summaryrefslogtreecommitdiff
path: root/77366-h
diff options
context:
space:
mode:
authorwww-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org>2025-11-29 06:46:18 -0800
committerwww-data <www-data@mail.pglaf.org>2025-11-29 06:46:18 -0800
commit18540eccb29a3ba6c2c7bbf5303319036b9f8ddb (patch)
tree76fede36c0aa5a22e31799c1a45cc3cfc2f6802b /77366-h
Initial commit of ebook 77366 filesHEADmain
Diffstat (limited to '77366-h')
-rw-r--r--77366-h/77366-h.htm5442
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/cover.jpgbin0 -> 592834 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i003_frontis.jpgbin0 -> 290637 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i004_title.jpgbin0 -> 30488 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i008_01.jpgbin0 -> 8631 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i008_02.jpgbin0 -> 992 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i008_03.jpgbin0 -> 7107 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i010_01.jpgbin0 -> 76462 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i010_02.jpgbin0 -> 3227 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i022_18.jpgbin0 -> 501370 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i126_120.jpgbin0 -> 335327 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i188_180.jpgbin0 -> 357572 bytes
-rw-r--r--77366-h/images/i193.jpgbin0 -> 5464 bytes
13 files changed, 5442 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/77366-h/77366-h.htm b/77366-h/77366-h.htm
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..04fde38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/77366-h.htm
@@ -0,0 +1,5442 @@
+<!DOCTYPE html>
+<html lang="en">
+<head>
+ <meta charset="UTF-8">
+ <title>
+ Among the Isles of Shoals | Project Gutenberg
+ </title>
+ <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover">
+ <style>
+
+body {
+ margin-left: 10%;
+ margin-right: 10%;
+}
+
+ h1,h2 {
+ text-align: center;
+ clear: both;
+}
+
+p {
+ margin-top: .51em;
+ text-align: justify;
+ margin-bottom: .49em;
+}
+
+hr {
+ width: 33%;
+ margin-top: 2em;
+ margin-bottom: 2em;
+ margin-left: 33.5%;
+ margin-right: 33.5%;
+ clear: both;
+}
+
+hr.tb {width: 45%; margin-left: 27.5%; margin-right: 27.5%;}
+hr.chap {width: 65%; margin-left: 17.5%; margin-right: 17.5%;}
+@media print { hr.chap {display: none; visibility: hidden;} }
+
+div.chapter {page-break-before: always;}
+h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;}
+
+table {
+ margin-left: auto;
+ margin-right: auto;
+}
+table.autotable { border-collapse: collapse; }
+
+
+.tdl {text-align: left;}
+.tdr {text-align: right;}
+
+.pagenum {
+
+ position: absolute;
+ left: 92%;
+ font-size: small;
+ text-align: right;
+ font-style: normal;
+ font-weight: normal;
+ font-variant: normal;
+ text-indent: 0;
+}
+
+
+.center {text-align: center;}
+
+.caption {font-weight: bold;}
+
+.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;}
+
+img {
+ max-width: 100%;
+ height: auto;
+}
+img.w100 {width: 100%;}
+
+
+.figcenter {
+ margin: auto;
+ text-align: center;
+ page-break-inside: avoid;
+ max-width: 100%;
+}
+
+.footnote {margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-size: 0.9em;}
+
+.footnote .label {position: absolute; right: 84%; text-align: right;}
+
+.fnanchor {
+ vertical-align: super;
+ font-size: .8em;
+ text-decoration:
+ none;
+}
+
+.poetry-container {text-align: center;}
+.poetry {text-align: left; margin-left: 5%; margin-right: 5%;}
+.poetry .stanza {margin: 1em auto;}
+.poetry .verse {text-indent: -3em; padding-left: 3em;}
+
+.transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA;
+ color: black;
+ font-size:small;
+ padding:0.5em;
+ margin-bottom:5em;
+ font-family:sans-serif, serif;
+}
+
+
+.poetry .indent0 {text-indent: -3em;}
+.poetry .indent2 {text-indent: -2em;}
+
+.illowp30 {width: 30%;}
+.illowp40 {width: 40%;}
+.illowp80 {width: 80%;}
+.illowp90 {width: 90%;}
+
+
+img.drop-cap
+{
+ float: left;
+ margin: 0 0.5em 0 0;
+}
+
+p.drop-cap:first-letter
+{
+ color: transparent;
+ visibility: hidden;
+ margin-left: -0.9em;
+}
+
+.upper-case
+{
+ text-transform: uppercase;
+}
+
+x-ebookmaker-drop
+ {
+ display:none;
+ }
+
+.x-ebookmaker img.drop-cap
+ {
+ display: none;
+ }
+
+.x-ebookmaker p.drop-cap:first-letter
+ {
+ color: inherit;
+ visibility: visible;
+ margin-left: 0;
+ }
+
+ </style>
+
+</head>
+<body>
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77366 ***</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</span></p>
+
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp80" id="i003_frontis" style="max-width: 126.5625em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i003_frontis.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">White Island, looking Southwest from Appledore.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</span></p>
+
+
+
+
+<h1><i>Among the Isles of Shoals.</i></h1>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">By</span> CELIA THAXTER.</p>
+
+<p class="center">With Illustrations.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp30" id="i004_title" style="max-width: 10em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i004_title.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+
+<p class="center">“Only to hear and see the far-off sparkling brine.”</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Tennyson.</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">BOSTON AND NEW YORK<br>
+HOUGHTON MIFFLIN COMPANY<br>
+The Riverside Press, Cambridge
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</span></p>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+
+
+<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1873, BY JAMES R. OSGOOD &amp; COMPANY</p>
+
+<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1901, BY ROLAND THAXTER</p>
+
+<p class="center">COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY ROLAND THAXTER AND JOHN THAXTER</p>
+
+<p class="center">ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
+</p>
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</span></p>
+
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.</h2>
+</div>
+
+
+
+<table class="autotable">
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><a href="#i003_frontis">White Island, looking Southwest from Appledore</a></td>
+<td class="tdr"><i>Frontispiece.</i></td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><a href="#i022_18">Trap Dike, Appledore</a></td>
+<td class="tdr">Page 18</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><a href="#i126_120">White Island</a></td>
+<td class="tdr">“ 120</td>
+</tr>
+<tr>
+<td class="tdl"><a href="#i188_180">View from the Southeastern Point of Appledore</a></td>
+<td class="tdr">“ 180</td>
+</tr>
+</table>
+
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[Pgs 5-6]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp40" id="i008_01" style="max-width: 63.5em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i008_01.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+<div class="x-ebookmaker-drop">
+ <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i008_02.jpg" width="50" height="50" alt="">
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">It</span> is with reluctance that I suffer these
+fragmentary and inadequate sketches of
+the Isles of Shoals to appear in book
+form. Except that some account of the place,
+however slight, is so incessantly called for by
+people who throng these islands in summer, I
+should hardly venture to offer to the public so
+imperfect a chronicle, of which the most that
+can be said is, that it is, perhaps, better than
+nothing.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp40" id="i008_03" style="max-width: 47.0625em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i008_03.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+
+</div>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</span></p>
+
+
+
+<div class="chapter">
+<h2 class="nobreak" id="AMONG_THE_ISLES_OF_SHOALS">AMONG THE ISLES OF SHOALS.</h2>
+</div>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp40" id="i010_01" style="max-width: 47.0625em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i010_01.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+<br>
+
+<div class="x-ebookmaker-drop">
+ <img class="drop-cap" src="images/i010_02.jpg" width="50" height="50" alt="">
+</div>
+
+<p class="drop-cap"><span class="upper-case">In</span>
+a series of papers published not many
+years ago, Herman Melville made the
+world acquainted with the “Encantadas,”
+or Enchanted Islands, which he describes as
+lying directly under the equator, off the coast of
+South America, and of which he says: “It is to
+be doubted whether any spot of earth can, in desolateness,
+furnish a parallel to this group.” But
+their dark volcanic crags and melancholy beaches
+can hardly seem more desolate than do the low
+bleached rocks of the Isles of Shoals to eyes that
+behold them for the first time. Very sad they
+look, stern, bleak, and unpromising, yet are they
+enchanted islands in a better sense of the word
+than are the great Galapagos of which Mr. Melville
+discourses so delightfully.</p>
+
+<p>There is a strange charm about them, an<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</span>
+indescribable influence in their atmosphere, hardly to be
+explained, but universally acknowledged. People
+forget the hurry and worry and fret of life after
+living there awhile, and, to an imaginative mind,
+all things become dreamy as they were to the
+lotus-eaters, to whom</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“The gushing of the wave</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Far, far away did seem to mourn and rave</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">On alien shores.”</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p>The eternal sound of the sea on every side has
+a tendency to wear away the edge of human
+thought and perception; sharp outlines become
+blurred and softened like a sketch in charcoal;
+nothing appeals to the mind with the same distinctness
+as on the mainland, amid the rush and
+stir of people and things, and the excitements of
+social life. This was strikingly illustrated during
+the late war, which, while it wrung the heart of
+the whole country, and stirred the blood of every
+man, woman, and child on the continent, left the
+handful of human beings upon these lonely rocks
+almost untouched. The echoes of woe and terror
+were so faint and far they seemed to lose their
+significance among the many-voiced waters they
+crossed, and reached at last the indifferent ears they
+sought with no more force than a spent wave.</p>
+
+<p>Nine miles of the Atlantic Ocean intervene<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</span>
+between these islands and the nearest point of the
+coast of New Hampshire; but from this nearest
+point the coast-line recedes gradually, in dim and
+dimmer distance, to Cape Ann, in Massachusetts,
+twenty-one miles away at the southwest, and to
+Cape Neddock, in Maine, sixteen miles distant in
+the northeast (in clear weather another cape is
+faintly distinguishable beyond this), and about one
+third of the great horizon is filled by this beautiful,
+undulating line of land, which, under the
+touch of atmospheric change, is almost as plastic
+as the clouds, and wears a new aspect with every
+turn of wind and weather.</p>
+
+<p>Sailing out from Portsmouth Harbor with a fair
+wind from the northwest, the Isles of Shoals lie
+straight before you, nine miles away,—ill-defined
+and cloudy shapes, faintly discernible in the distance.
+A word about the origin of this name,
+“Isles of Shoals.” They are supposed to have
+been so called, not because the ragged reefs run
+out beneath the water in all directions, ready to
+wreck and destroy, but because of the “shoaling,”
+or “schooling,” of fish about them, which, in the
+mackerel and herring seasons, is remarkable. As
+you approach they separate, and show each its own
+peculiar characteristics, and you perceive that
+there are six islands if the tide is low; but if it is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</span>
+high, there are eight, and would be nine, but that
+a breakwater connects two of them. Appledore,
+called for many years Hog Island, from its rude
+resemblance to a hog’s back rising from the water,
+when seen from out at sea, is the largest and most
+regular in shape. From afar, it looks smoothly
+rounded, like a gradually sloping elevation, the
+greatest height of which is only seventy-five feet
+above high-water mark. A little valley in which
+are situated the buildings belonging to the house
+of entertainment, which is the only habitation,
+divides its four hundred acres into two unequal
+portions. Next, almost within a stone’s throw, is
+Haley’s Island, or “Smutty-nose,” so christened
+by passing sailors, with a grim sense of humor,
+from a long black point of rock stretching out to
+the southeast, upon which many a ship has laid
+her bones. This island is low and flat, and contains
+a greater depth of soil than the others. At
+low tide, Cedar and Malaga are both connected
+with it,—the latter permanently by a breakwater,—the
+whole comprising about one hundred acres.
+Star Island contains one hundred and fifty acres,
+and lies a quarter of a mile southwest of Smutty-nose.
+Toward its northern end are clustered the
+houses of the little village of Gosport, with a tiny
+church crowning the highest rock. Not quite a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</span>
+mile southwest from Star, White Island lifts a
+lighthouse for a warning. This is the most picturesque
+of the group, and forms, with Seavey’s
+Island, at low water, a double island, with an area
+of some twenty acres. Most westerly lies Londoner’s,
+an irregular rock with a bit of beach, upon
+which all the shells about the cluster seem to be
+thrown. Two miles northeast from Appledore,
+Duck Island thrusts out its lurking ledges on all
+sides beneath the water, one of them running half
+a mile to the northwest. This is the most dangerous
+of the islands, and, being the most remote,
+is the only one visited to any great degree by the
+shy sea-fowl that are nearly banished by civilization.
+Yet even now, at low tide, those long black
+ledges are often whitened by the dazzling plumage
+of gulls whose exquisite and stainless purity rivals
+the new-fallen snow. The ledges run toward the
+west and north; but at the east and south the
+shore is bolder, and Shag and Mingo Rocks, where,
+during or after storms, the sea breaks with magnificent
+effect, lie isolated by a narrow channel
+from the main granite fragment. A very round
+rock west of Londoner’s, perversely called “Square,”
+and Anderson’s Rock, off the southeast end of
+Smutty-nose, complete the catalogue.</p>
+
+<p>Smutty-nose and Appledore are almost united<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</span>
+by a reef, bare at low tide, though a large vessel
+can pass between them even then. Off the landing
+at White Island the Devil’s Rock rolls an incessant
+breaker, and makes an attempt to reach
+the shore perilous in any but the serenest weather.
+Between Londoner’s and Star is another, hardly
+bare at low tide; a perpetual danger, for it lies
+directly in the path of most of the sailing vessels,
+and many a schooner has been “brought up all
+standing” by this unexpected obstacle. Another
+rock, about four miles east of Appledore, rejoices
+in the significant title of the “Old Harry.” Old
+Harry is deeply sunk beneath the surface, and
+never betrays himself except in great storms, when
+an awful white spray rises afar off, and the Shoalers
+know how tremendous are the breakers that
+send it skyward.</p>
+
+<p>The names of the towns, Appledore, Gosport,
+and, along the coast, Portsmouth, Newcastle, Rye,
+Ipswich, Portland, Bangor, Newbury, Amesbury,
+Salisbury, and many more, are all borrowed from
+towns on, or not far from, the coasts of England
+and Wales, as may be seen from the maps of those
+countries. Salisbury Beach fronts our islands.
+Amesbury lies farther inland, but the gentle outline
+of Po Hill, in that town, is the last eminence
+of any importance on the southern end of the
+coast line.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</span></p>
+
+<p>The dividing line between Maine and New
+Hampshire passes through the group, giving Appledore,
+Smutty-nose, and Duck Islands to Maine, and
+the rest to New Hampshire; but their allegiance to
+either is a matter of small importance, the few
+inhabitants troubling themselves but little about
+what State they belong to. Till within a few
+years no taxes were required of them, and they
+enjoyed immunity from this and various other
+earthly ills as completely as the gulls and loons
+that shared their dwelling-place.</p>
+
+<p>Swept by every wind that blows, and beaten
+by the bitter brine for unknown ages, well may
+the Isles of Shoals be barren, bleak, and bare. At
+first sight nothing can be more rough and inhospitable
+than they appear. The incessant influences
+of wind and sun, rain, snow, frost, and spray, have
+so bleached the tops of the rocks, that they look
+hoary as if with age, though in the summer-time
+a gracious greenness of vegetation breaks here and
+there the stern outlines, and softens somewhat
+their rugged aspect. Yet so forbidding are their
+shores, it seems scarcely worth while to land upon
+them,—mere heaps of tumbling granite in the
+wide and lonely sea,—when all the smiling, “sapphire-spangled
+marriage-ring of the land” lies
+ready to woo the voyager back again, and welcome<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</span>
+his returning prow with pleasant sights and sounds
+and scents that the wild wastes of water never
+know. But to the human creature who has eyes
+that will see and ears that will hear, nature appeals
+with such a novel charm, that the luxurious
+beauty of the land is half forgotten before one is
+aware. Its sweet gardens, full of color and perfume,
+its rich woods and softly swelling hills, its
+placid waters, and fields and flowery meadows, are
+no longer dear and desirable; for the wonderful
+sound of the sea dulls the memory of all past impressions,
+and seems to fulfil and satisfy all present
+needs. Landing for the first time, the stranger is
+struck only by the sadness of the place,—the vast
+loneliness; for there are not even trees to whisper
+with familiar voices,—nothing but sky and sea
+and rocks. But the very wildness and desolation
+reveal a strange beauty to him. Let him wait till
+evening comes,</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“With sunset purple soothing all the waste,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>and he will find himself slowly succumbing to the
+subtile charm of that sea atmosphere. He sleeps
+with all the waves of the Atlantic murmuring in
+his ears, and wakes to the freshness of a summer
+morning; and it seems as if morning were made for
+the first time. For the world is like a new-blown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</span>
+rose, and in the heart of it he stands, with only
+the caressing music of the water to break the utter
+silence, unless, perhaps, a song-sparrow pours out
+its blissful warble like an embodied joy. The sea
+is rosy, and the sky; the line of land is radiant;
+the scattered sails glow with the delicious color
+that touches so tenderly the bare, bleak rocks.
+These are lovelier than sky or sea or distant sails,
+or graceful gulls’ wings reddened with the dawn;
+nothing takes color so beautifully as the bleached
+granite; the shadows are delicate, and the fine,
+hard outlines are glorified and softened beneath
+the fresh first blush of sunrise. All things are
+speckless and spotless; there is no dust, no noise,
+nothing but peace in the sweet air and on the
+quiet sea. The day goes on; the rose changes to
+mellow gold, the gold to clear, white daylight, and
+the sea is sparkling again. A breeze ripples the
+surface, and wherever it touches the color deepens.
+A seine-boat passes, with the tawny net heaped in
+the stern, and the scarlet shirts of the rowers brilliant
+against the blue. Pleasantly their voices
+come across the water, breaking the stillness. The
+fishing-boats steal to and fro, silent, with glittering
+sails; the gulls wheel lazily; the far-off coasters
+glide rapidly along the horizon; the mirage steals
+down the coast-line, and seems to remove it leagues<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</span>
+away. And what if it were to slip down the
+slope of the world and disappear entirely? You
+think, in a half-dream, you would not care. Many
+troubles, cares, perplexities, vexations, lurk behind
+that far, faint line for you. Why should you be
+bothered any more?</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“Let us alone. Time driveth onward fast,<br>
+And in a little while our lips are dumb.”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>And so the waves, with their lulling murmur, do
+their work, and you are soothed into repose and
+transient forgetfulness.</p>
+
+<p>The natives, or persons who have been brought
+up here, find it almost as difficult to tear themselves
+away from the islands as do the Swiss to
+leave their mountains. From a civilized race’s
+point of view, this is a curious instance of human
+perversity, since it is not good for men to live their
+whole lives through in such remote and solitary
+places. Nobody hears of people dying of homesickness
+for New York, or Albany, or Maine, or
+California, or any place on the broad continent;
+but to wild and lonely spots like these isles humanity
+clings with an intense and abiding affection.
+No other place is able to furnish the inhabitants
+of the Shoals with sufficient air for their capacious
+lungs; there is never scope enough elsewhere;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</span>
+there is no horizon; they must have sea-room.
+On shore it is to them as if all the trees and houses
+crowded against the windows to suffocation; and I
+know a youth who, when at the age of thirteen he
+made his first visit to the mainland, descended to
+the cellar of the house in which he found himself,
+in the not over-populous city of Portsmouth, and
+spent the few hours of his stay sitting dejectedly
+upon a wood-pile, in mute protest against the condition
+of things in general, and the pressure of
+human society in particular.</p>
+
+<p>Each island has its peculiar characteristics, as I
+said before, and no two are alike, though all are of
+the same coarse granite, mixed with masses and
+seams of quartz and feldspar and gneiss and mica-slate,
+and interspersed with dikes of trap running
+in all directions. Upon Appledore, for the most
+part, the trap runs from north to south, while
+the veins of quartz and feldspar run from east to
+west. Sometimes the narrow white quartz veins
+intersect the dark trap, in parallel lines, now wavering,
+and now perfectly straight, and showing a
+surface like that of some vast piece of inlaid work.
+Each island presents its boldest shore to the east,
+to breast the whole force of the great Atlantic,
+which every year assails the iron cliffs and headlands
+with the same ponderous fury, yet leaves<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</span>
+upon them so little trace of its immense power,—though
+at White Island, on the top of a precipitous
+rock called “The Head,” which is nearly fifty
+feet high, lies a bowlder weighing fifteen tons,
+tossed there from below by the breakers. The
+shores are seldom very bold, but on the east they
+are often very striking with their rifts and chasms,
+and roughly piled gorges, and square quarries of
+stone, and stairways cut as if by human hands.
+The trap rock, softer than the granite, is worn
+away in many places, leaving bare perpendicular
+walls fifteen or twenty feet high. The largest trap
+dike upon Appledore runs across the island from
+northeast to southwest, disappears in the sea, and
+reappears upon Smutty-nose, a quarter of a mile
+distant in a straight line. In some places, the geologist
+will tell you, certain deep scratches in the
+solid rock mean that here the glacier ground its
+way across in the world’s earlier ages. Frequently
+the trap rock is honeycombed in a curious fashion,—filled
+with small holes on the surface, as if drops
+of water falling for years in the same spots had
+worn these smooth round hollows. This always
+happens close to the water, and only in the trap
+rock, and looks as if it might be the result of the
+flying spray which, in winter and toward spring,
+when the northwest gales blow sometimes for three
+weeks steadily day and night, beats continually
+upon the shore.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp90" id="i022_18" style="max-width: 88.0625em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i022_18.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">Trap Dike, Appledore.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</span>
+
+<p>The coast-line varies, of course, with high or
+low tide. At low water the shores are much more
+forbidding than at high tide, for a broad band of
+dark sea-weed girdles each island, and gives a sullen
+aspect to the whole group. But in calm days,
+when the moon is full and the tides are so low
+that it sometimes seems as if the sea were being
+drained away on purpose to show to eager eyes
+what lies beneath the lowest ebb, banks of golden green
+and brown moss thickly clustered on the
+moist ledges are exposed, and the water is cut
+by the ruffled edges of the kelps that grow in
+brown and shining forests on every side. At sunrise
+or sunset the effect of the long rays slanting
+across these masses of rich color is very beautiful.
+But at high tide the shores are most charming;
+every little cove and inlet is filled with the music
+of the waves, and their life, light, color, and sparkle.
+Who shall describe that wonderful noise of
+the sea among the rocks, to me the most suggestive
+of all the sounds in nature? Each island,
+every isolated rock, has its own peculiar rote, and
+ears made delicate by listening, in great and frequent
+peril, can distinguish the bearings of each
+in a dense fog. The threatening speech of Duck<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</span>
+Island’s ledges, the swing of the wave over Halfway
+Rock, the touch of the ripples on the beach
+at Londoner’s, the long and lazy breaker that is
+forever rolling below the lighthouse at White
+Island,—all are familiar and distinct, and indicate
+to the islander his whereabouts almost as clearly
+as if the sun shone brightly and no shrouding
+mist were striving to mock and to mislead him.</p>
+
+<p>There are no beaches of any considerable size
+along the circle of these shores, and except in two
+narrow fissures, one on Malaga and one on Star,
+only a few feet wide at their widest, there is no
+fine, clean sand, such as lies sparkling on the coast
+at Rye, opposite, and shows, faintly glimmering,
+white in the far distance. The dock at Smutty-nose
+is filled with coarse sand and mud, like the
+little basin of the “Upper Cove” on Appledore;
+and the largest beach on Star, of the same character,
+is covered with a stratum of fish-bones several
+feet deep,—by no means a pleasantly fragrant
+pavement. Roughly rounded pebbles, not beautiful
+with warmth of color like those on the Cohasset
+beaches, but a cold, hard combination of gray granite
+and dark trap, are heaped in the coves. Indian
+arrowheads of jasper and flint have been
+found among them. Now and then a smoother
+bit consists of a coarse gravel, which, if you<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</span>
+examine, you will find to be principally composed of
+shells ground fine by the waves, a fascinating mixture
+of blue and purple mussels, lined with the
+rainbow tints of mother-of-pearl, and fragments of
+golden and ruddy snail-shells, and striped and colored
+cockles; with here and there a piece of transparent
+quartz, white or rosy, or of opaque feldspar,
+faintly straw-colored, or of dull-purple porphyry
+stone, all clean and moist with the odorous brine.
+Upon Appledore and the little islets undevastated
+by civilization these tiny coves are the most delightful
+places in the world, lovely with their fringe
+of weeds, thistles, and mullein-stalks drawn clearly
+against the sky at the upper edge of the slope,
+and below, their mosaic of stone and shell and
+sea-wrack, tangles of kelp and driftwood,—a mass
+of warm neutral tints,—with brown, green, and
+crimson mosses, and a few golden snail-shells lying
+on the many-tinted gravel, where the indolent
+ripples lapse in delicious murmurs. There are few
+shells more delicate than the variegated snails and
+cockles and stout whelks that sparsely strew the
+beaches, but these few are exceedingly beautiful,
+and more precious from their rarity. Two kinds
+of pure white spiral shells, not quite an inch long,
+are occasionally found, and cause one to wonder
+how they can be rolled together with the heavy
+pebbles by the breakers and not be annihilated.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</span></p>
+
+<p>After the dark blue mussel-shells have lain long
+on shore in sun and rain, they take a curious satin
+sheen, lovely to behold, and the larger kind, shedding
+their coat of brown varnish, are colored like
+the eastern sky in clear winter sunsets, a rosy purple,
+with pearly linings streaked with iridescent
+hues. The driftwood is always full of suggestions:—a
+broken oar; a bit of spar with a ragged end
+of rope-yarn attached; a section of a mast hurriedly
+chopped, telling of a tragedy too well known
+on the awful sea; a water-worn buoy, or flakes
+of rich brown bark, which have been peacefully
+floated down the rivers of Maine and out on the
+wide sea, to land at last here and gladden firesides
+so remote from the deep green wood where they
+grew; pine-cones, with their spicy fragrance yet
+lingering about them; apples, green spruce twigs,
+a shingle, with some carpenter’s half-obliterated
+calculations pencilled upon it; a child’s roughly
+carved boat; drowned butterflies, beetles, birds;
+dead boughs of ragged fir-trees completely draped
+with the long, shining ribbon-grass that grows in
+brackish water near river mouths. The last, after
+lying awhile in the wind and sun, present a weird
+appearance, for the narrow ribbons are dried and
+bleached as white as chalk, and shiver and shudder
+with every wind that blows. It used to be a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</span>
+great delight to hold such a bough aloft, and watch
+all the long, delicate pennons and streamers fly
+trembling out on the breeze. Beyond high-water
+mark all things in the course of time take a uniform
+gray color from the weather; wood, shells,
+stones, deposited by some great tide or storm, and
+left undisturbed for months, chocolate-colored bark
+and yellow shingle and gray stone are not to be
+distinguished one from another, except by their
+shape. Of course all white things grow whiter,
+and shells already colorless become as pure as
+snow. Sometimes the slabs and blocks of wood
+that float ashore have drifted so long that they are
+water-logged, and covered with a rich growth of
+mosses, barnacles, and wondrous sea-creatures.
