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Title: Cuttyhunk
Author: Arthur Cleveland Hall
Release date: October 15, 2026 [eBook #79791]
Language: English
Original publication: Boston: Warren F. Kellog, 1897
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/79791
Credits: Steve Mattern and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CUTTYHUNK ***
[Illustration:]
CUTTYHUNK
_By Arthur Cleveland Hall_
New England Magazine
Vol. XVII. No. 1.
September, 1897
Reprint from copy
found in
Attic of The Old Church House
now owned by Wyatt Garfield
Reprinted to be sold
for the benefit of
The Cuttyhunk Library
Printed by
BRADBURY-WARING, INC.
New Bedford, Mass.
[Illustration]
[Illustration: THE GOSNOLD SHAFT.]
[Illustration: GOSNOLD’S ISLAND.]
[Illustration]
CUTTYHUNK.
_By Arthur Cleveland Hall_
Twenty miles south of New Bedford, where Buzzards Bay opens into the
broad Atlantic, lies Cuttyhunk. The little island is almost unknown
now, but it played an important part in history nearly three hundred
years ago. Here was located the first settlement by Europeans on New
England shores, if we except the coming of the Northmen to Vineland.
The ruins of the house the settlers built could still be seen early in
the present century, and the information obtained from Cuttyhunk in
1602 was most useful in inducing the English emigration to New England
which followed. While “Good Queen Bess” was yet alive, and but fourteen
years after the Spanish Armada dashed itself to pieces on the British
coast, Captain Bartholomew Gosnold “did set sail from Falmouth, on
the five and twentieth of March, 1602, being Friday, in a small bark
of Dartmouth called _The Concord_, holding a course for the north part
of Virginia.” There accompanied him “32 persons, whereof eight (were)
mariners and sailors, twelve proposing upon the discovery to return
with the ship for England, the rest to remain there for population.”
Among these bold voyagers, two, “Gabriel Archer, gentleman and
journalist,” and M. John Brereton, wrote accounts of the expedition. In
the following pages these old manuscripts, of necessity much condensed,
are followed as closely as possible.
[Illustration: THE SOUTH SIDE OF CUTTYHUNK]
The names of the ship’s company, so far as they are known to us, were
Bartholomew Gosnold, commander; Bartholomew Gilbert, second officer;
Robert Saltern, who was afterwards a clergyman; Gabriel Archer,
gentleman and journalist; John Angel, William Streete, John Brereton,
Robert Meriton and ---- Tucker.
[Illustration:]
“The wind favored us not at first, but enforced us so far to the
southward, as we fell in with St. Mary, one of the islands of the
Azores; but holding our course directly from thence we made our journey
shorter (than hitherto accustomed) by the better part of a thousand
leagues. Yet were we longer in our passage than we expected, for that
our bark being weak, also our sailors few and they none of the best, we
bear (except in fair weather) but low sail. Besides, our going upon an
unknown coast made us not over-bold to stand in with the shore but in
open weather.
“On Friday, the 14th of May, early in the morning, we made the land,
being full of fair trees, the land somewhat low, certain hommocks or
hills lying into the land, the shore full of white sand, but very
stony or rocky. And standing fair along by the shore, about twelve
of the clock the same day, we came to an anchor, where eight Indians
in a Basque shallop with mast and sail, an iron grapple and a kettle
of copper, came boldly aboard of us; one of them appareled with a
waistcoat and breeches of black serge, made after our sea fashion,
hose and shoes on his feet. All the rest were naked, saving near their
waists sealskins tied fast like Irish dimmie trowsers.
“These people are of tall stature, broad and grim visage, of a black
swart complexion, their eyebrows painted white; their weapons bows and
arrows. It seemed by some words and signs they made that some Basques
of St. John de Luz have fished or traded in this place, being in the
latitude of 43 degrees.
“Coasting along to the southwest, we came to anchor near a great
cape, where in five or six hours we had pestered our ship so with
codfish that we threw numbers of them overboard again; and surely I
am persuaded that there is upon this coast better fishing than in
Newfoundland, wherefore we named the place ‘Cape Cod.’
