here have space, as a fitting sequel 
 of what others have said and sung of the Rock of 
 Norman's Woe : — 
 
 " It was the schooner Hesperus, 
 That sailed the wintry sea ; 
 And the skipper had taken his little daughter, 
 To bear him company. 
 
RIDE TO NORMAN'S WOE. 89 
 
 Blue were her eyes as the fairy -flax, 
 
 Her cheeks like the dawn of day, 
 And her bosom white as the hawthorn buds, 
 
 That ope in the month of May. 
 
 The skipper he stood beside the helm 
 
 With his pipe in his mouth, 
 And watched how the veering flaw did blow 
 
 The smoke, now west, now south. 
 
 Then up and spoke an old sailor 
 Had sailed the Spanish main, 
 ; I pray thee, put into yonder port, 
 For I fear a hurricane. 
 
 Last night the moon had a golden ring, 
 
 And to-night no moon we see ! ' 
 The skipper, he blew a whiff from his pipe, 
 
 And a scornful laugh laughed he. 
 
 Colder and louder blew the wind, 
 
 A gale from the north-east ; 
 The snow fell hissing in the brine, 
 
 And the billows frothed like yeast. 
 
 Down came the storm, and smote amain 
 
 The vessel in its strength; 
 She shuddered and paused like a frighted steed, 
 
 Then leaped her cable's length. 
 
 r Come hither ! come hither ! my little daughter, 
 
 And do not tremble so ; 
 For I can weather the roughest gale 
 
 That ever wind did blow.' 
 
 He wrapped her warm in his seaman's coat, 
 
 Against the stinging blast; 
 He cut a rope from a broken spar, 
 
 And bound her to the mast. 
 
90 PIGEON CO YE AND VICINITY. 
 
 ' father ! 1 hear the church-bells ring : 
 
 Oh, say, what may it be ? ' 
 4 'Tis a fog-bell on a rock-bound coast ! ' — 
 
 And he steered for the open sea. 
 
 ' father ! I hear the sound of guns : 
 
 Oh, say, what may it be 1 ' 
 ' Some ship in distress, that cannot live 
 
 In such an angry sea! ' 
 
 ' father ! I see a gleaming light : 
 
 Oh, say, what may it be 1 ' 
 But the father answered never a word, 
 A frozen corpse was he. 
 
 Lashed to the helm, all stiff and stark, 
 
 With his face to the skies, 
 The lantern gleamed through the gleaming snow 
 
 On his fixed and glassy eyes. 
 
 Then the maiden clasped her hands and prayed, 
 
 That saved she might be ; 
 And she thought of Christ, who stilled the wave, 
 
 On the Lake of Galilee. 
 
 And fast through the midnight dark and drear, 
 Through the whistling sleet and snow, 
 
 Like a sheeted ghost, the vessel swept, 
 Towards the reef of Norman's Woe. 
 
 And ever the fitful gusts between 
 
 A sound came from the land ; 
 It was the sound of the trampling surf, 
 
 On the rocks and the hard sea-sand. 
 
 The breakers were right beneath her bows, 
 
 She drifted a dreary wreck, 
 And a whooping billow swept the crew 
 
 Like icicles from her deck. 
 
BIDE TO NORMAN'S WOE. 91 
 
 She struck where the white and fleecy waves 
 
 Looked soft as carded wool, 
 But the cruel rocks, they gored her side, 
 
 Like the horns of an angry bull. 
 
 Her rattling shrouds, all sheathed in ice, 
 
 With the masts went by the board ; 
 Like a vessel of glass, she stove and sank : — 
 
 Ho ! ho ! the breakers roared ! 
 
 At day-break, on the bleak sea-beach, 
 
 A fisherman stood aghast, 
 To see the form of a maiden fair, 
 
 Lashed close to a drifting mast. 
 
 The salt sea was frozen on her breast, 
 
 The salt tears in her eyes ; 
 And he saw her hair, like the brown sea-weed, 
 
 On the billows fall and rise. 
 
 Such was the wreck of the Hesperus, 
 
 In the midnight and the snow ! 
 Christ save us all from a death like this, 
 
 On the reef of Norman's Woe '. " 
 
92 PIGEON COYE AND VICINITY. 
 
 RIDE TO ANNISQUAM. 
 
 THE WILLOWS. 
 
 The ride to Annisquam, five miles of the already 
 described tour round the Cape, reversed, on any 
 fair day, is delightful. Beside the pleasure on the 
 road from Pigeon Cove to the resting-place for the 
 horses at Squam Point, there may be the additional 
 pleasure of crossing Squam River in a dory, and 
 then of a stroll on Coffin's Beach and among 
 the clumps of barberry bushes and savins on the 
 ascending adjoining grounds. On the beach, the 
 roving may extend more than a mile to Two 
 Penny Loaf, a white hillock of rock and sand near 
 the mouth of Chebacco River. Across the Che- 
 bacco glisten the sands and shells of Ipswich 
 Beach. In this river, not far from the Loaf, is 
 the island where Rufus Choate was born. At the 
 head of the marsh, through which the river flows 
 with many turns, the village of Essex rises to 
 view, with a front of half-built fishing-schooners on 
 
RIDE TO ANNISQUAM. 93 
 
 the stocks, and others launched and afloat, being 
 equipped with masts, spars, rigging, and sails. Off 
 from the beach, the ramble may continue into an 
 old, shady, uneven road, seldom travelled, which 
 follows the northern base of Meeting-house Hill 
 toward a highway leading to Essex. In this out-of- 
 the-way locality, in an ancient farm-house, once 
 lived Master Tappan. In his early manhood he 
 was Daniel Webster's school-master. In the sum- 
 mer of 1841, though advanced in years, his tall form 
 was erect, and his strength equal to walking up the 
 hill to worship on Sunday. On a warm day of 
 that season, he sat in his door facing the road and 
 the hill, enjoying the cool shade of the overhanging 
 trees and the breath of brine wafted from the sea. 
 He responded with dignity and urbanity to the 
 salutation of a rambler passing, and then pressed 
 him to stop for rest and refreshment. His dis- 
 course was chiefly of the past ; but he was not 
 unmindful of current events, nor was he unaffected 
 by the picturesque surroundings of his secluded 
 abode. An hour with this gentleman of the old 
 school, in retirement deepened and shadowed by 
 hill, cliff, rock, tree, shrub, and vine, and sweet- 
 ened by the mingling odors of marsh and upland, 
 was a pleasant episode of an afternoon's excursion. 
 The meeting-house on the hill — now, alas * 
 among the things that were — was a substantial 
 edifice of oaken frame, without steeple or any 
 other ornament outside ; with plain galleries, 
 
94 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 square, high-partitioned pews, and a high pulpit, 
 fronted by the deacons' seat, and overtopped by a 
 sounding-board within. On the sounding-board 
 
 THE OLD CHURCH. 
 
 was the date "1713." Formerly the now grass- 
 grown road over the spot where this ancient house 
 of worship stood was much travelled, and the 
 people of the West Parish ascended it from both 
 the east and west sides of the hill. In the past 
 time, which has been recalled, there being no 
 dwelling-house near, the worshippers from the 
 scattered abodes and the little neighborhoods 
 around the hill seemed, to one sitting on the door- 
 step of the church waiting for them, to rise out of 
 the ground, or singly and in groups to come forth, 
 as if rocks, shrubs, and thickets had suddenly 
 turned into human beings in every form and guise, 
 from blooming childhood to hoary age. Literally, 
 the swallow, as a swallow, unchanged, had found 
 a place in God's house where she might rear her 
 young ; for in service-time the twitterings of the 
 swallows, flying through the broken windows to 
 
RIDE TO ANNISQUAM. 95 
 
 and from their nests on the lofty plates, mingled 
 with the prayers and hymns of the gathered assem- 
 bly. Even the shy golden-winged woodpeckers 
 had cut holes from the outside into the gables 
 above the cross-beams ; and so was heard through 
 the ceiling, as an accompaniment of the sounds of 
 devotion, the clamor of their young for food. 
 
 In 1846 F. A. Durivage thus wrote of this 
 venerable fane : " The old church stands in a 
 clearing on a small plateau of considerable eleva- 
 tion, commanding an extensive prospect in every 
 direction. It was formerly surrounded, we were 
 told, by a clump of beautiful oak-trees ; but every 
 vestige of these has disappeared, and it is now 
 guarded only by one tall Lombardy poplar, that 
 stands like a sentinel near a corner of the edifice. 
 The building is almost square, with a single pitch 
 roof, unpainted and somewhat decayed, but built 
 throughout with strong oak timbers. The win- 
 dows, with one exception, are square, and distrib- 
 uted rather irregularly. The glass is more than 
 half gone, many panes having been dashed in by 
 the pebbles of profane, vagrant boys, who ramble 
 hither on sunshiny afternoons, with small thought 
 of the sanctity which should hedge about the place. 
 There stood, for it was incapable of change, the 
 horse-block, a natural step of granite, whence in 
 olden time many a goodly dame stepped lightly 
 into her seat on the pillion strapped behind the 
 saddle of the sturdy horseman, who escorted her to 
 
96 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 meeting. We entered the church through an 
 aperture in the door which had been caused by 
 the demolition of a panel, and found ourselves 
 standing opposite the pulpit, above which hung a 
 sounding-board of considerable pretension, bearing 
 the date of the erection of the building, and 
 among some queer old pews with very high sides, 
 causing them to look like little wells in which the 
 piety of the olden time was sunk, the same little 
 wells being fenced round with pegs screwed into 
 the heavy top-rails that surrounded them. We 
 saw the old chair where the old deacon had sat 
 under the droppings of the sanctuary, and whence 
 he rose to c deacon ' out the psalm, reciting two 
 lines at a time, which were then sung, and fol- 
 lowed by two more from the deacon until the 
 whole stent had been accomplished. . . . We heard 
 a pleasant chirping voice in the middle aisle, and 
 there we beheld one of the humblest of God's 
 creatures, a little squirrel sitting in the centre of 
 the building and looking round him with his bright 
 and fearless eyes. He was not long stationary, 
 but scurried away through the church as if he had 
 a perfect right there, and perhaps a better one than 
 ours. A merry little sexton he is for the old 
 deserted church which he held and holds as his 
 citadel, even though the jays and pigeon-wood- 
 peckers have beleaguered him, and driven their 
 sharp bills quite through the plastering, and 
 though sometimes the north-east blast must roar 
 
EIDE TO AKNTSQUAM. 97 
 
 outside the building, and whistle through its 
 crevices, and tear the gray, moss-grown shingles 
 from the roof, and shake the old crazy walls in the 
 winter season with a fury that must make his little 
 heart beat dreadfully. But no ! such guiltless 
 creatures have no fear of Nature in her darkest 
 moods ; and the deadly tube of the roving gun- 
 ner has more terrors for them than the wildest 
 storm that ever swept the shore and sea. ... As 
 we leisurely turned our steps homeward through 
 the forest, we thought, as we looked upon the scene 
 around us, of Bryant's beautiful lines : — 
 
 ' Scarce less the cleft-born wild-flower seems to enjoy 
 Existence, than the winged plunderer 
 That sucks its sweets : the mossy rocks themselves, 
 And the old ponderous trunks of prostrate trees, 
 That lead from knoll to knoll, a causeway rude, 
 Or bridge the sunken brook, and their dark roots 
 With all their earth upon them, twisting high, 
 Breathe fixed tranquillity. The rivulet 
 Sends forth glad sounds, and tripping o'er its bed 
 Of pebbly sands, or leaping down the rocks, 
 Seems, with continuous laughter, to rejoice 
 In its own being. Softly tread the marge, 
 Lest from her midway perch thou scar'st the wren 
 That dips her bill in water. The cool wind, 
 That stirs the stream in play, shall come to thee 
 Like one that loves thee, nor will let thee pass 
 Ungreeted, and shall give its light embrace.' " 
 
 Returning from Meeting-house Hill toward 
 Squam River, overlooking Ipswich Bay and the 
 estuary where river and bay unite, the lighthouse 
 
 6 G 
 
98 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 and the cove and beach close by, and the river's 
 channel leading by cove, beach, and point into 
 the sheltered harbor, the whole scene is so fair 
 and peaceful to our company of explorers that it 
 hardly seems to them credible that there were days 
 in the past when the villagers across the tide were 
 thrown into deepest distress and sorrow by tales 
 of the capture or murder of their absent friends on 
 the sea by pirates, and sometimes were uplifted to 
 the highest rejoicing by the arrival of their fathers, 
 brothers, and sons alive and well, who had been 
 supposed among the dead lying upon the bottom 
 of the deep. The story of Captain Andrew Hara- 
 den and his crew illustrates both the hardness 
 and the courage of those days. 
 
 They sailed from Annisquam, in the sloop " Squir- 
 rel," in the spring of 1724. Near the middle of 
 April they were captured by John Phillips, who, 
 as a pirate, had become a terror in our waters. 
 Captain Haraden's vessel being new, Phillips de- 
 cided to remain on board of her with his prisoners, 
 and ordered his men to remove every thing from 
 his own craft, and leave her to the winds and 
 waves. The sloop not having been wholly finished, 
 and there being carpenters' tools on board, the 
 pirate set Captain Haraclen to the task of complet- 
 ing the work left undone. Thus there were instru- 
 ments in the captives' hands with which to regain 
 possession of the sloop and their own liberty. A 
 plan was devised to accomplish this end, and 
 
RIDE TO AKKESQUAM. 99 
 
 immediately executed. One of the pirates was 
 thrown overboard by an athletic sailor as the sig- 
 nal for action. Then Captain Haraden with an 
 adze struck down Phillips, another with a broadaxe 
 killed Phillips's boatswain, and others threw over- 
 board the pirate's gunner. At this point of the 
 struggle, the rest of the pirates gave themselves 
 up as prisoners. Soon after, the " Squirrel " sailed 
 into Squam River, steered by the steady hand of 
 Captain Haraden, having the prisoners and the 
 heads of Phillips and his boatswain on board. 
 Subsequently two of the pirates were hung at 
 Charlestown Ferry. Two others were sentenced 
 to death, but were withheld from the gallows for 
 a time, to be recommended to the king's mercy. 
 The rest were set at liberty as men who had been 
 forced to assist in evil work. 
 
 Recrossing the river to take seats again in the 
 waiting carriage, no stain of blood is seen on 
 wave or rock ; and among the honest, kind-hearted, 
 cheerful folk of the village, more is heard of the 
 words and acts of the good pastor — who many 
 years, till he died, led his flock by the still waters 
 and in the green pastures of love and peace — than 
 of the sanguinary conflicts which the sturdy fore- 
 fathers of the long-ago, ruder days could not 
 avoid. 
 
 At home again, and the day being nearly done, 
 W. H. Hurlbut shall sing an evening song : — 
 
100 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 " On the tall cliffs the dying sunlight glows, 
 
 And stains with dolphin hues the waveless bay ; 
 
 And stars peep forth that lead the night's array, 
 
 Where in mid-heaven the deep'ning purple grows. 
 
 How cool an eve attends this burning day ! 
 
 How sweet a peace the troubled wave subdues ! 
 
 O troubled, burning heart ! canst thou refuse 
 To be as calmly hushed to rest as they 1 " 
 
 RIDE TO PEBBLE STONE BEACH AND LONG 
 BEACH. 
 
 Hfe^ 
 
 LONG BEACH. 
 
 The ride to Pebble Stone Beach and Long Beach 
 is also five miles. A great part of the way is over- 
 looked from Pigeon Cove, since it is the road to 
 Rockport around the seaside base of Pigeon Hill, 
 and along the shore ; passing, with other dwellings, 
 the old Rowe House, the quarries of the Rockport 
 Granite Company, the high, wood-covered ledges 
 extending from the base of Poole's Hill to the 
 ocean, and the beaches beyond, lying between 
 storm-defying crags ; and then onward from Rock- 
 
EIDE TO PEBBLE STONE BEACH, ETC. 101 
 
 port over Cove Hill, meandering across the high 
 and, but for the orchards, the bare region of farms, 
 to a flat ledge, overlaid with green turf, close to 
 the sea. 
 
 Here the horses remain, while the excursionists 
 ramble over the beaches. Several yards to the 
 left from this spot is Emerson's Point. From this 
 point south-westward to Brier Neck is the good 
 mile length of Pebble Stone Beach and Long 
 Beach. They are separated midway by a brook, 
 and by a jagged pile of granite called Cape Hedge. 
 From the turf-clad ledge, where the horses wait, to 
 Cape Hedge, the beach is a marvel. The pebbles, 
 smooth and oval, from the size of canister-balls to 
 the size of hundred-pounder shells, above the hard 
 sand exposed at low tide, have been thrown up by 
 the waves into three high and wide terraces, one 
 upon another. At high tide, when the waves 
 driven by the storm roll in upon them, the pebbles 
 are set in motion from end to end of the beach. 
 When the waves charge up the terraces, the peb- 
 bles are pushed upward, and some of them are 
 thrown over the crest of the highest terrace. 
 When the waves retreat, the pebbles turn and 
 follow them till again met by another charge, 
 making a noise on the whole line like the rattle of 
 musketry when the firing of an army, after the 
 discharge of the one volley beginning an engage- 
 ment, is continued briskly but irregularly. While 
 the thumps of the breakers on Cape Hedge strike 
 
102 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 the ear like the thunder of a battery, the contin- 
 uous clatter of the thousands of pebbles all astir 
 complete the imitation of the din of battle. 
 
 Between Cape Hedge and Brier Neck, the half 
 mile of Long Beach is of sand, and wide and 
 smooth; but behind the sand, hardened by the 
 tramping waves, are sand-knolls thrown up by 
 the winds. Long Beach is backed by a marsh. 
 On rising ground behind the marsh, and spread- 
 ing over hundreds of acres receding to Cape Pond 
 and Beaver Dam, is a grand wood but slightly 
 damaged by the ruthless axe. 
 
 Cape Hedge and Emerson's Point command a 
 view of Milk Island and Thatcher's Island. Fol- 
 lowing the shore from Emerson's point northward, 
 the ramblers next gain Loblolly Point and Lob- 
 lolly Cove. Here Straitsmouth Island and the 
 Salvages strike the vision. The next advance is 
 to Flat Point and Whale Cove. Often excursion- 
 ists resort to the former for its magnificent pros- 
 pect. One event connected with the latter took 
 place in March, 1798. A great whale, seventy-six 
 feet long, was driven upon the beach in this cove. 
 While the oil of this monster was being secured, 
 many persons, attracted by the novelty, visited the 
 cove ; several from Gloucester, there being snow 
 then, by means of sleighs. Since then the place 
 has been Whale Cove. 
 