+Sometimes they are completely riddled by the
+pholas, and the hardest shells are pierced smoothly
+through and through by these soft worms.</p>
+
+<p>But as a child I was never without apprehension
+when examining the drift, for I feared to find
+some too dreadful token of disaster. After the
+steamer Bohemian was wrecked (off Halifax, I
+think) a few years ago, bales of her costly cargo
+of silks and rich stuffs and pieces of the wreck
+were strewn along the coast even to Cape Ann;
+and upon Rye Beach, among other things, two
+boots came on shore. They were not mates, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</span>
+each contained a human foot. That must have
+been a grewsome discovery to him who picked them
+up.</p>
+
+<p>There are not many of these quiet coves. In
+general a confusion reigns as if an earthquake had
+rent and split the coasts, and tumbled the masses
+in chaotic heaps. On Appledore and the larger
+islands the interior is rather smoother, though nowhere
+will you find many rods of plain walking.
+Slopes of greenness alternate with the long white
+ledges, and here and there are bits of swampy
+ground and little valleys where the turf is short,
+and the sheep love to browse, and the mushrooms
+grow in August and September. There are no
+trees except, perhaps, a few balm-of-gilead trees
+on Star and a small elm on Appledore, which has
+been struggling with the bleakness of the situation
+some twenty years. It is very probable that the
+islands were wooded many years ago with spruce
+and pine perhaps,—a rugged growth. I am certain
+that cedars grew there, for I found on the highest
+part of Smutty-nose Point, deep down in a crevice
+in the rocks, a piece of a root of cedar-wood, which,
+though perfectly preserved, bore marks of great
+age, being worn as smooth as glass with the raindrops
+that had penetrated to its hiding-place.
+There are a few bushes, browsed down by the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</span>
+sheep, with maple, poplar, and birch leaves; and
+I have seen the crumbling remains of the stump
+of some large tree in the principal gorge or valley
+at Appledore. The oldest inhabitants remember
+quite an orchard on Smutty-nose. In the following
+note (for which I am indebted to Mr. T. B.
+Fox) from “Christopher Leavitt’s Voyage into New
+England” in the year 1623, it appears that there
+were trees, though not of the kind the voyagers
+wished to see. He says: “The first place I set my
+foot upon in New England was the Isles of
+Shoulds. We could see not one good timber tree,
+or so much good ground as to make a garden.
+Good fishing-place for six ships,” he goes on to say,
+“not more for want of good storage rooms. Harbor
+indifferent good. No savages at all.” That
+was two hundred and forty-six years ago. In the
+Rev. Jedediah Morse’s journal of a mission to the
+Shoals in August, 1800, he says, referring to the
+wretched state of the inhabitants of Star Island at
+that time, “All the trees, and the bushes even,
+have been consumed, and they have cut up, dried,
+and burned many acres of the sward, leaving only
+naked rocks where formerly there was the finest
+pasturage for cows.” The bushes have never
+grown again on Star; but Appledore, wherever
+there is soil enough to hold a root, is overgrown<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</span>
+with huckleberry and bayberry bushes, the glossy
+green leaves of the latter yielding a wholesome,
+aromatic fragrance, which accords well with the
+fresh and healthy sea-odors. Blackberry, raspberry,
+wild currant, and gooseberry bushes also flourish;
+there are clumps of elder and sumach, woodbine
+and the poison ivy, shrubs of wild-cherry and
+shadbush, and even one little wild apple-tree that
+yearly bears a few large, bright blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>It is curious to note the varieties of plants, wild-flowers,
+and grasses on this island alone. There
+are six different ferns, and many delicate flowers
+bloom in the spring, whose faces it is a continual
+surprise to find looking up at you from the rough
+ground, among the rocks. Every flower seems
+twice as beautiful under these circumstances; and it
+is a fact that the salt air and a peculiar richness in
+the soil give a luxuriance of growth and a depth of
+color not found elsewhere. “Is that willow-weed”
+(or whatever it may be)? “I never saw
+any so bright!” is a remark often heard from
+strangers visiting the islands for the first time.
+The pale-pink herb-robert, for instance, blushes
+with a tint almost as deep as a damask rose, and
+as for the wild-roses, I heard some one say they
+were as “bright as red carnations.” In the spring
+the anemones are stained with purple and pink<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</span>
+and yellow in a way that makes their sisters of
+the mainland seem pallid beside them; and the
+violets are wonderful,—the blue ones so large
+and dark, and the delicately-veined white ones rich
+with creamy fragrance.</p>
+
+<p>The calyx of the shadbush-flower is dyed with
+purple, almost crimson, and the color runs into
+the milky whiteness of the petals. The little
+pimpernel (when it has anything but salt gravel to
+grow in, for it runs fairly into the sea) is clear
+vermilion, and the pearly eyebright is violet on
+the edges; the shy celandine glows golden in its
+shady clefts, and the spotted jewel-weed is as rich
+and splendid as a flower in Doctor Rappacini’s famous
+garden. Sometimes it is as if the order of
+nature were set aside in this spot; for you find the
+eyebright and pimpernel and white violets growing
+side by side until the frost comes in November;
+often October passes with no sign of frost,
+and the autumn lingers later than elsewhere. I
+have even seen the iris and wild-rose and golden-rod
+and aster in blossom together, as if, not having
+the example of the world before their eyes, they
+followed their own sweet will, and bloomed when
+they took the fancy. As for garden flowers, when
+you plant them in this soil they fairly run mad
+with color. People say, “Do give me some seeds<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</span>
+of these wonderful flowers”; and they sow them
+in their gardens on the mainland, and they come
+up decorous, commonplace, and pale, like their sisters
+in the same soil. The little spot of earth on
+which they grow at the island is like a mass of
+jewels. Who shall describe the pansies, richly
+streaked with burning gold; the dark velvet coreopsis
+and the nasturtium; the larkspurs, blue and
+brilliant as lapis-lazuli; the “ardent marigolds,”
+that flame like mimic suns? The sweet-peas are
+of a deep, bright rose-color, and their odor is like
+rich wine, too sweet almost to be borne, except
+when the pure fragrance of mignonette is added,—such
+mignonette as never grows on shore.
+Why should the poppies blaze in such imperial
+scarlet? What quality is hidden in this thin soil,
+which so transfigures all the familiar flowers with
+fresh beauty? I have heard it said that it is the
+crumbled rock which so enriches the earth, but I
+do not know.</p>
+
+<p>If a flock of sheep and various cows did not
+browse over Appledore incessantly, it would be a
+little wilderness of wild-flowers in the summer;
+they love the soil and climate, and put forth all
+their strength and loveliness. And every year or
+two a new kind appears, of which the seed has
+been brought by some bird, or, perhaps, shaken<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</span>
+out of a bundle of hay. Last summer, for the
+first time, I found the purple polygala growing in
+a meadowy piece of turf on the south side of the
+island. Columbines and the fragrant ground-nut,
+helianthus, and various other plants, grow only on
+Duck Island; and it is singular that the little potentilla,
+which I am told grows elsewhere only on
+mountain-sides, is found here on all the islands.
+At Smutty-nose alone certain plants of the wicked-looking
+henbane (<i>Hyoscyamus niger</i>) flourish, and,
+on Londoner’s only, there spreads at the top of
+the beach a large sea-lungwort (<i>Mertensia maritima</i>).
+At Star the crooked little ways between
+the houses are lined with tall plants of the poisonous
+hemlock (the <i>Conium</i> that made the death-draught
+of Socrates), which flourishes amain, and
+is the only green thing out of the small walled enclosures,
+except the grass and the burdocks; for
+the cows and the children devastate the ground.</p>
+
+<p>Appledore is altogether the most agreeable in
+its aspect of all the islands, being the largest, and
+having a greater variety of surface than the rest.
+Its southern portion is full of interest, from the
+traces of vanished humanity which one beholds at
+every step; for the ground in some places is undermined
+with ancient graves, and the ruined cellars
+of houses wherein men and women lived more<span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</span>
+than a century ago are scattered here and there
+to the number of seventy and more. The men and
+women are dust and ashes; but here are the stones
+they squared and laid; here are the thresholds
+over which so many feet have passed. The pale
+green and lilac and golden lichens have overgrown
+and effaced all traces of their footsteps on the door-stones;
+but here they passed in and out,—old and
+young, little feet of children, heavy tramp of stalwart
+fishermen, lighter tread of women, painful and
+uncertain steps of age. Pleasant it is to think of
+the brown and swarthy fisherman, the father, standing
+on such a threshold, and with the keen glance
+all seafaring men possess sweeping the wide horizon
+for signs of fair or foul weather; or the
+mother, sitting in the sun on the step, nursing
+her baby, perhaps, or mending a net, or spinning,—for
+the women here were famous spinners, and
+on Star Island yet are women who have not forgotten
+the art. Pleasanter still to think of some
+slender girl at twilight lingering with reluctant
+feet, and wistful eyes that search the dusky sea for
+a returning sail whose glimmer is sweeter than
+moonlight or starlight to her sight,—lingering
+still, though her mother calls within and the dew
+falls with the falling night. I love to people these
+solitudes again, and think that those who lived<span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</span>
+here centuries ago were decent, God-fearing folk,
+most of them,—for so tradition says;<a id="FNanchor_1" href="#Footnote_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a> though
+in later years they fell into evil ways, and drank
+“fire-water,” and came to grief. And all the pictures
+over which I dream are set in this framework
+of the sea, that sparkled and sang, or frowned and
+threatened, in the ages that are gone as it does
+to-day, and will continue to smile and threaten
+when we who listen to it and love it and fear it
+now are dust and ashes in our turn.</p>
+
+<div class="footnote">
+
+<p><a id="Footnote_1" href="#FNanchor_1" class="label">[A]</a> “The character and habits of the original settlers for industry,
+intelligence, and pure morals have acquired for them
+great respect in the estimation of posterity.”—<i>Williamson’s
+History of Maine.</i></p>
+
+</div>
+
+<p>Some of the cellars are double, as if two families
+had built together; some are distinctly marked;
+in others the stones have partly fallen in; all are
+more or less overgrown with lichens, and thick,
+short turf creeps everywhere in and about them.
+Sometimes garlands of woodbine drape the
+walls, and poison-ivy clasps and knots itself about
+the rocks; clumps of sweet flowering-elder cluster
+in the corners, or graceful, stag-horned sumachs,
+or raspberry bushes with ruddy fruit. Wild
+spiked thistles spread, and tall mullein-stalks
+stand like sentinels on guard over the desolation.
+Beautiful it is to see the delicate herb-robert’s rosy<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</span>
+flowers among the rough heaps of rocks, like a
+tender afterthought where all is hard and stern.</p>
+
+<p>It is a part of the religious belief of the Shoalers,
+that the ruinous cairn on the summit of Appledore
+was built by the famous John Smith and
+his men when they discovered the islands in the
+year 1614; and I will not be so heretical as to
+doubt the fact, though it seems just as likely that
+it was set up by fishermen and sailors as a landmark.
+At any rate, nobody knows when it was
+not there, and it is perfectly safe to imagine any
+origin for it. I never could be precisely certain
+of the site of the first meeting-house on this island,
+“built (of brick) at a very early period, possibly
+the first in the province,” says Williamson in
+his “History of Maine.” Probably there was no
+cellar beneath it, and the slight underpinning has
+been scattered and obliterated by time,—a fate
+which many of the houses must have shared in like
+manner. When man has vanished, Nature strives
+to restore her original order of things, and she
+smooths away gradually all traces of his work with
+the broad hands of her changing seasons. The
+men who built the Pyramids felt this; but will not
+the world spin long enough to level their masonry
+with the desolate sands? Neither is there any
+sign of the foundation of that “Academy” to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</span>
+which “even gentlemen from some of the principal
+towns on the sea-coast sent their sons for literary
+instruction,”—I quote again from Williamson.
+How like a dream it seems, looking now at
+these deserted rocks, that so much happened here
+in the years that are gone! The connection of
+Spain with these islands always had a great fascination
+for me; it is curious that the brightest and
+gayest of lands, all aglow with sunshine and so
+rich with southern beauty, should be in any way
+linked with this place, so remote and desolate.
+“In 1730, and afterwards, three or four ships used
+to load at the Shoals with winter and spring merchantable
+fish for Bilboa in Spain.” What wondrous
+craft must have navigated these waters,—lazy,
+lumbering old ships, with quaintly carved figure-heads,
+and high-peaked sterns and prows, and
+heavy draperies of weather-beaten sails, picturesque
+and charming to behold, and well enough
+for the sparkling Mediterranean, but not the sort
+of build to battle with the Atlantic breakers, as
+several wrecks of vessels caught in the terrible
+gales and driven upon the pitiless ledges might
+testify! The ship Sagunto, it is said, met her destruction
+here as late as the year 1813; and there
+are faint echoes of other disasters of the kind, but
+the names of other ships have not come down to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</span>
+us. One wrecked on Appledore left only a quantity
+of broad silver pieces sprinkled about the
+rocks to tell of the calamity. A fisherman from
+Star, paddling over in his dory to explore the coves
+and chasms for driftwood (for the island was uninhabited
+at the time), came suddenly upon the
+glittering coins. His amazement was boundless.
+After filling his pockets, a sudden terror possessed
+him; he began to have a suspicion that something
+uncanny lurked at the bottom of such good fortune
+(for the superstition of the natives is very
+great), and fled home to tell his neighbors, who
+came in a body and made short work of the process
+of gathering the rest of the treasure. Occasionally,
+since that time, coins have been found about
+the southeast point, whereon the unknown vessel
+struck and was completely destroyed. Of course
+Captain Kidd, “as he sailed,” is supposed to have
+made the locality one of his many hiding-places.
+I remember being awed when a child at the story
+of how a certain old black Dinah, an inhabitant
+of Portsmouth, came out to Appledore, then entirely
+divested of human abodes, and alone, with
+only a divining-rod for company, passed several
+days and nights wandering over the island, muttering
+to herself, with her divining-rod carefully
+balanced in her skinny hands. Robert Kidd’s<span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</span>
+buried treasure, if it existed, never signalled from
+below to that mystic rod, and the old negress returned
+empty-handed; but what a picture she
+must have made wandering there in the loneliness,
+by sunlight, or moonlight, or starlight, with her
+weird figure, her dark face, her garments fluttering
+in the wind, and the awful rod in her hand!</p>
+
+<p>On Star Island, I have been told, a little three-legged
+black pot full of gold and silver pieces was
+dug up not very many years ago; and it is certainly
+true that Mr. Samuel Haley, who lived upon
+and owned Smutty-nose, in building a wall, turned
+over a large, flat stone beneath which lay four bars
+of solid silver. He must have been a fine, energetic
+old fellow, that Samuel Haley. With this
+treasure, says tradition again, he built, at great
+trouble and expense, the sea-wall which connects
+Smutty-nose with Malaga, and makes a safe harbor
+for distressed mariners in stormy weather.
+(This name Malaga, by the way, is a very distinct
+token of the Spaniards.) Not only did Haley
+build the sea-wall, but he erected salt-works which
+“manufactured excellent salt for the curing of
+fish,” and stretched a ropewalk over the uneven
+ground to the extent of two hundred and seventy
+feet, and set up windmills to catch with their
+wide wings all the winds that blew, that he might<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</span>
+grind his own corn and wheat, and live as independently
+as possible of his fellow-men; for that is one
+of the first things a settler on the Isles of Shoals
+finds it necessary to learn. He planted a little
+orchard where the soil was deepest, and with much
+cherishing care contrived to coax his cherry-trees
+into abundant fruitfulness, and in every way made
+the most of the few advantages of the place. The
+old square house which he built upon his island,
+and which still stands, had, long ago, a broad
+balcony running the whole length of the house
+beneath the second-story windows. This being in
+a ruinous condition, I never dared venture out
+upon it; but a large, square lookout, with a stout
+railing, which he built on the top of the house,
+remained till within a few years; and I found it a
+charming place to linger in on still days, and watch
+the sky and the sea and the vessels, and the play
+of color over the bright face of the world. Looking
+from that airy station years ago, I used to think
+how many times he had sat there with his spy-glass,
+scanning the horizon and all within it, while
+the wind ruffled his gray hair and the sun shone
+pleasantly across his calm old face. Many years
+of his useful, happy life he lived there, and left
+behind him a beloved and honorable name. His
+descendants, still living upon Star, are among the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</span>
+best people in the village. A young girl bearing
+his name was lately married to one of the
+youthful fishermen. Star Island might well be
+proud of such a girl, so modest and sweet, and
+pretty too, slender and straight, dark-haired,
+brown-eyed,—as picturesque a creature as one
+would wish to see, with a delicate rose in her
+cheek and a clear light of intelligence in her eyes.
+Considering her, and remembering this ancient
+ancestor of hers, I thought she came honestly by
+her gentle, self-reliant expression, and her fine
+bearing, full of unconscious dignity and grace.
+The old man’s quaint epitaph speaks of his humanity
+in “receiving into his enclosure many a
+poor, distressed seaman and fisherman in distress
+of weather.” “In distress of weather!” One must
+live in such a place fully to comprehend the meaning
+of the words. It was his custom every night
+to put in his bedroom window, over the broad
+balcony facing the southeast, a light which
+burned all night,—a little act of thoughtfulness
+which speaks volumes. I think the lighthouse
+could not have been kindled at that time, but I am
+not sure. There is much uncertainty with regard
+to dates and records of those old times. Mr.
+Haley is said to have died in 1811, but I have
+always heard that he was living when the Sagunto<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</span>
+was wrecked upon his island, which happened,
+according to the Gosport records, in 1813. This
+is the entry: “Ship Sagunto stranded on Smotinose
+Isle Jany 14<sup>th</sup> 1813 Jany 15<sup>th</sup> one man
+found, Jany 16<sup>th</sup> 6 men found 21—7 the Number
+of men yet found Belonging to said ship
+twelve.” I am inclined to think the writer made
+a mistake in his date as well as his spelling and
+arithmetic, for it is an accepted tradition that Mr.
+Haley found and buried the dead crew of that
+ship, and I have always heard it spoken of as a
+simple fact. On that stormy January night, runs
+the story, he placed the light as usual in his
+chamber window, and I dare say prayed in his
+good heart that no vessel might be wandering near
+this dangerous place, tossed helpless on the raging
+sea in the thick darkness and bitter cold and blinding
+snow. But that night the great ship Sagunto
+drove, crashing, full upon the fatal southeast point,
+in sight of the tiny spark that burned peacefully,
+unwavering, in that quiet chamber. Her costly
+timbers of mahogany and cedar-wood were splintered
+on the sharp teeth of those inexorable rocks;
+her cargo of dried fruits and nuts and bales of
+broadcloth and gold and silver, was tossed about
+the shore, and part of her crew were thrown alive
+upon it. Some of them saw the light, and crawled<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</span>
+toward it benumbed with cold and spent with
+fatigue and terror. The roaring of the storm
+bore away their faint cries of distress; the old
+man slept on quietly, with his family about him,
+sheltered, safe; while a stone’s-throw from his
+door these sailors strove and agonized to reach
+that friendly light. Two of them gained the stone-wall
+in front of the house, but their ebbing strength
+would not allow them to climb over; they threw
+themselves upon it, and perished miserably, with
+safety, warmth, and comfort so close at hand! In
+the morning, when the tumult was somewhat
+hushed, and underneath the sullen sky rolled the
+more sullen sea in long, deliberate waves, the old
+man looked out in the early light across the waste
+of snow, and on the wall lay—something that
+broke the familiar outline, though all was smooth
+with the pure, soft snow. He must put on coat
+and cap, and go and find out what this strange
+thing might be. Ah, that was a sight for his pitying
+eyes under the cold and leaden light of that
+unrelenting morning! He summoned his sons
+and his men. Quickly the alarm was given, and
+there was confusion and excitement as the islanders,
+hurriedly gathering, tried if it were possible
+yet to save some life amid the wreck. But it was
+too late; every soul was lost. Fourteen bodies<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</span>
+were found at that time, strewn all the way between
+the wall and that southeast point where the
+vessel had gone to pieces. The following summer
+the skeleton of another was discovered among
+some bushes near the shore. The imagination
+lingers over those poor drowned sailors; strives
+to figure what each man was like, what might
+have been the musical name of each (for all names
+in Spanish should be musical, with a reminiscence
+of flute and guitar in them); dwells on the dark-olive
+faces and jet-black hair, the graceful foreign
+dress,—curious short jackets, perhaps, with bits
+of bright embroidery that loving hands had
+worked for them, all stained and tarnished by the
+brine. No doubt some of them wore about their
+necks a cross or amulet, with an image of the
+“Blessed Virgin” or the “Son of God,” that so
+they might be saved from just such a fate as
+this; and maybe some one among these sailor-men
+carried against his heart a lock of hair, dark and
+lustrous before the washing of the cold waves
+dulled the brightness of its beauty. Fourteen
+shallow graves were quarried for the unknown
+dead in the iron earth, and there they lie, with
+him who buried them a little above in the same
+grassy slope. Here is his epitaph:—</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</span></p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“In memory of Mr. Samuel Haley<br>
+Who died in the year 1811<br>
+Aged 84<br>
+He was a man of great Ingenuity<br>
+Industry Honor and Honesty, true to his<br>
+Country &amp; A man who did A great<br>
+Publik good in Building A<br>
+Dock &amp; Receiving into his<br>
+Enclosure many a poor<br>
+Distressed Seaman &amp; Fisherman<br>
+In distress of Weather.”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>A few steps from their resting-place the low wall
+on which the two unfortunates were found frozen
+is falling into ruin. The glossy green leaves of
+the bayberry-bushes crowd here and there about
+it, in odorous ranks on either side, and sweetly
+the warm blush of the wild-rose glows against its
+cool gray stones. Leaning upon it in summer
+afternoons, when the wind is quiet and there steals
+up a fragrance and fresh murmur from the incoming
+tide, when the slowly mellowing light lies tranquil
+over the placid sea, enriching everything it
+touches with infinite beauty,—waves and rocks
+that kill and destroy, blossoming roses and lonely
+graves,—a wistful sadness colors all one’s thoughts.
+Afar off the lazy waters sing and smile about that
+white point, shimmering in the brilliant atmosphere.
+How peaceful it is! How innocent and
+unconscious is the whole face of this awful and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</span>
+beautiful nature! But, listening to the blissful
+murmur of the tide, one can but think with what
+another voice that tide spoke when it ground the
+ship to atoms and roared with sullen thunder
+about those dying men.</p>
+
+<p>There is no inscription on the rough boulders at
+the head and foot of these graves. A few more
+years, and all trace of them will be obliterated.
+Already the stones lean this way and that, and
+are half buried in the rank grass. Soon will they
+be entirely forgotten; the old, old world forgets
+so much! And it is sown thick with graves from
+pole to pole.</p>
+
+<p>“These islands bore some of the first footprints
+of New-England Christianity and civilization.
+They were for a long time the abode of intelligence,
+refinement, and virtue, but were afterwards
+abandoned to a state of semi-barbarism.” The
+first intelligence of the place comes to us from
+the year 1614, when John Smith is supposed to
+have discovered them. The next date is of the
+landing of Christopher Leavitt, in 1623. In 1645,
+three brothers, Robert, John, and Richard Cutts,
+emigrated from Wales, and on their way to the
+continent paused at the Isles of Shoals, and, finding
+them so pleasant, made their settlement here.
+Williamson mentions particularly Richard Gibson,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</span>
+from Topsham, England, and various other men
+from England and Wales. Many people speedily
+joined the little colony, which grew yearly more
+prosperous. In 1650, the Rev. John Brock came
+to live among the islanders, and remained with
+them twelve years. All that we hear of this man
+is so fine, he is represented as having been so faithful,
+zealous, intelligent, and humane, that it is no
+wonder the community flourished while he sat at
+the helm. It was said of him, “He dwells as near
+Heaven as any man upon earth.” Cotton Mather
+thus quaintly praises him: “He was a good
+<i>grammarian</i>, chiefly in this, that he still <i>spoke the
+truth from his heart</i>. He was a good <i>logician</i>,
+chiefly in this, that he <i>presented himself unto God
+with a reasonable service</i>. He was a good <i>arithmetician</i>,
+chiefly in this, that he <i>so numbered his
+days as to apply his heart unto wisdom</i>. He was a
+good <i>astronomer</i>, chiefly in this, <i>that his conversation
+was in Heaven</i>.... So much belonged to
+this <i>good man</i>, that so <i>learned a life</i> may well be
+judged worthy of being a <i>written one</i>.” After him
+came a long procession of the clergy, good, bad,
+and indifferent, up to the present time, when
+“divine service,” so-called, has seemed a mere
+burlesque as it has been often carried on in the
+little church at Star.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</span></p>
+
+<p>Last summer I was shown a quaint little book
+entitled “The Fisherman’s Calling. A brief essay
+to Serve the Great Interests of Religion among our
+Fishermen. By Cotton Mather, D. D. Boston in
+New England. Printed: Sold by T. Green. 1712,”
+and I found the following incident connected with
+Mr. Brock’s ministry at the Shoals: “To Illustrate
+and Demonstrate the Providence of God our Saviour
+over the Business of fishermen, I will entertain you
+with Two short Modern Histories.” Then follows
+an account of some Romish priests upon some isles
+belonging to Scotland, who endeavored to draw the
+poor fishermen over to popery. The other is this:
+“When our Mr. Brock lived on the Isles of Shoals,
+he brought the Fishermen into an agreement that
+besides the Lord’s Day they would spend one day
+of every month together in the worship of the
+Glorious Lord. A certain day which by their
+Agreement belonged unto the Exercises of Religion
+being arrived, they came to Mr. Brock, and asked
+him, that they might put by their meeting and go
+a Fishing, because they had Lost many Days by the
+Foulness of the weather. He, seeing that without
+and against his consent they resolved upon doing
+what they asked of him, replied, ‘If you will go
+away I say unto you, ‘Catch Fish if you can!’
+But as for you that will tarry, and worship our Lord<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</span>
+Jesus Christ this day, I will pray unto Him for
+you that you may afterwards take fish till you are
+weary.’ Thirty men went away from the meeting
+and Five tarried. The thirty that went away from
+the meeting with all their Craft could catch but
+four Fishes. The Five which tarried went forth
+afterwards and <i>they</i> took <i>five Hundred</i>. The Fishermen
+were after this Readier to hearken unto the
+Voice of their Teacher.”</p>
+
+<p>If virtue were often its own reward after a fashion
+like this, in what a well-conducted world we
+should live! Doubtless the reckless islanders
+needed the force of all the moral suasion good Mr.
+Brock could bring to bear upon them; too much
+law and order they could not have; but I like better
+this story of the stout old fisherman who in
+church so unexpectedly answered his pastor’s
+thrilling exhortation, “Supposing, my brethren,
+that any of you should be overtaken in the bay
+by a northeast storm, your hearts trembling with
+fear, and nothing but death before, whither would
+your thoughts turn? what would you do?”—with
+the instant inspiration of common-sense, “I’d hoist
+the foresail and scud away for Squam!”</p>
+
+<p>The first church on Star was built principally
+of timbers from the wrecks of Spanish ships, but
+it has been partially burned and rebuilt twice.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</span>
+Various rough characters, given over to hard drinking,
+and consequently lawless living, have joined
+the colony within the last ten years, and made the
+place the scene of continually recurring fires. On
+going down to Appledore one spring I was surprised
+at the daily and nightly jangling of the dull
+bell at Star,—a dissonant sound borne wildly on the
+stormy wind to our dwelling. “What is Star Island
+ringing for?” I kept asking, and was as often
+answered, “O, it’s only Sam Blake setting his house
+on fire!”—the object being to obtain the insurance
+thereupon.</p>
+
+<p>On the Massachusetts records there is a paragraph
+to the effect that, in the year 1653, Philip
+Babb, of Hog Island, was appointed constable for
+all the islands of Shoals, Star Island excepted.