“Sailing round about this headland almost all the points of the
compass, we were come at length amongst many fair islands, all lying
within a league or two one of another, and the outermost not above 5
or 7 leagues form the main. Coming to an anchor under one of these,
Captain Gosnold and some others of us went ashore, and going about
it, we found it to be four English miles in compass, the place most
pleasant, but without house or inhabitant. The chiefest trees of this
island are beeches and cedars, the outward parts all overgrown with
low, bushy trees three or four feet in height, which bear some kind of
fruit, as appeared by their blossoms; strawberries, red and white, as
sweet and much bigger than ours in England; raspberries, gooseberries,
whortleberries and such an incredible store of vines, as well in the
woody parts of the island, where they run upon every tree, as on the
outward parts, that we could not go for treading upon them; also many
springs of excellent, sweet water, and a great standing lake of fresh
water an English mile in compass, which is maintained with the springs
running exceeding pleasantly through the woody grounds, which are very
rocky. This island we named ‘Martha’s Vineyard’ [now No-man’s-Land, a
desolate island just west of the present Martha’s Vineyard]. Here also
we saw great store of deer, diverse fowls in great plenty, also great
store of pease, which grow in certain plots all the island over; and on
the north side we found many huge bones and ribs of whales.
“The four and twentieth of May we set sail and doubled the cape of
another island next unto this, which we called Dover Cliff [now called
Gay Head, at the west end of Martha’s Vineyard], and then came into a
fair sound, where we rode all night. The next morning we sent off one
boat to discover another cape that lay northwest of this, between us
and the main, from which were a ledge of rocks a mile into the sea, but
all above water and without danger [now known as the “Sow and Pigs”
reef]. We went about them and came to anchor in 8 fathoms, a quarter
of a mile from the shore, in one of the stateliest sounds that ever
I was in [Buzzards Bay]. This called we Gosnold’s Hope, the north
bank whereof is the main, which stretcheth east and west. This island
Captain Gosnold called Elizabeth’s Isle [now Cuttyhunk], where we
determined our abode.
“It containeth many pieces or necks of land, which differ nothing from
several islands, saving that certain banks of small breadth do like
bridges join them to this island. In mid-May we did sow (for a trial)
in sundry places wheat, barley, oats and pease, which in 14 days were
sprung up 9 inches and more. The soil is fat and lusty, and the sowing
or setting is no greater labor than if you should set or sow in one
of our best prepared gardens in England. This island is full of high
timbered oaks, their leaves thrice so broad as ours; cedars straight
and tall, beech, elm, holly, walnut trees in abundance, hazle-nut
trees, cherry trees, sassafras trees, great plenty all over the island,
a tree of high price and profit; also divers other fruit trees, some of
them with strange barks of an orange color, in feeling soft and smooth
like velvet. In the thickest part of these woods you may see a furlong
or more round about.
[Illustration: THE VILLAGE]
“On the northwest side of this island is a stage or pond of fresh
water, in circuit two miles, on the one side not distance from the sea
30 yards, in the centre whereof is a rocky islet containing near an
acre of ground full of wood, on which we began our fort and place of
abode disposing itself so fit for the same. This lake is full of small
tortoises, and exceedingly frequented with all sorts of fowl, much
bigger than ours in England. Also in every island and almost in every
part of every island are great store of ground-nuts, 40 together on a
string, some of them as big as hen’s eggs; they grow not two inches
underground, the which nuts we found to be as good as potatoes. Also
divers sorts of shellfish, as scollops, muscles, cockles, lobsters,
crabs, oysters and wilks, exceeding good and very great.
“But not to cloy you with particular rehearsals of such things as God
and Nature hath bestowed on these places, in comparison whereof the
most fertile part of England is but barren,--we went in our light
horseman from this island to the main, right against this island
some two leagues off, where coming ashore, we stood a while like men
ravished at the beauty and delicacy of this sweet soil; for besides
divers clear lakes of fresh water, meadows very large and full of green
grass, even the most woody places do grow so distinct from one another
upon green grassy ground as if Nature would show herself above her
power, artificial. Immediately there presented unto us Indians, men,
women and children, who, with all courteous kindness, entertained us,
giving Captain Gosnold certain skins of wild beasts, which may be rich
furs, tobacco, turtles, hemp, artificial strings colored, chains and
such like things as at the instant they had about them.
“These are a fair conditioned people, who being emboldened by our
courteous visage and some trifles which we gave them, followed us to
a neck of land which we imagined had been severed from the main; but
finding it otherwise, we perceived a broad harbor or river’s mouth
which ran up into the main, and because the day was far spent we
were forced to return to the island from whence we came, leaving the
discovery of this harbor [probably New Bedford harbor] for a time of
better leisure.