 Onward again, and Gap Cove and Gap Head are 
 reached. This is the southern extreme point of 
 
RIDE TO PEBBLE STONE BEACH, ETC. 103 
 
 the Cape. Across the channel called the Gut is 
 Straitsmouth Island. It is said by elderly persons 
 hereabout that in 1772, in a gully near this point, 
 a pot of gold nuggets was found. As the value of 
 the nuggets was some thousands of dollars, the 
 place where the pot was found may be marked by 
 some writer of imaginary stories as one scene in 
 the history of some bold buccaneer who ended his 
 career on the gallows, or by going to the bottom 
 of the sea with his ship under the broadside of a 
 man-of-war. 
 
 From Gap Head is the finest view of Pigeon 
 Hill to be attained anywhere on shore. The hill, 
 rising from the bay, is a beautiful background for 
 the houses on the road curving around its eastern 
 base ; and, together with these abodes and their 
 foreground of ledges, crags, and boulder-strewn 
 beaches, and with the village north of it, from the 
 little artificial harbor beginning to overrun the 
 broad area of Andrews' Point, presents a view to 
 the eye across the bay so truly splendid that one 
 might consider himself as not in a frivolous pursuit 
 for seeking with pains the point commanding it. 
 
 The way back to Pebble Stone Beach is so long, 
 the ramblers prefer a shorter path to the high-road, 
 where the carriage will meet them, according to an 
 arrangement with the driver. 
 
 Homeward returning, they see a steamer from 
 Boston passing the Salvages ; and another, off 
 Straitsmouth, following in her wake ; also a fleet 
 
104 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 of yachts with all sails set, bound for the Isles of 
 Shoals. A dark cloud rises in the west. The ear 
 catches the rumbling of distant thunder. The 
 horses trot more briskly. The yachts this after- 
 noon will make Pigeon Cove, and there lie in 
 safety through the night. The ramblers, enriched 
 and invigorated from what they have seen and 
 done, are presently at home recounting the scenes 
 and adventures of the afternoon's jaunt. 
 
 FISHING AND YACHTING. 
 
 PIGEON COVE HARBOR. 
 
 These diversions are as often enjoyed on our 
 waters as they are wished for. The kinds of fish 
 
FISHING AND YACHTING. 105 
 
 near the shore, and off in deep water, are sufficiently 
 numerous to satisfy the amateur in the art of fish- 
 ing, however fond he may be of variety. One 
 almost anywhere on the shore, with a rod of the 
 usual length, easily draws from the sea such fry as 
 perch or cunners, and not unfrequently the golden 
 rock-cod. At several points, also, tautog are 
 caught in like manner. Near Dick's Dream and 
 Ocean Bluff, even deep-water cod, weighing ten 
 and fifteen pounds, have been taken with a strong 
 line thrown out from the shore. Here the descent 
 from the shore is abrupt and deep, so that this 
 chief of the fish sought for the table approaches 
 much nearer the unsubmerged rocks than it is 
 accustomed to do. Sometimes schools of mackerel 
 come so near to the shore that, by rowing upon 
 them in a dory, the exciting sport of catching a 
 large number of these most beautiful of the finny 
 inhabitants of the sea is enjoyed. Going in a sail- 
 boat or yacht a little way from shore, and dropping 
 anchor where cod and haddock abound, are the 
 simple necessary preliminaries before pulling from 
 the depths of the bay a good fare of these favorite 
 species. Occasionally blue-fish appear in the bay. 
 The yacht makes swift headway before the stiff 
 breeze, and the spoon at the end of a long line fol- 
 lows over the surface of waves, imitating the 
 silver-sided herring darting from wave to wave 
 from its pursuer. The artifice is successful : the 
 voracious fish is hooked, and soon, by hand over 
 
 5* 
 
106 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 hand, strong, and skilful exertion, is drawn over the 
 rail and secured. Sometimes, in the vicinity of 
 the Salvages, a halibut takes a hook baited for cod, 
 and is caught. Then follow the struggle of this 
 immense flat fish to escape, and the counter-effort 
 of vigorous arms to haul the fish to the sea's sur- 
 face and the vessel's side. Presently the captive 
 rises to sight and within reach ; and, gaff and 
 tackle being promptly used, is soon on deck. 
 
 BY YACHT TO ANNISQUAM, GLOUCESTER, GRAPE 
 ISLAND, NEWBURYPORT. 
 
 Half-day or all-day voyaging in pleasure-boats 
 and yachts is one of the delightful diversions of 
 the summer sojourn at Pigeon Cove. One enjoy- 
 able sail is around Andrews' Point into Ipswich 
 Bay, passing the indented north shore to Annis- 
 quam and Gloucester, by the way of Squam River. 
 Beating into the bay, and then into the river, 
 against the wind, and returning with sails filled 
 before the wind, illustrate common alternations in 
 human life. Another sail is across the bay to the 
 mouth of Ipswich River and Grape Island, or into 
 the Merrimack up to the fair city of Newbury- 
 port. 
 
THE SAIL TO THE ISLES OF SHOALS. 107 
 
 THE SAIL TO THE ISLES OF SHOALS. 
 
 Another is a sail of twenty-one miles to the 
 Isles of Shoals. This voyage, if accomplished in a 
 single clay, affords but a brief time for a survey of 
 the cluster of islands, now greatened and glorified 
 by the pen of one who in childhood became familiar 
 with their bold hard features, and also with their 
 warmth and beauty in hollows and nooks ; their 
 delicate though unpretentious tokens of tenderness 
 toward hearts needing the sunshine and blessing of 
 smiles, in fragrant shrubs and bright-hued flowers, 
 in mosses of colors unattained by the painter's art, 
 in violets and pimpernels of blue and scarlet sheen 
 unknown to their genera away from the pure 
 atmosphere of the enfolding sea. How much of 
 wonder and enchantment one intelligent and lov- 
 ing mind discerns, where whole generations have 
 overpassed, seeing only barrenness and desolation ! 
 How to the vision unveiled uprise and glisten the 
 dew-besprinkled grass-blades and gold-bedecked 
 mullein-stalks, amid the waste of rough, unshapely 
 rocks and moss-bound mould ! And to the same 
 vision how through the darkness and terror of the 
 storm come revealings foretelling the advent of 
 a fair, sweet day, when the whole sky shall be 
 bright ; and the earth and the sea, no longer in 
 shadow, shall rejoice for the end of doubt, the 
 
108 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 establishment of reverent confidence and faith in 
 the Father ! Of course Mrs. Thaxter's " Wreck 
 of the Pocahontas," which appeared in the " Atlan- 
 tic Monthly," April, 1868, should follow these 
 reflections : — 
 
 "I lit the lamps in the lighthouse tower, 
 
 For the sun dropped down and the day was dead ; 
 They shone like a glorious clustered flower, 
 Ten golden and five red. 
 
 Looking across, where the line of coast 
 
 Stretched darkly, shrinking away from the sea, 
 
 The lights sprang out at its edge, — almost 
 They seemed to answer me ! 
 
 O warning lights, burn bright and clear, 
 Hither the storm comes ! Leagues away 
 
 It moans and thunders low and drear, — 
 Burn till the break of day ! 
 
 Good night ! I called to the gulls that sailed 
 Slow past me through the evening sky ; 
 
 And my comrades, answering shrilly, hailed 
 Me back with boding cry. 
 
 A mournful breeze began to blow, 
 
 Weird music it drew through the iron bars, 
 
 The sullen billows boiled below, 
 And dimly peered the stars ; 
 
 The sails that flecked the ocean floor 
 From east to west leaned low and fled ; 
 
 They knew what came in the distant roar 
 That filled the air with dread ! 
 
 Flung by the fitful gust, there beat 
 
 Against the window a dash of rain: 
 Steady as tramp of marching feet 
 
 Strode on the hurricane. 
 
THE SAIL TO THE ISLES OF SHOALS. 109 
 
 It smote the waves for a moment still, 
 
 Level and deadly white for fear; 
 The hare rock shuddered, — an awful thrill 
 
 Shook even my tower of cheer. 
 
 Like all the demons loosed at last, 
 
 Whistling and shrieking, wild and wide, 
 
 The mad wind raged, and strong and fast 
 Rolled in the rising tide. 
 
 And soon in ponderous showers the spray, 
 Struek from the granite, reared and sprung, 
 
 And clutched at tower and cottage gray, 
 Where overwhelmed they clung 
 
 Half drowning to the naked rock; 
 
 But still burned on the faithful light, 
 Nor faltered at the tempest's shock, 
 
 Through all the fearful night. 
 
 Was it in vain ? That knew not we. 
 
 We seemed in that confusion vast, 
 Of rushing wind and roaring sea, 
 
 One point whereon was cast 
 
 The whole Atlantic's weight of hrine. 
 
 Heaven help the ship should drift our way ! 
 No matter how the light might shine 
 
 Far on into the day. 
 
 When morning dawned, above the din 
 
 Of gale and breaker boomed a gun! 
 Another! We, who sat within, 
 
 Answered with cries each one. 
 
 Into each other's eyes with fear 
 
 We looked through helpless tears, as still 
 
 One after one, near and more near, 
 The signals pealed, until 
 
110 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 The thick storm seemed to break apart, 
 To show us, staggering to her grave, 
 
 The fated brig. We had no heart 
 To look, for naught could save. 
 
 One glimpse of black hull heaving slow, 
 Then closed the mists o'er canvas torn 
 
 And tangled ropes, swept to and fro 
 From masts that raked forlorn. 
 
 Weeks after, yet ringed round with spray, 
 Our island lay, and none might land ; 
 
 Though blue the waters of the bay 
 Stretched calm on either hand. 
 
 And when at last from the distant shore 
 A little boat stole out, to reach 
 
 Our loneliness, and bring once more 
 Fresh human thought and speech, 
 
 We told our tale, and the boatmen cried, - 
 ' 'Twas the Pocahontas, — all were lost ! 
 
 For miles along the coast the tide 
 Her shattered timbers tost.' 
 
 Then I looked the whole horizon round, — 
 So beautiful the ocean spread 
 
 About us, o'er those sailors drowned ! 
 ' Father in heaven,' I said, 
 
 A child's grief struggling in my breast, 
 ' Do purposeless thy creatures meet 
 
 Such bitter death 1 How was it best 
 These hearts should cease to beat 1 
 
 wherefore ! Are we naught to Thee ? 
 
 Like senseless weeds that rise and fall 
 Upon thine awful sea, are we 
 
 No more then, after all ? ' 
 
THE SAIL TO THE ISLES OF SHOALS. Ill 
 
 And I shut the beauty from ray sight, 
 For I thought of the dead that lay below. 
 
 From tbe bright air faded the warmth and light, 
 There came a chill like snow. 
 
 Then I heard the far-off rote resound, 
 
 Where the breakers slow and slumberous rolled, 
 
 And a subtle sense of Thought profound 
 Touched me with power untold. 
 
 And like a voice eternal spake 
 
 That wondrous rhythm, and 'Peace, be still ! * 
 It murmured, 'bow thy head, and take 
 
 Life's rapture and life's ill, 
 
 And wait. At last all shall be clear.' 
 
 The long, low, mellow music rose 
 And fell, and soothed my dreaming ear 
 
 With infinite repose. 
 
 Sighing, I climbed the lighthouse stair, 
 
 Half forgetting my grief and pain ; 
 And while the day died sweet and fair, 
 
 I lit the lamps again." 
 
 Homeward bound from the group of islands, the 
 talk of the voyagers so runs on matters connected 
 with the history of the group, that for some time 
 the swift progress of the yacht is not noticed. 
 One questions if Captain John Smith, on his way 
 along the coast in 1614, erected the pile of stones 
 on Appledore. Another refers to the day when 
 the population of the islands was much larger than 
 at the present time ; and the inhabitants, who were 
 then engaged in the fishing business, were suffi- 
 ciently enterprising to be connected with ships 
 
112 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 from Spain and other foreign countries in commer- 
 cial relations. Still another tells a tale of the 
 wreck of a Spanish ship on one of the reefs of the 
 Shoals : which is followed by a fellow for his story 
 from a companion at his elbow, — namely, that a 
 ship from Spain, many years ago, was wrecked on 
 Andrews' Point, between Dick's Dream and Cha- 
 pin's Gully ; that before she wholly went to pieces 
 one of her masts fell over her bow upon the shore, 
 so that all her crew were saved from the waves by 
 passing over it to dry and substantial footing ; and 
 that, at intervals, since the ship was wrecked, vil- 
 lagers visiting the place of the disaster have there 
 picked up Spanish silver dollars, which were very 
 much worn from long tossing to and fro on the 
 ledge beneath the furious breakers. Then is re- 
 lated by one, who never omits on fit occasions to 
 mix the humorous with the grave, the story of the 
 preacher who, in the olden time, once discoursing 
 to the Isles of Shoals congregation, so aroused one 
 of his hearers through the force of nautical speech, 
 as to get from him such a response as he would 
 have given a skipper on board a fisherman. The 
 preacher was representing the case of the sinners 
 before him as that of sailors on board a vessel 
 in a storm. The picture was drawn with a bold 
 hand. Torrents poured, and whirlwinds churned 
 the sea. There seemed no space between the next 
 ascent upon a billow and destruction upon an un- 
 yielding and merciless reef. At this point of 
 
THE SAIL TO THE ISLES OF SHOALS. 113 
 
 imminent ruin, " What shall we do ? what shall we 
 do ? " cried the minister. Jack, who had weathered 
 many a storm, and had not so long been an Isles of 
 Shoals man without learning what would be the 
 chance for life in the stress and strait so powerfully 
 brought home to him, promptly answered, " Histe 
 for's'il and jib, and scud for Squam, sir." 
 
 The moon rises, and the " multitudinous " waves 
 turn to silver before her luminous disk ; and the 
 headland, toward which the yacht advances uner- 
 ringly, lifts itself more and more above the sea, 
 presenting its line of points and coves to the impar- 
 tial ray spreading over sea and land from the 
 earth's serene and constant satellite. At midnight, 
 her precious freight being fanned by cool breezes, 
 and cheered by the welcome of waves tapping the 
 wharves and the hulls of sloops and schooners in 
 the harbor, the stanch little craft arrives at her 
 buoy, there to lie through the night in repose. 
 The voyagers, too, thankful for the pleasures of 
 the day without alloy, are soon in their places of 
 rest. " All good is from above." 
 
114 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 THE SAIL TO STRAITSMOUTH AND THATCHER'S 
 ISLANDS. 
 
 THATCHER ISLAND LIGHTS. 
 
 The distance to Straitsmouth Island being but 
 three miles, and, after doubling Straitsmouth, to 
 Thatcher's Island but two miles more, the whole 
 course is under the eye of the village. Gliding 
 out of the harbor, the yacht careens to the wind 
 pressing her sails, and then onward shoots over the 
 waves toward Straitsmouth lighthouse, as an arrow 
 goes to its mark. The swift sailing is exhilarating. 
 A few rods from the landing place in the Gut the 
 sails are lowered and the anchor dropped. Then 
 the shore is reached in a dory ; and the lighthouse 
 at the other and outer end of the island, by a third 
 of a mile walk. The view from the lantern, and 
 the ramble from point to point, though mainly not 
 differing from views and rambles on the bare heads 
 and bluffs of the Cape across the narrow channel, 
 are yet curious and strange in a degree, for being 
 connected with an insulated spot. The island is 
 so small that on any part of it, and which ever way 
 the observer turns, the waves of the great sea are 
 
THE SAIL TO STRAITSMOUTH. 115 
 
 present in awful upheavings and clashing^, or in 
 gentle swirls among the rocks covered with kelp 
 and moss, and in the stealthy creeping of the rising, 
 and in the almost silent stealing away, of the falling 
 tide. Here with the cleanness of rock and turf, 
 with the wholesomeness of the air, and with the 
 sense of boundless relationship, and of life without 
 end, the heart sings under standingly " The Spell 
 of the Sea:" — 
 
 "With moon and stars, at morn and eve, 
 
 In sunny wind or shower, 
 How often hath it worked in me, — 
 That m} r stery of the kingly sea, 
 
 With joyous spells of power ! 
 
 Oh, it is well sick men should go 
 
 Unto the royal sea ; 
 For on their souls, as on a glass, 
 From its bright fields the breath doth pass 
 
 Of its infinity. 
 
 My mother taught me how to love 
 
 The mystery of the sea ; 
 She sported with my childish wonder 
 At its white waves and gentle thunder 
 
 Like a man's deep voice to me. 
 
 Then in my soul dim thoughts awoke, 
 
 She helped to set them free ; 
 I learned from ocean's murmurings 
 How infinite eternal things, 
 
 Though viewless, yet could be. 
 
 In gentle moods I love the hills, 
 
 Because they bound my spirit; 
 But to the broad blue sea I fly 
 When I would feel the destiny 
 
 Immortal souls inherit." 
 
116 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Whether by doubling Straitsmouth, or passing 
 through the Gut separating this island from Gap 
 Head, the short extension of the sail to Thatcher's 
 is not a less interesting division of it. On this 
 course, the track of coasters between the Cape and 
 Thatcher's is traversed ; and it is but a navigable 
 river's width to the parallel track of steamers and 
 ships passing into and out of Massachusetts Bay by 
 the guidance of Thatcher's tall twin towers. Low 
 in the bay, like a great raft, south-westward from 
 Thatcher's is Milk Island. Sometimes a few cat- 
 tle and sheep are ferried over to the latter from the 
 Cape, for the scant herbage growing on it among 
 the rocks. The shore of the former, all round, rises 
 from the sea like a massive wall such as no might 
 or skill of man ever reared. Near the one slope 
 where small boats may land, the yacht is left to 
 ride at anchor, while the voyagers see and learn all 
 they may within the jagged rim which through all 
 the years withstands the fury of tempest and wave. 
 
 In 1635, nineteen years after Captain John 
 Smith named Straitsmouth, Thatcher's, and Milk 
 Islands, the Three Turks' Heads, Thatcher's, the 
 middle and largest of the three, became the object 
 of the early colonists' sorrowful attention, because 
 of an event the like of which had not before hap- 
 pened in New England. In Dr. Alexander Young's 
 " Chronicles of the First Planters of the Colony 
 of Massachusetts Bay," is a narrative of this 
 event, which was written by Anthony Thatcher, 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 117 
 
 whose name the island now bears. It is entitled 
 " Thatcher's Narrative of his Shipwreck." A 
 large part of it should be repeated to our excur- 
 sionists, for nothing can be better or more touching 
 to their minds than the sufferer's own manner of 
 telling the sad tale. 
 