+To Philip Babb we shall have occasion to refer
+again. “In May, 1661,” says Williamson, “being
+places of note and great resort, the General Court
+incorporated the islands into a town called Appledore,
+and invested it with the powers and privileges
+of other towns.” There were then about
+forty families on Hog Island, but between that
+time and the year 1670 these removed to Star Island
+and joined the settlement there. This they
+were induced to do partly through fear of the Indians,
+who frequented Duck Island, and thence<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</span>
+made plundering excursions upon them, carrying
+off their women while they were absent fishing,
+and doing a variety of harm; but, as it is expressly
+stated that people living on the mainland sent
+their children to school at Appledore that they
+might be safe from the Indians, the statement of
+their depredations at the Shoals is perplexing.
+Probably the savages camped on Duck to carry on
+their craft of porpoise-fishing, which to this day
+they still pursue among the islands on the eastern
+coast of Maine. Star Island seemed a place of
+greater safety; and probably the greater advantages
+of landing and the convenience of a wide cove at
+the entrance of the village, with a little harbor
+wherein the fishing-craft might anchor with some
+security, were also inducements. William Pepperell,
+a native of Cornwall, England, emigrated
+to the place in the year 1676, and lived there upwards
+of twenty years, and carried on a large fishery.
+“He was the father of Sir William Pepperell,
+the most famous man Maine ever produced.” For
+more than a century previous to the Revolutionary
+War there were at the Shoals from three to six
+hundred inhabitants, and the little settlement
+flourished steadily. They had their church and
+school-house, and a court-house; and the usual
+municipal officers were annually chosen, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</span>
+town records regularly kept. From three to four
+thousand quintals of fish were yearly caught and
+cured by the islanders; and, beside their trade
+with Spain, large quantities of fish were also carried
+to Portsmouth, for the West India market.
+In 1671 the islands belonged to John Mason and
+Sir Ferdinando Gorges. This man always greatly
+interested me. He must have been a person of
+great force of character, strong, clear-headed, full
+of fire and energy. He was appointed governor-general
+of New England in 1637. Williamson has
+much to say of him: “He and Sir Walter Raleigh,
+whose acquaintance was familiar, possessing minds
+equally elastic and adventurous, turned their
+thoughts at an early period of life towards the
+American hemisphere.” And the historian thus
+goes on lamenting over him: “Fame and wealth,
+so often the idols of superior intellects, were the
+prominent objects of this aspiring man. Constant
+and sincere in his friendships, he might have had
+extensively the estimation of others, had not selfishness
+been the centre of all his efforts. His life
+and name, though by no means free from blemishes,
+have just claims to the grateful recollections
+of the Eastern Americans and their posterity.”</p>
+
+<p>From 1640 to 1775, says a report to the “Society
+for Propagating the Gospel among the Indians<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</span>
+and Others in North America,” the church at the
+Shoals was in a flourishing condition, and had a
+succession of ministers,—Messrs. Hull, Brock,
+Belcher, Moody, Tucke, and Shaw, all of whom
+were good and faithful men; two, Brock and
+Tucke, being men of learning and ability, with
+peculiarities of talent and character admirably
+fitting them for their work on these islands. Tucke
+was the only one who closed his life and ministry
+at the Shoals. He was a graduate of Harvard
+College of the class of 1723, was ordained at the
+Shoals July 20, 1732, and died there August 12,
+1773,—his ministry thus covering more than forty
+years. His salary in 1771 was paid in merchantable
+fish, a quintal to a man, when there were on
+the Shoals from ninety to one hundred men, and
+a quintal of fish was worth a guinea. His grave
+was accidentally discovered in 1800, and the Hon.
+Dudley Atkins Tyng, who interested himself most
+charitably and indefatigably for the good of these
+islands, placed over it a slab of stone, with an inscription
+which still remains to tell of the fine
+qualities of the man whose dust it covers; but
+year by year the raindrops with delicate touches
+wear away the deeply cut letters, for the stone
+lies horizontal; even now they are scarcely legible,
+and soon the words of praise and appreciation<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</span>
+will exist only in the memory of a few of the older
+inhabitants.</p>
+
+<p>At the time of Mr. Tucke’s death the prosperity
+of the Shoals was at its height. But in less
+than thirty years after his death a most woful condition
+of things was inaugurated.</p>
+
+<p>The settlement flourished till the breaking out
+of the war, when it was found to be entirely at
+the mercy of the English, and obliged to furnish
+them with recruits and supplies. The inhabitants
+were therefore ordered by the government to quit
+the islands; and as their trade was probably
+broken up and their property exposed, most of
+them complied with the order, and settled in the
+neighboring seaport towns, where their descendants
+may be found to this day. Some of the people
+settled in Salem, and the Mr. White so mysteriously
+murdered there many years ago was born at
+Appledore. Those who remained, with a few exceptions,
+were among the most ignorant and degraded
+of the people, and they went rapidly down
+into untold depths of misery. “They burned the
+meeting-house, and gave themselves up to quarrelling,
+profanity, and drunkenness, till they became
+almost barbarians”; or, as Mr. Morse expresses it,
+“were given up to work all manner of wickedness
+with greediness.” In no place of the size has<span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</span>
+there been a greater absorption of “rum” since
+the world was made. Mr. Reuben Moody, a theological
+student, lived at the Shoals for a few
+months in the year 1822, and his description of
+the condition of things at that time is frightful.
+He had no place to open a school; one of the islanders
+provided him with a room, fire, etc., giving
+as a reason for his enthusiastic furtherance of Mr.
+Moody’s plans, that his children made such a disturbance
+at home that he couldn’t sleep in the
+daytime. An extract from Mr. Moody’s journal
+affords an idea of the morals of the inhabitants at
+this period:—</p>
+
+<p>“May 1<sup>st</sup>. I yet continue to witness the Heaven-daring
+impieties of this people. Yesterday my
+heart was shocked at seeing a man about seventy
+years of age, as devoid of reason as a maniac, giving
+way to his passions; striving to express himself
+in more blasphemous language than he had
+the ability to utter; and, being unable to express
+the malice of his heart in words, he would <i>run at</i>
+every one he saw. All was tumult and confusion,—men
+and women with tar-brushes, clenched fists,
+and stones; one female who had an infant but
+eight days old, with a stone in her hand and an
+oath on her tongue, threatened to dash out the
+brains of her antagonists.... After I arrived<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</span>
+among them some of them dispersed, some led
+their wives into the house, others drove them off,
+and a calm succeeded.”</p>
+
+<p>In another part of the journal is an account of
+an old man who lived alone and drank forty gallons
+of rum in twelve months,—some horrible old Caliban,
+no doubt. This hideous madness of drunkenness
+was the great trouble at the Shoals; and though
+time has modified, it has not eliminated the apparently
+hereditary bane whose antidote is not yet
+discovered. The misuse of strong drink still proves
+a whirlpool more awful than the worst terrors
+of the pitiless ocean that hems the islanders in.</p>
+
+<p>As may be seen from Mr. Moody’s journal, the
+clergy had a hard time of it among the heathen
+at the Isles of Shoals; but they persevered, and
+many brave women at different times have gone
+among the people to teach the school and reclaim
+the little children from wretchedness and ignorance.
+Miss Peabody, of Newburyport, who came
+to live with them in 1823, did wonders for them
+during the three years of her stay. She taught
+the school, visited the families, and on Sundays
+read to such audiences as she could collect, took
+seven of the poorer female children to live with
+her at the parsonage, instructed all who would
+learn in the arts of carding, spinning, weaving,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</span>
+knitting, sewing, braiding mats, etc. Truly she
+remembered what “Satan finds for idle hands to
+do,” and kept all her charges busy and consequently
+happy. All honor to her memory! she
+was a wise and faithful servant. There is still an
+affectionate remembrance of her among the present
+inhabitants, whose mothers she helped out of
+their degradation into a better life. I saw in one
+of the houses, not long ago, a sampler blackened
+by age, but carefully preserved in a frame; and
+was told that the dead grandmother of the family
+had made it when a little girl, under Miss Peabody’s
+supervision. In 1835 the Rev. Origen
+Smith went to live at Star, and remained perhaps
+ten years, doing much good among the people.
+He nearly succeeded in banishing the great demoralizer,
+liquor, and restored law and order. He
+is reverently remembered by the islanders. In
+1855 an excellent man by the name of Mason occupied
+the post of minister for the islanders, and
+from his report to the “Society for Propagating
+the Gospel among the Indians and Others in
+North America” I make a few extracts. He
+says: “The kind of business which the people
+pursue, and by which they subsist, affects unfavorably
+their habits, physical, social, and religious.
+Family discipline is neglected, domestic arrangements<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</span>
+very imperfect, much time, apparently
+wasted, is spent in watching for favorable indications
+to pursue their calling.... A bad moral
+influence is excited by a portion of the transient
+visitors to the Shoals during the summer months.”
+This is very true. He speaks of the people’s appreciation
+of the efforts made in their behalf; and
+says that they raised subscriptions among themselves
+for lighting the parsonage, and for fuel for
+the singing-school (which, by the way, was a most
+excellent institution), and mentions their surprising
+him by putting into the back kitchen of the parsonage
+a barrel of fine flour, a bucket of sugar, a
+leg of bacon, etc. “Their deep poverty abounded
+unto the riches of their liberality,” he says; and
+this little act shows that they were far from being
+indifferent or ungrateful. They were really attached
+to Mr. Mason, and it is a pity he could not
+have remained with them.</p>
+
+<p>Within the last few years they have been trying
+bravely to help themselves, and they persevere
+with their annual fair to obtain money to pay the
+teacher who saves their little children from utter
+ignorance; and many of them show a growing
+ambition in fitting up their houses and making
+their families more comfortable. Of late, the fires
+before referred to, kindled in drunken madness by<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</span>
+the islanders themselves, or by the reckless few
+who have joined the settlement, have swept away
+nearly all the old houses, which have been replaced
+by smart new buildings, painted white,
+with green blinds, and with modern improvements,
+so that yearly the village grows less picturesque,—which
+is a charm one can afford to lose, when the
+external smartness is indicative of better living
+among the people. Twenty years ago Star Island
+Cove was charming, with its tumble-down fish-houses,
+and ancient cottages with low, shelving
+roofs, and porches covered with the golden lichen
+that so loves to embroider old weather-worn wood.
+Now there is not a vestige of those dilapidated
+buildings to be seen; almost everything is white
+and square and new; and they have even cleaned
+out the cove, and removed the great accumulation
+of fish-bones which made the beach so curious.</p>
+
+<p>The old town records are quaint and interesting,
+and the spelling and modes of expression so
+peculiar that I have copied a few. Mr. John
+Muchamore was the moderator of a meeting called
+“March ye 7th day, 1748. By a Legall town
+meeting of ye Free holders and Inhabitence of
+gosport, dewly quallefide to vote for Tiding men
+Collers of fish, Corders of wood. Addition to ye
+minister’s sallery Mr John Tucke, 100 lbs old
+tenor.”</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</span></p>
+
+<p>In 1755, it was “Agred in town meating that
+if any person shall spelth [split] any fish above hie
+water marck and leave their heads and son bones
+[sound-bones] their, shall pay ten lbs new tenor to
+the town, and any that is above now their, they
+that have them their, shall have them below hie
+warter in fortinets time or pay the same.” In
+another place “it is agreed at ton meating evry
+person that is are kow [has a cow] shall carry
+them of at 15 day of may, keep them their til
+the 15 day of October or pay 20 shillings lawful
+money.” And “if any person that have any hogs,
+If they do any damg, hom [whom] they do the
+damg to shall keep the hog for sattisfaxeon.”</p>
+
+<p>The cows seem to have given a great deal of
+trouble. Here is one more extract on the subject:—</p>
+
+<p>“This is a Leagel vot by the ton meeting, that
+if any presson or pressons shall leave their Cowks
+out after the fifteenth day of May and they do
+any Dameg, they shall be taken up and the owner
+of the kow shall pay teen shillings old tenor to
+the kow constabel and one half he shall have and
+the other shall give to the pour of the place.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span class="smcap"><span style="margin-left: 6em;">“Mr Dainel Randel</span></span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">“<i>Kow Constabel</i>.”</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</span></p>
+
+<p>“On March 11<sup>th</sup> 1762. A genarel free Voot
+past amongst the inhabents that every fall of the
+year when Mr Rev<sup>d.</sup> John Tucke has his wood to
+Carry home evary men will not com that is abel
+to com shall pay forty shillings ould tenor.”</p>
+
+<p>But the most delightfully preposterous entry is
+this:—</p>
+
+<p>“March 12<sup>th</sup> 1769. A genarel free voot past
+amongst the inhabents to cus [cause] tow men to
+go to the Rev<sup>d</sup> Mr John Tucke to hear wether he
+was willing to take one Quental of fish each man,
+or to take the price of Quental in ould tenor
+which he answered this that he thought it was
+easer to pay the fish than the money which he
+consented to taik the fish for the year insuing.”</p>
+
+<p>“On March ye 25 1771. ”then their was a
+meating called and it was <i>gurned</i> until the 23<sup>rd</sup>
+day of apirel.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span class="smcap"><span style="margin-left: 6em;">“Mr Deeken Willam Muchmore</span></span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 9em;">“<i>Moderator</i>.”</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p>Among the “offorsers” of “Gospored” were,
+besides “Moderator” and “Town Clarke,” “Seelekt
+meen,” “Counstauble,” “Tidon meen” (Tithing-men),
+“Coulears of fish,”—“Coulear” meaning,
+I suppose, culler, or person appointed to
+select fish,—and “Sealers of Whood,” oftener
+expressed corders of wood.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</span></p>
+
+<p>In 1845 we read that Asa Caswell was chosen
+highway “sovair.”</p>
+
+<p>Very ancient tradition says that the method of
+courtship at the Isles of Shoals was after this
+fashion: If a youth fell in love with a maid, he
+lay in wait till she passed by, and then pelted
+her with stones, after the manner of our friends
+of Marblehead; so that if a fair Shoaler found herself
+the centre of a volley of missiles, she might
+be sure that an ardent admirer was expressing
+himself with decision certainly, if not with tact!
+If she turned, and exhibited any curiosity as to the
+point of the compass whence the bombardment
+proceeded, her doubts were dispelled by another
+shower; but if she went on her way in maiden
+meditation, then was her swain in despair, and life,
+as is usual in such cases, became a burden to him.</p>
+
+<p>Within my remembrance an occasional cabbage-party
+made an agreeable variety in the life
+of the villagers. I never saw one, but have heard
+them described. Instead of regaling the guests
+with wine and ices, pork and cabbage were the
+principal refreshments offered them; and if the
+cabbage came out of the garden of a neighbor,
+the spice of wickedness lent zest to the entertainment,—stolen
+fruit being always the sweetest.</p>
+
+<p>It would seem strange that, while they live in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</span>
+so healthy a place, where the atmosphere is absolutely
+perfect in its purity, they should have suffered
+so much from ill health, and that so many
+should have died of consumption,—the very disease
+for the cure of which physicians send invalids
+hither. The reasons are soon told. The first
+and most important is this: that, as nearly as they
+could, they have in past years hermetically sealed
+their houses, so that the air of heaven should not
+penetrate within. An open window, especially at
+night, they would have looked upon as madness,—a
+temptation of Providence; and during the winter
+they have deliberately poisoned themselves with
+every breath, like two thirds of the rest of the
+world. I have seen a little room containing a
+whole family, fishing-boots and all, bed, furniture,
+cooking-stove in full blast, and an oil lamp with a
+wick so high that the deadly smoke rose steadily,
+filling the air with what Browning might call
+“filthiest gloom,” and mingling with the incense
+of ancient tobacco-pipes smoked by both sexes
+(for nearly all the old women used to smoke);
+every crack and cranny was stopped; and if, by
+any chance, the door opened for an instant, out
+rushed a fume in comparison with which the gusts
+from the lake of Tartarus might be imagined
+sweet. Shut in that deadly air, a part of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</span>
+family slept, sometimes all. What wonder that
+their chests were hollow, their faces haggard, and
+that apathy settled upon them! Then their food
+was hardly selected with reference to health, saleratus
+and pork forming two of the principal ingredients
+in their daily fare. Within a few years
+past they have probably improved in these respects.
+Fifteen years ago I was passing a window
+one morning, at which a little child two years old
+was sitting, tied into a high chair before a table
+drawn close to the window, eating his breakfast
+alone in his glory. In his stout little fist he
+grasped a large iron spoon, and fed himself from
+a plate of beans swimming in fat, and with the
+pork cut up in squares for his better convenience.
+By the side of the plate stood a tin mug of bitter-strong
+black coffee sweetened with molasses. I
+spoke to his mother within; “Ar’n’t you afraid
+such strong coffee will kill your baby?” “O no,”
+she answered, and held it to his lips. “There,
+drink that,” she said, “that’ll make you hold
+your head up!” The poor child died before he
+grew to be a man, and all the family have fallen
+victims to consumption.</p>
+
+<p>Very few of the old people are left at the present
+time, and the village is very like other fishing-villages
+along the coast. Most of the peculiar<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</span>
+characteristics of the race are lost in the present
+generation of young women, who are addicted to
+the use of hoops and water-falls, and young men,
+who condescend to spoil their good looks by dyeing
+their handsome blond beards with the fashionable
+mixture which inevitably produces a lustre like
+stove-blacking. But there are sensible fellows
+among them, fine specimens of the hardy New
+England fisherman, Saxon-bearded, broad-shouldered,
+deep-chested, and bronzed with shade on
+shade of ruddy brown. The neutral blues and
+grays of the salt-water make perfect backgrounds
+for the pictures these men are continually showing
+one in their life about the boats. Nothing can be
+more satisfactory than the blendings and contrasts
+of color and the picturesque effect of the general
+aspect of the natives in their element. The eye
+is often struck with the richness of the color
+of some rough hand, glowing with mingled red,
+brown, and orange, against the gray-blue water,
+as it grasps an oar, perhaps, or pulls in a rope. It
+is strange that the sun and wind, which give such
+fine tints to the complexions of the lords of creation,
+should leave such hideous traces on the faces
+of women. When they are exposed to the same
+salt wind and clear sunshine they take the hue
+of dried fish, and become objects for men and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</span>
+angels to weep over. To see a <i>bona fide</i> Shoaler
+“sail a boat” (when the craft is a real boat and
+no tub) is an experience. The vessel obeys his
+hand at the rudder as a trained horse a touch on
+the rein, and seems to bow at the flash of his
+eye, turning on her heel and running up into the
+wind, “luffing” to lean again on the other tack,—obedient,
+graceful, perfectly beautiful, yielding to
+breeze and to billow, yet swayed throughout by a
+stronger and more imperative law. The men become
+strongly attached to their boats, which seem
+to have a sort of human interest for them,—and
+no wonder. They lead a life of the greatest hardship
+and exposure, during the winter especially,
+setting their trawls fifteen or twenty miles to the
+eastward of the islands, drawing them next day if
+the stormy winds and waves will permit, and taking
+the fish to Portsmouth to sell. It is desperately
+hard work, trawling at this season, with the
+bitter wind blowing in their teeth, and the flying
+spray freezing upon everything it touches,—boats,
+masts, sails, decks, clothes completely cased
+in ice, and fish frozen solid as soon as taken from
+the water. The inborn politeness of these fishermen
+to stranger-women is something delightful to
+witness. I remember once landing in Portsmouth,
+and being obliged to cross three or four schooners<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</span>
+just in (with their freight of frozen fish lying
+open-mouthed in a solid mass on deck) to reach
+the wharf. No courtly gentlemen could have displayed
+more beautiful behavior than did these
+rough fellows, all pressing forward, with real grace,—because
+the feeling which prompted them was a
+true and lofty feeling,—to help me over the tangle
+of ropes and sails and anchors to a safe footing on
+shore. There is a ledge forty-five miles east of
+the islands, called Jeffrey’s Ledge, where the
+Shoalers go for spring fishing. During a northeast
+storm in May, part of the little fleet came
+reeling in before the gale; and, not daring to
+trust themselves to beat up into the harbor (a
+poor shelter at best), round the rocky reefs and
+ledges, the fishermen anchored under the lee of
+Appledore, and there rode out the storm. They
+were in continual peril; for, had their cables
+chafed apart with the shock and strain of the billows
+among which they plunged, or had their
+anchors dragged (which might have been expected,
+the bottom of the sea between the islands and
+the mainland being composed of mud, while all
+outside is rough and rocky), they would have inevitably
+been driven to their destruction on the
+opposite coast. It was not pleasant to watch
+them as the early twilight shut down over the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</span>
+vast, weltering desolation of the sea, to see the
+slender masts waving helplessly from one side to
+another,—sometimes almost horizontal, as the
+hulls turned heavily this way and that, and the
+long breakers rolled in endless succession against
+them. They saw the lights in our windows a half-mile
+away; and we, in the warm, bright, quiet room,
+sitting by a fire that danced and shone, fed with
+bits of wreck such as they might scatter on Rye
+Beach before morning, could hardly think of anything
+else than the misery of those poor fellows,
+wet, cold, hungry, sleepless, full of anxiety till
+the morning should break and the wind should
+lull. No boat could reach them through the terrible
+commotion of waves. But they rode through
+the night in safety, and the morning brought relief.
+One brave little schooner “toughed it out”
+on the distant ledge, and her captain told me that
+no one could stand on board of her; the pressure
+of the wind down on her decks was so great that
+she shuddered from stem to stern, and he feared
+she would shake to pieces, for she was old and not
+very seaworthy. Some of the men had wives and
+children watching them from lighted windows at
+Star. What a fearful night for them! They could
+not tell from hour to hour, through the thick
+darkness, if yet the cables held; they could not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</span>
+see till daybreak whether the sea had swallowed
+up their treasures. I wonder the wives were not
+white-haired when the sun rose, and showed them
+those little specks yet rolling in the breakers!
+The women are excessively timid about the water,
+more so than landswomen. Having the terror and
+might of the ocean continually encircling them,
+they become more impressed with it and distrust
+it, knowing it so well. Very few accidents happen,
+however: the islanders are a cautious people. Years
+ago, when the white sails of their little fleet of
+whale-boats used to flutter out of the sheltered
+bight and stand out to the fishing-grounds in the
+bay, how many eyes followed them in the early
+light, and watched them in the distance through
+the day, till, toward sunset, they spread their wings
+to fly back with the evening wind! How pathetic
+the gathering of women on the headlands, when
+out of the sky swept the squall that sent the
+small boats staggering before it, and blinded the
+eyes, already drowned in tears, with sudden rain
+that hid sky and sea and boats from their eager
+gaze! What wringing of hands, what despairing
+cries, which the wild wind bore away while it
+caught and fluttered the homely draperies and
+unfastened the locks of maid and mother, to blow
+them about their pale faces and anxious eyes!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</span>
+Now no longer the little fleet goes forth; for the
+greater part of the islanders have stout schooners,
+and go trawling with profit, if not with pleasure.
+A few solitaries fish in small dories and earn a
+slender livelihood thereby.</p>
+
+<p>The sea helps these poor people by bringing
+fuel to their very doors; the waves continually
+deposit driftwood in every fissure of the rocks.
+But sad, anxious lives they have led, especially
+the women, many of whom have grown old before
+their time with hard work and bitter cares, with
+hewing of wood and drawing of water, turning of
+fish on the flakes to dry in the sun, endless household
+work, and the cares of maternity, while their
+lords lounged about the rocks in their scarlet
+shirts in the sun, or “held up the walls of the
+meeting-house,” as one expressed it, with their
+brawny shoulders. I never saw such wrecks of
+humanity as some of the old women of Star
+Island, who have long since gone to their rest. In
+my childhood I caught glimpses of them occasionally,
+their lean brown shapes crouching over
+the fire, with black pipes in their sunken mouths,
+and hollow eyes, “of no use now but to gather
+brine,” and rough, gray, straggling locks: despoiled
+and hopeless visions, it seemed as if youth and joy
+would never have been theirs.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</span></p>
+
+
+<p class="center">A WOMAN OF STAR ISLAND.</p>
+
+<p class="center"><span class="smcap">Isles of Shoals</span>, 1844.</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Over the embers she sits,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Close at the edge of the grave,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">With her hollow eyes like pits,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And her mouth like a sunken cave.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Her short black pipe held tight</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Her withered lips between,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">She rocks in the flickering light</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Her figure bent and lean.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">She turns the fish no more</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That dry on the flakes in the sun;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">No wood she drags to the door,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Nor water,—her labor is done.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">She cares not for oath or blow,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">She is past all hope or fear;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There is nothing she cares to know,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">There is nothing hateful or dear.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Deep wrong have the bitter years</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Wrought her, both body and soul.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Life has been seasoned with tears;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">But saw not God the whole?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">O wreck in woman’s shape!</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Were you ever gracious and sweet?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Did youth’s enchantment drape</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">This horror, from head to feet?</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Have dewy eyes looked out</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">From these hollow pits forlorn?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Played smiles the mouth about</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Of shy, still rapture born?</div><span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</span>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Yea, once. But long ago</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Has evil ground away</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">All beauty. The salt winds blow</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">On no sorrier sight to-day.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">Trodden utterly out</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Is every spark of hope.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">There is only left her, a doubt,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">A gesture, half-conscious, a grope</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">In the awful dark for a Touch</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">That never yet failed a soul.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Is not God tender to such?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Hath he not seen the whole?</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The local pronunciation of the Shoalers is very
+peculiar, and a shrewd sense of humor is one of
+their leading characteristics. Could De Quincey
+have lived among them, I think he might have
+been tempted to write an essay on swearing as a
+fine art, for it has reached a pitch hardly short of
+sublimity in this favored spot. They seemed to
+have a genius for it, and some of them really
+devoted their best powers to its cultivation. The
+language was taxed to furnish them with prodigious
+forms of speech wherewith to express the slightest
+emotion of pain, anger, or amusement; and though
+the blood of the listener was sometimes chilled in
+his veins, overhearing their unhesitating profanity,
+the prevailing sentiment was likely to be one of
+amazement mingled with intense amusement,—the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</span>
+whole thing was so grotesque and monstrous,
+and their choice of words so comical, and generally
+so very much to the point.</p>
+
+<p>The real Shoals phraseology existing in past
+years was something not to be described; it is
+impossible by any process known to science to
+convey an idea of the intonations of their speech,
+quite different from Yankee drawl or sailor-talk,
+and perfectly unique in itself. Why they should
+have called a swallow a “swallick” and a sparrow
+a “sparrick” I never could understand; or what
+they mean by calling a great gale or tempest a
+“Tan toaster.” Anything that ends in <i>y</i> or <i>e</i> they
+still pronounce <i>ay</i> with great breadth; for instance,
+“Benny” is Bennaye; “Billy” Billay, and so on.