[Illustration: THE CLUB-HOUSE.]
“The next day, being the first of June, we employed ourselves in
getting sassafras and the building of our fort on the little island
in the lake before mentioned. On the following day we wrought hard to
make ready our house for the provisions to be had ashore to sustain
us till our ship’s return, in building whereof we spent three weeks,
covering the house with sedge, which grew about this lake in great
abundance. Now, on the fifth of June, as we continued our labor, there
came unto us ashore from the main 50 savages, stout and lusty men, with
their bows and arrows; among them there seemed to be one of authority,
because the rest made an inclining respect unto him. The ship was, at
their coming, a league off, and Captain Gosnold aboard, and so likewise
Captain Gilbert, who almost never went ashore, the company with me
(Gabriel Archer) only 8 persons. These Indians in hasty manner came
towards us, so as we thought fit to make a stand at an angle between
the sea and the fresh water, being loath they should discover our
fortification. I moved myself towards him 7 or 8 steps and clapped
my hands, first on the sides of my head, then on my breast, and after
presented my musket with a threatening countenance, thereby to signify
unto them either a choice of peace or war; whereupon he using me with
mine own signs of peace, I stepped forth and embraced him; his company
then all sat down in a manner like greyhounds, upon their heels, with
whom my company fell a bartering. By this time Captain Gosnold was come
with 12 men more from aboard, and to show the savage seignior that he
was our captain, we received him in a guard, which he passing through
saluted the seignior with ceremonies of our salutations, whereat he
nothing moved or altered himself. Our captain gave him a straw hat and
a pair of knives; the hat a while he wore, but the knives he beheld
with great marveling, being very bright and sharp; thus our courtesy
made them very much in love with us.
[Illustration: THE CLUB-HOUSE GARDEN.]
“On the seventh the seignior came again with all his troop as before,
and continued with us the most part of the day eating and drinking with
us. The rest of the day we spent in trading with them for furs, which
are beavers, luzernes, martins, otters, wildcat skins, very large and
deep fur; black foxes, coney skins of the color of our hares, deer
skins, very large; seal skins and other beasts’ skins to us unknown.
They have also great store of copper, some very red and some of a
paler color; none of them but have chains, earrings or collars of this
metal. They head some of their arrows herewith much like our broad
arrow-heads, very workmanly made. Their chains are many hollow pieces
cemented together, each piece of the bigness of one of our reeds, a
finger in length, 10 or 12 of them together on a string, which they
wear about their necks. Their collars they wear about their bodies
like bandeliers a handful broad, all hollow pieces like the other, but
somewhat shorter, 400 pieces in a collar, very fine and evenly set
together. Besides these they have large drinking-cups made like sculls,
and other thin plates of copper made much like our boar-spear blades.
The necks of their pipes are made of clay hard dried; the other part is
a piece of hollow copper, very firmly closed and cemented together. All
of which they so little esteem, as they offered their fairest collars
or chains for a knife or such like trifle; but we seemed little to
regard it. Yet I was desirous to understand where they had such store
of this metal, and made signs to one of them with whom I was very
familiar, who, taking a piece of copper in his hand, made a hole with
his finger in the ground and withal pointed to the main from whence
they came. These Indians call gold _wessador_, which argueth there is
thereof in the country.
[Illustration: THE POST-OFFICE.]
“They strike fire in this manner: Every one carrieth about him in
a purse of tewed leather a mineral stone (which I take to be their
copper), and with a flat emery stone, (wherewith glazers cut glass and
cutlers glaze blades) tied fast to the end of a little stick, gently
he striketh upon the mineral stone, and within a stroke or two a spark
falleth upon a piece of touch-wood (much like our sponge in England),
and with the least spark he maketh a fire presently. We had also of
their flax, wherewith they make many strings and cords, but it is not
so bright of color as ours in England. I am persuaded they have great
store upon the main, as also mines and many other rich commodities
which we, wanting both time and means, could not possibly discover.