 " There was a league of perpetual friendship 
 between " Mr. Thatcher and his " Cousin Avery " 
 (who " was," said Increase Mather, "a precious 
 holy minister") "never to forsake each other 
 to the death, but to be partakers of each other's 
 misery or welfare, as also of habitation, in the 
 same place." They with their families came from 
 England together. Upon their arrival in New 
 England, they tarried awhile in Ipswich, but 
 finally took up their abode in Newbury, notwith- 
 standing Mr. Avery had been " invited to Marble- 
 head." There was no church " planted there as 
 yet, but a town appointed to set up the trade of 
 fishing." Though the promise was held out that 
 Mr. Avery should become in due time the pastor 
 of the Marblehead church, he was not inclined to 
 leave Newbury. The good man shrank from what 
 he believed would be a difficult work. For a time 
 he did not rise to the heroic purpose to spend his 
 strength where the need for it seemed the greatest. 
 " But " (in the language of Mr. Thatcher) " being 
 solicited so often by the men of the place, and by 
 the magistrates, and by Mr. Cotton, and most of 
 the ministers, who alleged what a benefit we might 
 
118 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 be to the people there, and also to the country and 
 commonwealth at length, ... we thither consented 
 to go. They of Marblehead forthwith sent a pin- 
 nace for us and our goods." 
 
 The pinnace went to the then best known port 
 near Newbury for the minister and his friend, and 
 their wives and children. Mr. Thatcher's words 
 are: " We embarked at Ipswich, August 11, 1635, 
 with our families and substance, bound for Marble- 
 head, we being in all twenty-three souls ; viz., 
 eleven in my cousin's family, seven in mine, and 
 one Mr. William Eliot, sometimes of New Sarum, 
 and four mariners. The next morning, having 
 commended ourselves to God, with cheerful hearts 
 we hoisted sail. But the Lord suddenly turned 
 our cheerfulness into mourning and lamentations. 
 For on the 14th of this August, 1635, about ten at 
 night, having a fresh gale of wind, our sails being 
 old and done were split. The mariners, because 
 that it was night, would not put to new sails, but 
 resolved to cast anchor till morning. But before 
 daylight it pleased the Lord to send so mighty a 
 storm as the like was never known in New Eng- 
 land since the English came, nor in the memory of 
 any of the Indians. It was so furious that our 
 anchor came home. Whereupon the mariners let 
 out more cable, which at last slipped away. Then 
 our sailors knew not what to do; but we were 
 driven before the wind and waves. 
 
 " My cousin and I perceived our danger, and 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER^ ISLAND. 119 
 
 solemnly recommended ourselves to God, the Lord 
 both of earth and seas, expecting with every wave 
 to be swallowed np and drenched in the deeps. 
 And as my cousin, his wife, and my tender babes 
 sat comforting and cheering one the other in the 
 Lord against ghastly death, which every moment 
 stared us in the face and sat triumphing upon each 
 one's forehead, we were by the violence and fury 
 of the winds (by the Lord's permission) lifted 
 up upon a rock between two high rocks, yet all 
 was one rock. But it raged with the stroke, 
 which came into the pinnace, so that we were 
 presently up to our middles in water, as we sat. 
 The waves came furiously and violently over us, 
 and against us, but, by reason of the rock's pro- 
 portion, could not lift us off, but beat her all to 
 pieces. Now look with me upon our distress and 
 consider of my misery, who beheld the ship broken, 
 the water in her and violently overwhelming us, 
 my goods and provisions swimming in the seas, my 
 friends almost drowned, and mine own poor chil- 
 dren so untimely (if I may so term it without 
 offence) before mine eyes drowned, and ready to 
 be swallowed up and dashed to pieces against the 
 rocks by the merciless waves, and myself ready to 
 accompany them. But I must go on to an end of 
 this woful relation. 
 
 " In the same room whereas he sat, the master of 
 the pinnace, not knowing what to do, our foremast, 
 was cut down, our mainmast broken in three 
 
120 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 pieces, the forepart of the pinnace beat away, our 
 goods swimming about the seas, my children be- 
 wailing me as not pitying themselves, and myself 
 bemoaning them, poor souls, whom I had occa- 
 sioned to such an end in their tender years, when 
 as they scarce could be sensible of death. And so 
 likewise my cousin, his wife, and his children ; and 
 both of us bewailing each other in our Lord and 
 only Saviour Jesus Christ, in whom only we had 
 comfort and cheerfulness ; insomuch that, from the 
 greatest to the least of us, there was not one 
 screech or outcry made ; but all, as silent sheep, 
 were contentedly resolved to die together lovingly, 
 as since our acquaintance we had lived together 
 friendly. 
 
 44 Now as I was sitting in the cabin-room door, 
 with my body in the room, when lo ! one of the 
 sailors, by a wave being washed out of the pinnace, 
 was gotten in again, and coming into the cabin 
 room over my back cried out : 4 We are all cast 
 away. The Lord have mercy upon us ! I have 
 been washed overboard into the sea, and am got- 
 ten in again.' His speeches made me look forth. 
 And looking towards and seeing how we were, I 
 turned myself to my cousin and the rest, and 
 spake these words : ' O cousin, it hath pleased 
 God to cast us here between two rocks, the shore 
 not far from us, for I saw the tops of trees 
 when I looked forth.' Whereupon the master of 
 the pinnace, looking up at the scuttle-hole of the 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 121 
 
 quarter-deck, went out at it ; but I never saw 
 him afterwards. Then he that had been in the 
 sea went out again by me, and leaped overboard 
 towards the rocks, whom afterwards also I could 
 not see. 
 
 " Now none were left in the bark, that I knew or 
 saw, but my cousin, his wife and children, myself 
 and mine, and his maid-servant. But my cousin 
 thought that I would have fled from him, and said 
 unto me, 4 O cousin ! leave us not, let us die 
 together,' and reached forth his hand unto me. 
 Then I, letting go my son Peter's hand, took him 
 by the hand, and said, ' Cousin, I purpose it not. 
 Whither shall I go ? I am willing and ready here 
 to die with you and my poor children. God be 
 merciful to us and receive us to himself ; ' adding 
 these words, ' The Lord is able to help and deliver 
 us.' He replied, saying : 4 Truth, cousin ; but 
 what his pleasure is we know not. I fear we have 
 been too unthankful for former deliverances. But 
 he hath promised to deliver us from sin and con- 
 demnation, and to bring us safe to heaven through 
 the all-sufficient satisfaction of Jesus Christ. This 
 therefore we may challenge of him.' To which I 
 replying said, c That is all the deliverance I now 
 desire and expect.' 
 
 " Which words I had no sooner spoken but by 
 a mighty wave I was, with the piece of the bark, 
 washed out upon part of the rock, where the 
 wave left me almost drowned ; but, recovering my 
 
122 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 feet, I saw above me on the rock my daughter 
 Mary, to whom I had no sooner gotten but my 
 cousin Avery and his eldest son came to us, being 
 all four of us washed out by one and the same 
 wave. We went all into a small hole on the top 
 of the rock, whence we called to those in the pin- 
 nace to come unto us, supposing we were in more 
 safety than they were in. My wife, seeing us there, 
 was crept up into the scuttle of the quarter-deck 
 to come unto us. But presently came another 
 wave, and, dashing the pinnace all to pieces, carried 
 my wife away in the scuttle, as she was, with the 
 greater part of the quarter-deck, unto the shore ; 
 where she was cast safely, but her legs were some- 
 thing bruised. And much timber of the vessel 
 being there also cast, she was some time before 
 she could get away, being washed by the waves. 
 All the rest that were in the bark were drowned 
 in the merciless seas. We four by that wave were 
 clean swept away from off the rock, also, into the 
 sea ; the Lord, in one instant of time, disposing of 
 fifteen souls of us, according to his good pleasure 
 and will. 
 
 " His pleasure and wonderful great mercy to me 
 was thus. Standing on the rock, as before you 
 heard, with my eldest daughter, my cousin, and 
 his eldest son, looking upon and talking to them in 
 the bark, when as we were by that merciless wave 
 washed off the rock* as before you heard, God, in 
 his mercy, caused me to fall, by the stroke of the 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 123 
 
 wave, flat on my face ; for my face was toward the 
 sea. Insomuch that, as I was sliding off the rock 
 into the sea, the Lord directed my toes into a joint 
 in the rock's side, as also the tops of some of my 
 fingers, with my right hand, by means whereof, 
 the wave leaving me, I remained so, hanging on the 
 rock, only my head above the water ; when on the 
 left hand I espied a board or plank of the pinnace. 
 And as I was reaching out my left hand to lay 
 hold on it, by another coming over the top of the 
 rock I was washed away from the rock, and by 
 the violence of the waves was driven hither and 
 thither in the seas a great while, and had many 
 dashes against the rocks. At length, past hopes 
 of life, and wearied in body and spirits, I even 
 gave over to nature ; and, being ready to receive in 
 the waters of death, I lifted up both my heart and 
 hands to the God of heaven — for note, I had my 
 senses remaining perfect with me all the time I was 
 in the water — who at that instant lifted my head 
 above the top of the water, that so I might breathe 
 without any hindrance by the waters. I stood bolt 
 upright as if I had stood upon my feet ; but I felt no 
 bottom, nor had any footing for to stand upon but 
 waters. 
 
 " While I was thus above the water, I saw by me 
 a piece of the mast, as I suppose, about three foot 
 long, which I labored to catch into my arms. But 
 suddenly I was overwhelmed with water, and 
 driven to and fro again, and at last I felt the 
 
124 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 ground with my right foot. When immediately, 
 whilst I was thus grovelling on my face, I, presently 
 recovering my feet, was in the water up to my 
 breast, and through God's great mercy had my 
 face unto the shore, and not to the sea. I made 
 haste to get out, but was thrown on my hands with 
 the waves, and so with safety crept to the dry 
 shore. Where, blessing God, I turned about to 
 look for my children and friends, but saw neither, 
 nor any part of the pinnace, where I left them, 
 as I supposed. But I saw my wife about a butt 
 length from me, getting herself forth from amongst 
 the timber of the broken bark ; but before I could 
 get unto her, she was gotten to the shore. I was in 
 the water, after I was washed from the rock, before 
 I came to the shore, a quarter of an hour at least. 
 " I will proceed on in the relation of God's good- 
 ness unto me in that desolate island on which I 
 was cast. I and my wife were almost naked, both 
 of us, and wet and cold even unto death. I found 
 a snapsack cast on the shore, in which I had a 
 steel and flint and powder-horn. Going further, 
 I found a drowned goat ; then I found a hat, and 
 my son William's coat, both which I put on. My 
 wife found one of her petticoats, which she put on. 
 I found also two cheeses and some butter driven 
 ashore. Thus the Lord sent us some clothes to 
 put on, and food to sustain our new lives, which 
 we had lately given unto us, and means also to 
 make fire ; for in a horn I had some gunpowder, 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 125 
 
 which to mine own, and since to other men's 
 admiration, was dry. So taking a piece of my wife's 
 neckcloth, which I dried in the sun, I struck fire, 
 and so dried and warmed our wet bodies ; and then 
 skinned the goat, and having found a small brass 
 pot we boiled some of her. Bread we had none. 
 
 " There we remained until the Monday following; 
 when about three of the clock in the afternoon, in 
 a boat that came that way, we went of! that deso- 
 late island, which I named after my name, Thatch- 
 er's Woe, and the rock, Avery his Fall, to the end 
 that their fall and loss, and mine own, might be had 
 in perpetual remembrance. In the isle lieth buried 
 the body of my cousin's eldest daughter, whom I 
 found dead on the shore. On the Tuesday follow- 
 ing, in the afternoon, we arrived at Marblehead." 
 
 In some way, which cannot be explained here, a 
 rock, a mile inside the Salvages toward Rockport, 
 and more than two miles from Thatcher's Island, 
 has become known as " Avery's Rock." Being 
 always under water, its locality is only revealed at 
 low tide by the breaking and foaming of the waves 
 which pass over it. But the true Avery's Rock, 
 or " Avery's Fall," according to Mr. Thatcher's 
 narrative, is very near the south shore of Thatcher's 
 Island, or " Thatcher's Woe," as the sorrowful 
 man felt inclined to name it. One of the interest- 
 ing quests of visitors on the island is for this rock 
 with features corresponding to the description in 
 the narrative. And, while looking down upon it 
 
126 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 from one of the bold cliffs of the island, one is 
 moved to read to his companions who are already 
 seated around him this " Swan Song of Parson 
 Avery," by Whittier : — 
 
 " When the reaper's task was ended, and the summer wearing 
 
 late, 
 Parson Avery sailed from Newbury, with his wife and children 
 
 eight, 
 Dropping down the river harbor in the shallop ' Watch and Wait.' 
 
 Pleasantly lay the clearings in the mellow summer morn, 
 
 With the newly planted orchards dropping their fruits first-born, 
 
 And the homesteads like green islands amid a sea of corn. 
 
 Broad meadows reached out seaward the tided creeks between, 
 And hills rolled wavelike inland, with oaks and walnuts green : 
 A fairer home, a goodlier land, his eyes had never seen. 
 
 Yet away sailed Parson Avery, away where duty led, 
 
 And the voice of God seemed calling, to break the living bread 
 
 To the souls of fishers starving on the rocks of Marblehead. 
 
 All day they sailed : at nightfall the pleasant land-breeze died, 
 The blackening sky at midnight its starry lights denied, 
 And far and low the thunder of tempest prophesied ! 
 
 Blotted out were all the coast lines, gone were rock and wood and 
 
 sand : 
 Grimly anxious stood the skipper, with the rudder in his hand, 
 And questioned of the darkness what was sea and what was land. 
 
 And the preacher heard his dear ones, nestled round him, weeping 
 
 sore : 
 ' Never heed, my little children ! Christ is walking on before 
 To the pleasant land of heaven, where the sea shall be no more.' 
 
 All at once the great cloud parted, like a curtain drawn aside, 
 To let down the torch of lightning on the terror far and wide ; 
 And the thunder and the whirlwind together smote the tide. 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 127 
 
 There was wailing in the shallop : woman's wail and man's despair, 
 A crash of breaking timbers on the rocks so sharp and bare, 
 And through it all the murmur of Father Avery's prayer. 
 
 From his struggle in the darkness with the wild waves and the 
 
 blast, 
 On a rock, where every billow broke above him as it passed, 
 Alone, of all his household, the man of God was cast. 
 
 There a comrade heard him praying, in the pause of wave and 
 
 wind : 
 'All my own have gone before me, and I linger just behind • 
 Not for life I ask, but only for the rest thy ransomed find ! 
 
 ' In this night of death I challenge the promise of thy Word ! 
 Let me see the great salvation of which mine ears have heard ! 
 Let me pass from hence forgiven, through the grace of Christ, our 
 Lord! 
 
 ' In the baptism of these waters wash white my every sin, 
 And let me follow up to thee my household and my kin ! 
 Open the sea-gate of thy heaven, and let me enter in ! ' 
 
 When the Christian sings his death-song, all the listening heavens 
 
 draw near; 
 And the angels, leaning over the walls of crystal, hear 
 How the notes, so faint and broken, swell to music in God's ear. 
 
 The ear of God was open to his servant's last request : 
 
 As the strong wave swept him downward, the sweet hymn upward 
 
 pressed, 
 And the soul of Father Avery went singing to its rest. 
 
 There was wailing on the mainland, from the rocks of Marblehead ; 
 In the stricken church of Newbury the notes of prayer were read; 
 And long by board and hearthstone the living mourned the dead. 
 
 And still the fishers outbound, or scudding from the squall, 
 With grave and reverent faces the ancient tale recall, 
 When they see the white waves breaking on the Rock of Avery's 
 Fall ! " 
 
128 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 With reference to Thatcher's Island, Mr. Bab- 
 son says : "It is estimated to contain about eighty 
 acres, most of which have patches of good soil, 
 affording rich pasturage for a few cattle. In 1714 
 it was purchased by Rev. John White for a hun- 
 dred pounds. He sold it in 1727, to Joseph Allen, 
 for a hundred and seventy-five pounds. In 1771 
 the Colonial Government became its owner at a 
 cost of five hundred pounds, and proceeded in the 
 same year to erect two lighthouses and a dwelling- 
 house on it. The lights were lighted for the first 
 time Dec. 21, 1771. At the commencement of 
 the Revolutionary War, the keeper of the lights 
 (Kirkwood) was forcibly removed from the island 
 by Captain Rogers's company of minute-men, as 
 a person inimical to the patriotic sentiments gen- 
 erally held by the people of the town. After a 
 lapse of time the lights were relighted, and have 
 ever since thrown forth their friendly beams to 
 greet the anxious mariner, and in the darkness of 
 night direct his way over the pathless sea." 
 
 A few years since, the ancient lighthouses were 
 taken down, and new ones erected in their places. 
 Together with these two unusually tall towers of 
 stone, there are substantial and comfortable dwell- 
 ings for the keepers and tenders of the lights, and 
 a building for the steam-engine, which, through 
 the hours and days of thick vapor or fog, sounds 
 the fog-horn to apprise approaching vessels of their 
 situation and danger. 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 129 
 
 The lighthouses are round towers, and so the 
 ascent to their lanterns of necessity is spiral. 
 From the balconies around the lanterns the views 
 are magnificent. But these costly shafts, uplifted 
 so high from their solid foundations toward the 
 heavens, are not chiefly noticeable for enabling the 
 vision of man to overlook so much of land and 
 sea, but for the power and splendor of their lights. 
 Far over the sea these lights are descried by ships 
 homeward bound from foreign ports, by fishing- 
 craft from the Gulf of Labrador or from the 
 Banks of Newfoundland, and by coasters follow- 
 ing the long and irregular shore from the British 
 Provinces and the ports of Maine to Massachusetts 
 Bay. Nearer, from the windows of hundreds of 
 dwellings, they are beheld night after night through 
 the years, almost as having the thought and care 
 of human forms, and as taking into themselves the 
 watchfulness of anxious thousands on shore, and 
 holding it far out over the waves in flames which 
 never become dim. The sea-birds, attracted by 
 the splendor of these quenchless flames, fly with 
 such force against the plates of glass which pro- 
 tect the flames from wind and storm, that they fall 
 dead upon the rocks around the towers. As moths 
 and millers are drawn to the lamp in the parlor, 
 so the wild goose, the brant, the black duck, the 
 loon, and the coot are drawn to the glowing lan- 
 tern on the lighthouse tower. But how much of 
 the world's interest, of man's concern, is blended 
 6* i 
 
130 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 with the rays which stream from the lofty tower 
 on the ocean's edge of rock and sand ! Longfellow 
 has not in too glowing numbers told his story of 
 the Lighthouse : — 
 
 -©■ 
 
 ' The rocky ledge runs far into the sea, 
 
 And on its outer point, some miles away, 
 The Lighthouse lifts its massive masonry, 
 A pillar of fire by night, of cloud by day. 
 