+A man by the name of Beebe, the modern “missionary,”
+was always spoken of as Beebay, when
+he was not called by a less respectful title. Their
+sense of fun showed itself in the nicknames with
+which they designated any person possessing the
+slightest peculiarity. For instance, twenty years
+ago a minister of the Methodist persuasion came
+to live among them; his wife was unreasonably
+tall and thin. With the utmost promptitude and
+decision the irreverent christened her “Legs,” and
+never spoke of her by any other name. “Laigs
+has gone to Portsmouth,” or “Laigs has got a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</span>
+new gown,” etc. A spinster of very dark complexion
+was called “Scip,” an abbreviation of
+Scipio, a name supposed to appertain particularly
+to the colored race. Another was called “Squint,”
+because of a defect in the power of vision; and
+not only were they spoken of by these names,
+but called so to their faces habitually. One man
+earned for himself the title of “Brag,” so that
+no one ever thought of calling him by his real
+name; his wife was Mrs. Brag; and constant use
+so robbed these names of their offensiveness that
+the bearers not only heard them with equanimity,
+but would hardly have known themselves by their
+true ones. A most worthy Norwegian took up his
+abode for a brief space among them a few years
+ago. His name was Ingebertsen. Now, to expect
+any Shoaler would trouble himself to utter such
+a name as that was beyond all reason. At once
+they called him “Carpenter,” apropos of nothing
+at all, for he never had been a carpenter. But
+the name was the first that occurred to them, and
+sufficiently easy of utterance. It was “Carpenter,”
+and “Mis’ Carpenter,” and “them Carpenter
+children,” and the name still clings to fine old
+Ingebertsen and his family. Grandparents are
+addressed as Grans and Gwammaye, Grans being
+an abbreviation of grandsire. “Tell yer grans<span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</span>
+his dinner’s ready,” calls some woman from a cottage
+door. One old man, too lazy almost to live,
+was called “Hing”; one of two brothers “Bunker,”
+the other “Shothead”; an ancient scold was called
+“Zeke,” another “Sir Polly,” and so on indefinitely.
+In pleasant weather sometimes the younger
+women would paddle from one island to another
+“making calls.” If any old “Grans” perceived
+them, loafing at his door in the sun, “It’s going
+to storm! the women begin to flit!” he would
+cry, as if they were a flock of coots. A woman,
+describing how slightly her house was put together,
+said, “Lor’, ’twan’t never built, ’twas only hove together.”
+“I don’ know whe’r or no it’s best or no
+to go fishin’ whiles mornin’,” says some rough fellow,
+meditating upon the state of winds and waters.
+Of his boat another says with pride, “<i>She’s</i> a
+pretty piece of wood!” and another, “She strikes
+a sea and comes down like a pillow,” describing
+her smooth sailing. Some one, relating the way
+the civil authorities used to take political matters
+into their own hands, said that “if a man didn’t
+vote as they wanted him to, they took him and
+hove him up agin the meetin’ us,” by way of bringing
+him to his senses. Two boys in bitter contention
+have been heard calling each other “nasty-faced
+chowderheads,” as if the force of language<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</span>
+could no further go. “I’m dryer than a graven
+image,” a man says when he is thirsty. But it is
+impossible to give an idea of their common speech
+leaving out the profanity which makes it so startling.</p>
+
+<p>Some comical stories are told of the behavior of
+officers of the law in certain emergencies. On
+one occasion two men attacked each other in the
+cove which served as the Plaza, the grand square
+of the village, the general lounging-place. A
+comrade in a state of excitement ran to inform the
+one policeman, who straightway repaired to the
+scene of battle. There were the combatants raging
+like wild beasts, while the whole community looked
+on aghast. What was to be done? Evidently
+something, and at once. The policeman looked
+about him, considering. As for interfering with
+that fearful twain, it was out of the question.
+His eye fell upon a poor old man who leaned
+against a fish-house enjoying the scene. A happy
+thought struck him! He dashed down upon the
+ancient and unoffending spectator, and hurled him
+to the ground with such force that he broke his
+collar-bone. Then, I suppose, he retired, serene
+in the proud consciousness of having done his
+duty, and of having been fully equal to the occasion.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</span></p>
+
+<p>Two of the chief magistrates of the place had
+a deadly feud, entirely personal, which had smouldered
+between them for years. One day the
+stronger of the two quietly “arrested” the weaker,
+tied him hand and foot with ropes, “hove” him
+into his whale-boat, and sailed off with him in triumph
+to the land. Arrived at the city of Portsmouth,
+he conducted him to jail, delivered him
+over to the jailer with much satisfaction, crying,
+“There! There he is! Take him and lock him
+up! He’s a poor pris’ner. Don’t you give him
+nothin’ t’ eat!” and returned rejoicing to the bosom
+of his family. It being Thanksgiving Day, the
+jailer is said to have taken the prisoner at once
+into his house, and, instead of locking him up,
+gave him, according to his own account, “one of
+the best Thanksgiving dinners he ever ate.”</p>
+
+<p>Nearly all the Shoalers have a singular gait,
+contracted from the effort to keep their equilibrium
+while standing in boats, and from the unavoidable
+gymnastics which any attempt at locomotion
+among the rocks renders necessary. Some stiff-jointed
+old men have been known to leap wildly
+from broad stone to stone on the smooth, flat
+pavements of Portsmouth town, finding it out of
+the question to walk evenly and decorously along
+the straight and easy way. This is no fable.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</span>
+Such is the force of habit. Most of the men are
+more or less round-shouldered, and seldom row
+upright, with head erect and shoulders thrown
+back. They stoop so much over the fish-tables—cleaning,
+splitting, salting, packing—that they
+acquire a permanent habit of stooping.</p>
+
+<p>Twenty years ago, an old man by the name of
+Peter was alive on Star Island. He was said to
+be a hundred years old; and anything more grisly,
+in the shape of humanity, it has never been my
+lot to behold; so lean and brown and ancient,
+he might have been Methuselah, for no one knew
+how long he had lived on this rolling planet.
+Years before he died he used to paddle across to
+our lighthouse, in placid summer days, and, scanning
+him with a child’s curiosity, I wondered
+how he kept alive. A few white hairs clung to
+his yellow crown, and his pale eyes, “where the
+very blue had turned to white,” looked vacantly
+and wearily out, as if trying faintly to see the end
+of the things of this world. Somebody, probably
+old Nabbaye, in whose cottage he lived, always
+scoured him with soft soap before he started on
+his voyage, and in consequence a most preternatural
+shine overspread his blank forehead. His
+under jaw had a disagreeably suggestive habit of
+dropping, he was so feeble and so old, poor wretch!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</span>
+Yet would he brighten with a faint attempt at a
+smile when bread and meat were put into his
+hands, and say, over and over again, “Ye’re a
+Christian, ma’am; thank ye, ma’am, thank ye,”
+thrust all that was given him, no matter what, between
+his one upper garment—a checked shirt—and
+his bare skin, and then, by way of expressing
+his gratitude, would strike up a dolorous quaver
+of—</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“Over the water and over the lea<br>
+And over the water to Charlie,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>in a voice as querulous as a Scotch bagpipe.</p>
+
+<p>Old Nabbaye, and Bennaye, her husband, with
+whom Peter lived, were a queer old couple. Nabbaye
+had a stubbly and unequal growth of sparse
+gray hair upon her chin, which gave her a most
+grim and terrible aspect, as I remember her, with
+the grizzled locks standing out about her head like
+one of the Furies. Yet she was a good enough
+old woman, kind to Peter and Bennaye, and kept
+her bit of a cottage tidy as might be. I well remember
+the grit of the shining sand on her scoured
+floor beneath my childish footsteps. The family
+climbed at night by a ladder up into a loft, which
+their little flock of fowls shared with them, to
+sleep. Going by the house one evening, some one
+heard Nabbaye call aloud to Bennaye up aloft,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</span>
+“Come, Bennaye, fetch me down them heens’
+aigs!” To which Bennaye made answer, “I can’t
+find no aigs! I’ve looked een the bed and een under
+the bed, and I can’t find no aigs!”</p>
+
+<p>Till Bennaye grew very feeble, every summer
+night he paddled abroad in his dory to fish for
+hake, and lonely he looked, tossing among the
+waves, when our boat bore down and passed him
+with a hail which he faintly returned, as we
+plunged lightly through the track of the moonlight,
+young and happy, rejoicing in the beauty of
+the night, while poor Bennaye only counted his
+gains in the grisly hake he caught, nor considered
+the rubies the lighthouse scattered on the waves,
+or how the moon sprinkled down silver before him.
+He did not mind the touch of the balmy wind
+that blew across his weather-beaten face with the
+same sweet greeting that so gladdened us, but
+fished and fished, watching his line through the
+short summer night, and, when a blush of dawn
+stole up in the east among the stars, wound up his
+tackle, took his oars, and paddled home to Nabbaye
+with his booty,—his “fare of fish” as the
+natives have it. Hake-fishing after this picturesque
+and tedious fashion is done away with now;
+the islands are girdled with trawls, which catch
+more fish in one night than could be obtained in a
+week’s hard labor by hand.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</span></p>
+
+<p>When the dust of Bennaye and Nabbaye was
+mingled in the thin earth that scarce can cover
+the multitude of the dead on Star Island, a
+youthful couple, in whom I took great interest,
+occupied their little house. The woman was remarkably
+handsome, with a beautiful head and
+masses of rich black hair, a face regular as the
+face of a Greek statue, with eyes that sparkled
+and cheeks that glowed,—a beauty she soon exchanged
+for haggard and hollow looks. As their
+children were born they asked my advice on the
+christening of each, and, being youthful and romantic,
+I suggested Frederick as a sounding title
+for the first-born boy. Taylor being the reigning
+President, his name was instantly added, and the
+child was always addressed by his whole name.
+Going by the house one day, my ears were assailed
+by a sharp outcry: “Frederick Taylor, if you
+don’t come into the house this minute, I’ll slat
+your head off!” The tender mother borrowed
+her expression from the fishermen, who disengage
+mackerel and other delicate-gilled fish by “slatting”
+them off the hook.</p>
+
+<p>All this family have gone, and the house in
+which they lived has fallen to ruin; only the cellar
+remains, just such a rude hollow as those scattered
+over Appledore.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</span></p>
+
+<p>The people along the coast rather look down
+upon the Shoalers as being beyond the bounds of
+civilization. A young islander was expressing his
+opinion on some matter to a native of Rye, who
+answered him with great scorn: “You don’t know
+nothin’ about it! What do <i>you</i> know? <i>You</i> never
+see an apple-tree all blowed out.” A Shoaler,
+walking with some friends along a road in Rye,
+excited inextinguishable laughter by clutching his
+companion’s sleeve as a toad hopped innocently
+across the way, and crying: “Mr. Berraye, what
+kind of a bug do you call that? D—d if I ever
+see such a bug as that, Mr. Berraye!” in a comical
+terror. There are neither frogs nor toads at
+the Shoals. “Set right down and help yourselves,”
+said an old fellow at whose door some
+guests from the Shoals appeared at dinner-time.
+“Eat all you can. I ain’t got no manners; the
+girl’s got the manners, and she ain’t to hum.”</p>
+
+<p>One old Shoaler, long since gone to another
+world, was a laughable and curious character.
+A man more wonderfully fulfilling the word
+“homely” in the Yankee sense, I never saw. He
+had the largest, most misshapen cheek-bones ever
+constructed, an illimitable upper lip, teeth that
+should not be mentioned, and small, watery eyes.
+Skin and hair and eyes and mouth were of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</span>
+same pasty yellow, and that grotesque head was
+set on a little, thin, and shambling body. He used
+to be head singer at the church, and “pitched the
+tune” by whistling when the parson had read the
+hymn. Then all who could joined in the singing,
+which must have been remarkable, to say the least.
+So great a power of brag is seldom found in one
+human being as that which permeated him from
+top to toe, and found vent in stories of personal
+prowess and bravery unexampled in history. He
+used to tell a story of his encounter with thirteen
+“Spanish grandeers” in New Orleans, he having
+been a sailor a great part of his life. He was innocently
+peering into a theatre, when the “grandeers”
+fell upon him out of the exceeding pride of
+their hearts. “Wall, sir, I turned, and I laid six
+o’ them grandeers to the right and seven to the
+left, and then I put her for the old brig, and I
+heerd no more on ’em!”</p>
+
+<p>He considered himself unequalled as a musician,
+and would sing you ballad after ballad, sitting
+bent forward with his arms on his knees,
+and his wrinkled eyelids screwed tight together,
+grinding out the tune with a quiet steadiness of
+purpose that seemed to betoken no end to his capacities.
+Ballads of love and of war he sang,—the
+exploits of “Brave Wolf,” or, as he pronounced<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</span>
+it, “Brahn Wolf,” and one famous song of a
+naval battle, of which only two lines remain in
+my memory;—</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“With sixteen brass nineteens the Lion did growl,<br>
+With nineteen brass twenties the Tiger did howl.”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>At the close of each verse he invariably dropped
+his voice, and said, instead of sung, the last word,
+which had a most abrupt and surprising effect, to
+which a listener never could become accustomed.
+The immortal ballad of Lord Bateman he had remodelled
+with beautiful variations of his own.
+The name of the coy maiden, the Turk’s only
+daughter, Sophia, was Susan Fryan, according to
+his version, and Lord Bateman was metamorphosed
+into Lord Bakum. When Susan Fryan crosses
+the sea to Lord Bakum’s castle and knocks so loud
+that the gates do ring, he makes the bold young
+porter, who was so ready for to let her in, go to
+his master, who sits feasting with a new bride, and
+say:—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Seven long years have I tended your gate, sir,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Seven long years out of twenty-three,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But so fair a creetur as now stands waitin’</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Never before with my eyes did see.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“O, she has rings on every finger,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">And round her middle if she’s one she has three;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">O, I’m sure she’s got more good gold about her</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Than would buy your bride and her companie!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</span></p>
+<p>The enjoyment with which he gave this song was
+delightful to witness. Of the many he used to
+sing, one was a doleful story of how a youth of
+high degree fell in love with his mother’s fair
+waiting-woman, Betsy, who was in consequence
+immediately transported to foreign lands. But
+alas for her lover!—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Then he fell sick and like to have died;</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">His mother round his sick-bed cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">But all her crying it was in vain,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">For Betsy was a-ploughing the raging main!”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+
+<p>The word “main” was brought out with startling
+effect. Another song about a miller and his sons
+I only half remember:—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“The miller he called his oldest son,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Saying, ‘Now my glass it is almost run,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">If I to you the mill relate,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What toll do you <i>re</i>sign to take?’</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“The son replied: ‘My name is Jack,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And out of a bushel I’ll take a peck.’</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">‘Go, go, you fool!’ the old man cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And called the next to his bedside.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“The second said: ‘My name is Ralph,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And out of a bushel I’ll take a half.’</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">‘Go, go, you fool!’ the old man cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And called the next to his bedside.</div>
+ </div>
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“The youngest said: ‘My name is Paul,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And out of a bushel I’ll take it all!’</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">‘You are my son!’ the old man cried,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And <i>shot</i> up his eyes and died in peace.”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</span></p>
+<p>The manner in which this last verse was delivered
+was inimitable, the “died in peace” being spoken
+with great satisfaction. The singer had an ancient
+violin, which he used to hug under his wizened
+chin, and from which he drew such dismal tones
+as never before were heard on sea or land. He
+had no more idea of playing than one of the codfish
+he daily split and salted, yet he christened
+with pride all the shrieks and wails he drew out
+of the wretched instrument with various high-sounding
+titles. After he had entertained his audience
+for a while with these aimless sounds, he
+was wont to say, “Wall, now I’ll give yer Prince
+Esterhazy’s March,” and forthwith began again
+precisely the same intolerable squeak.</p>
+
+<p>After he died, other stars in the musical world
+appeared in the horizon, but none equalled him.
+They all seemed to think it necessary to shut
+their eyes and squirm like nothing human during
+the process of singing a song, and they “pitched
+the tune” so high that no human voice ever could
+hope to reach it in safety. “Tew high, Bill, tew
+high,” one would say to the singer, with slow
+solemnity; so Bill tried again. “Tew high again,
+Bill, tew high.” “Wull, <i>you</i> strike it, Obed,” Bill
+would say in despair; and Obed would “strike,”
+and hit exactly the same impossible altitude,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</span>
+whereat Bill would slap his knee, and cry in glad
+surprise, “D—d if he ain’t got it!” and forth,
+with catch Obed and launch on his perilous flight,
+and grow red in the face with the mighty effort
+of getting up there, and remaining there through
+the intricacies and variations of the melody. One
+could but wonder whence these queer tunes came,—how
+they were created; some of them reminded
+one of the creaking and groaning of windlasses and
+masts, the rattling of rowlocks, the whistling of
+winds among cordage, yet with less of music in
+them than these natural sounds. The songs of the
+sailors heaving up the anchor are really beautiful
+often, the wild chant that rises sometimes into a
+grand chorus, all the strong voices borne out on
+the wind in the cry of</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“Yo ho, the roaring river!”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>But these Shoals performances are lacking in any
+charm, except that of the broadest fun.</p>
+
+<p>The process of dunning, which made the Shoals
+fish so famous a century ago, is almost a lost art,
+though the chief fisherman at Star still “duns” a
+few yearly. A real dunfish is handsome, cut in
+transparent strips, the color of brown sherry
+wine. The process is a tedious one: the fish are
+piled in the storehouse and undergo a period of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</span>
+“sweating” after the first drying, then are carried
+out into sun and wind, dried again slightly, and
+again piled in the warehouse, and so on till the
+process is complete. Drying fish in the common
+fashion is more difficult than might be imagined:
+it is necessary to watch and tend them continually
+as they lie on the picturesque “flakes,” and if they
+are exposed at too early a stage to a sun too hot
+they burn as surely as a loaf of bread in an intemperate
+oven, only the burning does not crisp, but
+liquefies their substance.</p>
+
+<p>For the last ten years fish have been caught
+about the Shoals by trawl and seine in such quantities
+that they are thinning fast, and the trade
+bids fair to be much less lucrative before many
+years have elapsed. The process of drawing the
+trawl is very picturesque and interesting, watched
+from the rocks or from the boat itself. The buoy
+being drawn in, then follow the baited hooks one
+after another. First, perhaps, a rockling shows his
+bright head above water; a pull, and in he comes
+flapping, with brilliant red fins distended, gaping
+mouth, indigo-colored eyes, and richly mottled
+skin: a few futile somersets, and he subsides into
+slimy dejection. Next, perhaps, a big whelk is
+tossed into the boat; then a leaden-gray haddock,
+with its dark stripe of color on each side;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</span>
+then, perhaps, follow a few bare hooks; then a
+hake, with horrid, cavernous mouth; then a large
+purple star-fish, or a clattering crab; then a ling,—a
+yellow-brown, wide-mouthed piece of ugliness
+never eaten here, but highly esteemed on the
+coast of Scotland; then more cod or haddock, or
+perhaps a lobster, bristling with indignation at the
+novel situation in which he finds himself; then
+a cusk, long, smooth, compact, and dark; then a
+catfish. Of all fiends commend me to the catfish
+as the most fiendish! Black as night, with thick
+and hideous skin, which looks a dull, mouldy
+green beneath the water, a head shaped as much
+like a cat’s as a fish’s head can be, in which the
+devil’s own eyes seem to glow with a dull, malicious
+gleam,—and such a mouth! What terrible
+expressions these cold creatures carry to and fro
+in the vast, dim spaces of the sea! All fish have
+a more or less imbecile and wobegone aspect; but
+this one looks absolutely evil, and Schiller might
+well say of him that he “grins through the grate
+of his spiky teeth,” and sharp and deadly are they;
+every man looks out for his boots when a catfish
+comes tumbling in, for they bite through leather,
+flesh, and bones. They seize a ballast-stone between
+their jaws, and their teeth snap and fly in
+all directions. I have seen them bite the long<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</span>
+blade of a sharp knife so fiercely, that, when it
+was lifted and held aloft, they kept their furious
+gripe, and dangled, flapping all their clumsy
+weight, hanging by their teeth to the blade.
+Sculpins abound, and are a nuisance on the
+trawls. Ugly and grotesque as are the full-grown
+fish, there is nothing among the finny tribe more
+dainty, more quaint and delicate, than the baby
+sculpin. Sometimes in a pool of crystal water
+one comes upon him unawares,—a fairy creature,
+the color of a blush-rose, striped and freaked and
+pied with silver and gleaming green, hanging in
+the almost invisible water as a bird in air, with
+broad, transparent fins suffused with a faint pink
+color, stretched wide like wings to upbear the
+supple form. The curious head is only strange,
+not hideous as yet, and one gazes marvelling at
+all the beauty lavished on a thing of so little
+worth.</p>
+
+<p>Wolf-fish, first cousins to the catfish, are found
+also on the trawls; and dog-fish, with pointed
+snouts and sand-paper skins, abound to such an
+extent as to drive away everything else sometimes.
+Sand-dabs, a kind of flounder, fasten their sluggish
+bodies to the hooks, and a few beautiful red
+fish, called bream, are occasionally found; also a
+few blue-fish and sharks; frequently halibut,—though<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</span>
+these latter are generally caught on trawls
+which are made especially for them. Sometimes
+is caught on a trawl a monstrous creature of horrible
+aspect, called the nurse-fish,—an immense
+fish weighing twelve hundred pounds, with a
+skin like a nutmeg-grater, and no teeth,—a kind
+of sucker, hence its name. I asked a Shoaler
+what the nurse-fish looked like, and he answered
+promptly, “Like the Devil!” One weighing
+twelve hundred pounds has “two barrels of
+liver,” as the natives phrase it, which is very
+valuable for the oil it contains. One of the fishermen
+described a creature which they call mud-eel,—a
+foot and a half long, with a mouth like a
+rat, and two teeth. The bite of this water-snake
+is poisonous, the islanders aver, and tell a story
+of a man bitten by one at Mount Desert last
+year, “who did not live long enough to get to the
+doctor.” They bite at the hooks on the trawl, and
+are drawn up in a lump of mud, and the men cut
+the ropes and mangle their lines to get rid of
+them. Huge sunfish are sometimes harpooned,
+lying on the top of the water,—a lump of flesh
+like cocoanut meat encased in a skin like rubber
+cloth, with a most dim and abject hint of a face,
+absurdly disproportionate to the size of the body,
+roughly outlined on the edge. Sword-fish are<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</span>
+also harpooned, weighing eight hundred pounds
+and upward; they are very delicate food. A
+sword-fish swimming leaves a wake a mile long
+on a calm day, and bewilders the imagination into
+a belief in sea-serpents. There’s a legend that a
+torpedo was caught here once upon a time; and
+the thrasher, fox-shark, or sea-fox occasionally
+alarms the fisherman with his tremendous flexible
+tail, that reaches “from the gunnel to the
+mainmast-top” when the creature comes to the
+surface. Also they tell of skip-jacks that sprang
+on board their boats at night when they were
+hake-fishing,—“little things about as large as
+mice, long and slender, with beaks like birds.”
+Sometimes a huge horse-mackerel flounders in and
+drives ashore on a ledge, for the gulls to scream
+over for weeks. Mackerel, herring, porgies, and
+shiners used to abound before the seines so thinned
+them. Bonito and blue-fish and dog-fish help
+drive away the more valuable varieties. It is a
+lovely sight to see a herring-net drawn in, especially
+by moonlight, when every fish hangs like a
+long silver drop from the close-set meshes. Perch
+are found in inexhaustible quantities about the
+rocks, and lump or butter fish are sometimes
+caught; pollock are very plentiful,—smooth,
+graceful, slender creatures! It is fascinating to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</span>
+watch them turning somersets in the water close
+to the shore in full tides, or following a boat at
+sunset, and breaking the molten gold of the sea’s
+surface with silver-sparkling fin and tail. The
+rudder-fish is sometimes found, and alewives and
+menhaden. Whales are more or less plentiful in
+summer, “spouting their foam-fountains in the
+sea.” Beautiful is the sparkling column of water
+rising suddenly afar off and falling noiselessly
+back again. Not long ago a whale twisted his
+tail in the cable of the schooner Vesper, lying
+to the eastward of the Shoals, and towed the vessel
+several miles, at the rate of twenty knots an
+hour, with the water boiling all over her from
+stem to stern!</p>
+
+<p>Last winter some of the Shoalers were drawing
+a trawl between the Shoals and Boone Island,
+fifteen miles to the eastward. As they drew in
+the line and relieved each hook of its burden, lo!
+a horror was lifted half above the surface,—part
+of a human body, which dropped off the hooks
+and was gone, while they shuddered, and stared at
+each other, aghast at the hideous sight.</p>
+
+<p>Porpoises are seen at all seasons. I never saw
+one near enough to gain a knowledge of its expression,
+but it always seemed to me that these
+fish led a more hilarious life than the greater part<span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</span>
+of their race, and I think they must carry less
+dejected countenances than most of the inhabitants
+of the sea. They frisk so delightfully on
+the surface, and ponderously plunge over and over
+with such apparent gayety and satisfaction! I
+remember being out one moonless summer night
+beyond the lighthouse island, in a little boat filled
+with gay young people. The sea was like oil, the
+air was thick and warm, no star broke the upper
+darkness, only now and then the lighthouse threw
+its jewelled track along the water, and through
+the dense air its long rays stretched above, turning
+solemnly, like the luminous spokes of a gigantic
+wheel, as the lamps slowly revolved. There had
+been much talk and song and laughter, much playing
+with the warm waves (or rather smooth undulations
+of the sea, for there wasn’t a breath of
+wind to make a ripple), which broke at a touch
+into pale-green, phosphorescent fire. Beautiful
+arms, made bare to the shoulder, thrust down into
+the liquid darkness, shone flaming silver and gold;
+from the fingers playing beneath, fire seemed to
+stream; emerald sparks clung to the damp draperies;
+and a splashing oar-blade half revealed
+sweet faces and bright young eyes. Suddenly a
+pause came in talk and song and laughter, and in
+the unaccustomed silence we seemed to be waiting<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</span>
+for something. At once out of the darkness came
+a slow, tremendous sigh that made us shiver in
+the soft air, as if all the woe and terror of the sea
+were condensed in that immense and awful breath;
+and we took our oars and pulled homeward, with
+the weird fires flashing from our bows and oar-blades.
+“Only a porpoise blowing,” said the initiated,
+when we told our tale. It may have been
+“only a porpoise blowing”; but the leviathan himself
+could hardly have made a more prodigious
+sound.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>Within the lovely limits of summer it is beautiful
+to live almost anywhere; most beautiful where
+the ocean meets the land; and here particularly,
+where all the varying splendor of the sea encompasses
+the place, and the ceaseless changing
+of the tides brings continual refreshment into
+the life of every day. But summer is late and
+slow to come; and long after the mainland has
+begun to bloom and smile beneath the influence
+of spring, the bitter northwest winds still sweep
+the cold, green water about these rocks, and tear
+its surface into long and glittering waves from
+morning till night, and from night till morning,
+through many weeks. No leaf breaks the frozen
+soil, and no bud swells on the shaggy bushes that<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</span>
+clothe the slopes. But if summer is a laggard in
+her coming, she makes up for it by the loveliness
+of her lingering into autumn; for when the
+pride of trees and flowers is despoiled by frost
+on shore, the little gardens here are glowing at
+their brightest, and day after day of mellow splendor
+drops like a benediction from the hand of God.