“These people, as they are exceeding courteous, gentle of disposition
and well conditioned, excelling all others that we have seen, so for
shape of body and lovely favor I think they excel all the people of
America; of stature much higher than we; of complexion or color much
like a dark olive; their eyebrows and hair black, which they wear
long, tied up behind in knots, whereon they prick feathers of fowls
in fashion of a coronet; some of them are black, thin bearded; they
make beards of the hair of beasts, and one of them offered a beard
of their making to one of our sailors for his that grew on his face,
which, because it was of a red color, they judged to be none of his
own. They are quick-eyed and steadfast in their looks, fearless of
other’s harms, as intending none themselves; some of the meaner sort
given to filching, which the very name of savages (not weighing their
ignorance of good or evil) may easily excuse. Their garments are of
deer skins, and some of them wear furs round and close about their
necks. They pronounce our language with great facility; for one of them
one day sitting by me, upon occasion I spoke, smiling to him, these
words: ‘How, now, sirrah, are you so saucy with my tobacco?’ which
words (without any further repetition) he suddenly spake so plain and
distinctly as if he had been a long scholar in the language.
[Illustration: A FISHERMAN’S HOME.]
“Many other such trials we had, which are here needless to repeat.
Their women (such as we saw, which were but three in all,) were but low
of stature, their eyebrows, hair, apparel and manner of wearing like to
the men, fat and very well favored, and much delighted in our company;
the men are very dutiful towards them.
“And truly, the wholesomeness and temperature of this climate doth
not only argue this people to be answerable to this description, but
also of a perfect constitution of body, active, strong, healthful and
very witty, as the sundry toys of theirs cunningly wrought may easily
witness. For the agreeing of this climate with us we found our health
and strength all the while we remained there so to renew and increase
as notwithstanding our diet and lodging were none of the best, yet
not one of our company (God be thanked) felt the least grudging or
inclination to any disease or sickness, but were much fattter and in
better health than when we went out of England.
“But after our bark had taken in much sassafras, cedar, furs, skins
and other commodities as were thought convenient, some of our company
that had promised Captain Gosnold to stay, having nothing but a saving
(_i. e._, money-making,) voyage in their minds, made our company of
inhabitants (which was small enough before) much smaller, so as Captain
Gosnold, seeing his whole strength to consist but of twelve men, and
they but meanly provided (with victuals), determined to return for
England, leaving this island (which he called Elizabeth’s Island) with
as many true sorrowful eyes as were before desirous to see it. So the
18th of June, being Friday, we weighed, and with indifferent fair wind
and weather, came to anchor the 23d day of July, being also Friday (in
all bare five weeks) before Exmouth.”
[Illustration: CHURCH AND SCHOOL.]
In an appendix to the account of John Brereton, which he addressed to
Sir Walter Raleigh, is “A brief note of such commodities as we saw in
the country notwithstanding our small time of stay.” These are classed
under trees, fowls, beasts, fruits, plants and herbs, fishes, colors,
metals and stones. It is rather amusing to find under fish “whales,
tortoises, seals, lobsters, crabs, muscles, wilks, cockles, scollops,
oysters” and, last of all, “snakes four feet in length and six inches
about, which the Indians eat for dainty meat, the skins whereof they
use for girdles.”
[Illustration: THE LIFE-SAVING STATION.]
Cuttyhunk to-day is greatly changed from the fair, wooded island
discovered in 1602. The stately trees have passed away. In 1858 not
one was growing there; not even a decaying stump could be seen above
ground. But now there are a few silver-leaf poplars near the houses
on the east of the island; and two or three fruit trees, solitary
survivors of many planted, still struggle through the cold blasts
of winter. Long, low sand bars, deeply strewn with sea-worn stones,
connect the different parts of the island as of old, and off to the
west the reef of “Sow and Pigs” spouts like a geyser in a storm. Rocky
hillocks, interspersed with steep little valleys, where six or seven
hundred sheep find pasture, decline gradually to a fresh water pond
on the northwest, where Gosnold’s Islet rises green above the blue
water. The identity of the places visited by the bold voyagers of 1602
can scarcely be doubted, so minute and exact was their description of
them. Early in this century the cellar of Gosnold’s house and fort were
distinctly to be seen; but unfortunately since then the ground of his
little island has been ploughed over and cultivated; so that hardly a
vestige of the ruin remains. Possibly a careful excavation would again
reveal portions of the cellar which Dr. Belknap, the historian, found
on his visit to the island in 1797.
In 1817 several members of the Massachusetts Historical Society visited
the Elizabeth Islands (Gosnold’s name for Cuttyhunk having since been
transferred to the entire group), and an account of their visit may be
found in the fifth volume of the North American Review, from which I
make the following extract:
[Illustration: A WRECK AT CUTTYHUNK.]