 Even at this distance I can see the tides, 
 Upheaving, break unheard along its base, 
 
 A speechless wrath, that rises and subsides 
 In the white lip and tremor of the face. 
 
 And, as the evening darkens, lo ! how bright, 
 Through the deep purple of the twilight air, 
 
 Beams forth the sudden radiance of its light, 
 With strange, unearthly splendor in its glare. 
 
 Nor one alone : from each projecting cape 
 And perilous reef along the ocean's verge, 
 
 Starts into life a dim, gigantic shape, 
 Holding its lantern o'er the restless surge. 
 
 Like the great giant Christopher it stands 
 Upon the brink of the tempestuous wave, 
 
 Wading far out among the rocks and sands, 
 The night-o'ertaken mariner to save. 
 
 And the great ships sail outward and return, 
 Bending and bowing o'er the billowy swells, 
 
 And ever joyful, as they see it burn, 
 
 They wave their silent welcomes and farewells. 
 
 They come forth from the darkness, and their sails 
 Gleam for a moment only in the blaze, 
 
 And eager faces, as the light unveils, 
 
 Gaze at the tower, and vanish while they gaze. 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 131 
 
 The mariner remembers when a child, 
 
 On his first voyage, he saw it fade and sink ; 
 
 And when, returning from adventures wild, 
 He saw it rise again o'er ocean's brink. 
 
 Steadfast, serene, immovable, the same 
 Year after year, through all the silent night, 
 
 Burns on for evermore that quenchless flame, 
 Shines on that inextinguishable light ! 
 
 It sees the ocean to its bosom clasp 
 
 The rocks and sea-sand with the kiss of peace ; 
 
 It sees the wild winds lift it in their grasp, 
 And hold it up, and shake it like a fleece. 
 
 The startled waves leap over it ; the storm 
 Smites it with all the scourges of the rain, 
 
 And steadily against its solid form 
 Press the great shoulders of the hurricane. 
 
 The sea-bird wheeling round it, with the din 
 
 Of wings, and winds, and solitary cries, 
 Blinded and maddened by the light within, 
 
 Dashes himself against the glare, and dies. 
 
 A new Prometheus, chained upon the rock, 
 Still grasping in his hand the fire of Jove, 
 
 It does not hear the cry, nor heed the shock, 
 But hails the mariner with words of love. 
 
 ' Sail on ! ' it says, ' sail on, ye stately ships ! 
 
 And with your floating bridge the ocean span ; 
 Be mine to guard this light from all eclipse ; 
 Be yours to bring man nearer unto man.' " 
 
 Having spent a few hours rambling over the 
 island, — now indulging grave reflections, and now 
 bright and cheerful fancies ; now musing over a 
 
132 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 broken spar lodged among the rocks where the 
 tide ebbs and flows ; and now observing the bril- 
 liant hue of the pimpernel, unfolded in the sun- 
 shine, and giving no hint of cloud or rain, — the 
 voyagers return to the yacht ; and, after running 
 westward by Pebble Stone Beach and Long Beach, 
 and then tacking and making a sweep around Milk 
 Island, sail homeward, passing the true " Avery's 
 Fall," as well as the south and east shore of 
 Thatcher's Island, and following the shore of the 
 Cape to Gap Head, and thence on a straight course, 
 crossing Sandy Bay, to the harbor of Pigeon Cove. 
 This ending of the little voyage is sometimes 
 unusually interesting and exciting for the appear- 
 ance of whales, — now and then a school of six or 
 eight, — spouting and playing hide-and-seek but 
 two or three hundred yards from the yacht. One 
 fair September day, in 1870, a party of Philadel- 
 phians, in a pleasure-boat, just departing from 
 Thatcher's Island, began to converse playfully of 
 the hidden monsters that might come to sight ; 
 perhaps too near the boat for the comfort of the 
 passengers. A gentleman on board with them, who 
 had been a long time familiar with the sea around 
 our headland, said that he had seen almost every 
 summer the kind of whales called blackfish, between 
 Thatcher's and Straitsmouth Islands, and in Sandy 
 and Ipswich Bays. Some of the company doubted, 
 or affected to doubt, his word, and gently asked, 
 " Have you not been telling a fish-story ? " But 
 
THE SAIL TO THATCHER'S ISLAND. 133 
 
 scarcely had this question escaped from their lips 
 before a noise came to the hearing of the persons 
 in the boat like the rushing of a wave up the 
 ascending floor of a beach, but more sudden and 
 not at all prolonged. Looking for the occasion 
 of the noise, and seeing two whales passing Flat 
 Point on their way to deeper water, " There are 
 two of the monsters now," said he ; " and, as luck 
 would have it, you have a fine chance to see with 
 your own eyes these immense creatures of the ocean, 
 now diving to the bottom of the sea, and now rising 
 to its surface, expelling water through the holes in 
 their heads from their closed capacious mouths." 
 A long while the excursionists watched the gam- 
 bols of the huge pair ; and when the whales had 
 gone a mile away, distinctly came to the hearing 
 of the curious gazers the sound of the spray which 
 they threw into the air with great force. 
 
 When Massachusetts Bay and Ipswich Bay are 
 thronged with menhaden, herring, or mackerel, 
 moving within sight of the shore from point to 
 point in schools, the extent of which is denoted 
 by the darker shade and bubbling of large spaces 
 of the ocean's surface, then the whales are likely 
 to appear in the same waters, devouring these 
 smaller inhabitants of the sea by hundreds in every 
 onset. But the whales in turn become game, and 
 are pursued also ; and the menhaden, herring, and 
 mackerel are no longer with fright shooting in 
 every direction from their wide-open jaws. The 
 
134 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 fishermen, in boats quietly following them, with 
 dexterous aim and thrust harpoon them. Some- 
 times, not having the whaler's instrument and line 
 at hand, with aid of rifles, fowling-pieces, and lusty 
 shouting, they drive them into some shallow bay 
 or cove, where the terrified monsters run aground, 
 and so are easily captured. Not many years since 
 five or six whales were in this manner driven 
 ashore near Bay View. When the tide went down, 
 they were left "high and dry," like stranded ships. 
 The large quantity of oil obtained amply repaid 
 the fishermen for their exercise of energy and dar- 
 ing. While the chase was progressing, since it had 
 not been engaged in out of mere wantonness, but 
 for honorable profit, the witnesses of it on the shore 
 were not unwilling lookers-on, and would not have 
 called Mr. Bergh to stop it, had he been at the 
 time within hailing distance. The sailing and 
 rowing were quite as skilful as horsemanship on the 
 race-course, and certainly, in the judgment of the 
 humane, ended in results not less noble. 
 
 Here ending discourse about whales, a few 
 words from Rev. Francis Higginson's Journal, 
 written in 1629, after he had crossed the ocean 
 from England to Salem, will not be inapposite. 
 Said the brave and enthusiastic minister to his 
 countrymen at home : " Our passage was both 
 pleasurable and profitable ; for we received instruc- 
 tion and delight in beholding the wonders of the 
 Lord in the deep waters, and sometimes seeing the 
 
BATHING AND SWIMMING. 
 
 135 
 
 sea round us appearing with a terrible countenance 
 and, as it were, full of high hills and deep valleys ; 
 and sometimes it appeared as a most plain and 
 even meadow. And ever and anon we saw divers 
 kinds of fishes sporting in the great waters, great 
 grampuses and huge whales, going by companies 
 and puffing up water streams. Those that love 
 their own chimney-corner, and dare not go far 
 beyond their own town's end, shall never have 
 the honor to see these wonderful works of 
 Almighty God." 
 
 BATHING AND SWIMMING. 
 
 SALVAGES FROM OCEAN AVENUE. 
 
 The facilities on the shore of Pigeon Cove for 
 bathing and swimming should not be overlooked. 
 It is but a short walk from the hotels and the vil- 
 
136 PIGEON COVE AND VICLNITY. 
 
 lage homes to the Bath. Here the granite shore is 
 as clean as the pure water of the ocean can wash 
 it ; and there are hollows and basins in the rocks, 
 and, over a barrier of stones outside of them, a 
 smooth granite floor across which are stretched 
 strong ropes made fast at each end to iron bolts 
 driven into holes drilled deep into a ledge or boul- 
 der. Every incoming tide brings to the granite 
 floor and to the hollows and basins a new supply 
 of cool, pure brine for the bathers. Every out- 
 going tide takes away the last water dashed over 
 them by the waves, leaving them clean and to 
 be wholly supplied again, on the return of the 
 untainted, wholesome sea. Ascending from the 
 bathing floor and basins to the clothing rooms of 
 the bath-house, at the brink of the high ground 
 above them, there is no need of a second bath to be 
 rid of clinging sea-weed and sand. And as to the 
 safety of still-bathing or surf -bathing here : the 
 first case of drowning has not yet occurred. After 
 fair trials on the beaches, as well as here on the 
 rocks, the majority of bathers prefer the clear, pure 
 water, and the clean, firm footing of the Bath at 
 Pigeon Cove. 
 
 The Gentlemen's Bath is at Hoop Pole Cove, 
 near the cove-end of Dawn Avenue. The descent 
 from the avenue to the water is easy. The 
 slightly sloping granite under water being thickly 
 carpeted with Iceland moss, the footing for bathers 
 who cannot swim is soft and agreeable. The boul- 
 
BATHING AND SWIMMING. 137 
 
 ders out in deep water, shaggy and maned with 
 sea-weed, are admirable seats for tired swimmers, 
 and immovable piers for the use of divers. Here, 
 so near the outermost point of the Cape, may be 
 enjoyed the full benefit of bathing and swimming. 
 There is no spot on the globe more apart from 
 unpleasant aspects or from disagreeable odors. 
 Fanned by sea-breezes, inhaling pure air, catch- 
 ing the healing perfumes which steal from the 
 pastures to the shore and become one with the 
 breath of the sea, bathers and swimmers here 
 attain the utmost enjoyment, the very ecstasy of 
 their recreation. It is surprising how many living 
 within sight of the sea know nothing of this rapt- 
 ure. How few of the millions of men on the earth 
 could sing from their own hearts these lines ! — 
 
 "And I have loved thee, Ocean ! and my joy 
 Of youthful sports was on thy breast to be 
 Borne, like bubbles, onward : from a boy 
 I wanton'd with thy breakers, — they to me 
 "Were a delight ; and if the freshening sea 
 Made them a terror, 'twas a pleasing fear. 
 For I was, as it were, a child of thee, 
 And trusted to thy billows far and near, 
 And laid my hand upon thy mane — as I do here." 
 
 Writing of the Bath at Pigeon Cove, Mrs. N. T. 
 Munroe says : " One of the principal businesses as 
 'well as pleasures of the sea-shore is bathing. To 
 come to the sea-shore and not bathe would be the 
 play of Hamlet, with Hamlet left out. And here 
 they come tripping down with bathing-dresses on 
 arm and bathing-hats on head. A few moments 
 
138 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 suffice for change of dress, and then they come 
 forth from the bathing-houses a merry company. 
 
 " Some bathe from a sense of duty, others for 
 pleasure and excitement. You can tell the dif- 
 ferent motives of the bathers at a glance. The 
 former go into the water as they would into a 
 dentist's chair. They nerve themselves up to it. 
 They stoop down, take off the hat, which they fill 
 with water and pour over head and shoulders, 
 then catching the rope they venture three or four 
 plunges, and the thing is done, the duty is per- 
 formed : they come out, and go dripping back to the 
 bathing-house, ' a damp, moist body.' Now none are 
 left but those who bathe for the love of it. It is 
 pleasant to watch them. After the first plunge and 
 its accompanying screeching and catching of breath 
 and shivering, then comes the pleasure of the thing. 
 Sit down on the wet rock, and let that great wave 
 come tumbling in over you, and the fine spray 
 sprinkle you. It is exhilarating. How cold the 
 water when it first dashed over you ! What a 
 glow now pervades your whole system ! How 
 strong are the waves, and yet they are compara- 
 tively nothing on this fine summer day. Think of 
 their power in storm and tempest. Think of your- 
 self, a poor, shipwrecked mortal, clinging to this 
 cold, hard rock while the great waves are thunder- 
 ing in upon you, and the surf smothering you, — no 
 foot-hold, your hands torn and bleeding, and not able 
 to clutch the cruel rock ; — don't you feel a pity for 
 

 BATHING AND SWIMMING. 139 
 
 yourself? Or what if you were on one of these 
 rocks, surprised by the tide, and seeing no way 
 to get off? You see the water rising slowly and 
 surely ; you calculate how long before it reach 
 your waist, your arms, your neck, your mouth ; — 
 and you are smothered — dead ! Ah ! a fearful 
 grave is this of the cold, cold sea. Prometheus 
 chained to his rock, 4 the vulture at his vitals ; ' 
 Andromeda, ' bound on the sea-girt rock which is 
 washed by the surges for ever,' waiting for 4 the 
 mystical fish of the seas' to come and devour her; 
 Simeon Stylites standing on his pillar, ' a sign 
 betwixt the meadow and the cloud, that he might 
 have the meed of the saint's " white robe and the 
 palm," ' — might, to be sure, beseech the cold, surg- 
 ing waves to cover them, and end their horror and 
 their agony. But all this bounding, beating life of 
 ours cries out against being thus swallowed up 
 by the waters. It was a most distressful cry, that 
 of David: 'All thy waves and thy billows are 
 gone over me ! ' 
 
 " But here the water is pleasant and agreeable : 
 we stretch out our arms and embrace it ; we catch 
 the crystal drops as they come showering down, 
 and we have breath enough to say with Byron, 
 
 ' And I do love thee, Ocean ! ' 
 
 " But even bathing must have an end, and at last 
 we come forth from the surf, ' dripping and very 
 wet ; ' and this business — pleasure — of the day is 
 over." 
 
140 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 
 
 THE NEW PIGEON COVE HOUSE. 
 
 The trees and flowers of our Cape attract the 
 especial notice of visitors. Coming to a region 
 of ledges and boulders swept by ocean winds 
 from almost every quarter, expecting to roam 
 over a gra} r waste and to survey from every point 
 of view only barrenness hemmed in by the blue 
 sea, they marvel on beholding extensive tracts of 
 woodland, making so beautiful a contrast both 
 with the gray, mossy stones, and the blue or the 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 141 
 
 white-crested waves. Even the pastures, which 
 have been a long time shorn of their ancient syl- 
 van beauty, are not naked. They have put on a 
 mottled garment of sumac-trees, barberry-bushes, 
 bayberry-shrubs, sweet-ferns, huckleberry patches, 
 high and low blackberries in braid and tangle, and 
 white clover, and the common upland grasses in 
 broad folds and spangled scarfs. At some points 
 close to the sea, the woods are majestic. Else- 
 where the stunted yellow-pines, in connection with 
 the rocks and the sea, seem just as admirably in 
 place, and remind one of what Ruskin observes 
 in admiration of the stone-pines of Italy. In the 
 more extensive woods, the oaks, maples, birches, 
 and pines, common in other parts of New England, 
 are found. The hickory grows in every woodland 
 tract, the butternut in a few places ; but the 
 chestnut is nowhere seen. Some divisions of the 
 forest are almost entirely covered with beeches. 
 There is a thrifty grove of oaks in the Lanesville 
 woods, — the result of the attempt of one man to 
 raise a grove from the sowing of acorns. He lived 
 to walk in the shade of these trees. There are 
 white-pines here and there, in groups, which over- 
 top all other trees of the forest. And on many 
 knolls and slopes there are groves of young white- 
 pines, so thickly planted that the ground which 
 they cover is but sparsely flecked with sunlight. 
 Walking on the dry, red needles, beneath their 
 dense green roofs, one tries in vain to get a glimpse 
 
142 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 of the sky. In these groves there is the stillness 
 of far-off woods, where no man passes by, — the 
 stillness which is only broken by the note of a tiny 
 flycatcher, or the soft, sweet song of the hermit 
 thrush. The tupelo, or crab-tree, — in the Middle 
 States called the sour-gum tree, — grows both in 
 moist places and on high grounds. It is a beauti- 
 ful tree, both for the fashion of its branches, and 
 the gloss of its dark-green leaves. Its limbs stretch 
 out from the trunk all round, horizontally, the 
 topmost farthest ; and all, from the trunk to the 
 outermost twigs, with angles, giving a gnarled 
 effect : so that the tree is wide and flat on the top, 
 and gnarled throughout. It is the first of the 
 trees of the forest to show, amid the general green 
 and shade, the flame of ripened leaves. Before 
 the white-birch exhibits a single leaf of orange, 
 before the maple of the swamp holds out to our 
 sight its earliest spray of scarlet, the tupelo is a 
 beacon in full blaze, lighting up the sylvan shad- 
 ows as the pillar of fire lighted up the gloom 
 of night. The elm towers gracefully from the 
 deep soil of our meadows and ravines, but most 
 of the elms of our streets and homesteads were 
 brought from abroad ; many from Ipswich, and 
 some from far-off valleys of New Hampshire and 
 Maine. The ash is a common tree in our woods; 
 and when the various colors of the autumn leaves 
 are brightest, its delicate amber is presented in the 
 gorgeous display. The hemlock, justly praised by 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 143 
 
 Downing as one of the more beautiful of the ever- 
 greens, is as much at home on our rocky slopes and 
 ridges as on the banks of the Mattawamkeag, or 
 the hills and promontories around Umbagog or 
 Moosehead Lake. The red-cedars, or savins, are 
 thickly scattered over many of the pastures. Their 
 dark-hued, taper shapes, rigid and erect, alike 
 through calm and storm, through summer's heat 
 and winter's cold, scarcely showing from year to 
 year a change from growth, are the Stoics of the 
 realm of trees. To them it is all the same, if the 
 air be bland and sweet, or rigorous and bitter with 
 tempest and hail. Of all heights, from the tiny 
 ones of two feet to the full-grown of fifteen and 
 twenty, they stand on hill-tops, ledges, and slopes ; 
 on the edges of precipices ; here and there clinging 
 to the perpendicular front of a precipice, their 
 foothold but a crevice or crack midway from the 
 ground or brink ; singly and in groups over acres 
 on acres of granite steeps and rugged undulations. 
 They are ever inflexible, Avithout perceptible muta- 
 tion, whether the sward is green and sprinkled 
 with white-clover blossoms, or wearing a hoary 
 covering of frost and snow ; whether the purple 
 finches come in the fervid season to dwell and sin^ 
 on their fragrant, evergreen branches, or the quails 
 in the frigid months to cuddle on the ground 
 beneath them. And there are flowering trees and 
 shrubs which fulfil charmingly a part of the be- 
 neficent appointment of God, that the hard and 
 
141 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 rough places of the earth should be clothed and 
 adorned. Conspicuous among these are the locusts. 
 When in blossom, these trees, in groups near many- 
 dwellings, and in rows by the roadside, are as 
 snowy clouds, hanging low, and touching roof and 
 wall, and trailing along the ground. Far around 
 them the air is laden with their perfume. The wild 
 red-cherry, the shad-bush, the alders, the sumacs, 
 the barberry-bush, the elders, the wild-roses, and 
 the laurels, all present their show of beauty in 
 their appointed seasons. The mountain-laurels in 
 our woods, as thrifty and rank a short distance 
 southward from Cape Pond as anywhere in Mary- 
 land or Virginia, in their midsummer time of put- 
 ting forth flowers, crowd upon the rambler in the 
 widest forest path with their splendid display. 
 In the swamps of the West Parish of Gloucester, 
 they vie with the magnolias in giving the wildest 
 and most neglected nooks the magnificence of an 
 Eden. 
 