+In the early mornings in September the mists
+draw away from the depths of inland valleys, and
+rise into the lucid western sky,—tall columns and
+towers of cloud, solid, compact, superb; their
+pure, white, shining heads uplifted into the ether,
+solemn, stately, and still, till some wandering
+breeze disturbs their perfect outline, and they melt
+about the heavens in scattered fragments as the
+day goes on. Then there are mornings when “all
+in the blue, unclouded weather” the coast-line
+comes out so distinctly that houses, trees, bits of
+white beach, are clearly visible, and with a glass,
+moving forms of carriages and cattle are distinguishable
+nine miles away. In the transparent
+air the peaks of Mounts Madison, Washington,
+and Jefferson are seen distinctly at a distance of
+one hundred miles. In the early light even the
+green color of the trees is perceptible on the Rye
+shore. All through these quiet days the air is full
+of wandering thistle-down, the inland golden-rod<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</span>
+waves its plumes, and close by the water’s edge,
+in rocky clefts, its seaside sister blossoms in
+gorgeous color; the rose-haws redden, the iris
+unlocks its shining caskets, and casts its closely
+packed seeds about, gray berries cluster on the
+bayberry-bushes, the sweet life-everlasting sends
+out its wonderful, delicious fragrance, and the pale
+asters spread their flowers in many-tinted sprays.
+Through October and into November the fair,
+mild weather lasts. At the first breath of October,
+the hillside at Appledore fires up with the
+living crimson of the huckleberry-bushes, as if a
+blazing torch had been applied to it; the slanting
+light at sunrise and sunset makes a wonderful glory
+across it. The sky deepens its blue; beneath it
+the brilliant sea glows into violet, and flashes into
+splendid purple where the “tide-rip,” or eddying
+winds, make long streaks across its surface (poets
+are not wrong who talk of “purple seas,”) the
+air is clear and sparkling, the lovely summer haze
+withdraws, all things take a crisp and tender
+outline, and the cry of the curlew and the plover
+is doubly sweet through the pure, cool air. Then
+sunsets burn in clear and tranquil skies, or flame
+in piled magnificence of clouds. Some night a
+long bar lies, like a smouldering brand, along the
+horizon, deep carmine where the sun has touched<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</span>
+it; and out of that bar breaks a sudden gale before
+morning, and a fine fury and tumult begins to rage.
+Then comes the fitful weather,—wild winds and
+hurrying waves, low, scudding clouds, tremendous
+rains that shut out everything; and the rocks lie
+weltering between the sea and sky, with the brief
+fire of the leaves quenched and swept away on the
+hillside,—only rushing wind and streaming water
+everywhere, as if a second deluge were flooding the
+world.</p>
+
+<p>After such a rain comes a gale from the southeast
+to sweep the sky clear,—a gale so furious
+that it blows the sails straight out of the bolt-ropes,
+if any vessel is so unfortunate as to be
+caught in it with a rag of canvas aloft; and the
+coast is strewn with the wrecks of such craft as
+happen to be caught on the lee shore, for</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“Anchors drag, and topmasts lap,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>and nothing can hold against this terrible, blind
+fury. It is appalling to listen to the shriek of
+such a wind, even though one is safe upon a rock
+that cannot move; and more dreadful is it to see
+the destruction one cannot lift a finger to avert.</p>
+
+<p>As the air grows colder, curious atmospheric
+effects become visible. At the first biting cold the
+distant mainland has the appearance of being taken
+off its feet, as it were,—the line shrunken and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</span>
+distorted, detached from the water at both ends:
+it is as if one looked under it and saw the sky beyond.
+Then, on bright mornings with a brisk wind,
+little wafts of mist rise between the quick, short
+waves, and melt away before noon. At some periods
+of intense cold these mists, which are never in
+banks like fog, rise in irregular, whirling columns
+reaching to the clouds,—shadowy phantoms, torn
+and wild, that stalk past like Ossian’s ghosts, solemnly
+and noiselessly throughout the bitter day.
+When the sun drops down behind these weird
+processions, with a dark-red, lurid light, it is like a
+vast conflagration, wonderful and terrible to see.
+The columns, that strike and fall athwart the
+island, sweep against the windows with a sound
+like sand, and lie on the ground in ridges, like fine,
+sharp hail; yet the heavens are clear, the heavily
+rolling sea dark-green and white, and, between the
+breaking crests, the misty columns stream toward
+the sky.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes a totally different vapor, like cold,
+black smoke, rolls out from the land, and flows
+over the sea to an unknown distance, swallowing
+up the islands on its way. Its approach is hideous
+to witness. “It’s all thick o’ black vapor,” some
+islander announces, coming in from out of doors;
+just as they say, “It’s all thick o’ white foam,”<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</span>
+when the sudden squall tears the sea into fringes
+of spray.</p>
+
+<p>In December the colors seem to fade out of the
+world, and utter ungraciousness prevails. The
+great, cool, whispering, delicious sea, that encircled
+us with a thousand caresses the beautiful
+summer through, turns slowly our sullen and inveterate
+enemy; leaden it lies beneath a sky like
+tin, and rolls its “white, cold, heavy-plunging
+foam” against a shore of iron. Each island
+wears its chalk-white girdle of ice between the
+rising and falling tides (edged with black at low-water,
+where the lowest-growing seaweed is exposed),
+making the stern bare rocks above more
+forbidding by their contrast with its stark whiteness,—and
+the whiteness of salt-water ice is
+ghastly. Nothing stirs abroad, except perhaps</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“A lonely sea-bird crosses,<br>
+With one waft of wing,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>your view, as you gaze from some spray-incrusted
+window; or you behold the weather-beaten
+schooners creeping along the blurred
+coast-line from Cape Elizabeth and the northern
+ports of Maine towards Cape Ann, laden with lumber
+or lime, and sometimes, rarely, with hay or
+provisions.</p>
+
+<p>After winter has fairly set in, the lonely dwellers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</span>
+at the Isles of Shoals find life quite as much as
+they can manage, being so entirely thrown upon
+their own resources that it requires all the philosophy
+at their disposal to answer the demand. In
+the village, where several families make a little
+community, there should be various human interests
+outside each separate fireside; but of their
+mode of life I know little. Upon three of the
+islands live isolated families, cut off by the “always
+wind-obeying deep” from each other and
+from the mainland, sometimes for weeks together,
+when the gales are fiercest, with no letters nor
+intercourse with any living thing. Some sullen
+day in December the snow begins to fall, and the
+last touch of desolation is laid upon the scene;
+there is nothing any more but white snow and
+dark water, hemmed in by a murky horizon; and
+nothing moves or sounds within its circle but the
+sea harshly assailing the shore, and the chill wind
+that sweeps across. Toward night the wind begins
+to rise, the snow whirls and drifts, and clings
+wherever it can find a resting-place; and though
+so much is blown away, yet there is enough left to
+smother up the rock and make it almost impossible
+to move about on it. The drifts sometimes
+are very deep in the hollows; one winter, sixteen
+sheep were buried in a drift, in which they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</span>
+remained a week, and, strange to say, only one was
+dead when they were discovered. One goes to
+sleep in the muffled roar of the storm, and wakes
+to find it still raging with senseless fury; all day
+it continues; towards night the curtain of falling
+flakes withdraws, a faint light shows westward;
+slowly the clouds roll together, the lift grows bright
+with pale, clear blue over the land, the wind has
+hauled to the northwest, and the storm is at an
+end. When the clouds are swept away by the
+besom of the pitiless northwest, how the stars
+glitter in the frosty sky! What wondrous streamers
+of northern lights flare through the winter
+darkness! I have seen the sky at midnight crimson
+and emerald and orange and blue in palpitating
+sheets along the whole northern half of the
+heavens, or rosy to the zenith, or belted with a
+bar of solid yellow light from east to west, as if
+the world were a basket, and it the golden handle
+thereto. The weather becomes of the first importance
+to the dwellers on the rock; the changes of
+the sky and sea, the flitting of the coasters to and
+fro, the visits of the sea-fowl, sunrise and sunset,
+the changing moon, the northern lights, the constellations
+that wheel in splendor through the
+winter night,—all are noted with a love and
+careful scrutiny that is seldom given by people<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</span>
+living in populous places. One grows accustomed
+to the aspect of the constellations, and they seem
+like the faces of old friends looking down out of
+the awful blackness; and when in summer the
+great Orion disappears, how it is missed out of
+the sky! I remember the delight with which we
+caught a glimpse of the planet Mercury, in March,
+1868, following close at the heels of the sinking
+sun, redly shining in the reddened horizon,—a
+stranger mysterious and utterly unknown before.</p>
+
+<p>For these things make our world: there are no
+lectures, operas, concerts, theatres, no music of
+any kind, except what the waves may whisper in
+rarely gentle moods; no galleries of wonders like
+the Natural History rooms, in which it is so fascinating
+to wander; no streets, shops, carriages,
+no postman, no neighbors, not a door-bell within
+the compass of the place! Never was life so exempt
+from interruptions. The eight or ten small
+schooners that carry on winter fishing, flying to
+and fro through foam and squall to set and haul
+in their trawls, at rare intervals bring a mail,—an
+accumulation of letters, magazines, and newspapers
+that it requires a long time to plod through.
+This is the greatest excitement of the long winters;
+and no one can truly appreciate the delight
+of letters till he has lived where he can hear from
+his friends only once in a month.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</span></p>
+
+<p>But the best balanced human mind is prone to
+lose its elasticity, and stagnate, in this isolation.
+One learns immediately the value of work to keep
+one’s wits clear, cheerful, and steady; just as much
+real work of the body as it can bear without weariness
+being always beneficent, but here indispensable.
+And in this matter women have the advantage
+of men, who are condemned to fold their
+hands when their tasks are done. No woman need
+ever have a vacant minute,—there are so many
+pleasant, useful things which she may, and had
+better do. Blessed be the man who invented
+knitting! (I never heard that a woman invented
+this or any other art.) It is the most charming
+and picturesque of quiet occupations, leaving the
+knitter free to read aloud, or talk, or think, while
+steadily and surely beneath the flying fingers the
+comfortable stocking grows.</p>
+
+<p>No one can dream what a charm there is in
+taking care of pets, singing-birds, plants, etc.,
+with such advantages of solitude; how every leaf
+and bud and flower is pored over, and admired,
+and loved! A whole conservatory, flushed with
+azaleas, and brilliant with forests of camellias and
+every precious exotic that blooms, could not impart
+so much delight as I have known a single rose
+to give, unfolding in the bleak bitterness of a day<span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</span>
+in February, when this side of the planet seemed
+to have arrived at its culmination of hopelessness,
+with the Isles of Shoals the most hopeless speck
+upon its surface. One gets close to the heart of
+these things; they are almost as precious as Picciola
+to the prisoner, and yield a fresh and constant
+joy, such as the pleasure-seeking inhabitants
+of cities could not find in their whole round of
+shifting diversions. With a bright and cheerful
+interior, open fires, books, and pictures, windows
+full of thrifty blossoming plants and climbing vines,
+a family of singing-birds, plenty of work, and a
+clear head and quiet conscience, it would go hard
+if one could not be happy even in such loneliness.
+Books, of course, are inestimable. Nowhere does
+one follow a play of Shakespeare’s with greater
+zest, for it brings the whole world, which you need,
+about you; doubly precious the deep thoughts
+wise men have given to help us,—doubly sweet
+the songs of all the poets; for nothing comes between
+to distract you.</p>
+
+<p>One realizes how hard it was for Robinson Crusoe
+to keep the record of his lonely days; for
+even in a family of eight or nine the succession is
+kept with difficulty. I recollect that, after an
+unusually busy Saturday, when household work
+was done, and lessons said, and the family were<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</span>
+looking forward to Sunday and merited leisure, at
+sunset came a young Star-Islander on some errand
+to our door. One said to him, “Well, Jud, how
+many fish have they caught to-day at Star?”
+Jud looked askance and answered, like one who
+did not wish to be trifled with, “We don’t go
+a-fishing Sundays!” So we had lost our Sunday,
+thinking it was Saturday; and next day began the
+usual business, with no break of refreshing rest
+between.</p>
+
+<p>Though the thermometer says that here it is
+twelve degrees warmer in winter than on the mainland,
+the difference is hardly perceptible,—the
+situation is so bleak, while the winds of the north
+and west bite like demons, with all the bitter
+breath of the snowy continent condensed in their
+deadly chill. Easterly and southerly gales are
+milder; we have no east winds such as sadden
+humanity on shore; they are tempered to gentleness
+by some mysterious means. Sometimes there
+are periods of cold which, though not intense (the
+mercury seldom falling lower than 11° above zero),
+are of such long duration that the fish are killed
+in the sea. This happens frequently with perch,
+the dead bodies of which strew the shores and float
+on the water in masses. Sometimes ice forms in
+the mouth of the Piscataqua River, which, continually<span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</span>
+broken into unequal blocks by the rushing
+tide and the immense pressure of the outer ocean,
+fills the space between the islands and the shore,
+so that it is very difficult to force a boat through.
+The few schooners moored about the islands become
+so loaded with ice that sometimes they sink;
+every plunge into the assailing waves adds a fresh
+crust, infinitely thin; but in twenty-four hours
+enough accumulates to sink the vessel; and it is
+part of the day’s work in the coldest weather to
+beat off the ice,—and hard work it is. Every
+time the bowsprit dips under, the man who sits
+astride it is immersed to his waist in the freezing
+water, as he beats at the bow to free the laboring
+craft. I cannot imagine a harder life than the
+sailors lead in winter in the coasting-vessels that
+stream in endless processions to and fro along the
+shore; and they seem to be the hardest set of
+people under the sun,—so rough and reckless that
+they are not pleasant even at a distance. Sometimes
+they land here. A crew of thirteen or fourteen
+came on shore last winter; they might
+have been the ghosts of the men who manned the
+picaroons that used to swarm in these seas. A
+more piratical-looking set could not well be imagined.
+They roamed about, and glared in at the
+windows with weather-beaten, brutal faces, and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</span>
+eyes that showed traces of whiskey, ugly and unmistakable.</p>
+
+<p>No other visitors break the solitude of Appledore,
+except neighbors from Star once in a while;
+if any one is sick, they send, perhaps, for medicine
+or milk; or they bring some rare fish; or if any
+one dies, and they cannot reach the mainland,
+they come to get a coffin made. I never shall forget
+one long, dreary, drizzly northeast storm, when
+two men rowed across from Star to Appledore on
+this errand. A little child had died, and they
+could not sail to the mainland, and had no means
+to construct a coffin among themselves. All day
+I watched the making of that little chrysalis; and
+at night the last nail was driven in, and it lay
+across a bench in the midst of the litter of the
+workshop, and a curious stillness seemed to emanate
+from the senseless boards. I went back to
+the house and gathered a handful of scarlet geranium,
+and returned with it through the rain.
+The brilliant blossoms were sprinkled with glittering
+drops. I laid them in the little coffin, while
+the wind wailed so sorrowfully outside, and the
+rain poured against the windows. Two men came
+through the mist and storm, and one swung the
+light little shell to his shoulder, and they carried
+it away, and the gathering darkness shut down and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</span>
+hid them as they tossed among the waves. I
+never saw the little girl, but where they buried
+her I know: the lighthouse shines close by, and
+every night the quiet, constant ray steals to her
+grave and softly touches it, as if to say, with a
+caress, “Sleep well! Be thankful you are spared
+so much that I see humanity endure, fixed here
+forever where I stand!”</p>
+
+<p>It is exhilarating, spite of the intense cold, to
+wake to the brightness the northwest gale always
+brings, after the hopeless smother of a prolonged
+snow-storm. The sea is deep indigo, whitened
+with flashing waves all over the surface; the sky
+is speckless; no cloud passes across it the whole
+day long; and the sun sets red and clear, without
+any abatement of the wind. The spray flying on
+the western shore for a moment is rosy as the
+sinking sun shines through, but for a moment
+only,—and again there is nothing but the ghastly
+whiteness of the salt-water ice, the cold, gray rock,
+the sullen, foaming brine, the unrelenting heavens,
+and the sharp wind cutting like a knife. All night
+long it roars beneath the hollow sky,—roars still
+at sunrise. Again the day passes precisely like
+the one gone before; the sun lies in a glare of
+quicksilver on the western water, sinks again in
+the red west to rise on just such another day;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</span>
+and thus goes on, for weeks sometimes, with an
+exasperating pertinacity that would try the most
+philosophical patience. There comes a time when
+just that glare of quicksilver on the water is not
+to be endured a minute longer. During this period
+no boat goes to or comes from the mainland,
+and the prisoners on the rock are cut off from all
+intercourse with their kind. Abroad, only the
+cattle move, crowding into the sunniest corners,
+and stupidly chewing the cud; and the hens and
+ducks, that chatter and cackle and cheerfully crow
+in spite of fate and the northwest gale. The
+dauntless and graceful gulls soar on their strong
+pinions over the drift cast up about the coves.
+Sometimes flocks of snow-buntings wheel about
+the house and pierce the loud breathing of the
+wind with sweet, wild cries. And often the spectral
+arctic owl may be seen on a height, sitting
+upright, like a column of snow, its large, round
+head slowly turning from left to right, ever on the
+alert, watching for the rats that plague the settlement
+almost as grievously as they did Hamelin
+town, in Brunswick, five hundred years ago.</p>
+
+<p>How the rats came here first is not known;
+probably some old ship imported them. They
+live partly on mussels, the shells of which lie in
+heaps about their holes, as the violet-lined fresh-water<span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</span>
+shells lie about the nests of the muskrats
+on the mainland. They burrow among the rocks
+close to the shore, in favorable spots, and, somewhat
+like the moles, make subterranean galleries,
+whence they issue at low tide, and, stealing to the
+crevices of seaweed-curtained rocks, they fall upon
+and dislodge any unfortunate crabs they may find,
+and kill and devour them. Many a rat has caught
+a Tartar in this perilous kind of hunting, has been
+dragged into the sea and killed,—drowned in the
+clutches of the crab he sought to devour; for the
+strength of these shell-fish is something astonishing.</p>
+
+<p>Several snowy owls haunt the islands the whole
+winter long. I have never heard them cry like
+other owls; when disturbed or angry, they make
+a sound like a watchman’s rattle, very loud and
+harsh, or they whistle with intense shrillness, like
+a human being. Their habitual silence adds to
+their ghostliness; and when at noonday they sit,
+high up, snow-white above the snow-drifts, blinking
+their pale yellow eyes in the sun, they are
+weird indeed. One night in March I saw one
+perched upon a rock between me and the “last
+remains of sunset dimly burning” in the west, his
+curious outline drawn black against the redness of
+the sky, his large head bent forward, and the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</span>
+whole aspect meditative and most human in its
+expression. I longed to go out and sit beside him
+and talk to him in the twilight, to ask of him the
+story of his life, or, if he would have permitted it,
+to watch him without a word. The plumage of
+this creature is wonderfully beautiful,—white,
+with scattered spots like little flecks of tawny
+cloud,—and his black beak and talons are powerful
+and sharp as iron; he might literally grapple
+his friend, or his enemy, with hooks of steel. As
+he is clothed in a mass of down, his outlines are
+so soft that he is like an enormous snowflake while
+flying; and he is a sight worth seeing when he
+stretches wide his broad wings, and sweeps down
+on his prey, silent and swift, with an unerring aim,
+and bears it off to the highest rock he can find,
+to devour it. In the summer one finds frequently
+upon the heights a little, solid ball of silvery fur
+and pure white bones, washed and bleached by
+the rain and sun; it is the rat’s skin and skeleton
+in a compact bundle, which the owl rejects after
+having swallowed it.</p>
+
+<p>Some quieter day, on the edge of a southerly
+wind, perhaps, boats go out over the gray, sad
+water after sea-fowl,—the murres that swim in
+little companies, keeping just out of reach of
+shot, and are so spiteful that they beat the boat<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</span>
+with their beaks, when wounded, in impotent
+rage, till they are despatched with an oar or
+another shot; or kittiwakes,—exquisite creatures
+like living forms of snow and cloud in color, with
+beaks and feet of dull gold,—that come when
+you wave a white handkerchief, and flutter almost
+within reach of your hand; or oldwives, called by
+the natives <i>scoldenores</i>, with clean white caps; or
+clumsy eider-ducks, or coots, or mergansers, or
+whatever they may find. Black ducks, of course,
+are often shot. Their jet-black, shining plumage
+is splendidly handsome, set off with the broad,
+flame-colored beak. Little auks, stormy-petrels,
+loons, grebes, lords-and-ladies, sea-pigeons, sea-parrots,
+various guillemots, and all sorts of gulls
+abound. Sometimes an eagle sweeps over; gannets
+pay occasional visits; the great blue heron is
+often seen in autumn and spring. One of the
+most striking birds is the cormorant, called here
+“shag”; from it the rock at Duck Island takes its
+name. It used to be an object of almost awful
+interest to me when I beheld it perched upon
+White Island Head,—a solemn figure, high and
+dark against the clouds. Once, while living on
+that island, in the thickest of a great storm in
+autumn, when we seemed to be set between two
+contending armies, deafened by the continuous<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</span>
+cannonading of breakers, and lashed and beaten
+by winds and waters till it was almost impossible
+to hear ourselves speak, we became aware
+of another sound, which pierced to our ears,
+bringing a sudden terror lest it should be the
+voices of human beings. Opening the window
+a little, what a wild combination of sounds
+came shrieking in! A large flock of wild geese
+had settled for safety upon the rock, and completely
+surrounded us,—agitated, clamorous,
+weary. We might have secured any number of
+them, but it would have been a shameful thing.
+We were glad, indeed, that they should share our
+little foothold in that chaos, and they flew away
+unhurt when the tempest lulled. I was a very
+young child when this happened, but I never can
+forget that autumn night,—it seemed so wonderful
+and pitiful that those storm-beaten birds should
+have come crying to our rock; and the strange,
+wild chorus that swept in when the window was
+pried open a little took so strong a hold upon my
+imagination that I shall hear it as long as I live.
+The lighthouse, so beneficent to mankind, is the
+destroyer of birds,—of land birds particularly,
+though in thick weather sea-birds are occasionally
+bewildered into breaking their heads against the
+glass, plunging forward headlong towards the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</span>
+light, just as the frail moth of summer evenings
+madly seeks its death in the candle’s blaze. Sometimes
+in autumn, always in spring, when birds are
+migrating, they are destroyed in such quantities by
+this means that it is painful to reflect upon. The
+keeper living at the island three years ago told me
+that he picked up three hundred and seventy-five
+in one morning at the foot of the lighthouse, all
+dead. They fly with such force against the glass
+that their beaks are often splintered. The keeper
+said he found the destruction greatest in hazy
+weather, and he thought “they struck a ray at a
+great distance and followed it up.” Many a May
+morning have I wandered about the rock at the
+foot of the tower mourning over a little apron brimful
+of sparrows, swallows, thrushes, robins, fire-winged
+blackbirds, many-colored warblers and fly-catchers,
+beautifully clothed yellow-birds, nuthatches, catbirds,
+even the purple finch and scarlet tanager
+and golden oriole, and many more beside,—enough
+to break the heart of a small child to
+think of! Once a great eagle flew against the
+lantern and shivered the glass. That was before
+I lived there; but after we came, two gulls
+cracked one of the large, clear panes, one stormy
+night.</p>
+
+<p>The sea-birds are comparatively few and shy at<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</span>
+this time; but I remember when they were plentiful
+enough, when on Duck Island in summer the
+“medrakes,” or tern, made rude nests on the
+beach, and the little yellow gulls, just out of the
+eggs, ran tumbling about among the stones, hiding
+their foolish heads in every crack and cranny,
+and, like the ostrich, imagining themselves safe so
+long as they could not see the danger. And even
+now the sandpipers build in numbers on the
+islands, and the young birds, which look like tiny
+tufts of fog, run about among the bayberry-bushes,
+with sweet, scared piping. They are exquisitely
+beautiful and delicate, covered with a
+down just like gray mist, with brilliant black eyes,
+and slender, graceful legs that make one think of
+grass-stems. And here the loons congregate in
+spring and autumn. These birds seem to me the
+most human and at the same time the most demoniac
+of their kind. I learned to imitate their
+different cries; they are wonderful! At one time
+the loon language was so familiar that I could almost
+always summon a considerable flock by
+going down to the water and assuming the neighborly
+and conversational tone which they generally
+use: after calling a few minutes, first a far-off
+voice responded, then other voices answered him,
+and when this was kept up a while, half a dozen<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</span>
+birds would come sailing in. It was the most
+delightful little party imaginable; so comical
+were they, so entertaining, that it was impossible
+not to laugh aloud,—and they could laugh too,
+in a way which chilled the marrow of one’s bones.
+They always laugh, when shot at, if they are
+missed; as the Shoalers say, “They laugh like a
+warrior.” But their long, wild, melancholy cry
+before a storm is the most awful note I ever heard
+from a bird. It is so sad, so hopeless,—a clear,
+high shriek, shaken, as it drops into silence, into
+broken notes that make you think of the fluttering
+of a pennon in the wind,—a shudder of sound.
+They invariably utter this cry before a storm.</p>
+
+<p>Between the gales from all points of the compass,
+that</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“’twixt the green sea and the azured vault</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 3em;">Set roaring war,”</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p>some day there falls a dead calm; the whole expanse
+of the ocean is like a mirror; there’s not a
+whisper of a wave, not a sigh from any wind
+about the world,—an awful, breathless pause prevails.
+Then if a loon swims into the motionless
+little bights about the island, and raises his weird
+cry, the silent rocks re-echo the unearthly tone,
+and it seems as if the creature were in league with
+the mysterious forces that are so soon to turn this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</span>
+deathly stillness into confusion and dismay. All
+through the day the ominous quiet lasts; in the
+afternoon, while yet the sea is glassy, a curious
+undertone of mournful sound can be perceived,—not
+fitful,—a steady moan such as the wind
+makes over the mouth of an empty jar. Then
+the islanders say, “Do you hear Hog Island crying?
+Now look out for a storm!” No one
+knows how that low moaning is produced, or why
+Appledore, of all the islands, should alone lament
+before the tempest. Through its gorges, perhaps,
+some current of wind sighs with that hollow cry.
+Yet the sea could hardly keep its unruffled surface
+were a wind abroad sufficient to draw out the
+boding sound. Such a calm preceded the storm
+which destroyed the Minot’s Ledge Lighthouse in
+1849. I never knew such silence. Though the
+sun blazed without a cloud, the sky and sea were
+utterly wan and colorless, and before sunset the
+mysterious tone began to vibrate in the breezeless
+air. “Hog Island’s crying!” said the islanders.
+One could but think of the Ancient Mariner, as
+the angry sun went down in a brassy glare, and
+still no ripple broke the calm. But with the twilight
+gathered the waiting wind, slowly and steadily;
+and before morning the shock of the breakers
+was like the incessant thundering of heavy guns;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</span>
+the solid rock perceptibly trembled; windows
+shook, and glass and china rattled in the house.