“In the western end of the pond is a high islet surrounded by a rocky
margin and covered with a very rich soil.... The stump of a red
cedar stood near the shore, and we brought home a piece of it as a
remembrance of our expedition. On the northern bank of the islet, about
ten yards from the water, we found a small excavation overgrown with
bushes and grass, on one side of which were three large stones in a row
at the distance of three feet from each other, having under them other
stones of the same size lying in the same direction. Between these were
smaller stones, which appeared by their form and smoothness to have
been taken from the beach. In another slight excavation twenty yards
south of the former, near the centre and highest part of the islet,
were similar stones, but very few in number and not disposed in any
apparent order. On digging in other parts of the islet we found more of
the same kind. We conjectured that the first excavation was all that
remained of Gosnold’s cellar and the latter a part of the trench dug
for the purpose of forming the fort.”
The desirability of some simple monument to commemorate this first
European settlement in New England, and in memory of Bartholomew
Gosnold, who died August 22d, 1607, and was buried in an unknown grave
at Jamestown, Virginia, has often been suggested. Nearly three hundred
years have passed, and at present Gosnold’s Island is adorned with a
deserted henhouse.
None of the Elizabeth Islands retain their primitive appearance, except
Naushon, the largest of them. Here noble forests of beech, oak and
other trees cover the land, while the wild grape and other vines grow
luxuriantly among the branches. The islands have all preserved their
Indian names, which have been put into rhyme:
“Naushon, Nonamesset,
Onkatonka and Wepecket,
Nashawena, Pesquinese,
Cuttyhunk and Penequese.”
Cuttyhunk is contracted from the Indian name Poocutohhunkounoh, which
may mean Place of Departure. Quawck was the Indian name for Gosnold’s
Islet. A lofty promontory running out from the north of Cuttyhunk
was called by the Indians Copicut, or Cappiquat, meaning thick, dark
woods. This name it still bears. Canapitset is the name for the passage
between Nashawena and Cuttyhunk. Nashanaw was the collective aboriginal
name for the whole group, and probably means Our Father’s Islands.
[Illustration: THE LIFE-SAVING CREW.]
The modern visitor to Cuttyhunk will find much to reward him if he
has eyes and ears to know the sea and the rocky, wreck-strewn shore;
if he loves to feel the salt wind blow, full of life, from the
bounding waves, and will watch the play of light and shade on the
rainbow-colored cliffs of fair Gay Head.
After a storm at sea great waves roll in around Cape Cod and Martha’s
Vineyard and hurl their “thunderous snow” upon the rocks of Cuttyhunk;
often when all is fair o’erhead. Sometimes one may see great billows
driving in to the shore in the very teeth of a northeast gale, which
cuts the foam from off their crests and tosses it, a wind-blown sheet
of sparkling spray, far out behind each charging wave.
[Illustration: THE LIFE-SAVING CREW AT PRACTICE.]
The island affords almost nothing to do; but the beauty of it is the
visitor to Cuttyhunk does not want to do anything. First impressions
are likely to be amusing. A harbor without a wharf, a village without
a street, country without a tramp--such is Cuttyhunk. The coming of
the mail steamer is the event of the week, in the summer the event
of each day. Entering the harbor a number of small catboats are seen,
standing on and off, ready to convey passengers and baggage, live stock
and freight--whatever comes their way--through “the narrows” into “the
pond,” where a landing can be made. The channel runs close to a long,
low sand spit, covered completely with heaps of wave-washed stones and
shattered wreckage.
[Illustration: A GLIMPSE OF THE ISLAND.]
“Mamma, what is that horrid thing with teeth?” asked a trembling little
girl, as the boat swept toward a great, black, jaw-like wreck of a
schooner’s bow, high and dry on the rocks.
When the tide runs out through “the narrows” and a head wind is
blowing the island expressman comes into service before the baggage is
put ashore. Over the stones and into the rushing water go the stout
horse and wagon, a rope is heaved from the boat, and, thanks to the
harmonious action of sail and horsepower, the boatload is soon safe
beside the little dock in the quiet “pond.” Landing, you cross a bit of
sea marsh by a narrow, raised causeway of boards. If two fat men meet
here at high tide a retreat or a bath must follow.
[Illustration: THE SURF AT CUTTYHUNK]
Such minor difficulties avoided, the way (made largely of old ship
planking) leads to the foot of the hill on which the straggling village
rests. Here a short halt gives time to let down the bars from a gate
and the party proceeds upwards a hundred yards or more to where a short
flight of ship steps mounts securely beneath the wide, upright plank of
a board fence. The upper planks have been removed, and a little agility
and caution will enable the stranger to pass on his way rejoicing. Next
you ascend to a partial opening in a stone wall, and higher still some
strictly natural stone steps, surmounted by a swinging gate.