 It is delightful to read in Parson Higginson's 
 Journal of his voyage across the Atlantic, bearing 
 the far-back date of 1629, his account of the trees 
 and flowers near and upon our Cape. " On Fri- 
 day, the 26th of June : The sea was abundantly 
 stored with rockweed and yellow flowers, like 
 gilliflowers. By noon we were within three leagues 
 of Cape Ann ; and, as we sailed along the coasts, 
 we saw every hill and dale and every island full 
 of gay woods and high trees. The nearer we 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF GAPE ANN. 145 
 
 came to the shore, the more flowers in abundance, 
 sometimes scattered abroad, sometimes joined in 
 sheets nine or ten yards long, which we supposed 
 to be brought from the low meadows by the tide. 
 Now what with fine woods and green trees by 
 land, and these yellow flowers painting the sea, 
 made us all desirous to see our new paradise of 
 New England, whence we saw such forerunning 
 signals of fertility afar off." After describing the 
 slow progress of the following day, and much 
 trouble late in the afternoon, because of " a fearful 
 gust of wind and rain and thunder and lightning," 
 " We had a westerly wind, which brought us, 
 between five and six o'clock, to a fine, sweet 
 harbor, seven miles from the headpoint of Cape 
 Ann ; . . . where there was an island, whither 
 four of our men with a boat went, and brought 
 back again ripe strawberries and gooseberries, and 
 sweet single roses." When the Sabbath and its 
 rest and worship had passed, and the ship pro- 
 ceeded toward Salem, " It was wonderful to be- 
 hold so many islands, replenished with thick woods 
 and high trees, and many fair green pastures." 
 
 The good parson's particular notice of the 
 " sweet single roses," which were brought to the 
 ship from Ten Pound Island in Gloucester Har- 
 bor, as well as his previous observation of the but- 
 tercups that floated to the ship's side from Ipswich 
 Bay, was but a hint to his friends in England of 
 the profusion of floral gifts from the Creator's hand 
 7 j 
 
146 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 on every rood of our rocky Cape ; for the same 
 lavishment of flowers on this " fair headland " is 
 witnessed to-day. In whatever direction the florist 
 strays, the wild-flowers hear his step, and wave 
 to him their showy and bold, or timid and 
 modest signals of recognition and welcome. The 
 rich may withhold from him such favor and en- 
 couragement as they might bestow; for the flowers 
 will come to him with their silver and golden cups, 
 and make him opulent. The holders of place, 
 and dispensers of position and honor, may deny 
 his ability to take upon himself responsibility and 
 trust, and refuse to clothe him with the robes of 
 power ; for the flowers will lead him into paths 
 traversing fields of the noblest and most delightful 
 employment, and will bring to him, as the best and 
 most glorious symbols of eminence, their own royal 
 blue and purple and scarlet. The door-keepers 
 and guardians of refined and polished society may 
 fail to perceive his intellectual and spiritual fitness 
 for the order of life to which he would be admitted ; 
 for the flowers will open to him their own wide 
 gates, arched with vines and decorated with leaves 
 and blossoms ; grant him admission to companion- 
 ship which cannot be lowered by the dross of envy 
 and jealousy, or the alloy of vanity ; receive him 
 with acclamations which, though silent, are heard 
 by his inward ear ; pass by him in gay processions, 
 waving flags of every hue, and swinging censers 
 filled with the sweetest incense. With them he 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 147 
 
 will have the wealth, place, distinction, employ- 
 ment, society, pomp, and aroma, which no change 
 or revolution in the world of human life can affect. 
 The trailing arbutus in the Magnolia Woods 
 comes in the spring with its sweet benediction ; 
 the hepatica, in the same locality and almost every- 
 where. The white flowers of the blood-root deck a 
 few sunny slopes. The dog's-tooth violets swing 
 their golden bells. The delicate wind-flowers 
 tremble to the lightest breeze. The yellow cow- 
 slips star the swamps. The blue violets tuft the 
 fields, pastures, and roadsides. The dandelions 
 smile on the lawn, in the edge of the wood, in the 
 mowing, on the shore of the sea, on the border of 
 every path, and in the very track of passing feet. 
 The innocents, or quaker-girls, come in swarms, 
 whitening the sward. The saxifrage holds up to 
 be seen its modest little cyme. The yellow violets 
 show themselves cautiously on a few sunny slopes. 
 The columbines adorn the ledges and cliffs, grow- 
 ing where the soil is gravelly and thin, and from 
 cracks and crevices in the steep fronts of granite 
 piles of every height. The white violets spread in 
 squads over many moist or springy places. They are 
 precious though tiny flowers, both for delicacy and 
 exquisite fragrance. The nodding wake-robins, 
 coming with the warmth and glory of summer, hang 
 their heads in thickets by the wall, or in the shade of 
 the woods, as if ashamed of their own unpleasant 
 atmosphere. The smiling wake-robins spring up 
 
148 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 in the pines, a cheerful crowd with white, pink- 
 tinted faces, rejoicing in the certainty of gladden- 
 ing the eye and the heart of the rambler seeking 
 them. The sweet-brier rose, or eglantine, here and 
 there charily, and the more common wild-rose, 
 everywhere generously, unfold their charms while 
 the fervors of summer increase. The crimson past- 
 ure-lilies, with flecks of black within their cups, 
 burn as so many thousand torches, not to consume 
 or destroy all surrounding life, but to illuminate 
 the broad and sober areas of close-cropped grass, 
 ledges and boulders, interspersed with extensive 
 divisions of densely growing huckleberry-shrubs 
 and blackberry-vines. The pitcher-plant, in the 
 wildest swamps, brings forth its superb gift, — a 
 beautifully fashioned pitcher, filled with water, in 
 one hand, and a curiously constructed, splendid 
 flower in the other. The cardinal lobelias, arrayed 
 in scarlet, stand in line like red-coated soldiers 
 on the brink of a brook, overtopped by a rear line 
 of black alders. The contrast as seen across the 
 brook is striking. But the eye is not always seek- 
 ing such contrasts. It often turns from the scarlet- 
 clad cardinals, though they exhibit their splendor 
 all along the marge of a lakelet or stream, to ex- 
 amine the shy little blossoms which hide in the 
 grass, or are content to share a lowly, unattractive 
 spot with gravel and sand. The pimpernel, in a 
 bare place by the sea, often overswept by the spra}^ 
 never crowded by the flowers that love and cling 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 149 
 
 to fertile spots, that enjoy taking part in grand 
 displays, lives to be useful as well as to adorn its 
 sterile home. It is " the poor man's weather-glass," 
 telling him when to close his doors and windows 
 against the storm, and when to open them again for 
 the free ingress of the beneficent sunshine, and of- 
 the breeze from the sea, redolent with brine. The 
 modest bellworts of the wood, the simple blue-e} T ed 
 grass of the swale, the humble primrose of the 
 pasture, and many other common, lowly flowers, 
 scattered over our sea-girdled territory, keep the 
 florist busy in his charming pursuit, throughout 
 the summer, and richly reward him for all his 
 painstaking and study. The twin-flowers, both 
 beautiful and sweet, are not the least attractive of 
 the manifold wonders in the South Woods. Lin- 
 ncea borealis, — the union of the great botanist's love 
 with the fairest hue of the northern sky, — how 
 suitable a name for these flowers so charmingly dis- 
 posed on the slender, creeping, trailing branches of 
 an evergreen plant, which cover the roots of decay- 
 ing stumps and little mossy mounds ! The orchis, 
 the iris, the water-lilies, as well as the earlier yel- 
 low lady's-slipper of June, and the taller, queenlier 
 lady's-slipper of July, are soon followed by the 
 autumnal flowers. Before the days of autumn 
 come, or the reign of the dog-star ceases, the gold- 
 en-rods begin to change from green into yellow, 
 and earth and sea and sky to show premonishing 
 signs of the nearness of September and October. 
 
150 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Group by group the autumnal flowers appear : the 
 golden-rod with full and showy plumes in every 
 part of the landscape ; the asters, in their style as 
 conspicuous and as abounding ; the fall dandelions, 
 sprinkled over all the acres from the hill-tops to 
 the sea ; — all uniting with the ripening apples and 
 pears of the orchards, the painted tupelo, ash, oak, 
 walnut, birch, maple, and beech of the forest, the 
 sumac, ivy, bramble, and. woodbine of the less 
 covered grounds ; the barberry-bushes in clumps, 
 on the knolls and slopes of the pastures and along 
 by the walls, with depending clusters of blood-red 
 berries ; the sky and clouds, gorgeous with all the 
 colors of the rainbow at every going-down of the 
 sun, — all uniting with these objects to give the last 
 days of the harvest-season, ere they pass away, a 
 sober but rich and befitting splendor. But even 
 when the autumnal magnificence is with the past ; 
 when the November frosts have done on the hills 
 and in the meadows their blighting and numbing 
 work, and the sky is dun, and the earth is cold, 
 now and then come days of golden sun and golden 
 haze, when the rambler, beginning to climb through 
 the beeches the northern slope of Pigeon Hill, sees 
 the herb-robert still green and adorned with flow- 
 ers just blown, on rough rocks deeply embedded in 
 dead leaves ; and making his way, afterwards, to 
 the sea, he discovers on a low bush a "sweet sin- 
 gle rose," and farther, on the " ocean's edge," a 
 pimpernel of brightest dye. 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 151 
 
 Here is annexed a list of the Trees, Shrubs, and 
 Plants of our Cape, which have come under the 
 notice of Mr. Calvin W. Pool, of Rockport, during 
 the last ten or twelve years. Having promptly 
 responded to a note asking for it, Mr. Pool says : — 
 
 " The list is, I think, quite accurate as far as it 
 goes ; but it does not include perhaps more than a 
 quarter part of the plants which may be found 
 here. 
 
 " It shows how far I have gone in the analysis of 
 the plants of this town, — a work which I take up 
 as leisure and inclination prompt me. 
 
 " I have given first the scientific name (according 
 to Gray) and then the common or popular name of 
 each specimen. 
 
 " Probably, had I more time, I could enlarge the 
 list very considerably ; but, as it is, it gives a very 
 good idea of the Flora of the town." 
 
 TREES. 
 
 Acer Pennsylvanicum Striped Maple. 
 
 „ spicatum Mountain „ 
 
 ,, saccharinum Sugar ,, 
 
 ,, rubrum . . , Bed ,, 
 
 Robinia Pseudacaeia Locust. 
 
 Prunus Pennsylvania Wild Eed Cherry. 
 
 ,, Virginiana Choke Cherry. 
 
 ,, serotina Black Cherry. 
 
 Nyssa multiflora Tupelo Tree. 
 
 Fraxinua Americana White Ash. 
 
 ,, sambncifblia Black ,, 
 
 Ulmus Americana American Elm. 
 
 Carya alba Shellbark. 
 
152 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Quercus alba White Oak. 
 
 ,, ilicifolia Scrub ,, 
 
 ,, rubra Red „ 
 
 Fagus ferrugiuea American Beech. 
 
 Carpinus Americana Hornbeam. 
 
 Betula alba White Birch. 
 
 „ excelsa Yellow „ 
 
 ,, lenta Black „ 
 
 ,, pumila Low „ 
 
 Populus tremuloides American Aspen. 
 
 ., balsamifera Balsam Poplar. 
 
 Pinus rigida Pitch Pine. 
 
 „ strobus White „ 
 
 Abies Canadensis Hemlock Spruce. 
 
 „ alba White „ 
 
 Juniperus Virginiana Bed Cedar. 
 
 SHRUBS. 
 
 Sassafras officinale Sassafras. 
 
 Myrica cerifera Bayberry. 
 
 Comptonia asplenifolia Sweet Fern. 
 
 Juniperus communis Juniper. 
 
 Clematis Virginiana Virgin's Bower. 
 
 Berberis communis Barberry. 
 
 Rhus typhina Staghorn Sumac. 
 
 ,, venenata Poison ,, 
 
 ,, Toxicodendron ,, Ivy. 
 
 Ampelopsis quinquefolia Virginian Creeper. 
 
 Rhamnus catharticus Buckthorn. 
 
 Spiraea tomentosa Hardhack. 
 
 Rosa lucida Dwarf Wild Rose. 
 
 „ Carolina Swamp Rose. 
 
 Pyrus arbutifolia Choke Berry. 
 
 Amelanchier Canadensis Shad Bush. 
 
 Var. botryapium 
 
 Hamamelis Virginica Witch Hazel. 
 
 Cornus altemifolia Dogwood. 
 
 Lonicera ciliata Fly Honeysuckle. 
 
 Diervilla trifida Bush „ 
 
 Sambucus Canadensis Common Elder. 
 
 „ pubens Red-berried Elder. 
 
TREES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 153 
 
 Viburnum nudum Withe Rod. 
 
 „ dentatum Arrow Wood. 
 
 „ acerifolium Maple-leaved Arrow Wood. 
 
 ,, lantanoides Wayfaring Tree. 
 
 Cephalanthus occidentalis Button Bush. 
 
 Gaylussacia resinosa Black Huckleberry. 
 
 Vaccinium vacillans Low Blueberry. 
 
 „ corymbosum Swamp „ 
 
 Cassandra calyculata Leather Leaf. 
 
 Andromeda ligustrina 
 
 Clethra alnifolia White Alder. 
 
 Kalmia latifolia Mountain Laurel. 
 
 „ angustifolia Sheep Laurel. 
 
 Rhodora Canadensis 
 
 Ilex verticillata Black Alder. 
 
 „ glabra Inkberry. 
 
 Nemopanthes Canadensis Mountain Holly. 
 
 HERBS. 
 
 Anemone nemorosa Wind Flower. 
 
 Hepatica triloba Liver Leaf. 
 
 Thalictrum divicum Early Meadow Rue. 
 
 ,, Cornuti Meadow Rue. 
 
 Ranunculus bulbosus Buttercup. 
 
 „ acris Tall Buttercup. 
 
 Caltha palustris Marsh Marigold. 
 
 Coptis trifolia Gold Thread. 
 
 Aquilegia Canadensis Wild Columbine. 
 
 Nymphsea odorata Water Lily. 
 
 Nuphar advena Yellow Pond Lily. 
 
 Sarracenia purpurea Side-saddle Flower. 
 
 Dicentra cucullaria Dutchman's Breeches. 
 
 Corydalis glauca Pale Corydalis. 
 
 Capsella Bursa-pastoris Shepherd's Purse. 
 
 Cakile Americana Sea Rocket. 
 
 Viola rotundifolia Round -leaved Violet. 
 
 „ lanceolata Lance-leaved ,, 
 
 ,, primulaefolia Primrose „ 
 
 „ cucullata Common Blue ,, 
 
 „ pubescens, Downy Yellow ,, 
 
 ., tricolor Heart' s-ease, Pansy. 
 
 7* 
 
154 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Helianthemum Canadense Frost Weed. 
 
 Drosera rotundifolia Sun Dew. 
 
 Hypericum perfoliatum Saint John's Wort. 
 
 Arenaria peploides Sea Sand Wort. 
 
 „ serpyllifolia Thyme-leaved Sand Wort. 
 
 Cerastium nutans Chiekweed. 
 
 „ arvcnse Field Chiekweed. 
 
 Spergularia rubra Spurrey Sand Wort. 
 
 Malva rotundifolia Common Mallow. 
 
 Oxalis stricta Wood Sorrel. 
 
 Geranium maculatum Wild Cranesbill. 
 
 Geranium Robertianum Herb-Robert. 
 
 Impatiens fulva Jewel Weed. 
 
 Trifolium arvense Stone Clover. 
 
 „ pra tense Red ,, 
 
 „ repens White ,, 
 
 Plantago major Plantain. 
 
 „ maritimus Seaside Plantain. 
 
 Lathyrus maritimus Beach Pea. 
 
 Apios tuberosa Wild Bean. 
 
 Agrimonia eupatoria Common Agrimony. 
 
 Potentilla argentea Silvery Cinque-foil. 
 
 „ Canadensis Common Cinque-foil. 
 
 ,, anserina Silver Weed. 
 
 Fragaria Yirginiana Strawberry. 
 
 Rubus strigosus Wild Red Raspberry. 
 
 „ villosus High Blackberry. 
 
 „ Canadensis Low ,, 
 
 Epilobium angustifolium Great Willow-Herb. 
 
 „ coloratum 
 
 (Enothera biennis Evening Primrose. 
 
 „ pumila Smooth „ 
 
 Circsea Lutetiana 
 
 „ alpina 
 
 Saxifraga Virginensis Early Saxifrage. 
 
 Cicuta maculata Spotted Cowbane. 
 
 Aralia nudicaulis Wild Sarsaparilla. 
 
 Cornus Canadensis Bunch Berry. 
 
 Linnsea borealis Twin Flower. 
 
 Mitchella repens Partridge Berry. 
 
 Oldenlandia casrulea Bluets. 
 
 Eupatorium perfoliatum Boneset. 
 
TKEES AND FLOWERS OF CAPE ANN. 155 
 
 Achillea millefolium Yarrow. 
 
 Leucanthemum vulgaiv. Ox-eye Daisy. 
 
 Artemisia Absinthium Wormwood. 
 
 Lappa major Burdock. 
 
 Ciehorium intybus Succory. 
 
 Krigia Virginica Dwarf Dandelion 
 
 Taraxacum Dens-leonis Common Dandelion. 
 