+It is impossible to describe the confusion, the tumult,
+the rush and roar and thunder of waves
+and wind overwhelming those rocks,—the whole
+Atlantic rushing headlong to cast itself upon
+them. It was very exciting: the most timid
+among us lost all sense of fear. Before the next
+night the sea had made a breach through the
+valley on Appledore, in which the houses stand,—a
+thing that never had happened within the
+memory of the oldest inhabitant. The waves
+piled in from the eastward (where Old Harry was
+tossing the breakers sky-high),—a maddened troop
+of giants, sweeping everything before them,—and
+followed one another, white as milk, through
+the valley from east to west, strewing the space
+with boulders from a solid wall six feet high and
+as many thick, which ran across the top of the
+beach, and which one tremendous wave toppled
+over like a child’s fence of blocks. Kelp and sea-weed
+were piled in banks high up along the shore,
+and strewed the doorsteps; and thousands of
+the hideous creatures known among the Shoalers
+as sea-mice, a holothurian (a livid, shapeless
+mass of torpid life), were scattered in all directions.
+While the storm was at its height, it was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</span>
+impossible to do anything but watch it through
+windows beaten by the blinding spray which burst
+in flying clouds all over the island, drenching
+every inch of the soil in foaming brine. In the
+coves the “yeasty surges” were churned into yellow
+masses of foam, that blew across in trembling
+flakes, and clung wherever they lit, leaving a
+hoary scum of salt when dry, which remained till
+sweet, fair water dropped out of the clouds to
+wash it all away. It was long before the sea went
+down; and, days after the sun began to shine, the
+fringe of spray still leaped skyward from the
+eastern shore, and Shag and Mingo Rocks at
+Duck Island tossed their distant clouds of snow
+against the blue.</p>
+
+<p>After the wind subsided, it was curious to examine
+the effects of the breakers on the eastern
+shore, where huge masses of rock were struck off
+from the cliffs, and flung among the wild heaps of
+scattered boulders, to add to the already hopeless
+confusion of the gorges. The eastern aspects of
+the islands change somewhat every year or two
+from this cause; and, indeed, over all their surfaces
+continual change goes on from the action of the
+weather. Under the hammer and chisel of frost
+and heat, masses of stone are detached and fall
+from the edges of cliffs, whole ledges become<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</span>
+disintegrated, the rock cracks in smooth, thin sheets,
+and, once loosened, the whole mass can be pulled
+out, sheet by sheet. Twenty years ago those subtle,
+irresistible tools of the weather had cracked off
+a large mass of rock from a ledge on the slope
+of a gentle declivity. I could just lay my hand in
+the space then: now three men can walk abreast
+between the ledge and the detached mass; and
+nothing has touched it save heat and cold. The
+whole aspect of the rocks is infinitely aged. I
+never can see the beautiful salutation of sunrise
+upon their hoary fronts, without thinking how
+many millions of times they have answered to
+that delicate touch. On Boone Island,—a low,
+dangerous rock fifteen miles east of the Shoals,—the
+sea has even greater opportunities of destruction,
+the island is so low. Once, after a stormy
+night, the lighthouse-keeper told me the family
+found a great stone, weighing half a ton, in the
+back entry, which Father Neptune had deposited
+there,—his card, with his compliments!</p>
+
+<p>Often tremendous breakers encompass the islands
+when the surface of the sea is perfectly calm
+and the weather serene and still,—the results of
+great storms far out at sea. A “long swell”
+swings indolently, and the ponderous waves roll in
+as if tired and half asleep, to burst into clouds of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</span>
+splendor against the cliffs. Very different is their
+hurried, eager breaking when the shoulder of a
+gale compels them. There is no sound more
+gentle, more slumberous, than the distant roll of
+these billows,—</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“The rolling sea resounding soft,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>as Spenser has it. The rush of a fully alive and
+closely pursued breaker is, at a distance, precisely
+like that which a rocket makes, sweeping headlong
+upward through the air; but the other is a long
+and peaceful sigh, a dreamy, lulling, beautiful
+sound, which produces a Lethean forgetfulness of
+care and pain, makes all earthly ill seem unreal,
+and it is as if one wandered</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“In dreamful wastes, where footless fancies dwell.”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>It requires a strong effort to emerge from this
+lotus-eating state of mind. O, lovely it is, on
+sunny afternoons to sit high up in a crevice of the
+rock and look down on the living magnificence of
+breakers such as made music about us after the
+Minot’s Ledge storm,—to watch them gather,
+one after another,</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“Cliffs of emerald topped with snow,<br>
+That lift and lift, and then let go<br>
+A great white avalanche of thunder,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>which makes the solid earth tremble, and you,
+clinging to the moist rock, feel like a little cockle-shell!<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</span>
+If you are out of the reach of the heavy
+fall of spray, the fine salt mist will still stream
+about you, and salute your cheek with the healthful
+freshness of the brine, make your hair damp,
+and encrust your eyebrows with salt. While
+you sit watching the shifting splendor, uprises
+at once a higher cloud than usual; and across
+it springs a sudden rainbow, like a beautiful
+thought beyond the reach of human expression.
+High over your head the white gulls soar,
+gathering the sunshine in the snowy hollows of
+their wings. As you look up to them floating in
+the fathomless blue, there is something awful in
+the purity of that arch beneath their wings, in
+light or shade, as the broad pinions move with
+stately grace. There is no bird so white,—nor
+swan, nor dove, nor mystic ibis: about the ocean-marges
+there is no dust to soil their perfect
+snow, and no stormy wind can ruffle their delicate
+plumes,—the beautiful, happy creatures! One
+never tires of watching them. Again and again
+appears the rainbow with lovely colors melting
+into each other and vanishing, to appear again at
+the next upspringing of the spray. On the horizon
+the white sails shine; and far and wide spreads
+the blue of the sea, with nothing between you and
+the eastern continent across its vast, calm plain.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</span></p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp80" id="i126_120" style="max-width: 126.25em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i126_120.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">White Island.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>I well remember my first sight of White Island,
+where we took up our abode on leaving the mainland.
+I was scarcely five years old; but from the
+upper windows of our dwelling in Portsmouth, I
+had been shown the clustered masts of ships lying
+at the wharves along the Piscataqua River, faintly
+outlined against the sky, and, baby as I was, even
+then I was drawn, with a vague longing, seaward.
+How delightful was that long, first sail to the Isles
+of Shoals! How pleasant the unaccustomed
+sound of the incessant ripple against the boat-side,
+the sight of the wide water and limitless sky, the
+warmth of the broad sunshine that made us blink
+like young sandpipers as we sat in triumph, perched
+among the household goods with which the little
+craft was laden! It was at sunset in autumn that
+we were set ashore on that loneliest, lovely rock,
+where the lighthouse looked down on us like some
+tall, black-capped giant, and filled me with awe
+and wonder. At its base a few goats were grouped
+on the rock, standing out dark against the red sky
+as I looked up at them. The stars were beginning
+to twinkle; the wind blew cold, charged with the
+sea’s sweetness; the sound of many waters half
+bewildered me. Some one began to light the
+lamps in the tower. Rich red and golden, they
+swung round in mid-air; everything was strange<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</span>
+and fascinating and new. We entered the quaint
+little old stone cottage that was for six years our
+home. How curious it seemed, with its low,
+whitewashed ceiling and deep window-seats, showing
+the great thickness of the walls made to withstand
+the breakers, with whose force we soon grew
+acquainted! A blissful home the little house became
+to the children who entered it that quiet
+evening and slept for the first time lulled by the
+murmur of the encircling sea. I do not think a
+happier triad ever existed than we were, living
+in that profound isolation. It takes so little
+to make a healthy child happy; and we never
+wearied of our few resources. True, the winters
+seemed as long as a whole year to our little minds,
+but they were pleasant, nevertheless. Into the
+deep window-seats we climbed, and with pennies
+(for which we had no other use) made round holes
+in the thick frost, breathing on them till they
+were warm, and peeped out at the bright, fierce,
+windy weather, watching the vessels scudding
+over the intensely dark blue sea, all “feather-white”
+where the short waves broke hissing in the
+cold, and the sea-fowl soaring aloft or tossing on
+the water; or, in calmer days, we saw how the
+stealthy Star-Islander paddled among the ledges,
+or lay for hours stretched on the wet sea-weed,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</span>
+with his gun, watching for wild-fowl. Sometimes
+the round head of a seal moved about among the
+kelp-covered rocks. A few are seen every winter,
+and are occasionally shot; but they are shyer and
+more alert even than the birds.</p>
+
+<p>We were forced to lay in stores of all sorts in
+the autumn, as if we were fitting out a ship for an
+Arctic expedition. The lower story of the lighthouse
+was hung with mutton and beef, and the
+store-room packed with provisions.</p>
+
+<p>In the long, covered walk that bridged the
+gorge between the lighthouse and the house, we
+played in stormy days; and every evening it was
+a fresh excitement to watch the lighting of the
+lamps, and think how far the lighthouse sent its
+rays, and how many hearts it gladdened with assurance
+of safety. As I grew older I was allowed
+to kindle the lamps sometimes myself. That was
+indeed a pleasure. So little a creature as I might
+do that much for the great world! But by the
+fireside our best pleasure lay,—with plants and
+singing birds and books and playthings and loving
+care and kindness the cold and stormy season
+wore itself at last away, and died into the summer
+calm. We hardly saw a human face beside our
+own all winter; but with the spring came manifold
+life to our lonely dwelling,—human life<span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</span>
+among other forms. Our neighbors from Star
+rowed across; the pilot-boat from Portsmouth
+steered over, and brought us letters, newspapers,
+magazines, and told us the news of months. The
+faint echoes from the far-off world hardly touched
+us little ones. We listened to the talk of our
+elders. “Winfield Scott and Santa Anna!” “The
+war in Mexico!” “The famine in Ireland!” It
+all meant nothing to us. We heard the reading
+aloud of details of the famine, and saw tears in
+the eyes of the reader, and were vaguely sorry;
+but the fate of Red Riding-Hood was much more
+near and dreadful to us. We waited for the
+spring with an eager longing; the advent of the
+growing grass, the birds and flowers and insect
+life, the soft skies and softer winds, the everlasting
+beauty of the thousand tender tints that
+clothed the world,—these things brought us unspeakable
+bliss. To the heart of Nature one
+must needs be drawn in such a life; and very soon
+I learned how richly she repays in deep refreshment
+the reverent love of her worshipper. With
+the first warm days we built our little mountains
+of wet gravel on the beach, and danced after the
+sandpipers at the edge of the foam, shouted to
+the gossiping kittiwakes that fluttered above, or
+watched the pranks of the burgomaster gull, or<span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</span>
+cried to the crying loons. The gannet’s long,
+white wings stretched overhead, perhaps, or the
+dusky shag made a sudden shadow in mid-air, or
+we startled on some lonely ledge the great blue
+heron that flew off, trailing legs and wings, stork-like,
+against the clouds. Or, in the sunshine on
+the bare rocks, we cut from the broad, brown
+leaves of the slippery, varnished kelps, grotesque
+shapes of man and bird and beast that withered
+in the wind and blew away; or we fashioned rude
+boats from bits of driftwood, manned them with
+a weird crew of kelpies, and set them adrift on the
+great deep, to float we cared not whither.</p>
+
+<p>We played with the empty limpet-shells; they
+were mottled gray and brown, like the song-sparrow’s
+breast. We launched fleets of purple mussel-shells
+on the still pools in the rocks, left by
+the tide,—pools that were like bits of fallen
+rainbow with the wealth of the sea, with tints of
+delicate sea-weeds, crimson and green and ruddy
+brown and violet; where wandered the pearly eolis
+with rosy spines and fairy horns; and the large,
+round sea-urchins, like a boss upon a shield,
+were fastened here and there on the rock at
+the bottom, putting out from their green, prickly
+spikes transparent tentacles to seek their invisible
+food. Rosy and lilac star-fish clung to the sides;<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</span>
+in some dark nook, perhaps, a holothure unfolded
+its perfect ferns, a lovely, warm buff color, delicate
+as frost-work; little forests of coralline moss grew
+up in stillness, gold-colored shells crept about, and
+now and then flashed the silver-darting fins of
+slender minnows. The dimmest recesses were
+haunts of sea-anemones that opened wide their
+starry flowers to the flowing tide, or drew themselves
+together, and hung in large, half-transparent
+drops, like clusters of some strange, amber-colored
+fruit, along the crevices as the water ebbed away.
+Sometimes we were cruel enough to capture a
+female lobster hiding in a deep cleft, with her
+millions of mottled eggs; or we laughed to see
+the hermit-crabs challenge each other, and come
+out and fight a deadly battle till the stronger
+overcame, and, turning the weaker topsy-turvy, possessed
+himself of his ampler cockle-shell, and scuttled
+off with it triumphant. Or, pulling all together,
+we dragged up the long kelps, or devil’s-aprons;
+their roots were almost always fastened
+about large, living mussels; these we unclasped,
+carrying the mussels home to be cooked; fried in
+crumbs or batter, they were as good as oysters.
+We picked out from the kelp-roots a kind of star-fish
+which we called sea-spider; the moment we
+touched it an extraordinary process began. One<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</span>
+by one it disjointed all its sections,—whether
+from fear or anger we knew not; but it threw itself
+away, bit by bit, until nothing was left of it
+save the little, round body whence the legs had
+sprung!</p>
+
+<p>With crab and limpet, with grasshopper and
+cricket, we were friends and neighbors, and we
+were never tired of watching the land-spiders that
+possessed the place. Their webs covered every
+window-pane to the lighthouse top, and they rebuilt
+them as fast as they were swept down. One
+variety lived among the round gray stones on the
+beach, just above high-water mark, and spun no
+webs at all. Large and black, they speckled the
+light stones, swarming in the hot sun; at the first
+footfall they vanished beneath the pebbles.</p>
+
+<p>All the cracks in the rocks were draped with
+swinging veils like the window-panes. How often
+have we marvelled at them, after a fog or a heavy
+fall of dew, in the early morning, when every
+slender thread was strung with glittering drops,—the
+whole symmetrical web a wonder of shining
+jewels trembling in the breeze! Tennyson’s
+lines,</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“The cobweb woven across the cannon’s throat</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Shall shake its threaded tears in the wind no more,”</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p>always bring back to my mind the memory of<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</span>
+those delicate, spangled draperies, more beautiful
+than any mortal loom could weave, that curtained
+the rocks at White Island and “shook their
+threaded tears” in every wind.</p>
+
+<p>Sometimes we saw the bats wheel through the
+summer dusk, and in profoundly silent evenings
+heard, from the lighthouse top, their shrill, small
+cries, their voices sharper and finer than needle-points.
+One day I found one clinging to the under
+side of a shutter,—a soft, dun-colored, downy
+lump. I took it in my hand, and in an instant it
+changed to a hideous little demon, and its fierce
+white teeth met in the palm of my hand. So
+much fury in so small a beast I never encountered,
+and I was glad enough to give him his liberty
+without more ado.</p>
+
+<p>A kind of sandhopper about an inch long, that
+infested the beach, was a great source of amusement.
+Lifting the stranded sea-weed that marked
+the high-water line, we always startled a gray and
+brown cloud of them from beneath it, leaping
+away, like tiny kangaroos, out of sight. In
+storms these were driven into the house, forcing
+their way through every crack and cranny till they
+strewed the floors,—the sea so encircled us! Dying
+immediately upon leaving the water from
+which they fled, they turned from a clear brown,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</span>
+or what Mr. Kingsley would call a “pellucid
+gray,” to bright brick-color, like a boiled lobster,
+and many a time I have swept them up in ruddy
+heaps; they looked like bits of coral.</p>
+
+<p>I remember in the spring kneeling on the
+ground to seek the first blades of grass that
+pricked through the soil, and bringing them into
+the house to study and wonder over. Better than
+a shop full of toys they were to me! Whence
+came their color? How did they draw their
+sweet, refreshing tint from the brown earth, or the
+limpid air, or the white light? Chemistry was
+not at hand to answer me, and all her wisdom
+would not have dispelled the wonder. Later the
+little scarlet pimpernel charmed me. It seemed
+more than a flower; it was like a human thing. I
+knew it by its homely name of poor-man’s weather-glass.
+It was so much wiser than I, for, when the
+sky was yet without a cloud, softly it clasped its
+small red petals together, folding its golden heart
+in safety from the shower that was sure to come!
+How could it know so much? Here is a question
+science cannot answer. The pimpernel grows
+everywhere about the islands, in every cleft and
+cranny where a suspicion of sustenance for its
+slender root can lodge; and it is one of the most
+exquisite of flowers, so rich in color, so quaint and<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</span>
+dainty in its method of growth. I never knew
+its silent warning fail. I wondered much how
+every flower knew what to do and to be; why the
+morning-glory didn’t forget sometimes, and bear
+a cluster of elder-bloom, or the elder hang out
+pennons of gold and purple like the iris, or the
+golden-rod suddenly blaze out a scarlet plume, the
+color of the pimpernel, was a mystery to my
+childish thought. And why did the sweet wild
+primrose wait till after sunset to unclose its pale
+yellow buds; why did it unlock its treasure of
+rich perfume to the night alone? Few flowers
+bloomed for me upon the lonesome rock; but I
+made the most of all I had, and neither knew of
+nor desired more. Ah, how beautiful they were!
+Tiny stars of crimson sorrel threaded on their
+long brown stems; the blackberry blossoms in
+bridal white; the surprise of the blue-eyed grass;
+the crowfoot flowers, like drops of yellow gold
+spilt about among the short grass and over the
+moss; the rich, blue-purple beach-pea, the sweet,
+spiked germander, and the homely, delightful yarrow
+that grows thickly on all the islands. Sometimes
+its broad clusters of dull white bloom are
+stained a lovely reddish-purple, as if with the
+light of sunset. I never saw it colored so elsewhere.
+Quantities of slender, wide-spreading<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</span>
+mustard-bushes grew about the house; their delicate
+flowers were like fragrant golden clouds.
+Dandelions, buttercups, and clover were not denied
+to us; though we had no daisies nor violets
+nor wild roses, no asters, but gorgeous spikes of
+golden-rod, and wonderful wild morning-glories,
+whose long, pale, ivory buds I used to find in the
+twilight, glimmering among the dark leaves, waiting
+for the touch of dawn to unfold and become
+each an exquisite incarnate blush,—the perfect
+color of a South Sea shell. They ran wild, knotting
+and twisting about the rocks, and smothering
+the loose boulders in the gorges with lush green
+leaves and pink blossoms.</p>
+
+<p>Many a summer morning have I crept out of
+the still house before any one was awake, and,
+wrapping myself closely from the chill wind of
+dawn, climbed to the top of the high cliff called
+the Head to watch the sunrise. Pale grew the
+lighthouse flame before the broadening day as,
+nestled in a crevice at the cliff’s edge, I watched
+the shadows draw away and morning break. Facing
+the east and south, with all the Atlantic before
+me, what happiness was mine as the deepening rose-color
+flushed the delicate cloudflocks that dappled
+the sky, where the gulls soared, rosy too, while the
+calm sea blushed beneath. Or perhaps it was a<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</span>
+cloudless sunrise with a sky of orange-red, and the
+sea-line silver-blue against it, peaceful as heaven.
+Infinite variety of beauty always awaited me, and
+filled me with an absorbing, unreasoning joy such
+as makes the song-sparrow sing,—a sense of perfect
+bliss. Coming back in the sunshine, the morning-glories
+would lift up their faces, all awake, to
+my adoring gaze. Like countless rosy trumpets
+sometimes I thought they were, tossed everywhere
+about the rocks, turned up to the sky, or drooping
+toward the ground, or looking east, west,
+north, south, in silent loveliness. It seemed as
+if they had gathered the peace of the golden morning
+in their still depths even as my heart had
+gathered it.</p>
+
+<p>In some of those matchless summer mornings
+when I went out to milk the little dun cow, it was
+hardly possible to go farther than the doorstep,
+for pure wonder, as I looked abroad at the sea
+lying still, like a vast, round mirror, the tide drawn
+away from the rich brown rocks, a sail or two
+asleep in the calm, not a sound abroad except a
+few bird voices; dew lying like jewel-dust sifted
+over everything,—diamond and ruby, sapphire,
+topaz, and amethyst, flashing out of the emerald
+deeps of the tufted grass or from the bending
+tops. Looking over to the mainland, I could<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</span>
+dimly discern in the level sunshine the depths of
+glowing green woods faintly revealed in the distance,
+fold beyond fold of hill and valley thickly
+clothed with the summer’s splendor. But my
+handful of grass was more precious to me than
+miles of green fields, and I was led to consider
+every blade where there were so few. Not long
+ago I had watched them piercing the ground toward
+the light; now, how strong in their slender grace
+were these stems, how perfect the poise of the
+heavy heads that waved with such harmony of
+movement in the faintest breeze! And I noticed
+at mid-day when the dew was dry, where the tall,
+blossoming spears stood in graceful companies
+that, before they grew purple, brown, and ripe,
+when they began to blossom, they put out first a
+downy ring of pollen in tiny, yellow rays, held by
+an almost invisible thread, which stood out like an
+aureole from each slow-waving head,—a fairy-like
+effect. On Seavey’s Island (united to ours by a
+narrow beach covered at high tide with contending
+waves) grew one single root of fern, the only one
+within the circle of my little world. It was safe
+in a deep cleft, but I was in perpetual anxiety lest
+my little cow, going there daily to pasture, should
+leave her cropping of the grass and eat it up some
+day. Poor little cow! One night she did not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</span>
+come home to be milked as usual, and on going to
+seek her we found she had caught one foot in a
+crevice and twisted her hoof entirely off! That
+was a calamity; for we were forced to summon our
+neighbors and have her killed on the spot.</p>
+
+<p>I had a scrap of garden, literally not more than
+a yard square, wherein grew only African marigolds,
+rich in color as barbaric gold. I knew nothing
+of John Keats at that time,—poor Keats,
+“who told Severn that he thought his intensest
+pleasure in life had been to watch the growth of
+flowers,”—but I am sure he never felt their beauty
+more devoutly than the little, half-savage being
+who knelt, like a fire-worshipper, to watch the unfolding
+of those golden disks. When, later, the
+“brave new world” of poets was opened to me,
+with what power those glowing lines of his went
+straight to my heart,</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“Open afresh your rounds of starry folds,</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">Ye ardent marigolds!”</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p>All flowers had for me such human interest, they
+were so dear and precious, I hardly liked to gather
+them, and when they were withered, I carried them
+all to one place and laid them tenderly together,
+and never liked to pass the spot where they were
+hidden.</p>
+
+<p>Once or twice every year came the black,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</span>
+lumbering old “oil-schooner” that brought supplies
+for the lighthouse, and the inspector, who gravely
+examined everything, to see if all was in order.
+He left stacks of clear red and white glass chimneys
+for the lamps, and several doe-skins for polishing
+the great, silver-lined copper reflectors, large
+bundles of wicks, and various pairs of scissors for
+trimming them, heavy black casks of ill-perfumed
+whale-oil, and other things, which were all stowed in
+the round, dimly-lighted rooms of the tower. Very
+awe-struck, we children always crept into corners,
+and whispered and watched the intruders till they
+embarked in their ancient, clumsy vessel, and,
+hoisting their dark, weather-stained sails, bore
+slowly away again. About ten years ago that old
+white lighthouse was taken away, and a new, perpendicular
+brick tower built in its place. The
+lantern, with its fifteen lamps, ten golden and five
+red, gave place to Fresnel’s powerful single burner,
+or, rather, three burners in one, enclosed in its case
+of prisms. The old lighthouse was by far the most
+picturesque; but perhaps the new one is more effective,
+the light being, undoubtedly, more powerful.</p>
+
+<p>Often, in pleasant days, the head of the family
+sailed away to visit the other islands, sometimes
+taking the children with him, oftener going alone,
+frequently not returning till after dark. The landing<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</span>
+at White Island is so dangerous that the greatest
+care is requisite, if there is any sea running, to
+get ashore in safety. Two long and very solid timbers
+about three feet apart are laid from the boat-house
+to low-water mark, and between those timbers
+the boat’s bow must be accurately steered; if
+she goes to the right or the left, woe to her crew
+unless the sea is calm! Safely lodged in the slip,
+as it is called, she is drawn up into the boat-house
+by a capstan, and fastened securely. The lighthouse
+gave no ray to the dark rock below it; sending
+its beams far out to sea, it left us at its foot in
+greater darkness for its lofty light. So when the
+boat was out late, in soft, moonless summer nights,
+I used to light a lantern, and, going down to the
+water’s edge, take my station between the timbers
+of the slip, and, with the lantern at my feet, sit
+waiting in the darkness, quite content, knowing
+my little star was watched for, and that the safety
+of the boat depended in a great measure upon it.
+How sweet the summer wind blew, how softly
+plashed the water round me, how refreshing was
+the odor of the sparkling brine! High above, the
+lighthouse rays streamed out into the humid dark,
+and the cottage windows were ruddy from the glow
+within. I felt so much a part of the Lord’s
+universe, I was no more afraid of the dark than the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</span>
+waves or winds; but I was glad to hear at last the
+creaking of the mast and the rattling of the rowlocks
+as the boat approached; and, while yet she
+was far off, the lighthouse touched her one large
+sail into sight, so that I knew she was nearing me,
+and shouted, listening for the reply that came so
+blithely back to me over the water.</p>
+
+<p>Unafraid, too, we watched the summer tempests,
+and listened to the deep, melodious thunder rolling
+away over the rain-calmed ocean. The lightning
+played over the iron rods that ran from the
+lighthouse-top down into the sea. Where it lay on
+the sharp ridgepole of the long, covered walk that
+spanned the gorge, the strange fire ran up the
+spikes that were set at equal distances, and burnt
+like pale flame from their tips. It was fine indeed
+from the lighthouse itself to watch the storm come
+rushing over the sea and ingulf us in our helplessness.
+How the rain weltered down over the
+great panes of plate glass,—floods of sweet, fresh
+water that poured off the rocks and mingled with
+the bitter brine. I wondered why the fresh floods
+never made the salt sea any sweeter. Those pale
+flames that we beheld burning from the spikes of
+the lightning-rod, I suppose were identical with the
+St. Elmo’s fire that I have since seen described as
+haunting the spars of ships in thunder-storms.<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</span>
+And here I am reminded of a story told by some
+gentlemen visiting Appledore sixteen or eighteen
+years ago. They started from Portsmouth for the
+Shoals in a whaleboat, one evening in summer,
+with a native Star-Islander, Richard Randall by
+name, to manage the boat. They had sailed about
+half the distance, when they were surprised at
+seeing a large ball of fire, like a rising moon, rolling
+toward them over the sea from the south.