Once on the other side, you have attained the goal of your desire, and
are in the heart of the little settlement of perhaps twenty houses.
Gates still confront you on every side, gates adorned with relics of
many an old wreck and swinging open by aid of weights,--a heavy ship’s
pulley block or the shackle to an anchor. But the ways are free to
all--the island dogs are as amiable as their kind-hearted owners--and,
arrived at last under some hospitable roof, one learns the good results
of sea breezes and recent gymnastics in satisfying a voracious appetite
with delicious lobster, fish, fresh vegetables and many imported
delicacies.
Meanwhile the distribution of the mail is progressing at the
postoffice,--a whitewashed shed in the rear of one of the cottages.
Here, before a large assemblage of the islanders, the postmaster or his
wife calls off the names of fortunate recipients, letter by letter, and
then the meeting adjourns until time for the next mail. If you do not
happen to be present, and no one brings your mail, you can step into
the deserted postoffice and look for yourself over the pile of letters
yet uncalled for. No one thinks of locking up anything on the island.
Why should they, when all are honest and almost everybody related, so
that secrets are all in the family?
Fifty years ago, when New Bedford and Fairhaven had almost four hundred
whale ships, the Cuttyhunkers’ business was largely pilotage. Seven
men earned a good living in this important work; and there are still
several pilots hailing from the island. Many a deed of daring or narrow
escape from death one hears from their lips.
Two of them were sailing one very foggy day in the Sound, when suddenly
a schooner’s bow loomed up right above them. “Catch hold for your
life!” one pilot called to his fellow and leaping on to the martingale,
made his way quickly to the deck, where it required about a minute to
make the astonished crew understand that they had run down a pilot boat
and must lend a hand to rescue the other pilot. They found him clinging
to the bowsprit chains, with just his head above water, and soon hauled
him aboard. Next day the pilots, left on the lightship, discovered
their boat bottom up, righted her, bailed her out, and went back to
business as if nothing had happened.
[Illustration: VINEYARD SOUND AND GAY HEAD (GOSNOLD’S DOVER CLIFF) FROM
CUTTYHUNK.
From a painting by C. H. Gifford.]
One pilot has named his fishing boat the _Never Budge_. Another catboat
is called the _Mikado_, which, so a fisherman said, “is the title of
some big official, I don’t remember just where. Hold on a bit. Yes,
it’s Switzerland, that’s where it is.”
The islanders are great borrowers. If a man is building a shed or
doing anything for which some materials have failed to arrive from the
mainland, he goes round among “the neighbors” till he finds “suthin’
that’ll do,” and borrows it. A favorite Cuttyhunk story relates how a
man, buying salt to cure his fish, purchased two bags full, one for
use himself and one to lend friends. When any salt was borrowed it was
always returned and put back; yet the bag for lending was empty almost
as soon as that for home consumption.
Lobstering is now the principal business of the islanders. Formerly a
successful man could lay by one thousand dollars besides supporting
himself during a good season, which lasts from March till late
December. The years vary greatly; 1896 was the worst on record. In late
September one man said he had not cleared twenty-five dollars over
expenses. An old lobsterman said he had seen a steady decrease in
the number of lobsters caught during the last twenty-two years. Laws
have been passed to remedy this, fining anyone with lobsters under ten
and a half inches long five dollars for each “short lobster” in his
possession, but the laws are hard to enforce.
One grizzled Cuttyhunker lives half the year in an old warehouse just
above ordinary high water. In storms or very high tides everything
on the ground floor is awash; but the old salt said: “I don’t mind
that nothin’. The salt water has been swashin’ round me all my life.”
All his household goods are safely stored away in the upper story
underneath the eaves. A ladder with a rope hand-rail affords ready
access. One long window has a canvas shutter, fastened by rope lanyards
when the wind blows too strong for comfort.
“I like ter live down here,” said he. “It’s so handy to my work. I
start off lobsterin’ sometimes ’tween three and four o’clock in the
mornin’, and eat just a bite before startin’. Get in nigh on ter two in
the arternoon, hungry as a bear. Don’t want ter have to climb way up to
the village and wait to have things cooked. Here everythin’ is handy,
right by the dock. I eat whatever’s ready while I’m cookin’ suthin’
more,--or when my wife’s here, she cooks it.”