 Lobelia cardinalis Cardinal Flower. 
 
 Specularia perfoliata Venus's Looking-glass. 
 
 Vaccinium oxycoccus Small Cranberry. 
 
 Gaultberia procumbens Creeping Wintergreen. 
 
 Pyrola rotundifolia Round-leaved Pyrola. 
 
 Chimaphila umbellata Prince's Pine. 
 
 Monotropa unitlora Corpse Plant. 
 
 „ hypopitys False Beech Drops. 
 
 Statice Caroliniana Marsh Rosemary. 
 
 Trientalis Americana Star Flower. 
 
 Lysimachia stricta Loosestrife. 
 
 ,, quadrifolia 
 
 Anagallis arvensis Pimpernel. 
 
 Ctricularia cornuta Bladderwort. 
 
 Verbascum thapsus Common Mullein. 
 
 Linaria Canadensis Wild Toad-flax. 
 
 ,, vulgaris Butter and Eggs. 
 
 Chelone glabra Snake Head. 
 
 Mimulus ringens Monkey-Flower. 
 
 Veronica peregrina Purselane Speedwell. 
 
 Gerardia purpurea Purple Gerardia. 
 
 ,, flava Downy False Foxglove. 
 
 Pedicularis Canadensis Wood Betony. 
 
 Melampyrum Americauum Cow Wheat. 
 
 Verbena hastata Blue Vervain. 
 
 Mentha viridis Spearmint. 
 
 „ piperita Peppermint. 
 
 Nepeta Cataria Catnip. 
 
 „ Glechoma Ground Ivy. 
 
 Brunella vulgaris Fleal-AU. 
 
 Leonurus Cardiaca Motherwort. 
 
 Calystegia sepium Hedge Bindweed. 
 
 Cuscuta Gronovii Dodder. 
 
 Solanum Dulcamara Bittersweet. 
 
 Kicandra physaloides Apple of Peru. 
 
156 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Apocynum androssemifolium Spreading Dogbane. 
 
 Asclepias Cornuti Milkweed. 
 
 „ obtusifolia Wavy-leaved Milkweed. 
 
 Phytolacca decandra Pigeon Berry. 
 
 Urtica urens Stinging Nettle. 
 
 Arissema triphyllum Indian Turnip. 
 
 Symplocarpus foetidus Skunk Cabbage. 
 
 Zostera marina Grass Wrack. 
 
 Orchis blephariglottis Yellow-fringed Orchis. 
 
 Spiranthes cernua Ladies 1 Tresses. 
 
 Arethusa bulbosa 
 
 Pogonia ophioglossoides 
 
 Calopogon pulchellus 
 
 Corallorhiza multiflora Coral Root. 
 
 Cypripedium acaule Lady's Slipper. 
 
 Iris versicolor Blue Flag. 
 
 Sisyrinchium Burmudiana Blue-eyed Grass. 
 
 Smilax rotundifolia Greenbrier. 
 
 ,, herbacea Carrion Flower. 
 
 Polygonatum biflorum Solomon's Seal. 
 
 Smilacina racemosa Soikenard. 
 
 „ stellata .... 
 
 „ trifolia 
 
 ,, bifolia 
 
 Convallaria majalis Lily of the Valley. 
 
 Clintonia borealis 
 
 Ornithogalum umbellatum Star of Bethlehem. 
 
 Lilium Philadelphicum Orange-red Lily. 
 
 „ Canadense Yellow Lily. 
 
 Erythronium Americanum Dog's-tooth Violet. 
 
 Uvularia perfoliata Bellwort. 
 
 ,, sessilitblia 
 
 Streptopus roseus Twisted Stalk. 
 
 Pontederia cordata Pickerel Weed. 
 
 Goodyera repens Rattlesnake Plantain. 
 
 FERNS. 
 
 Adiantum pedatum Maidenhair. 
 
 Asplenium Filix-foemina 
 
 Aspidium marginale 
 
 Osmunda regalis Flowering Fern. 
 
 „ cinnamomea Cinnamon ,, 
 
 Polypodium vulgare 
 
ANIMALS AND BIEDS OF CAPE ANN. 157 
 
 ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 
 
 DICK'S DREAM. 
 
 Something again from Rev. Mr. Higginson. In 
 a narrative following the journal of his voyage, 
 from which some selections have been made, he 
 wrote for the information of his friends in England 
 concerning the " earth of New England, and all the 
 appurtenances thereof." The paragraphs contain- 
 ing what he had learned of the animals and birds 
 of this region are interesting. 
 
 " For beasts, there are some bears, and they say 
 some lions ; for they have been seen at Cape Ann." 
 (As to the lions, they were put in the woods of the 
 Cape by the imagination of some timid persons. The 
 writer had been misled by hearsay.) " Also here 
 are several sorts of deer, some whereof bring three 
 or four young ones at once, which is not ordinary in 
 
158 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 England ; also wolves, foxes, beavers, otters, mar- 
 tens, great wild-cats, and a great beast called a 
 molke, as big as an ox." (" Molke " is probably a 
 mistake of the printer for moose.') " I have seen 
 the skins of all these beasts since I came to this 
 Plantation excepting lions. Also here are great 
 store of squirrels, some greater, and some smaller 
 and lesser ; there are some of the lesser sort, they 
 tell me, that by a certain skin will fly from tree to 
 tree, though they stand far distant." 
 
 " Fowls of the air are plentiful here, and of all 
 sorts as we have in England, as far I can learn, and 
 a great many of strange fowls, which we know not. 
 Whilst I was writing these things, one of our men 
 brought home an eaole which he had killed in the 
 wood : they say they are good meat. Also here are 
 many kinds of excellent hawks, both sea-hawks 
 and land-hawks ; and myself, walking in the woods 
 with another in company, sprung a partridge so big 
 that through the heaviness of his body could fly but 
 a little way : they that have killed them say that 
 they are as big as our hens. Here are likewise 
 abundance of turkeys, and exceeding fat, sweet, and 
 fleshy ; for here they have abundance of feeding 
 all the year long, as strawberries (in summer all 
 places are full of them) and all manner of berries 
 and fruits. In the winter time I have seen flocks 
 of pigeons, and have eaten of them. They do fly 
 from tree to tree as other birds do, which pigeons 
 will not do in England. They are of all colors, as 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 159 
 
 ours are, but their wings and tails are longer; and 
 therefore it is likely the}' fly swifter to escape the 
 terrible hawks in this country. In winter time 
 this country doth abound with wild geese, wild 
 ducks, and other sea-fowl, that the great part of 
 winter the planters have eaten nothing but roast 
 meat of divers fowls which they have killed." 
 
 Of the animals mentioned by this clergyman of 
 the olden time, only the red foxes, stone-martens, 
 and some of the squirrels remain on the Cape. 
 Long ago, the bears, moose, red deer, beavers, 
 otters, wolves, and wild-cats were exterminated, or 
 they retired from the increasing and spreading 
 towns into the distant wilds of the north and north- 
 east, where the White Hills keep ward over their 
 w T oody retreats, or the upper rivulets of the Andros- 
 coggin, Kennebec, and Penobscot, reflecting the 
 smile of heaven, meander through their dark range 
 of shelter and subsistence. The foxes in our woods, 
 being so few, are scarcely a terror to the ruffed 
 grouse setting on her nest of eggs, or luring her 
 chickens from under-brush and shade into sunny 
 spots where the footpaths intersect. The stone- 
 martens, though hunted and trapped every winter 
 for their valuable fur, are still numerous on the 
 sea-shore, where they have safe recesses, inaccessi- 
 ble hiding-places, and sinuous passages beneath the 
 rocks, and where daily the constant tides bring to 
 them fishes and crabs, and now and then small lob- 
 sters. The red and striped squirrels in the forest, 
 
160 PIGEON CO YE AND VICINITY. 
 
 and near the cornfields, suddenly apprise the ram- 
 bler that his coming is observed. The gray and 
 flying squirrels are seldom seen. Beside these 
 foxes, stone-martens, and squirrels, are two species 
 of rabbits, more numerous, perhaps, than the stone- 
 martens ; the larger having their burrows in rocky 
 and bush-covered steeps, around morasses thickly 
 overgrown with alders ; the smaller having theirs 
 in the pastures, nearer the habitations of men, 
 under the low branches of the dwarf white-oaks 
 and the stunted yellow-pines. There are also, in 
 different localities, musk-rats, weasels, moles, and 
 other little quadrupeds, but not in numbers to 
 occasion special remark. 
 
 But of the birds, or of their kinds, there is no 
 diminution. Mr. Higginson did not write to his 
 friends in England of the birds in the new land, 
 serving in use and song instead of the sky-lark, 
 nightingale, robin, starling, and linnet. But his 
 oversight is not more remarkable than that of 
 thousands to-day. It is not certain that every sec- 
 ond or fourth or eighth person, meeting and con- 
 versing with his neighbor in the present time, in 
 attempting to enumerate the different classes of 
 land and water birds, would accomplish more than 
 Mr. Higginson did. Even Dr. Palfrey, in his 
 " History of New England," gives a surprisingly 
 small list of birds. Hundreds of persons in every 
 village or town, who know the robin, oriole, blue- 
 bird, cat-bird, blue-jay, wren, song-sparrow, chip- 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 161 
 
 ping-sparrow, crow, blackbird, and barn and chim- 
 ney swallows, do not dream that these are but a small 
 beginning of the list that might be made on any 
 summer's day within a mile of their own homes. 
 The red-eyed and the warbling vireos build their 
 nests and sing their songs in the maples which 
 shade their own lawns and door-steps ; but they do 
 not distinguish them from other birds. They have 
 not been accustomed to separating the birds into 
 families, and observing the near relationship of 
 some, and the wide differences of others. They 
 have had no experience of the pleasure of telling a 
 bird, near or distant, by his flight or his song. If 
 the golden-winged woodpecker on the aged oak 
 or tupelo, beyond the garden wall, makes the air 
 of the spring morning ring with his many times 
 quickly repeated note, they only think indiffer- 
 ently, "It is the noise of some bird ; " though 
 the ornithologist is lifted up from sleep or despon- 
 dency by the happy sound, exclaiming delightedly, 
 " It is the laughter of the golden-winged wood- 
 pecker ! " and looks forth from his window eagerly 
 to catch sight of his gold and scarlet adorning, and 
 the crescent of jet across his breast. The Balti- 
 more oriole in the elm, sounding his call like a 
 gay trumpeter ; the bobolink, showering his notes 
 ecstatically over field and meadow ; the wood- 
 thrush, from a swelling throat pouring flute-notes 
 in the shady seclusion of the hemlocks and pines ; 
 and the brown thrasher, singing royally on a 
 
162 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 branch overstretching a thicket of aiders and bram- 
 bles, — an inimitable composition, — are not in their 
 minds connected with pleasant memories, and do 
 not seem to them as so many friends with marked 
 bnt pleasing differences, each reminding them in 
 his own way of the landscapes and the joys which 
 cannot be forgotten ; though the true friend and 
 lover of these songsters calls over their names as 
 a mother would the names of her children, in each 
 name seeing an image unlike any other, in each 
 name hearing a voice unlike any other, and seeing 
 and hearing in all the names together a choir 
 bringing to him all the pleasant summers of his by- 
 gone years, and bringing to him, too, a cheering 
 promise of the fairer and sweeter years, when the 
 last winter shall be forever over and gone, and 
 " all the worlds shall summer " in the smile of the 
 Universal Father. 
 
 The pleasure and profit of rambling on foot, of 
 journeying in a carriage, or of sailing in a yacht, 
 are augmented by a view of every form and aspect 
 of the region traversed or compassed. Animation 
 and vigor come into the mind from the landscapes 
 and the skies at every point of the progress. Hill, 
 wood, rock, tree, shrub, and flower on the earth, 
 and fleecy clouds, clear spaces of blue, and broad 
 stripes and scattered stains of gold and crimson in 
 the heavens, impart something which locomotion 
 solely, or journeying or voyaging as with bandages 
 over the eyes, would not bring. This something is 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 
 
 163 
 
 supplemented by the beauty and music of the birds ; 
 for they are everywhere around, — in the trees, in 
 the thickets, on wall, roof, rock, beach, wave, — 
 in the air with motionless wings making circles, or 
 with vigorous plying of wings darting from tree to 
 tree, or swiftly passing from point to point. One 
 is more agreeably affected in March by the glance 
 of the first bluebird's wing, or by his earliest sim- 
 ple notes, than he can employ words to tell. 
 Later, his heart is touched by the conversation of 
 the social, excited swallows on the eaves. The 
 robin's song comes to his ear as freighted with a 
 
 OVERLOOK. 
 
 message from a land of perpetual summer. The 
 blackbirds in the elm's lofty top, on a breezy day, 
 rising and sinking with the branches, and whistling 
 like the wind sweeping through the rigging of 
 ships, stir him to new effort, to brave and cheerful 
 
164 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 renewal of exertion to fulfil the ends of life. The 
 chickadees, never idle, always singing their brief, 
 happy song, teach him the lesson of confidence and 
 persistency. As he passes the brook's fringe of 
 alders, the redstart springs from the shade, and 
 alighting on a twig, unwittingly winning admi- 
 ration, illustrates the success of the overtaken 
 wayfarer's unexpected brilliant thought. The 
 song-sparrow, near the wayside cottage on the 
 top of the gate-post, or by the sea on the peak 
 of a boulder, with head uplifted, and breast 
 adorned with a single black spot, trembling with 
 joy, sprinkles the air with clearest and brightest 
 drops of melody. The titmouse, busy among the 
 leaves of the maple in the wood ; the wren, guard- 
 ing his little domicile in the pear-tree of the gar- 
 den ; and the ruby-throated humming-bird, darting 
 from flower to flower on the vines climbing the 
 cottage-wall, — are minute marvels of beauty and 
 activity, turning the thoughts to Him who made 
 them as ever mindful of his wee and slender 
 creatures, observing the least one's mishap or fall. 
 The goldfinches on the thistles as truly find pro- 
 vision from God's kind hand as the red-winged 
 blackbirds among the reeds and flags of the 
 meadow. The call of the quails in the mowing, 
 in the grain, and in the pasture-cover, is associated 
 with the leafy months of June and July, and with 
 the ripening grasses and perfected berries of 
 August ; with the perfume of red-clover blossoms, 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 165 
 
 yellow barberry tassels, brilliantly dyed honey- 
 suckles, and new-mown hay ; and with the flavor 
 of strawberries, blueberries, huckleberries, rasp- 
 berries, and high and low blackberries. " More 
 wet ! " here and there thrown forth with force from 
 their beaks, is often, during the midsummer heat, a 
 fitting prayer both for themselves and human kind. 
 In the period of berries, the wild pigeons visit 
 our Cape in flocks. They are less numerous than 
 in former years, but may be seen sometimes in con- 
 siderable numbers in several of their old haunts ; 
 particularly in the pines and the pasture south of 
 them, between Pigeon Cove and Lanesville, within 
 and around Brier Swamp, and in the wood between 
 Folly Point and Lanesville one way, and tire Wil- 
 lows and the Ipswich Bay shore the other. But a 
 few summers ago there was, one day, a gathering 
 of two thousand people in this last-named locality, 
 listening to a speech concerning the political affairs 
 of our nation. The speaker, General Butler, stood 
 on a slight elevation in the shade of a wild cherry- 
 tree. It seemed that the tree had been previously 
 visited by pigeons, for its top was thickly studded 
 with black cherries, and in the usual afternoon feed- 
 ing time of these birds a large flock of them 
 alighted in every part of the tree ; and, although 
 evidently surprised to find so great a company of 
 men and women on the ground beneath them, and 
 to hear the general's husky voice sending forth 
 sentences like rattling shot, they made no haste to 
 
166 PIGEON CO YE AND VICINITY. 
 
 fly away. Many minutes passed before they 
 returned to their roosts in the tall white-pines of 
 Brier Swamp. The picture of the quiet crowd 
 listening to the orator, the many-colored costumes, 
 the surrounding tall trees and the thick under- 
 brush, the shining waves of Ipswich Bay discerned 
 through a rift of the wood, and the wild pigeons, 
 some with reddish, and some with pale-blue breasts, 
 distributed throughout the cherry-tree's top, is a 
 novel and exceedingly pleasant one in the memory. 
 On the day following that of the gathering, from a 
 cover of oaks and pines near the cherry-tree, a young 
 sportsman shot fifteen of this flock of pigeons. 
 
 Most of those who learn that in the early times the 
 wild pigeons were numerous in our woods suppose 
 that the name of our Hill and Cove thus naturally 
 and easily enough came into use : that the former, 
 when covered with wood, was first called Pigeon 
 Hill ; and that then the latter, being at the foot of 
 this elevation, got the name of Pigeon Cove. But 
 there is a tradition which sets this supposition 
 aside ; namely, that in the long ago time, when the 
 Cove had no name, immense flocks of pigeons, 
 coming over the sea from New Hampshire and 
 Maine toward the Cape, were enveloped and over- 
 whelmed by a storm, and becoming exhausted 
 fell into the waves ; so that after the storm had 
 ceased, large numbers of the dead birds were 
 brought by the waves into the Cove, and thrown 
 upon the rocks and beach. Hence the little inclen- 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 167 
 
 tation became Pigeon Cove ; and then the height 
 ascending from it Pigeon Hill. 
 
 There is no season here without the companion- 
 ship of birds. The " many-wintered crow," the 
 blue-jay, the quail, the golden- winged woodpecker, 
 the chickadee, the snow-bunting, the snow-bird, 
 and the lesser red-poll, come into our orchards and 
 about our dwellings almost every day of the se- 
 verest winter. Also in the winter often appear in 
 the yellow pines of Andrews' Point, and of other 
 similar localities, the pine grosbeaks and the rose- 
 breasted cross-bills, vigorously tearing to pieces the 
 cones of the pines to get their food, and as happily 
 loquacious as the English sparrows on Boston 
 Common. Some of the robins stay on the Cape in 
 the winter, retiring in times of extreme rigor to 
 warm places in swamps and fens ; on days of bland 
 airs and melting snow, coming out on the bare spots 
 of ground near the village homes, seeming de- 
 lighted for the few spring-like hours on the sward 
 and tilth. The ruffed grouse in winter seeks the 
 shelter of the cedars or hemlocks, content with his 
 perch and his evergreen roof, since he is free to 
 go forth to fill his crop with the buds of the black- 
 birch whenever wanting them. Sometimes, after 
 the snow has been falling for hours, wishing for a 
 warmer place than the evergreen's top, he dives 
 from his lofty branch into a hillock of light snow, 
 making, in this single plunge, a hole two or three 
 feet deep, in which he is as comfortable as an 
 
168 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Esquimau wrapped in furs. He is seldom seen 
 till in May, when the forest leaves begin to unfold, 
 and " the shad-bush, white with flowers, to brighten 
 the glens." In that time of returning warmth and 
 expanding beauty, he attracts attention with proud 
 airs and bright display of russet and mottled plu- 
 mage. If the rambler is in doubt as to his where- 
 abouts, his vigorous drumming in a sunny nook 
 soon makes it known. This noise from his beat- 
 ing wings is 
 
 " A sound like distant thunder : slow the strokes 
 At first, then fast and faster, till at length 
 They pass into a murmur and are still." 
 