+They watched it eagerly as it bore down upon
+them, and, veering off, went east of them at some
+little distance, and then passed astern, and there,
+of course, they expected to lose sight of it; but
+while they were marvelling and speculating, it
+altered its course, and suddenly began to near
+them, coming back upon its track against the
+wind and steadily following in their wake. This
+was too much for the native Shoaler. He took
+off his jacket and turned it inside out to exorcise
+the fiend, and lo, the apparition most certainly
+disappeared! We heard the excited account of
+the strange gentlemen and witnessed the holy horror
+of the boatman on the occasion; but no one
+could imagine what had set the globe of fire rolling
+across the sea. Some one suggested that it
+might be an exhalation, a phosphorescent light,
+from the decaying body of some dead fish; but in<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</span>
+that case it must have been taken in tow by some
+living finny creature, else how could it have sailed
+straight “into the teeth of the wind”? It was
+never satisfactorily accounted for, and must remain
+a mystery.</p>
+
+<p>One autumn at White Island our little boat had
+been to Portsmouth for provisions, etc. With the
+spy-glass we watched her returning, beating against
+the head wind. The day was bright, but there
+had been a storm at sea, and the breakers rolled
+and roared about us. The process of “beating”
+is so tedious that, though the boat had started in
+the morning, the sun was sending long yellow light
+from the west before it reached the island. There
+was no cessation in those resistless billows that
+rolled from the Devil’s Rock upon the slip; but
+still the little craft sailed on, striving to reach
+the landing. The hand at the tiller was firm, but
+a huge wave swept suddenly in, swerving the boat
+to the left of the slip, and in a moment she was
+overturned and flung upon the rocks, and her only
+occupant tossed high upon the beach, safe except
+for a few bruises; but what a moment of terror it
+was for us all, who saw and could not save! All
+the freight was lost except a roll of iron wire and
+a barrel of walnuts. These were spread on the
+floor of an unoccupied eastern chamber in the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</span>
+cottage to dry. And they did dry; but before they
+were gathered up came a terrible storm from the
+southeast. It raved and tore at lighthouse and
+cottage; the sea broke into the windows of that
+eastern chamber where the walnuts lay, and washed
+them out till they came dancing down the stairs
+in briny foam! The sea broke the windows of the
+house several times during our stay at the lighthouse.
+Everything shook so violently from the
+concussion of the breakers, that dishes on the
+closet shelves fell to the floor, and one member of
+the family was at first always made sea-sick in
+storms, by the tremor and deafening confusion.
+One night when, from the southeast, the very soul
+of chaos seemed to have been let loose upon the
+world, the whole ponderous “walk” (the covered
+bridge that connected the house and lighthouse)
+was carried thundering down the gorge and dragged
+out into the raging sea.</p>
+
+<p>It was a distressing situation for us,—cut off
+from the precious light that must be kept alive;
+for the breakers were tearing through the gorge
+so that no living thing could climb across. But
+the tide could not resist the mighty impulse
+that drew it down; it was forced to obey the still
+voice that bade it ebb; all swollen and raging and
+towering as it was, slowly and surely, at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</span>
+appointed time, it sank away from our rock, so that,
+between the billows that still strove to clutch at
+the white, silent, golden-crowned tower, one could
+creep across, and scale the height, and wind up
+the machinery that kept the great clustered light
+revolving till the gray daylight broke to extinguish
+it.</p>
+
+<p>I often wondered how it was possible for the sea-birds
+to live through such storms as these. But,
+when one could see at all, the gulls were always
+soaring, in the wildest tumult, and the stormy
+petrels half flying, half swimming in the hollows
+of the waves.</p>
+
+<p>Would it were possible to describe the beauty
+of the calm that followed such tempests! The
+long lines of silver foam that streaked the tranquil
+blue, the “tender-curving lines of creamy spray”
+along the shore, the clear-washed sky, the peaceful
+yellow light, the mellow breakers murmuring
+slumberously!</p>
+
+<p>Of all the storms our childish eyes watched
+with delighted awe, one thunder-storm remains
+fixed in my memory. Late in an August afternoon
+it rolled its awful clouds to the zenith, and,
+after the tumult had subsided, spread its lightened
+vapors in an under-roof of gray over all the sky.
+Presently this solemn gray lid was lifted at its<span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</span>
+western edge, and an insufferable splendor streamed
+across the world from the sinking sun. The
+whole heaven was in a blaze of scarlet, across
+which sprang a rainbow unbroken to the topmost
+clouds, “with its seven perfect colors chorded in a
+triumph” against the flaming background; the
+sea answered the sky’s rich blush, and the gray
+rocks lay drowned in melancholy purple. I hid
+my face from the glory,—it was too much to
+bear. Ever I longed to <i>speak</i> these things that
+made life so sweet, to speak the wind, the cloud,
+the bird’s flight, the sea’s murmur. A vain longing!
+I might as well have sighed for the mighty
+pencil of Michael Angelo to wield in my impotent
+child’s hand. Better to “hush and bless one’s
+self with silence”; but ever the wish grew. Facing
+the July sunsets, deep red and golden through
+and through, or watching the summer northern
+lights,—battalions of brilliant streamers advancing
+and retreating, shooting upward to the zenith,
+and glowing like fiery veils before the stars; or
+when the fog-bow spanned the silver mist of
+morning, or the earth and sea lay shimmering in a
+golden haze of noon; in storm or calm, by day or
+night, the manifold aspects of Nature held me
+and swayed all my thoughts until it was impossible
+to be silent any longer, and I was fain to<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</span>
+mingle my voice with her myriad voices, only aspiring
+to be in accord with the Infinite harmony,
+however feeble and broken the notes might be.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>It has been my good fortune to witness but few
+wrecks at the Shoals. The disasters of which we
+hear faintly from the past were many and dreadful;
+but since the building of the lighthouse on
+White Island, and also on Boone Island (which
+seems like a neighbor, though fifteen miles distant),
+the danger of the place is much lessened.
+A resident of Star Island told me of a wreck which
+took place forty-seven years ago, during a heavy
+storm from the eastward. It blew so that all the
+doors in the house opened as fast as they shut
+them, and in the night a vessel drove against
+“Hog Island Head,” which fronts the village on
+Star. She went to pieces utterly. In the morning
+the islanders perceived the beach at Londoners
+heaped with some kind of drift; they could not
+make out what it was, but, as soon as the sea subsided,
+went to examine and found a mass of
+oranges and picture-frames, with which the vessel
+had been freighted. Not a soul was saved. “She
+struck with such force that she drove a large
+spike out of her forefoot” into a crevice in the
+rock, which was plainly to be seen till a few years<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</span>
+ago. My informant also told me that she remembered
+the wreck of the Sagunto, in 1813; that the
+beaches were strewn with “almond-nuts” long after;
+and that she picked up curiously embroidered vests
+and “work-bags” in all directions along the shores.</p>
+
+<p>During a storm in 1839, while living at White
+Island, we were startled by the heavy booming of
+guns through the roar of the tempest,—a sound
+that drew nearer and nearer, till at last, through a
+sudden break in the mist and spray, we saw the
+heavily rolling hull of a large vessel driving by, to
+her sure destruction, toward the coast. It was as
+if the wind had torn the vapor apart on purpose
+to show us this piteous sight; and I well remember
+the hand on my shoulder which held me firmly,
+shuddering child that I was, and forced me to look
+in spite of myself. What a day of pain it was!
+how dreadful the sound of those signal-guns, and
+how much more dreadful the certainty, when they
+ceased, that all was over! We learned afterward
+that it was the brig Pocahontas, homeward bound
+from Spain, and that the vessel and all her crew
+were lost. In later years a few coasters and fishermen
+have gone ashore at the islands, generally
+upon the hidden ledges at Duck. Many of these
+have been loaded with lime,—a most perilous
+freight; for as soon as the water touches it there is<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</span>
+a double danger; and between fire and water there
+is little chance of escape.</p>
+
+<p>I wish I could recall the graphic language of a
+Star Islander who described to me a wreck of this
+kind. The islanders saw at sunrise, one bitter
+winter day, a schooner ashore among the dreadful
+ledges at Duck Island, and, though the wind blew
+half a gale, they took their boats and ran down
+toward her before the northwester. Smoke and
+steam and spray and flame were rising from her
+and about her when they reached the spot. Only
+one man was found alive. From the davits, hanging
+head downward, was the lifeless body of a
+fair-haired boy of sixteen or thereabouts. The
+breakers swept him to and fro, and, drawing away,
+left his long yellow hair dripping with the freezing
+brine. The mate’s story was that he had gone
+to unfasten the boat which hung at the stern, that
+a sea had struck him, and he had fallen headforemost
+with his feet entangled in the ropes of the
+davits. He was the only son of his mother, who
+was a widow. They carried his body home to that
+most unhappy mother. The vessel was a total
+loss, with all on board, except the mate.</p>
+
+<p>One winter night at Appledore when it was
+blowing very hard northwest, with a clear sky,
+we were wakened by a violent knocking at the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</span>
+door. So unaccustomed a sound, at that time of
+night too, was enough to startle us all, and very
+much amazed we were. The door was opened to
+admit four or five shipwrecked men, whose hands,
+feet, and ears were all frozen stiff,—pitiable objects
+they were indeed. Their vessel had struck
+full on York Ledge, a rock lying off the coast
+of Maine far east of us, and they had taken to
+the boat and strove to make a landing on the
+coast; but the wind blew off shore so fiercely
+they failed in their attempt, their hands became
+useless from the cold, they dropped their oars, and,
+half steering with one of the seats of the boat,
+managed to reach Appledore, more dead than
+alive. They were obliged to remain there several
+days before finding an opportunity of going on
+shore, the gale was so furious. Next morning, in the
+glare of the winter sunshine, we saw their vessel,
+still with all sail set, standing upright upon the
+ledge,—a white column looming far away. One
+of the most hideous experiences I have heard befell
+a young Norwegian now living at the Shoals.
+He and a young companion came out from Portsmouth
+to set their trawl, in the winter fishing,
+two years ago. Before they reached the island,
+came a sudden squall of wind and snow, chilling
+and blinding. In a few moments they knew not<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</span>
+where they were, and the wind continued to sweep
+them away. Presently they found themselves
+under the lee of White Island Head; they threw
+out the road-lines of their trawl, in desperate hope
+that they might hold the boat till the squall
+abated. The keepers at the lighthouse saw the
+poor fellows, but were powerless to help them.
+Alas! the road-lines soon broke, and the little boat
+was swept off again, they knew not whither.
+Night came down upon them, tossed on that terrible
+black sea; the snow ceased, the clouds flew
+before the deadly cold northwest wind, the thermometer
+sank below zero. One of the men died
+before morning; the other, alone with the dead
+man, was still driven on and on before the pitiless
+gale. He had no cap nor mittens; had lost both.
+He bailed the boat incessantly, for the sea broke
+over him the livelong time. He told me the story
+himself. He looked down at the awful face of his
+dead friend and thought “how soon he should be
+like him”; but still he never ceased bailing,—it
+was all he could do. Before night he passed Cape
+Cod and knew it as he rushed by. Another unspeakably
+awful night, and the gale abated no whit.
+Next morning he was almost gone from cold, fatigue,
+and hunger. His eyes were so swollen he
+could hardly see; but afar off, shining whiter than<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</span>
+silver in the sun, the sails of a large schooner appeared
+at the edge of the fearful wilderness. He
+managed to hoist a bit of old canvas on an oar.
+He was then not far from Holmes’ Hole, nearly two
+hundred miles from the Shoals! The schooner saw
+it and bore down for him, but the sea was running
+so high that he expected to be swamped every
+instant. As she swept past, they threw from the
+deck a rope with a loop at the end, tied with a
+bow-line knot that would not slip. It caught him
+over the head, and clutching it at his throat with
+both hands, in an instant he found himself in the
+sea among the ice-cold, furious waves, drawn toward
+the vessel with all the strength of her crew. Just
+before he emerged, he heard the captain shout,
+“We’ve lost him!” Ah the bitter moment!
+For a horrible fear struck through him that they
+might lose their hold an instant on the rope, and
+then he knew it would be all over. But they
+saved him. The boat with the dead man in it, all
+alone, went tossing, heaven knows where.</p>
+
+<p>The great equinoctial gale of September 8, 1869,
+was very severe at the islands. One schooner went
+ashore on Cannon Point at Appledore, and was a
+complete wreck, though no lives were lost. She
+was lying in “The Roads,” between Star and Appledore,
+safely moored, her crew supposed; but she<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</span>
+dragged moorings, anchors, everything with which
+they strove to save her, and crashed on the rocks,
+breaking up like an eggshell. Various buildings
+were blown down; windows at Appledore were
+blown in, in some cases sash and all, in others the
+glass was smashed as if the wind had thrust an
+arm through.</p>
+
+<p>At about seven o’clock in the evening a great
+copper-colored arch spanned the black sky from
+west to east. The gale was then at its height. After
+that lurid bow dissolved, flying northward in wild,
+scattered fragments, the wind abated, and we began
+to take breath again. A man at Star, on the
+edge of the storm, rowed out in his dory to make
+more secure a larger boat moored at a little distance.
+Down came the hurricane and caught him,
+and whirled him away like a dead leaf on the surface
+of the sea. He gave himself up for lost, of
+course; so did his friends. But he fastened himself
+with ropes to the inside of the boat, and, tossing
+from billow to billow, bailed for dear life the whole
+night long. Toward morning, the wind lulling very
+considerably, he was carried along the coast of
+Maine, and landed in York, a short distance from
+his father’s home, and quietly walked into the
+house and joined the family at breakfast; then
+took the cars for Portsmouth, and astounded the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</span>
+whole Shoals settlement by appearing in the
+steamer Appledore in time for dinner. Everybody
+supposed him, without a shadow of doubt, to be at
+the bottom of the sea.</p>
+
+<p>Boone Island is the forlornest place that can be
+imagined. The Isles of Shoals, barren as they
+are, seem like Gardens of Eden in comparison. I
+chanced to hear last summer of a person who had
+been born and brought up there; he described
+the loneliness as something absolutely fearful, and
+declared it had pursued him all through his life.
+He lived there till fourteen or fifteen years old,
+when his family moved to York. While living
+on the island he discovered some human remains
+which had lain there thirty years. A carpenter
+and his assistants, having finished some building,
+were capsized in getting off, and all were drowned,
+except the master. One body floated to Plum
+Island at the mouth of the Merrimack; the others
+the master secured, made a box for them,—all
+alone the while,—and buried them in a cleft and
+covered them with stones. These stones the sea
+washed away, and, thirty years after they were
+buried, the boy found the bones, which were removed
+to York and there buried again. It was
+on board a steamer bound to Bangor, that the man
+told his story. Boone Island Light was shining<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</span>
+in the distance. He spoke with bitterness of his
+life in that terrible solitude, and of “the loneliness
+which had pursued him ever since.” All his relatives
+were dead, he said, and he had no human
+tie in the wide world except his wife. He ended
+by anathematizing all islands, and, vanishing into
+the darkness, was not to be found again; nor did
+his name or any trace of him transpire, though
+he was sought for in the morning all about the
+vessel.</p>
+
+<p>One of the most shocking stories of shipwreck
+I remember to have heard is that of the Nottingham
+Galley, wrecked on this island in the year
+1710. There is a narrative of this shipwreck existing,
+written by “John Deane, then commander
+of said Galley, but for many years after his Majesty’s
+consul for the ports of Flanders, residing at
+Ostend,” printed in 1762. The ship, of one hundred
+and twenty tons, carrying ten guns, with a
+crew of fourteen men, loaded partly in England and
+partly in Ireland, and sailed for Boston on the 25th
+of September, 1710. She made land on the 11th
+of December, and was wrecked on that fatal rock.
+At first the unhappy crew “treated each other
+with kindness and condolence, and prayed to God
+for relief.” The only things saved from the wreck
+were a bit of canvas and half a cheese. The men<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</span>
+made a triangular tent of the bit of canvas, and
+all lay close together beneath it, sideways; none
+could turn without the general concurrence: they
+turned once in two hours upon public notice.
+They had no fire, and lived upon kelp and rockweed,
+and mussels, three a day to a man. Starvation
+and suffering soon produced a curious loss
+of memory. The fourth day the cook died. When
+they had been there upwards of a week, they saw
+three sails in the southwest, but no boat came
+near them. They built a rude boat of such materials
+as they could gather from the wreck, but she
+was lost in launching. One of the men, a Swede,
+is particularly mentioned; he seems to have been
+full of energy; with help from the others he built
+a raft; in launching this they overset it. Again
+they saw a sail, this time coming out from the
+Piscataqua River; it was soon out of sight. The
+Swede was determined to make an effort to reach
+the shore, and persuaded another man to make
+the attempt with him. At sunset they were seen
+half-way to the land; the raft was found on shore
+with the body of one man; the Swede was never
+seen more. A hide was thrown on the rocks at
+Boone Island by the sea; this the poor sailors ate
+raw, minced. About the end of December the
+carpenter died, and, driven to madness by hunger,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</span>
+they devoured the flesh of their dead comrade.
+The captain, being the strongest of the party,
+dragged the body away and hid it, and dealt small
+portions of it daily to the men. Immediately
+their dispositions underwent a horrible change.
+They became fierce and reckless, and were the most
+pitiable objects of despair, when, on January 4th,
+1711, they were discovered and taken off. It was
+evening when they entered the Piscataqua River,
+and eight o’clock when they landed. Discovering
+a house through the darkness, the master rushed
+into it, frightening the gentlewoman and children
+desperately, and, making his way to the kitchen,
+snatched the pot wherein some food was cooking
+off the fire, and began to eat voraciously. This
+old record mentions John Plaisted and John Wentworth
+as being most “forward in benevolence” to
+these poor fellows.</p>
+
+<p>When visiting the island for the first time, a
+few years ago, I was shown the shallow gorge
+where the unfortunates tried to shelter themselves.
+It was the serenest of summer days; everything
+smiled and shone as I stood looking down into that
+rocky hollow. Near by the lighthouse sprang—a
+splendid piece of masonry—over a hundred
+feet into the air, to hold its warning aloft. About
+its base some gentle thought had caused morning-glories<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</span>
+to climb and unfold their violet, white, and
+rosy bells against the smooth, dark stone. I
+thought I had never seen flowers so beautiful.
+There was hardly a handful of grass on the island,
+hardly soil enough to hold a root; therefore it
+seemed the more wonderful to behold this lovely
+apparition. With my mind full of the story of
+the Nottingham Galley, I looked at the delicate
+bells, the cool green leaves, the whole airy grace
+of the wandering vines, and it was as if a hand
+were stretched out to pluck me away from the
+awful questions never to be answered this side the
+grave, that pressed so heavily while I thought how
+poor humanity had here suffered the utmost misery
+that it is possible to endure.</p>
+
+<p>The aspect of this island from the Shoals is
+very striking, so lonely it lies on the eastern horizon,
+its tall lighthouse like a slender column against
+the sky. It is easily mistaken for the smokestack
+of a steamer by unaccustomed eyes, and
+sometimes the watcher most familiar with its appearance
+can hardly distinguish it from the distant
+white sails that steal by it, to and fro. Sometimes
+it looms colossal in the mirage of summer; in
+winter it lies blurred and ghostly at the edge of
+chilly sea and pallid sky. In the sad, strange
+light of winter sunsets, its faithful star blazes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</span>
+suddenly from the darkening east, and sends a friendly
+ray across to its neighbor at the Shoals, waiting as
+it also waits, ice-bound, storm-swept, and solitary,
+for gentler days to come. And “winter’s rains
+and ruins” have an end at last.</p>
+
+<p>In the latter part of February, after ten days
+perhaps of the northwester, bringing across to the
+islands all the chill of the snow-covered hills of
+the continent, some happy evening it dies into a
+reasonable breeze, and, while the sun sets, you
+climb the snowy height, and sweep with your eyes
+the whole circle of the horizon, with nothing to
+impede the view. Ah! how sad it looks in the
+dying light! Star Island close by with its silent
+little village and the sails of belated fishing-boats
+hurrying in over the dark water to the moorings;
+White Island afar off “kindling its great red star”;
+on every side the long, bleached points of granite
+stretching out into the sea, so cold and bleak; the
+line of coast, sad purple; and the few schooners
+leaden and gray in the distance. Yet there is a
+hopeful glow where the sun went down, suggestive
+of the spring; and before the ruddy sweetness of
+the western sky the melancholy east is flushed
+with violet, and up into the delicious color rolls a
+gradual moon, mellow and golden as in harvest-time,
+while high above her the great star Jupiter<span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</span>
+begins to glitter clear. On such an evening some
+subtle influence of the coming spring steals to
+the heart, and eyes that have watched the winter
+skies so patiently grow wistful with the thought
+of summer days to come. On shore in these last
+weeks of winter one becomes aware, by various
+delicate tokens, of the beautiful change at hand,—by
+the deepening of the golden willow wands
+into a more living color, and by their silvery buds,
+which in favored spots burst the brown sheaths;
+by the reddening of bare maple-trees, as if with
+promise of future crimson flowers; by the sweet
+cry of the returning bluebird; by the alders at the
+river’s edge. If the season is mild, the catkins
+begin to unwind their tawny tresses in the first
+weeks of March. But here are no trees, and no
+bluebirds come till April. Perhaps some day the
+delightful clangor of the wild geese is heard, and
+looking upward, lo! the long, floating ribbon
+streaming northward across the sky. What joy
+they bring to hearts so weary with waiting!
+Truly a wondrous content is shaken down with
+their wild clamors out of the cloudy heights, and
+a courage and vigor lurk in these strong voices
+that touch the listener with something better
+than gladness, while he traces eagerly the wavering
+lines that seek the north with steady, measured
+flight.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</span></p>
+
+<p>Gradually the bitter winds abate; early in March
+the first flocks of crows arrive, and they soar finely
+above the coves, and perch on the flukes of
+stranded anchors or the tops of kellock-sticks that
+lie about the water’s edge. They are most welcome,
+for they are never seen in winter; and
+pleasant it is to watch them beating their black,
+ragged pinions in the blue, while the gulls swim
+on beyond them serenely, shining still whiter for
+their sable color. No other birds come till about
+the 27th of March, and then all at once the islands
+are alive with song-sparrows, and these sing
+from morning till night so beautifully that dull
+and weary indeed must be the mortal who can resist
+the charm of their fresh music. There is a
+matchless sweetness and good cheer in this brave
+bird. The nightingale singing with its breast
+against a thorn may be divine; yet would I turn
+away from its tender melody to listen to the
+fresh, cheerful, healthy song of this dauntless and
+happy little creature. They come in flocks to be
+fed every morning the whole summer long, tame
+and charming, with their warm brown and gray
+feathers, striped and freaked with wood-color, and
+little brown knots at each pretty throat! They
+build their nests, and remain till the snow falls; frequently
+they remain all winter; sometimes they<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</span>
+come into the house for shelter; once one fluttered
+in and entered the canaries’ cage voluntarily, and
+stayed there singing like a voice from heaven all
+winter. Robins and blackbirds appear with the
+sparrows; a few blackbirds build and remain; the
+robins, finding no trees, flit across to the mainland.
+Yellow-birds and kingbirds occasionally build here,
+but very rarely. By the first of April the snow is
+gone, and our bit of earth is free from that dead
+white mask. How lovely then the gentle neutral
+tints of tawny intervals of dead grass and brown
+bushes and varying stone appear, set in the living
+sea! There is hardly a square foot of the bare
+rock that isn’t precious for its soft coloring; and
+freshly beautiful are the uncovered lichens that
+with patient fingering have ornamented the
+rough surfaces with their wonderful embroideries.
+They flourish with the greatest vigor by the sea;
+whole houses at Star used to be covered with the
+orange-colored variety, and I have noticed the
+same thing in the pretty fishing village of Newcastle
+and on some of the old buildings by the
+river-side in sleepy Portsmouth city. Through
+April the weather softens daily, and by the 20th
+come gray, quiet days with mild northeast wind;
+in the hollows the grass has greened, and now the
+gentle color seems to brim over and spread out<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</span>
+upon the ground in faint and fainter gradations.
+A refreshing odor springs from the moist earth,
+from the short, sweet turf which the cattle crop so
+gladly,—a musky fragrance unlike that of inland
+pastures; and with this is mingled the pure sea-breeze,—a
+most reviving combination. The turfy
+gorges, boulder-strewn and still, remind one of
+Alexander Smith’s descriptions of his summer in
+Skye, of those quiet, lonely glens,—just such a
+grassy carpet was spread in their hollows. By the
+23d of April come the first swallow and flocks of
+martins, golden-winged and downy woodpeckers,
+the tiny, ruby-crowned wren, and troops of many
+other kinds of birds; kingfishers that perch on
+stranded kellocks, little nuthatches that peck
+among the shingles for hidden spiders, and gladden
+the morning with sweet, quaint cries, so busy
+and bright and friendly! All these tarry only
+awhile in their passage to the mainland.</p>
+
+<p>But though the birds come and the sky has relented
+and grown tender with its melting clouds,
+the weather in New England has a fashion of
+leaping back into midwinter in the space of an
+hour, and all at once comes half a hurricane from
+the northwest, charged with the breath of all the
+remaining snow-heaps on the far mountain
+ranges,—a “white-sea roarin’ wind” that takes<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</span>
+you back to January. In the afternoon, through
+the cold, transparent heaven, a pale half-moon
+glides slowly over; there is a splendor of wild
+clouds at sunset, dusk heaps with scarlet fringes,
+scattered flecks of flame in a clear crimson air
+above the fallen sun; then cold moonlight over
+the black sea, with the flash and gleam of white
+waves the whole night long.</p>
+
+<p>But the potent spirit of the spring triumphs at
+last. When the sun in its journey north passes a
+certain group of lofty pine-trees standing out distinctly
+against the sky on Breakfast Hill in Greenland,
+New Hampshire, which lies midway in the
+coast line, then the Shoalers are happy in the
+conviction that there will be “settled weather”;
+and they put no trust in any relenting of the
+elements before that time. After this there soon
+come days when to be alive is quite enough joy,—days
+when it is bliss only to watch and feel how</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">“God renews</span><br>
+<span style="margin-left: 6em;">His ancient rapture,”—</span><br>
+</p>
+
+<p>days when the sea lies, colored like a turquoise,
+blue and still, and from the south a band of warm,
+gray-purple haze steals down on the horizon like
+an encircling arm about the happy world. The
+lightest film encroaches upon the sea, only made
+perceptible by the shimmering of far-off sails. A<span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</span>
+kind of bloom, inexpressibly lovely, softens over
+the white canvas of nearer vessels, like a delicate
+veil. There is a fascination in the motion of
+these slender schooners, a wondrous grace, as they
+glide before a gentle wind, slowly bowing, bending,
+turning, with curving canvas just filled with the
+breeze, and shadows falling soft from sail to sail.
+They are all so picturesque, so suggestive, from
+the small, tanned spritsail some young islander
+spreads to flit to and fro among the rocks and
+ledges, to the stately column of canvas that bears
+the great ship round the world. The variety of
+their aspects is endless and ever beautiful, whether
+you watch them from the lighthouse-top, dreaming
+afar on the horizon, or at the water’s edge;
+whether they are drowned in the flood of sunshine
+on the waves, or glide darkly through the
+track of the moonlight, or fly toward you full of
+promise, wing and wing, like some magnificent
+bird, or steal away reddening in the sunset as if to</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“Sink with all you love below the verge.”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>I know nothing sadder than their aspect in the
+light of the winter sunsets, as they vanish in
+the cold east, blushing for a fleeting moment,
+sweetly, faintly, under the last touch of the dropping
+day. To a child’s imagination they are all
+full of charm and of mystery, freighted with<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</span>
+heavenly dreams. “The thoughts of youth are
+long, long thoughts,” and the watching of the
+sails filled the lonely, lovely summer days of one
+young Shoaler with joy enough and to spare.