He is a strong, honest, quick-witted specimen of a Yankee fisherman
grandfather, weighing a hundred and eighty pounds, working early
and late, owning a farm in the centre of Martha’s Vineyard and an
orange grove in Florida. But he says: “There ain’t nothin’ in farmin’
nowadays. The wife she says wool is sellin’ for only twelve an’
thirteen cents a pound. Think on it!” As for the orange plantation, he
declares: “I won’t never git my money back again”; but in winter he
goes down South to “have a look at it.” The dock just in front of his
warehouse is taken up in the autumn, the props knocked from under it,
and all tied up and anchored as securely as possible on the bank; but
the winter storms play havoc with it nevertheless.
Cuttyhunk has a neat little schoolhouse, a church and a library of
three hundred books. The school is in session three-quarters of the
year, and the church the other quarter; for it is only in the summer
that the islanders can have a minister, or, more properly speaking, a
young man who hopes some day to become a minister. The stores are in
private houses and closely connected with the kitchen department. If
the good housewife gets tired of keeping certain things for sale, a
neighbor will undertake to supply them next season. The candy store
moves often, occupying a dark closet now in this house, now in that.
Forty or fifty people live on the island all winter, fourteen
households, besides the men at the life-saving station. Most of the
hard work comes in the spring, summer and fall. In winter the men make
lobster pots, smoke, play cards, lie around and take things easy.
Almost all the islanders come from old New England stock. They are
strong, courageous and hard-headed, slow to make friendships and slow
to break them; true as steel to those they love, and hospitable to all
who come to them.
Until two years ago no horse had reached Cuttyhunk. The island turnouts
were two-wheeled carts, drawn each by a stout donkey. Cows, sheep,
turkeys and hens roam freely almost everywhere. Old fishnets are hung
on poles to protect flower-beds and choice bits of kitchen garden.
With the exception of the few acres in and around the village, the
whole island (of between six and seven hundred acres) is owned by the
Cuttyhunk Fishing Club. “The farm” is rented out for five hundred
dollars a year, but of late it has not been a success, although corn
and other vegetables grow well. The reason seemed to be, as one of the
natives expressed it: “The man who runs the farm won’t make nothin’
outin it. Cause why? He hain’t got no headpiece.”
The clubhouse stands on a bold bluff looking off on the broad Atlantic
to the southwest and across Vineyard Sound, that highway of ships, to
where Gay Head rises glorious from the waves. In 1864 some New York
gentlemen discovered that striped bass could be caught from the rocks
of Cuttyhunk. A club was soon organized, and the clubhouse erected. Its
walls are decorated with paintings of great fish caught; but the bass
have decreased very greatly in numbers since the early seventies, when
nearly seven thousand pounds of the striped beauties were landed in a
single year. The largest bass on record weighed sixty-four pounds. But
even should the fish desert the island entirely, there is little danger
of the club members following. Most of them are well on in years, and
regard Cuttyhunk as one of the most delightful of places for a summer’s
rest. One old Texan has spent twenty-two successive seasons at the
club. Another member has never failed to appear in the last thirty-two
years. Behind the clubhouse a really beautiful garden glows with
many-colored flowers, and long rows of healthy vegetables give evidence
that the club table is not neglected. On the south a well-kept lawn
reaches down to the edge of the cliff; and a fine spyglass, mounted on
its tripod, invites to watch the passing ships.
But the central point of interest to Cuttyhunk visitors is apt to be
the life-saving station, established by the United States government
in 1889. As early as 1847 the Massachusetts Humane Society had erected
stations on the Elizabeth Islands, supplied with approved life-saving
appliances, for the use of the brave islanders, who would not brook the
sight of fellow mariners shipwrecked and perishing before their eyes
without an attempt at rescue.
Many are the crews whose lives these stout-hearted volunteers have
saved at the risk of their own. In February, 1893, when the brig
_Aquatic_ was wrecked on the “Sow and Pigs” reef, five of the six
members of the volunteer crew perished in their attempt to reach the
vessel. That was a terrible day for Cuttyhunk.[1]
[1] See poem “Cuttyhunk,” by Edward Payson Jackson, in the New England
Magazine, June, 1893.
But a few nights before, a four-masted schooner, the Douglass Dearborn,
was wrecked on the rocks to the southward and her half-frozen crew
rescued with great difficulty, one by one, in the breeches-buoy.