 Not only the woods, pastures, orchards, gardens, 
 lanes, and roadsides are haunts of birds, but also 
 the marshes, beaches, islands, rocks, coves, and 
 bays. The sand-peeps in flocks on the wing skim 
 the shallow pools of the beach, and, rising from the 
 beach for a distant flight, suddenly turn and glance 
 to the sun like the leaves of a poplar when struck 
 by a gust of wind. The plovers and curlews, utter- 
 ing plaintive calls, fly from creek to lagoon over 
 the marsh, and from the marsh to the beach. 
 They follow with rapid feet the retreating waves 
 down the slight descent of hard, smooth sand, and 
 then returning scarcely keep out of the ripple and 
 froth of the upward advancing brine. The gulls, 
 some sitting lightly on the undulations of the sea, 
 and others wheeling and soaring in the air, in calm 
 and storm are equally out of danger. They laugh 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 169 
 
 while the tempest blows. Their peace and safety 
 are the same, whether they sail with the wind, 
 or make way against it ; settle to the still water 
 within the wall of the harbor, or to the white- 
 capped waves of the troubled sea. Hundreds of 
 the smaller gulls, or sea-swallows, fly about the 
 islands and the lonely rocks off the Cape, filling 
 the air with their piercing screams. They gather 
 on the cliffs, which rise bare and gray out of the 
 ocean, like parti-colored doves on the roofs of 
 barns. On the coming of a boat toward their sea- 
 girt retreat, they rise like a cloud, making vehement 
 protestations against the intrusion. Though they 
 have lofty battlements and bartizans, their best 
 and most powerful resistance is their anxious and 
 mournful cry, their confession of weakness and 
 fear. 
 
 In the spring flying northward, and in the 
 autumn southward, the water-fowls pass our Cape 
 by thousands, — some by the way of Squam River, 
 the larger number around the whole distance of 
 the indented shore. Stopping to rest and feed 
 awhile in Ipswich Bay, large numbers of gray coots, 
 white- winged coots, sheldrakes, black- clucks, and 
 brant, near Ipswich Beach and Plum Island, gather 
 into one mass, covering a broad expanse of waves. 
 Yachters and fowlers sailing toward the raft of 
 birds, seeing their lively motions, and hearing 
 their quacking and whistling, like the wild noises 
 of a storm, grow eager and excited. As the yacht 
 8 
 
170 PIGEON COYE AND VICLtflTY. 
 
 approaches the birds, they begin to rise into the 
 air by scores and fifties and hundreds. The sports- 
 men, then, with double-barrelled guns, bring many 
 of them down, and with dip-nets secure them, 
 while sailing on to repeat over and over the same 
 diversion. 
 
 When a breeze freshens, or the north-west or 
 east wind sweeps the Bay, small and large flocks 
 one by one break off from the great mass, continu- 
 ing their long journey. In September and October, 
 passing Halibut Point, Andrews' Point, the Sal- 
 vages, Gap Head, and Straitsmouth Island, the 
 birds are shot by fowlers waiting for them in dories, 
 and behind cliffs and boulders. 
 
 One golden autumnal day, Dick, the Welshman, 
 on a cliff waiting for birds, had had no luck, and 
 so under the shelter of a rock fell asleep. And 
 sleeping he dreamed of his excellent position, and 
 yet of watching for birds hour by hour in vain ; 
 of seeing them either too high overhead, or too far 
 out from shore. At length there came a change. 
 He saw flock after flock just above the waves, com- 
 ing directly to pass his resting-place. This was too 
 much for deep repose. He grasped his gun, which 
 lay by his side, and springing upon his feet dis- 
 charged it ; but at random, and only to arouse him- 
 self from his dream, and to discover how near to the 
 edge of the cliff above the roaring sea he stood ; 
 and to behold the swift flight of a flock of white- 
 winged coots from immediately under his astonished 
 eyes. 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 171 
 
 Upon the verge of winter, southward, and in 
 early spring, northward, flocks of wild geese, 
 slowly beating their wings and making a great 
 din, pass over our Cape. In most instances they 
 are high in air. Sometimes, however, they are so 
 weary and borne down with weight of ice and 
 snow on their wings, as to seek shelter and rest in 
 Squam River or Cape Pond. Once a flock of wild 
 geese, thus tired and heavily burdened, having 
 dropped at night into this latter water, by morning 
 were held fast by the rapidly forming ice, and so 
 were easily captured by some sportsmen who had 
 witnessed their descent. 
 
 " The migration of birds," . . . one says with 
 becoming reverence and modesty, ... "I know not 
 how to give an account of it, it is so strange and 
 admirable." Who else of all the thousands of 
 thinking men could speak of this thing so hidden 
 in mystery more wisely ? William Cullen Bry- 
 ant's lines " To a Water-fowl" reveal how much 
 nearer the poet gets toward it than any one de- 
 pending solely on the guidance of what is called 
 positive science : — 
 
 "Whither, midst falling dew, 
 While glow the heavens with the last steps of day, 
 Ear through their rosy depths dost thou pursue 
 Thy solitary way 1 
 
 Vainly the fowler's eye 
 Might mark thy distant flight to do thee wrong, 
 As, darkly painted on the crimson sky, 
 
 Thy figure floats along. 
 
172 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Seek'st thou the plashy brink 
 Of weedy lake, or marge of river wide, 
 Or where the rocking bidows rise and sink 
 
 On the chafed ocean side ? 
 
 There is a Power whose care 
 Teaches thy way along that pathless coast, — 
 The desert and illimitable air, — 
 
 Lone wandering, but not lost. 
 
 All day thy wings have fanned, 
 At that far height, the cold, thin atmosphere, 
 Yet stoop not, weary, to the welcome land, 
 
 Though the dark night is near. 
 
 And soon that toil shall end ; 
 Soon shalt thou find a summer home, and rest, 
 And scream among thy fellows ; reeds shall bend, 
 
 Soon, o'er thy sheltered nest. 
 
 Thou'rt gone, the abyss of heaven 
 Hath swallowed up thy form ; yet on my heart 
 Deeply hath sunk the lesson thou hast given, 
 
 And shall not soon depart. 
 
 He who, from zone to zone, 
 Guides through the boundless sky thy certain flight, 
 In the long way that I must tread alone, 
 
 Will lead my steps aright." 
 
 This discursive talk of the birds of our Cape 
 should be followed by a list of birds, and a list of 
 birds' eggs, kindly furnished by Mr. G. P. Whit- 
 man, of Rockport. In intervals of relief from 
 business, this gentleman attains the highest and 
 happiest end of diversion. His collection is the 
 result of but two years' occasional searching, and 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 173 
 
 is numbered according to the list of the Smith- 
 sonian Institution : — 
 
 LIST OF BIRDS FOUND ON CAPE ANN AND SURROUND- 
 ING WATERS. 
 
 Duck Hawk. 
 
 Snowy Owl. 
 
 Golden-winged Woodpecker. 
 
 Nighthawk. 
 
 Yellow Warbler. 
 
 Redstart. 
 
 Scarlet Tanager. 
 
 Cedar-bird. 
 
 Common Crow. 
 
 Semi-palmated Plover. 
 
 Piping Plover. 
 
 Black-bellied Plover. 
 
 Turnstone. 
 
 Red-breasted Snipe. 
 
 Grayback. 
 
 Purple Sandpiper. 
 
 Least Sandpiper. 
 
 Semi-palmated Sandpiper. 
 
 Sanderling. 
 
 Willet. 
 
 Stone Snipe. 
 
 Spotted Sandpiper. 
 
 Long-billed Curlew. 
 
 Canada Goose. 
 
 Brant. 
 
 Mallard. 
 
 Black Duck. 
 
 Springtail. 
 
 Blue-winged Teal. 
 
 Golden-eye. 
 
 Butter-ball. 
 
 Harlequin Duck. 
 
 Old-wife. 
 
 Velvet Duck. 
 
 Surf Duck. 
 
 Eider Duck. 
 
 King Eider. 
 
 Sheldrake. 
 
 Red-breasted Merganser. 
 
 Loon, or Great Northern Diver. 
 
 Red-throated Diver. 
 
 Guillemot. 
 
 Foolish Guillemot. 
 
 Herring Gull. 
 
 Kittiwake Gull. 
 
 Arctic Tern, or Sea-swallow. 
 
 Razor-billed Auk. 
 
 Sea Dove. 
 
 Loggerheaded Shrike. 
 
 Lesser Red-poll. 
 
 COMMON BIRDS ON CAPE ANN NOT YET OBTAINED. 
 
 Pigeon Hawk. 
 Sparrow Hawk. 
 Cooper's Hawk. 
 Sharp-shinned Hawk. 
 Red-shouldered Hawk. 
 Broad-winged Hawk. 
 Rough-legged Hawk. 
 
 Black Hawk. 
 Marsh Hawk. 
 Golden Eagle. 
 Bald Eagle. 
 Fish Hawk. 
 Great Horned Owl. 
 Mottled Owl. 
 
174 
 
 PIGEON COYE AND VICINITY. 
 
 Saw-whet Owl. 
 
 Downy Woodpecker. 
 
 Red-headed Woodpecker. 
 
 Ruby-throated Humming-bird. 
 
 Chimney Swallow. 
 
 Whippoorwill. 
 
 Belted Kingfisher. 
 
 King Bird. 
 
 Wood Thrush. 
 
 Robin. 
 
 Bluebird. 
 
 Ruby-crowned Wren. 
 
 Maryland Yellow-throat. 
 
 Golden-winged Warbler. 
 
 Pine-creeping Warbler. 
 
 Yellow-throated Warbler. 
 
 Green Black-cap Flycatcher. 
 
 Barn Swallow. 
 
 Cliff Swallow. 
 
 White-bellied Swallow. 
 
 Bank Swallow. 
 
 Great Northern Shrike. 
 
 Warbling Flycatcher. 
 
 Cat-bird. 
 
 Brown Thrush. 
 
 Long billed Marsh Wren. 
 
 Winter Wren. 
 
 Red-bellied Nuthatch. 
 
 Black-capped Titmouse. 
 
 Shore Lark. 
 
 Purple Finch. 
 
 Black- throated Bunting. 
 
 Rose-breasted Grosbeak. 
 
 Bobolink. 
 
 Swamp Blackbird. 
 
 Orchard Oriole. 
 
 Crow Blackbird. 
 
 Blue Jay. 
 
 W T ild Pigeon. 
 
 Ruffed Grouse. 
 
 Great Blue Heron. 
 
 Bittern. 
 
 Blue Heron. 
 
 Night Heron. 
 
 Golden Plover. 
 
 Killdeer. 
 
 Oystercatcher. 
 
 Summer Duck. 
 
 Red-head. 
 
 Surf Duck. 
 
 Yellow -bird. 
 
 Pine Finch. 
 
 Red Cross-bill. 
 
 Snow Bunting 
 
 Grass Finch. 
 
 Seaside Finch. 
 
 Snow-bird. 
 
 Field Sparrow. 
 
 Chipping Sparrow. 
 
 Song Sparrow. 
 
 Indigo-bird. 
 
 Wilson's Phalarope. 
 
 Red Phalarope. 
 
 Woodcock. 
 
 English Snipe. 
 
 Red-backed Sandpiper. 
 
 Jack Snipe. 
 
 Yellow-legs. 
 
 Hudsonian Curlew. 
 
 Esquimau Curlew. 
 
 Common Rail. 
 
 White-fronted Goose. 
 
 Green-winged Teal. 
 
 Shoveller. 
 
 Baldpate. 
 
 Hooded Merganser. 
 
 Common Gannet. 
 
 Double-crested Cormorant. 
 
 Wilson's Stormy Petrel. 
 
 Leach's Petrel. 
 
 Sooty Shearwater. 
 
 Puffin, or Labrador Auk. 
 
ANIMALS AND BIRDS OF CAPE ANN. 175 
 
 Glaucous Gull. Laughing Gull. 
 
 Great Black-backed Gull. Pomarine Skua. 
 
 Arctic Skua. 
 
 LIST OF BIRDS' EGGS FOUND ON CAPE ANN AND NEIGH- 
 BORING ISLANDS. 
 
 Cooper's Hawk. Field Sparrow. 
 
 Yellow-billed Cuckoo. Indigo-bird. 
 
 Black-billed Cuckoo. Bobolink. 
 
 Golden-winged Woodpecker. Cow-bird. 
 
 Chimney Swallow. Orchard Oriole. 
 
 King-bird. Baltimore Oriole. 
 
 Pewee. Crow Blackbird. 
 
 Least Flycatcher. Common Crow. 
 
 Wilson's Thrush. Blue Jay. 
 
 Maryland Yellow-throat. Quail. 
 
 Golden-winged Warbler. Night Heron. 
 
 Redstart. Semi-palmated Plover. 
 
 Barn Swallow. Piping Plover. 
 
 Cedar-bird. Least Sandpiper. 
 
 Cat-bird. Least Tern. 
 
 Brown Thrash. Arctic Tern. 
 
 Purple Finch. Roseate Tern. 
 
 Iii remarks, Mr. Whitman says : " Dr. Samuels 
 speaks of the turnstone as seldom seen in number 
 more than two or three. But Mr. H. W. Woods 
 and myself have seen flocks of twenty-five and 
 thirty on Milk Island and elsewhere. They are 
 very common here in the spring and in the fall." 
 Referring to the list of eggs : " This is my list of 
 eggs found on Cape Ann. There are many birds, 
 beside, accustomed to breeding here. I have in 
 my collection of eggs, obtained both here and else- 
 where, one hundred and thirty-two kinds." 
 
176 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 MINERALS OF CAPE ANN. 
 
 OCEAN VIEW HOUSE. 
 
 Since the whole Cape is composed of granite 
 hills and ledges, streaked with trap, blotched with 
 porphyry and quartz, and overstrewn with boul- 
 ders, the mineralogists have here a rare field. 
 They pierce and rive the huge and grand forms, to 
 obtain the more precious minute ones within them. 
 They get the purest quartz crystals from the solid 
 heart of the quarry, and moon-stones from narrow 
 crevices downward thirty feet from the top of the 
 ledge. They have found on the Cape specimens 
 of more than thirty classes of minerals, three of 
 which have been discovered nowhere else. Incited 
 
MINERALS OF CAPE ANN. ITT 
 
 by the ever visible hints of the various substances 
 which are secreted in the ledges, blocks of granite, 
 and boulders and pebbles around them, they 
 advance from the first steps of their study and 
 search, until by means of correspondence and 
 exchange they bring together specimens of min- 
 erals from all parts of the earth. 
 
 There are two valuable private cabinets of min- 
 erals in our own town. One of these, containing 
 over two thousand specimens, belongs to Dr. 
 Edward Barden, son of the late Rev. Stillman Bar- 
 den ; the other, containing thirteen hundred speci- 
 mens, is the property of Mr. William J. Knowlton. 
 
 Mr. Barden, while faithful in the sphere of cleri- 
 cal duty, added to his fund of inward wealth, and 
 extended the range of his usefulness, by walking 
 forth frequently in close companionship with Na- 
 ture, finding sermons of deep meaning and brilliant 
 expression in her stones. 
 
 Young men looking for employment and pleasure 
 above the plane of idleness and frivolity, following 
 the lessons and example of this enthusiastic clergy- 
 man, rising every year in the ascending road of 
 science, soon ascertained such employment and 
 pleasure to have been always nearer to them than 
 they had supposed. 
 
 Mr. Knowlton has been to the pains of furnishing, 
 for the gratification of such as are interested in 
 mineralogy, the following 
 
 b* 
 
178 
 
 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 LIST OF MINERALS WHICH HAVE BEEN FOUND OX 
 CAPE ANN. 
 
 White Feldspar Crystals. 
 
 Green Feldspar Crystals (supe- 
 rior to any found in this coun- 
 try). 
 
 Albite Crystals. 
 
 Elaeolite. 
 
 Moon-stones. 
 
 Smoky Quartz Crystals (very 
 black, and closely resembling 
 the St. Cothard specimens). 
 
 Blue Quartz. 
 
 Topaz. 
 
 Epidote. 
 
 Green and Purple Chlorophane. 
 
 Zinc Blende. 
 
 Spathic Iron. 
 
 Granular Magnetic Iron. 
 
 Galena. 
 
 _ ^ .', > In boulders. 
 Staurotide. ) 
 
 Spinel Ruby. 
 
 Zircon. 
 
 Ripidolite. 
 
 Molybdenite. 
 
 Danalite. 
 
 Cryophyllite 
 
 Cyrtolite. 
 
 New to science, 
 and found only 
 in this locality/ 
 
 Fergusonite. 
 
 Polymignite. 
 
 Orangite. 
 
 Yttro-tantalite. 
 
 Ilmenite. 
 
 Columbite. 
 
 Lepidomclane. 
 
 Wohlerite. 
 
 These remind 
 us of the min- 
 erals of Nor- 
 way and Swe- 
 den. 
 
CHALYBEATE MINEEAL WATEE. 
 
 179 
 
 CHALYBEATE MINERAL WATER. 
 
 A spring of Chalybeate Water was discovered 
 near the termination of Andrews' Point in the sum- 
 mer of 1872. The following is the State Assayer's 
 testimony as to its composition and qualities : — 
 
 State Assayer's Office, 
 Boston, Sept. 5, 1872. 
 I have made a chemical analysis of the water from the Springs 
 at Ocean View, Pigeon Cove, Mass., and find that one imperial 
 gallon (ten pounds of it) yields one hundred and twenty-eight grains 
 of solid matters, of which the most important is Oxide of Iron, 
 which exists as a Carbonate, and Sulphate of Iron. 
 
 The Oxide of Iron in a gallon of water weighs twenty-four 
 grains. The other matters are Sulphate of Soda, Chlorides of 
 Sodium and Caicium. The water is a true Chalybeate Mineral 
 Water, having decided tonic properties. 
 