The life savers were worn out by their exertions. Suddenly came the
terrible news: “A brig wrecked on Sow and Pigs--the sea will break
her up before morning!” In haste the undaunted islanders made their
way to the west end of Cuttyhunk, where blazing torch-lights on the
wreck flared out of the darkness, above the seething combers, raging
in to the shore. “No boat can live in such a sea,” said a brave old
salt. “Oh! yes, she can,” answered Tim Akin, Jr., and he called
for volunteers. Five men stepped out and the surf-boat was quickly
launched. Slowly she staggered forward, up and down amid the waves.
Captain Tim was a man who never knew fear. “Come on, boys,--ain’t
this fun!” he shouted from his place at the steering oar. Just then,
close by the brig, a gigantic comber overwhelmed them and the men upon
the wreck saw four ghastly faces upturned to theirs as the gallant
rescuers, clinging to their overturned boat, were borne swiftly past,
helpless, into darkness and death. One man, Josiah Tilton, was carried
by the waves toward the brig’s stern. The bight of a rope was flung him
and he was saved, yet he alone of the life savers could not swim.
Contrary to all expectation, the brig held together until the following
noon, when all aboard her were rescued from the foretop where they
had taken refuge. The men had wrapped the topsails about them and
crouched under the lee thus made. But they were drenched by the icy
seas, and their clothes were frozen stiff in the biting wind gusts. A
little longer exposure would have ended their lives. A fund of $30,000
was subscribed and divided among the families of the drowned heroes,
and the Canadian government made a grant of $1000 for the same good
purpose,--for the wrecked brig hailed from St. John, N. B. The men
who perished had rescued many a shipwrecked crew. Their rewards were
sometimes $3, sometimes $5, and never more than $15 per man. Cuttyhunk
is a rough mother and rears strong and fearless sons. The voice of duty
is strong within them and courage is as the air they breathe.
A generous emulation exists between the government station men and
the other islanders to see who shall before-most in the noble work of
saving life. At the present time there are, as an old lobsterman said,
“three humane buildings” on Cuttyhunk. “The Captain” who has charge of
them has invented many a useful life-saving apparatus, and has medals
from Paris and Havre commending his work. He has on exhibition at the
Board of Trade building, Gloucester, Mass., a model of a life-saving
car, to be built of aluminum bronze. Its general adoption by coasting
vessels would result in the saving of many lives. The captain’s
interest in his invention is purely philanthropic, for he has never
applied for a patent.
At the government station seven or eight men are always on duty, except
during June and July. All night long and every foggy day they patrol
the cliffs and stony sand reaches along the west and south shores. Each
man carries two Coston signals, whose bright red glare has warned many
a ship approaching too near the dangerous coast or given promise to
wrecked mariners that help is not far distant.
In the handsome station, finished in hard polished wood and kept as
neat as wax, two big surf-boats are ready for emergency, mounted on
their long carriages and supplied with oars, life-preservers, ropes
and other necessaries. The beach-cart is there loaded with hawser,
shot-lines, Lyle gun and ammunition. There are the breeches-buoy,
the life-car and all things needed to send a strong rope out to the
wreck, along which rope when fastened to the mast the breeches-buoy or
life-car makes its perilous way through dashing surf and blinding spray
safe to the welcoming shore.
On the last July night, just before the men go on duty, a dance is
usually given at the life-saving station. The home of life-cars and
surf-boats is bare, save where upon the walls lanterns, life-belts,
blocks and tackles serve half as ornaments, half as a sombre setting
for the bright, girlish faces and the muscular, sunburnt men, who look
so well in their uniforms of blue and white. Through the great open
doorway a group of spectators can be dimly seen, leaning against a
life-car, standing, or sitting upon coils of rope, while beyond the
sea drags the pebbles over the singing beach and the half moon rides
through a cloudless sky. Promptly at twelve o’clock the fiddle and the
banjo, those instruments of Cuttyhunk gaiety, cease. Two guardsmen take
clocks and signals and start on their four-hour watch, which is to
continue every night and foggy day through cold and sleet and driving
rain until the summer comes again. These men receive sixty dollars a
month; and some of the islanders speak of the life savers as having “a
good berth and an easy time of it.”
Transcriber’s Notes
Perceived typographical errors have been silently corrected.
New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the
public domain.
Archaic and unusual spelling has been retained as in the original.
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