 C. T. Jackson, M.D., 
 State Assatjer. 
 
180 
 
 PIGEON COYE AND VICINITY. 
 
 SEA-ANIMALS, SEA-WEEDS, AND SEA-MOSSES. 
 
 HALIBUT POINT. 
 
 The wonders of the sea are beyond computation. 
 At whatever point approached, they more and 
 more unveil to the vision. Though the curious, 
 searching for them, never look farther over the 
 lowest tide-line than they can see, they walk to 
 and fro on the granite stairs slanting into the 
 ocean as on the border of a broad demesne 
 of forest, pasture, field, and garden, adorned 
 with all manner of vegetation, from minute and 
 delicate plants, rivalling the most frail and tender 
 flowers on the land, to the rankest and tallest 
 growths, swayed by the tides, as are the trees and 
 shrubs on the hillsides by the winds ; and stocked 
 with creatures innumerable, some of which roam 
 about in quest of food, selecting from time to time 
 new places of rest, others abiding throughout their 
 lifetime on the same spots, thousands of them 
 clinging to the sides of rocks, thousands dwelling 
 within shallow basins on the shore, thousands 
 inhabiting deep and shadowy dens a little removed 
 from the shore. 
 
SEA-ANIMALS, SEA- WEEDS, AND SEA-MOSSES. 181 
 
 A few seals occasionally show themselves near 
 the terminal points of the Cape, but oftener near 
 the mouth of Squam River. Their round heads 
 just appearing above the waves, and, on attract- 
 ing attention, suddenly sinking out of sight, are 
 almost the only signs of the presence of these inter- 
 esting animals. 
 
 The Crustacea upon and near our coast are 
 various and numerous. The lobsters, generally, 
 are two or three hundred yards from low-water 
 mark. At this distance from the shore the traps 
 for catching them are set. Some of them come so 
 near to the shore as to be occasionally caught by 
 persons fishing for cunners with hook and line. 
 Frequently very small lobsters find their way, or 
 are thrown by the waves, into the hollows of the 
 shelving shore. These cavities are filled with 
 water, and cushioned and lined with mosses. The 
 diminutive lobsters, together with crabs, blue- 
 shelled clams, innumerable mussels and barnacles, 
 in these superbly furnished and painted places 
 of abode, make a happy or an amusing family. 
 Often the rambler is arrested by the beautiful 
 exhibition of a natural aquarium. On him is not 
 put the care of keejring it in good condition, or of 
 bringing it daily new supplies of water : the un- 
 failing and unvarying tides fulfil the need. The 
 hollow in the sloping granite, more ancient than 
 any habitation of man, with appointments and 
 decorations which the hand of man but poorly 
 
182 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 imitates, is the palace of these mailed and blazoned 
 little creatures. And the rambler peers into it, — 
 into every apartment of it, into every corner of it, 
 — while with hand or cane he parts the gold and 
 amber curtains, or lifts the green and purple screens, 
 to favor his curiosity to the utmost : all this he 
 does without encountering opposition, or the frown 
 and " Begone ! " of offended exclusiveness. " Don't 
 destroy us, don't molest us with rude hands," say 
 the innocent inmates of the many-roomed and 
 gorgeously adorned abode ; " but look upon and 
 learn of us to your heart's satisfaction and con- 
 tent. Occupy all the time you desire in attaining 
 a knowledge of our forms and our modes of life, 
 our employments and pleasures, our customs and 
 manners." 
 
 Many persons on the Cape have for years added 
 largely to the pleasure and profit of life in the 
 common employments, by studying and gathering 
 specimens of the plants and mosses of the sea. 
 Most of these persons are ladies. They have 
 visited repeatedly every point, cove, and beach of 
 the Cape, and every island and sea-girt rock near 
 its shore, to obtain for their books the surprising 
 variety of mosses which in every storm the waves 
 cast upon rock and sand within their reach. This 
 brief allusion to their diversion and study is scarcely 
 a hint of the greatness of their work. Looking 
 over, from the beginning to the end of their books, 
 their splendid collections, the dullest person would 
 
SEA-ANIMALS, SEA-WEEDS, AND SEA-MOSSES. 183 
 
 catch something of the inspiration rendered in 
 these lines "On a Book of Sea-mosses," by James 
 T. Fields : — 
 
 " These many-colored, variegated forms 
 Sail to our rougher shores, and rise and fall 
 To the deep music of the Atlantic wave. 
 Such spoils we capture where the rainbows drop, 
 Melting in Ocean. Here are broideries strange, 
 Wrought by the sea nymphs from their golden hair, 
 And wove by moonlight. Gently turn the leaf. 
 From narrow cells, scooped in the rocks, we take 
 These fairy textures lightly moored at morn. 
 Down sunny slopes outstretching to the deep, 
 We roam at noon, and gather shapes like these. 
 Note now the painted webs from verdurous isles, 
 Festooned and spangled in sea-caves, and say 
 What hues of land can rival tints like those 
 Torn from the scarfs and gonfalons of kings 
 Who dwell beneath the waters ? " 
 
 Mrs. Maria H. Bray, of West Gloucester, cheer- 
 fully responding to an invitation to do so, fur- 
 nishes the following paragraphs concerning the 
 sea-animals and the sea-mosses which have at- 
 tracted her attention from time to time. 
 
 " The shores of Pigeon Cove, Rockport, and 
 Thatcher's Island, offer to the seaside naturalist 
 many curious and interesting forms of plant and 
 animal life, — among which are to be found a large 
 variety of algae, a vast order of plants known as 
 flowerless ; 4 but only so,' says Prof. J. L. Russell, 
 4 because the organs, which are large and promi- 
 nent in most other plants, are in these rudimentary 
 
184 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 and minute, requiring the most patient research 
 with the microscope to detect them.' 
 
 " Yet notwithstanding the difficulty of finding 
 the floral parts of these so-called flowerless plants, 
 there are portions of the sea-weeds which have, at 
 certain seasons of the year, little bodies containing 
 definitely formed granules which answer for seed ; 
 and on these characters, varying in each genus, the 
 study and the arrangement of the several species 
 to a great degree depend. 
 
 " The sea-weeds have no roots. Many float upon 
 the surface of the ocean ; and others, firmly affixed 
 to the bottom, or to stones and shells, are only 
 anchored for security ; their nourishment being 
 derived from the atmosphere and from the water 
 in which they are periodically or continually im- 
 mersed. 
 
 " Once these plants, the number of kinds it would 
 be impossible to definitely state, were considered 
 of no value ; but, in later days, intelligent inquiry 
 and patient scientific research have unfolded their 
 great value. They have both medicinal and fer- 
 tilizing properties. 
 
 " Growing in great luxuriance in all the tide-pools, 
 and upon all the rocks that are submerged by 
 every incoming tide, is the Cliondrus erispus;ov the 
 Carrageen moss. Its tough, forked fronds are of a 
 dark brown, some of them a lovely crimson ; others, 
 especially under water, iridescent. It is sometimes 
 called Irish, and sometimes Iceland, Moss. It is 
 
SEA-ANIMALS, SEA-WEEDS, AND SEA-MOSSES. 185 
 
 highly esteemed for its edible and nutritious prop- 
 erties. The name Carrageen arises from the fact 
 that these properties were first demonstrated in 
 Carrageen, Ireland. During the months of July 
 and August a large amount of this moss is thrown 
 upon the shore, where in rain and sun it becomes 
 bleached and fit for use. 
 
 " In the tide-pools — many of them, particularly 
 about Thatcher's Island, curious natural aquariums 
 — the botanist can study and admire a great many 
 species of algae. After one of the north-east 
 storms, so frequent on this coast during the spring 
 and autumn, he will be well repaid for clambering 
 over rocks and wacling through pools along the 
 shore searching for them. In this way choice col- 
 lections of sea-mosses have been secured. Some- 
 times one finds among our own northern mosses 
 a southern habitat, brought hither by winds and 
 waves. 
 
 " A common alga, and one of the most beautiful, 
 is the Ptilota serrata. It is found in every season. 
 It is usually of a deep reel. Its strong, tough 
 fronds make it a desirable variety to arrange in 
 baskets or in shells. It is easily raised from the 
 paper on which it has been floated out. 
 
 " Another attractive alga, much sought after for 
 the herbarium, the Callithamnion Amcricanum, is 
 found here. 
 
 " The Desmarestia aculeata is abundant at Lob- 
 lolly Cove. The name is from Desmarest, the 
 
186 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 French botanist. It is a pretty alga. In the young 
 state its branches are covered with very delicate 
 green filaments. Older branches lose these, and 
 become spiny and hard. The finest specimens are 
 obtained during the late winter months and in the 
 early spring. 
 
 " The Desmarestia beridis is also found in the 
 same locality. This has all the branches ar- 
 ranged in pairs, and lacks the fine, soft filaments 
 of the Desmarestia aculeata. 
 
 " Beautiful specimens of Ptilota elegans are ob- 
 tained at Thatcher's Island. It grows upon some 
 of the large rocks. It is generally concealed from 
 view by a heavy growth of Fuci. The deep chasm 
 near the North Tower is one of the best places for 
 collectors searching for this alga particularly. 
 
 " Another curious and interesting specimen, al- 
 ways found after a storm among the huge Lami- 
 7iaria, is the Sea Colonder (Agarum Turner i). Its 
 fronds are thin and tender, and pierced with 
 numerous holes. ' It grows when undisturbed,' 
 says Prof. J. L. Russell, 4 at the depth of ten 
 fathoms of water. To find its seeds, one must 
 select the old and battered specimens cast up in 
 early winter, in the thickened portions of which 
 they form dark-colored patches.' 
 
 " In the Delesseria order, named for Benjamin 
 Delessert, the French naturalist, a favorite variety 
 is the D. sinuosa. Its fronds are often varied in 
 color. Perfect specimens of this alga are found in 
 
SEA-ANIMALS, SEA-WEEDS, AND SEA-MOSSES. 187 
 
 almost any of the tide-pools. It is found also in 
 spring and autumn on the beaches. ' The fruit,' 
 says Prof. Eaton, ' is not very common. Like 
 all other red algae, the fruit is of two kinds and 
 always on separate plants.' 
 
 " The Cladophora areta and the Ulva latissima 
 are two fine varieties. The latter is a bright 
 green, growing plentifully on the rocks of Straits- 
 mouth and Thatcher's Islands. Lightfoot says that 
 in the Scottish Highlands it is bound about the 
 temples in fevers, and is thought to induce sleep ; 
 and in the Western Isles it is stewed with pepper, 
 vinegar, and onions as a dish for dinner. 
 
 " The large family of Polysiphonia, of many forms 
 and sizes, is well represented along the coast. 
 The Greek name signifies ' many tubes.' Several 
 varieties of this family, and also the Rhodomela 
 subfusca, Euthora cristata, Ceramium rubrum, 
 Rhodymenia palmata, together with many other 
 named and unnamed algae, have their habitat in 
 some of the natural aquariums and tide-pools, or 
 after a storm they drift to the shore from their 
 homes beneath the billows to reward the naturalist 
 for his labors. 
 
 " Several forms of zoophytes are found at Thatch- 
 er's Island, and in some localities near Rockport 
 and Pigeon Cove. The name implies animal and 
 plant in one. Some of the varieties partake so 
 largely of the plant life in structure and growth 
 that they are often classed with the algae. 
 
188 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 " The polyps known as the sea-anemones are of 
 the most beautiful of the zoophyte family. Fine 
 specimens are found on the water-side of or under 
 the large boulders over which the tide daily rises 
 near the Western Head of Thatcher's Island. They 
 are also found in some of the crevices of Loblolly 
 Cove. They are of various colors : some are pale- 
 yellow, and others dark-brown, orange, and pure 
 white. 
 
 " Prof. Verrill, in the ' Sea-Side ' number of ' The 
 American Naturalist ' for 1868, writes thus of the 
 sea-anemone : ' It makes a very pleasing pet in 
 confinement, and, if allowed plenty of room and 
 fresh sea-water, will expand almost constantly. It 
 feeds readily upon the flesh of all sorts of shell- 
 fish, and will not refuse bits of raw beef. And, if 
 necessity compels, it will live for months or even a 
 year without food ; but, curiously enough, it will 
 continually grow smaller and smaller, so that a 
 specimen at first five or six inches high, and two in 
 diameter, may thus be reduced to the height of an 
 inch and the diameter of less than half an inch, the 
 number of tentacles and chambers being proportion- 
 ately reduced. In the confinement of an aquarium, 
 or even in a jar or bowl of sea-water, one of these 
 marvels will soon make itself at home, and, fixing 
 itself on one side of the vessel by its base, will 
 expand its feathery plume of tentacles day after 
 day in search of tiny prey ; and woe to the unlucky 
 creature, be it animalcule, shell-fish, shrimp, or fish, 
 
SEA-ANIMALS, SEA-WEEDS, AND SEA-MOSSES. 189 
 
 that comes in contact with its crown of gorgon 
 tentacles armed with myriads of poison-darts, 
 deadly to all creatures destined to be its prey. 
 When fully expanded, this species has a very 
 graceful form, which cannot fail to please any one 
 who has a taste for the symmetry and beauty of 
 natural objects.' 
 
 " Jelly-fishes, star-fishes, sea-urchins, and snails 
 are on the shores without number. The last 
 named (Littorina pallata) are alwaj^s found on 
 the wet rocks and moist sea-weed, about the size 
 of large peas, of color dark-brown, and sometimes 
 yellow. The cockle (Purpura capilus) is much 
 larger than the snail. Its shell is thick and strong. 
 The colors are white, yellow, and brown ; and some 
 of the shells are beautiful, banded with all these 
 hues. The cockle is said to be the species from 
 which the celebrated Tyrian purple was obtained. 
 In using it for bait when fishing for dinners, the 
 fingers become stained with purple. 
 
 " Several of the Mytilidce, or Mussel family, have 
 their home among the sea-rocks. The large variety, 
 called the horse-mussel, is always an object of 
 interest to the naturalist. 
 
 " Razor-clams, lobsters, several species of crabs, 
 are natives of our shores. The most remarkable 
 member of the crab family is the hermit or soldier 
 crab. It is called the soldier-crab because of its 
 pugnacious and belligerent characteristics. Prof. 
 E. S. Morse gives the following description of 
 this animal: — 
 
190 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 ' The hermit-crab, like other members of the 
 class Crustacea, increases in size through a process 
 called "moulting." The hardened crust outside 
 does not grow : it is only a hardened skin, as it 
 were. Now as the body within increases in size, 
 the outside shell must be thrown off. This throw- 
 ing off of the outside crust is called "moulting," 
 and takes place at certain times. 
 
 4 Our hermit-crab has still another stage to go 
 through after moulting ; for, when this process has 
 taken place, it finds its coiled shell too small for it, 
 and must go back on that tiresome search called 
 " house-hunting." Back and forth it travels on the 
 beach. Here it meets one altogether too large ; 
 and an amusing sight it is to see it drag its soft 
 and helpless tail from the shell to try another to 
 see if it fits. Sometimes it meets with a shell that 
 is apparently just the thing, but unluckily it is 
 already occupied by a brother hermit ; and so, 
 without any apologies, it proceeds by force to eject 
 its tenant. A fight ensues, and oftentimes ends in 
 the ejectment and mutilation of the occupant.' 
 
 " In this brief sketch of the marine forms of plant 
 and animal life, I have omitted to mention many 
 other interesting species, which the naturalist will 
 do well to look for, and so secure a large variety 
 of specimens, both for the cabinet and the aqua- 
 rium." 
 
THE CONCLUSION - . 191 
 
 THE CONCLUSION. 
 
 Thus the regions of land and sea around Pigeon 
 Cove have been partly surveyed. Readers at a 
 distance, unused to the peculiar aspects and changes 
 of these regions, need not think they have been 
 described in the strain of exaggeration. Those 
 who have lived longest on our promontory bear 
 within their minds the most numerous and the deep- 
 est impressions of the marvels connected with it. 
 The far-away-inland dwellers, among the moun- 
 tains and on the prairies, would find here the most 
 glowing and enthusiastic descriptions more than 
 confirmed. " It is salt," said the Indian preacher 
 who had come from the north side of Lake Erie to 
 see his brethren in Christian faith near the Atlan- 
 tic, and to see the Atlantic too. He had not 
 doubted what he had heard and read of the salt- 
 ness of the sea, but he wanted the certainty of a 
 taste of it. Standing on the rocks and looking 
 into the sea, he expressed surprise and admiration, 
 the water was so clear. Scooping a little of it 
 with his hollowed hand, and tasting it, " It is salt," 
 he said ; and his countenance brightened. As to 
 this one thing he had not been deceived. Nor had 
 he been deceived as to many, many wonders of the 
 ocean. For every curious and marvellous tale ; for 
 every Indian tradition, legend, and myth which he 
 had to tell, he soon learned that he could get in 
 
192 PIGEON COVE AND VICINITY. 
 
 return many a pleasing surprise, many a mysterious, 
 impressive lesson. At Overlook, on an evening in 
 autumn, to a group of listeners seated before a 
 glowing grate, he sang some of the hymns of the 
 Delawares, playing on the piano his own accom- 
 paniments. He also repeated a series of myths. 
 These were alive with the spirit of poetry, and 
 brilliant with the colors of the imagination. So 
 well did he relate his Pagan fictions, that to those 
 who heard them the high-wrought recitals of Long- 
 fellow's Indian epic will no longer seem overdone. 
 Afterwards, at the seaside, it was his turn to be 
 entertained. Here, indeed, he was .drawn by the 
 new flavor and odor of brine, the splendor of 
 countless waves, and the ceaseless rote of the 
 beating surf, into a boundless realm of wonder and 
 mystery. 
 
 The Indian visitor's word often comes to mind. 
 The sea is salt. Moreover, it never loses its savor. 
 It is the same year after year, — a conservator of 
 the world's life and vigor; and, through innum- 
 erable forms and mutations, a minister of blessing 
 to the minds and hearts of men. 
 
 " The world is too much with us ; late and soon, 
 Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers : 
 Little we see in Nature that is ours ; 
 We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon ! 
 This Sea that bares her bosom to the moon ; 
 The winds that will be howling at all hours, 
 And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers : 
 For this, for every thing, we are out of tune ; 
 
THE CONCLUSION. 193 
 
 It moves us not. Great God ! I'd rather be 
 A Pagan suckled in a creed outworn ; 
 So might I, standing on this pleasant lea, 
 Have glimpses that would make me less forlorn ; 
 Have sight of Proteus rising from the sea, 
 Or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn." 
 
 Jrnm* ... 
 
 Cambridge: Press of John Wilson and Son.