+How many pictures linger in my mind,—splendid,
+stately apparitions of full-rigged, slender schooners,
+passing very near early in the breezy mornings
+of spring, every inch of canvas in a blaze of white
+light, and the whole vessel alive from keel to topmast.
+And well I remember on soft May evenings
+how they came dropping down from Cape Ann,
+while the sunset, streaming through low bars of
+cloud, just touched them with pale gold, and made
+them half luminous and altogether lovely; and
+how the fog clung in silver strips to the dark,
+wet sails of vessels lying becalmed when all the
+air about was clear and free from mist; how the
+mackerel fleet surrounded the islands, five hundred
+craft sometimes between the islands and the
+coast, so that one might almost walk on shore
+from deck to deck. It was wonderful to wake on
+some midsummer morning and find the sea gray-green,
+like translucent chrysoprase, and the somewhat
+stormy sunrise painting the sails bright
+flame-color as they flew before the warm, wild wind
+that blew strongly from the south. At night,
+sometimes, in a glory of moonlight, a vessel passed<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</span>
+close in with all sail set, and only just air enough
+to fill the canvas, enough murmur from the full
+tide to drown the sound of her movement,—a
+beautiful ghost stealing softly by, and passing in
+mysterious light beyond the glimmering headland
+out of sight. Here was suggestion enough for
+a night full of visions! Then the scudding of
+sails before a storm,—how they came rushing
+in from the far, dim sea-line, racing by to Portsmouth
+Harbor, close-reefed, or under darkened
+mainsail and jib only, leaping over the long swell,
+and plunging their sharp bowsprits into a cloud
+of snowy spray at every leap! Then when the
+storm had spent itself, how beautiful to see them
+stealing tranquilly forth from the river’s mouth,
+flocking seaward again, shining white in the peaceful
+morning sunshine! Watching them in all
+their endless variety, coming and going, dreaming,
+drifting, or flying, many a time these quaint old
+rhymes occurred to me:—</p>
+
+<div class="poetry-container">
+<div class="poetry">
+ <div class="stanza">
+ <div class="verse indent0">“Ships, ships, I will descrie you</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Amidst the main,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">I will come and try you</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">What you are protecting,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">And projecting,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">What’s your end and aim?</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Some go abroad for merchandise and trading,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">Another stays to keep his country from invading,</div>
+ <div class="verse indent0">A third is coming home with rich and wealthy lading.</div>
+ <div class="verse indent2">Halloo! my fancie, whither wilt thou go?”</div>
+ </div>
+</div>
+</div>
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</span></p>
+<p>As the winter is doubly hard, so are the gentler
+seasons doubly sweet and delightful, when one is
+shut out with them, as it were, and forced to observe
+all their changes and peculiarities, with so
+few human interests to interrupt one’s intercourse
+with nature. The rainy days in May at the Isles
+of Shoals have seemed to me more lovely than the
+sunshine in Paradise could be, so charming it was
+to walk in the warm showers over our island, and
+note all the mosses and lichens drenched and
+bright with the moisture, thick, sweet buds on the
+bayberry bushes, rich green leaves unfolding here
+and there among the tangled vines, and bright
+anemones growing up between. The lovely eyebright
+glimmers everywhere. The rain, if it continues
+for several days, bleaches the sea-weed about
+the shores to a lighter and more golden brown,
+the sea is gray, and the sky lowers; but all these
+neutral tints are gentle and refreshing. The
+coasters rock lazily on the long swell toward Cape
+Ann, dim through low-hanging clouds; clearly the
+sandpipers call, and always the song-sparrows
+freshly surprise you with their outburst of cheerful
+music. In the last weeks of May comes a
+period of balmy days, with a gentle, incessant
+southwest wind, the sea a wonderful gray-blue,
+with the faint, impalpable haze lying over sails,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</span>
+islands, sea, and coast. A brooding warmth is everywhere.
+The sky is cloudless, but opaque,—a
+kind of milky effect in the atmosphere, through
+which the sun is seen as through smoked glass,
+and long before it sets one can bear to look at the
+crimson ball slow sinking in the rich, red west;
+and the moon is like copper, throwing no light on
+the water. The islanders call this a “smoky
+sou’wester.” Now come delicious twilights, with
+silence broken only by mysterious murmurs from
+the waves, and sweet, full cries from the sandpipers
+fluttering about their nests on the margin
+of the beaches,—tender, happy notes that thrill
+the balmy air, and echo softly about the silent,
+moonlit coves. Sails in this twilight atmosphere
+gather the dusk within their folds; if the warm
+wind is blowing softly, there is enchantment in
+the sound of the lazily-flapping canvas and in the
+long creak of the mast. A human voice borne
+through this breathing wind comes like a waft of
+music faintly heard across the water. The mornings
+now are exquisite, the delicate flush of the
+sunrise through this beautiful haze is indescribable.
+The island is indeed like</p>
+
+<p class="center">
+“A precious stone set in the silver sea,”<br>
+</p>
+
+<p>so freshly green, so flower-strewn and fragrant, so<span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</span>
+musical with birds, and with the continual caressing
+of summer waves. Now and then a bobolink
+pays us a flying visit, and, tilting on a blackberry
+spray, pours out his intoxicating song; some
+morning is heard the fairy bugling of an oriole;
+a scarlet tanager honors the place with half a day’s
+sojourn, to be the wonder of all eyes; but commonly
+the swallows hold it in undisputed possession.
+The air is woven through and through with
+the gleam of their burnished wings and their clear,
+happy cries. They are so tame, knowing how
+well they are beloved, that they gather on the
+window-sills, twittering and fluttering, gay and
+graceful, turning their heads this way and that,
+eying you askance without a trace of fear. All
+day they build their nests about the eaves, nor
+heed how loving eyes do watch their charming
+toil. Walking abroad in these pleasant evenings,
+many a little sparrow’s nest one finds low down in
+the bayberry-bushes,—smooth, brown cups of woven
+grass, wherein lie the five speckled eggs, each
+full of silent music, each dumb miracle waiting for
+the finger of God to wake, to be alive, to drink the
+sunshine and the breeze, to fill the air with blissful
+sound. At the water’s edge one finds the
+long ledges covered with barnacles, and from each
+rough shell a tiny, brown, filmy hand is thrust out,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</span>
+opening and shutting in gladness beneath the
+coming tide, feeling the freshness of the flowing
+water. The shore teems with life in manifold
+forms. As the darkness gathers, the ripples begin
+to break in pale flame against the rocks; if the
+tide is low enough, it is charming to steal down
+in the shadow, and, drawing aside the curtain of
+coarse sea-weed that drapes the face of some
+smooth rock, to write on the surface beneath:
+the strange fire follows your finger; and there is
+your name in weird flame, all alive, quivering and
+trembling, and finally fading and disappearing.
+In a still pool you drop a stone or touch the
+water with your hand: instantly a thousand stars
+break out and burn and vanish in a moment! It
+used to be a pleasant thing to bring a piece of
+drift-wood, water-soaked, and shaggy with fine seaweed,
+up from the shore, and from some dark
+corner suddenly sweep my hand across it: a sheet
+of white flame followed, startling the beholder.</p>
+
+<p>June is of course the most delightful month
+here, everything is yet so fresh; later the hot
+sun dries and scorches the thin soil, and partially
+destroys the little vegetation which finds
+room upon the island. But through this month
+the ground is beautiful with starry, purple stonewort;
+like little suns the blossoms of the lion’s-foot<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</span>
+shine in the thinnest of the soil; herb-robert
+blossoms; the slender arenaria steals up among
+the bushes, lifting a little white flower to the
+sun; here and there the sorrel lies in crimson
+stains; in wet places sturdy clumps of fern
+unroll their golden green with splendid vigor of
+growth; sundew and partridge-berry creep at
+their feet; and from the swamp the rushes rise in
+ranks, like a faint, green vapor, slowly, day by day.
+The few wild-cherry bushes have each its inevitable
+caterpillars’ nest; one can but wonder how
+caterpillars and canker-worms find their way across
+the water. The presence of green snakes on these
+rocks may be explained by their having been found
+coiled on a piece of drift-wood many miles out at
+sea. Bees find their way out from the land in
+companies, seeking the white clover-blossoms that
+rise in cool, creamy, fragrant globes through the
+dark leaves and grass. The clover here is peculiarly
+rich. Many varieties of butterflies abound,
+the handsome moth of the American silkworm
+among them. One night in June, at sunset, we
+were kindling the lamps in the lighthouse, and
+because it was so mild and still outside, the little
+iron door of the lantern was left open. No breeze
+came in to stir the flame that quivered in the
+centre of each shining reflector, but presently<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</span>
+glided through the door the pale-green, exquisite
+Luna moth, with its wonderful crescents, its lines
+of velvet brown, and long under wings drawn out
+like the tail of a swallow. It sailed slowly round
+and round the dome above the lamps at first, but
+soon became agitated, and would have dashed itself
+against the flames but that I caught it. What a
+marvel it was! I never dreamed of the existence
+of so beautiful a creature. Titania herself could
+not have been more interesting to me.</p>
+
+<p>In the quiet little coves troops of butterflies are
+often seen, anchored for the night, clinging to the
+thistle-blossoms to be safe from assailing winds.
+Crickets are never heard here till after the 1st of
+August. On the mainland they begin, about the
+28th of May, a sad and gentle autumnal undertone,
+which from that time accompanies the jubilant
+chorus of summer in a gradual <i>crescendo</i>, till
+finally the days pass on to no other music save
+their sweet, melancholy chirrup. In August comes
+the ruby-throated humming-bird, and several pairs
+flutter about the little gardens for weeks. By the
+1st of July the wild roses blossom, and every bit
+of swampy ground is alive with the waving flags
+of the iris, each flower of which is full of exquisite
+variety of tint and shade of gold and violet. All
+over the island patches of it diversify the surface,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</span>
+set like amethysts in the rich greens and browns
+of turf and mossy spaces. Through the tangle of
+leaves and grasses the spikes of golden-rod make
+their way upward slowly day by day, to be ready
+at the first beckoning of Autumn’s finger to light
+their torches and join the fair procession; the
+green hollows are filled with blossoming elder,
+white as a lake of milk; the pimpernel is awake;
+and the heavy, stout stalks of the mulleins uprear
+their woolly buds, that soon will break into squares
+of pallid gold. The world is at high tide of delight.
+Along the coast-line the mirage races in
+flowing undulations of heat, changing the hill
+ranges into a solid wall, to dissolve them, and again
+reunite them into clusters of gigantic towers and
+battlements; trees, spires, chimneys, lighthouses
+become roofs and minarets and domes of some
+stately city of the clouds, and these melt in their
+turn, and the whole coast shrinks away to the
+merest line on the horizon immeasurably removed.
+Each of these changes, and the various aspects of
+their little world, are of inestimable value to the
+lonely children living always in that solitude.
+Nothing is too slight to be precious: the flashing
+of an oar-blade in the morning light; the twinkling
+of a gull’s wings afar off, like a star in the yellow
+sunshine of the drowsy summer afternoon; the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</span>
+water-spout waltzing away before the wild wind
+that cleaves the sea from the advancing thunder-cloud;
+the distant showers that march about the
+horizon, trailing their dusky fringes of falling rain
+over sea and land; every phase of the great thunder-storms
+that make glorious the weeks of July
+and August, from the first floating film of cloud
+that rises in the sky till the scattered fragments
+of the storm stream eastward to form a background
+for the rainbow,—all these things are of the
+utmost importance to dwellers at the Isles of
+Shoals. There is something especially delightful
+in the perfumes which stream across the sea after
+showers, like a heavenly greeting from the land:
+scents of hay and of clover, spice of pine woods,
+balm of flowers come floating over the cool waves
+on the wings of the west wind, and touch one like
+a breath from Paradise. Few sounds from the
+shore reach the islands; the booming of guns is
+audible, and sometimes, when the wind is west, the
+air is pierced with distant car-whistles, so very remote,
+however, that they are hardly to be recognized
+except by a practised ear.</p>
+
+<hr class="tb">
+
+<p>There is a superstition among the islanders that
+Philip Babb, or some evil-minded descendant of his,
+still haunts Appledore; and no consideration would<span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</span>
+induce the more timid to walk alone after dark
+over a certain shingly beach on that island, at the
+top of a cove bearing Babb’s name,—for there the
+uneasy spirit is oftenest seen. He is supposed to
+have been so desperately wicked when alive that
+there is no rest for him in his grave. His dress is
+a coarse, striped butcher’s frock, with a leather
+belt, to which is attached a sheath containing a
+ghostly knife, sharp and glittering, which it is his
+delight to brandish in the face of terrified humanity.
+One of the Shoalers is perfectly certain that
+he and Babb have met, and he shudders with real
+horror, recalling the meeting. This is his story.
+It was after sunset (of course), and he was coming
+round the corner of a work-shop, when he saw a
+wild and dreadful figure advancing toward him;
+his first thought was that some one wished to
+make him the victim of a practical joke, and he
+called out something to the effect that he “wasn’t
+afraid”; but the thing came near with ghastly
+face and hollow eyes, and, assuming a fiendish
+expression, took out the knife from its belt and
+flourished it in the face of the Shoaler, who fled
+to the house and entered breathless, calling for
+the person who he supposed had tried to frighten
+him. That person was quietly eating his supper;
+and when the poor fellow saw him he was so much<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</span>
+agitated that he nearly fainted, and his belief in
+Babb was fixed more firmly than ever. One spring
+night some one was sitting on the broad piazza at
+sunset; it was calm and mild; the sea murmured
+a little; birds twittered softly; there was hardly a
+waft of wind in the still atmosphere. Glancing
+toward Babb’s Cove, he saw a figure slowly crossing
+the shingle to the path which led to the house.
+After watching it a moment he called to it, but
+there was no reply; again he called, still no answer;
+but the dark figure came slowly on; and
+then he reflected that he had heard no step on the
+loose shingle that was wont to give back every footfall,
+and, somewhat puzzled, he slowly descended
+the steps of the piazza and went to meet it. It
+was not so dark but that he could see the face and
+recognize the butcher’s frock and leather belt of
+Babb, but he was not prepared for the devilish expression
+of malice in that hollow face, and, spite of
+his prosaic turn of mind, he was chilled to the marrow
+at the sight. The white stripes in the frock
+gleamed like phosphorescent light, so did the awful
+eyes. Again he called aloud, “Who are you?
+What do you want?” and still advanced, when
+suddenly the shape grew indistinct, first thick and
+cloudy, then thin, dissolving quite away, and, much
+amazed, he turned and went back to the house,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</span>
+perplexed and thoroughly dissatisfied. These tales I
+tell as they were told to me. I never saw Babb,
+nor ever could, I think. The whole Babb family
+are buried in the valley of Appledore where the
+houses stand, and till this year a bowling-alley
+stood upon the spot, and all the balls rolled over
+the bones of all the Babbs; that may have been
+one reason why the head of the family was so restless;
+since the last equinoctial gale blew the building
+down, perhaps he may rest more peacefully.
+Babb’s is, I believe, the only real ghost that haunts
+the islands; though in the loft at the parsonage on
+Star (a mere creep-hole under the eaves, unattainable
+by any steps or ladder) there is, in windy
+weather, the most extraordinary combination of
+sounds, as if two bluff old fellows were swearing at
+each other, gruffly, harshly, continually, with a
+perseverance worthy of a better cause. Really, it
+is a most disagreeable racket! A lean, brown, hollow-eyed
+old woman from Star used to tell how her
+daughter-in-law died, in a way that took the color
+out of childish cheeks to hear; for the dying woman
+thought the ghosts were scratching for her outside,
+against the house. “‘Ma’y Hahner’” (Mary
+Hannah), “she said to me, a whisperin’, says
+she, ‘Who’s that scratching, tearing the house
+down underneath the window?’ ‘No, it ain’t<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</span>
+nothin’,’ says I; ‘Ma’y Hahner, there ain’t nobody
+a tearin’ the house down underneath the winder.’
+‘Yes, yes, there is,’ says she, ‘there is! I hear
+’em scratching, scratching, tearing the house down
+underneath the winder!’ And then I know’d
+Ma’y Hahner was goin’ to die, and so she did afore
+mornin’.”</p>
+
+<p>There is a superstition here and along the coast
+to this effect. A man gathering drift-wood or
+whatever it may be, sees a spade stuck in the
+ground as if inviting him to dig. He isn’t quite
+ready, goes and empties his basket first, then
+comes back to investigate, and lo! there’s nothing
+there, and he is tormented the rest of his life
+with the thought that probably untold wealth lay
+beneath that spade, which he might have possessed
+had he only been wise enough to seize the treasure
+when it offered itself. A certain man named
+William Mace, living at Star, long, long ago, swore
+that he had had this experience; and there’s a dim
+tradition that another person, seeing the spade,
+passed by about his business, but hastening back,
+arrived just in time to see the last of the sinking
+tool, and to perceive also a golden flat-iron disappearing
+into the earth. This he seized, but no
+human power could extricate it from the ground,
+and he was forced to let go his hold and see it sink
+out of his longing ken.</p>
+
+<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</span></p>
+
+<p>Some young people, camping on the south side
+of Appledore, one summer, among the ancient
+graves, dug up a skeleton; the bones crumbled to
+dust, but the skull remained intact, and I kept it
+for a long time. The Shoalers shook their heads.
+“Hog Island would have no ‘luck’ while that
+skull remained above ground.” It had lain so long
+in the earth that it was no more repulsive than a
+bit of stone, yet a nameless dread invested it. At
+last I took it in my hands and pored over it till
+the shudder passed away forever, and then I was
+never weary of studying it. Sitting by the driftwood
+blaze late into the still autumn nights alone
+at my desk, it kept me company,—a vase of brilliant
+flowers on one side, the skull on the other,
+and the shaded lamp between, equally lighting
+both. A curious head it was, thick as an Ethiop’s,
+with no space above the eyes, high above the ears,
+and heavy behind them. But O, those hollows
+where the eyes once looked out, beholding the
+same sea and sky we see to-day! Those great,
+melancholy, empty hollows,—what sort of creature
+gazed from them? Cunning and malice,
+anger and hate, may have burned within them in
+sullen flame; who shall say if any beauty ever
+illumined them? If hate smouldered here, did
+love ever look out and transfigure the poor, dull<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</span>
+face? did any spark from the far heaven even
+brighten it? any touch of lofty thought or aspiration
+turn the clay to fire? And when, so many
+years ago, this being glided away from behind these
+awful windows and left them empty for ever and
+ever, did he find what in his life here he could not
+have possessed, with this head, which he did not
+make, and therefore was not responsible for? Many
+and many a question I put silently to the silent
+casket which had held a human soul; there was
+no sound to answer me save only the great, gentle
+whisper of the sea without the windows, and now
+and then a sigh from the autumn wind. There
+came to me a sense of the pathos of the infinite
+patience of humanity, waiting so helplessly and
+blindly for the unravelling of the riddle that has
+troubled every thoughtful soul since the beginning
+of time. Little roots of plants were clasped about
+the temples. Behind the right ear were three
+indentations, as if made by some sharp instrument,
+suggesting foul play. An Indian tomahawk might
+have made those marks, or a pirate’s cutlass: who
+can say? What matter is it now? I kept the
+relic for months, till it crumbled so fast when I
+daily dusted it that I feared it would disappear
+entirely; so I carried it quietly back and laid it
+in the grave from which it had been taken,<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</span>
+wondering, as I drew the shallow earth over it, who
+had stood round about when it was buried for the
+first time, centuries ago; what manner of people,
+and were they afraid or sorry. But there was no
+voice to answer me.</p>
+
+<p>I have before me a weird, romantic legend of
+these islands, in a time-stained, battered newspaper
+of forty years ago. I regret that it is too long
+to be given entire, for the unknown writer tells
+his story well. He came to the Shoals for the
+benefit of his failing health, and remained there
+late into the autumn of 1826, “in the family of
+a worthy fisherman.” He dilates upon the pleasure
+he found in the loneliness of the place, “the
+vast solitude of the sea; no one who has not
+known it can imbibe the faintest idea of it.”
+“From the hour I learned the truth,” he says,
+“that all which lives must die, the thought of
+dissolution has haunted me;—the falling of a
+leaf, a gray hair, or a faded cheek, has power to
+chill me. But here in the recesses of these eternal
+rocks, with only a cloudless sky above and an
+ocean before me, for the first time in my life have
+I shaken off the fear of death and believed myself
+immortal.”</p>
+
+<p>He tells his strange story in this way: “It was
+one of those awfully still mornings which cloud-gazeers<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</span>
+will remember as characterizing the autumn
+months. There was not a single vapor-wreath to
+dim the intense blue of the sky, or a breath to
+ruffle the almost motionless repose of the great
+deep; even the sunlight fell seemingly with stiller
+brightness on the surface of it.” He stood on a
+low, long point fronting the east, with the cliffs
+behind him, gazing out upon the calm, when suddenly
+he became aware of a figure standing near
+him. It was a woman wrapped closely in a dark
+sea-cloak, with a profusion of light hair flowing
+loosely over her shoulders. Fair as a lily and as
+still, she stood with her eyes fixed on the far distance,
+without a motion, without a sound. “Thinking
+her one of the inhabitants of a neighboring
+island who was watching for the return of a fishing-boat,
+or perhaps a lover, I did not immediately
+address her; but seeing no appearance of any vessel,
+at length accosted her with, ‘Well, my
+pretty maiden, do you see anything of him?’ She
+turned instantly, and fixing on me the largest and
+most melancholy blue eyes I ever beheld, said
+quietly, ‘He <i>will</i> come again.’” Then she disappeared
+round a jutting rock and left him marvelling,
+and though he had come to the island (which
+was evidently Appledore) for a forenoon’s stroll,
+he was desirous to get back again to Star and his<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</span>
+own quarters after this interruption. Fairly at
+home again, he was inclined to look upon his adventure
+as a dream, a mere delusion arising from
+his illness, but concluded to seek in his surroundings
+something to substantiate, or remove the idea.
+Finding nothing,—no woman on the island resembling
+the one he had met,—and “hearing of no
+circumstance which might corroborate the unaccountable
+impression,” he resolved to go again to
+the same spot. This time it blew half a gale; the
+fishermen in vain endeavored to dissuade him. He
+was so intensely anxious to be assured of the
+truth or fiction of the impression of the day before,
+that he could not refrain, and launched his
+boat, “which sprang strongly upon the whitened
+waters,” and, unfurling his one sail, he rounded a
+point and was soon safely sheltered in a small cove
+on the leeward side of the island, probably Babb’s
+Cove.</p>
+
+<p>Then he leaped the chasms and made his way to
+the scene of his bewilderment. The sea was rolling
+over the low point; the spot where he had
+stood the day before, “was a chaos of tumult, yet
+even then I could have sworn that I heard with
+the same deep distinctness, the quiet words of the
+maiden, ‘He <i>will</i> come again,’ and then a low,
+remotely-ringing laughter. All the latent<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</span>
+superstition of my nature rose up over me, overwhelming
+as the waves upon the rocks.” After that,
+day after day, when the weather would permit,
+he visited the desolate place, to find the golden-haired
+ghost, and often she stood beside him,
+“silent as when I first saw her, except to say,
+as then, ‘He <i>will</i> come again,’ and these words
+came upon the mind rather than upon the
+ear. I was conscious of them rather then heard
+them,—it was all like a dream, a mysterious intuition.
+I observed that the shells never crashed
+beneath her footsteps, nor did her garments rustle.
+In the bright, awful calm of noon and in the rush of
+the storm there was the same heavy stillness over
+her. When the winds were so furious that I could
+scarcely stand in their sweep, the light hair lay
+upon the forehead of the maiden without lifting a
+fibre. Her great blue eyeballs never moved in
+their sockets, and always shone with the same
+fixed, unearthly gleam. The motion of her person
+was imperceptible; I knew that she was here,
+and that she was gone.”</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp80" id="i188_180" style="max-width: 126.625em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i188_180.jpg" alt="">
+ <figcaption class="caption"><p><span class="smcap">View from the Southeastern Point of Appledore.</span></p></figcaption>
+</figure>
+
+<p>So sweet a ghost was hardly a salutary influence
+in the life of our invalid. She “held him with
+her glittering eye” till he grew quite beside himself.
+This is so good a description I cannot choose but
+quote it: “The last time I stood with her, was<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</span>
+just at the evening of a tranquil day. It was a
+lovely sunset. A few gold-edged clouds crowned
+the hills of the distant continent, and the sun had
+gone down behind them. The ocean lay blushing
+beneath the blushes of the sky, and even the
+ancient rocks seemed smiling in the glance of the
+departing day. Peace, deep peace was the pervading
+power. The waters, lapsing among the caverns,
+spoke of it, and it was visible in the silent motion
+of the small boats, which, loosening their white
+sails in the cove of Star Island, passed slowly out,
+one by one, to the night-fishing.” In the glow
+of sunset he fancied the ghost grew rosy and human.
+In the mellow light her cold eyes seemed
+to soften. But he became suddenly so overpowered
+with terror that “kneeling in shuddering
+fearfulness, he swore never more to look upon that
+spot, and never did again.”</p>
+
+<p>Going back to Star he met his old fisherman,
+who without noticing his agitation, told him quietly
+that he knew where he had been and what he had
+seen; that he himself had seen her, and proceeded
+to furnish him with the following facts. At the
+time of the first settlement, the islands were infested
+by pirates,—the bold Captain Teach, called
+Blackbeard, being one of the most notorious. One
+of Teach’s comrades, a Captain Scot, brought this<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</span>
+lovely lady hither. They buried immense treasure
+on the islands; that of Scot was buried on an
+island apart from the rest. Before they departed
+on a voyage, “to plunder, slash, and slay,” (in
+which, by the way, they were involved in one
+awful doom by the blowing up of a powder magazine),
+the maiden was carried to the island where
+her pirate lover’s treasure was hidden, and made
+to swear with horrible rites that until his return,
+if it were not till the day of judgment, she would
+guard it from the search of all mortals. So there
+she paces still, according to our story-teller.
+Would I had met this lily-fair ghost! Is it she, I
+wonder, who laments like a Banshee before the
+tempests, wailing through the gorges at Appledore,
+“He will <i>not</i> come again”? Perhaps it was she
+who frightened a merry party of people at Duck
+Island, whither they had betaken themselves for a
+day’s pleasure a few summers ago. In the centre
+of the low island stood a deserted shanty which
+some strange fishermen had built there several
+years before, and left empty, tenanted only by the
+mournful winds. It was blown down the September
+following. It was a rude hut with two rough
+rooms and one square window, or rather opening
+for a window, for sash or glass there was none.
+One of our party proposed going to look after the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</span>
+boats, as the breeze freshened and blew directly
+upon the cove where we had landed. We were
+gathered on the eastern end of the island when he
+returned, and, kneeling on the withered grass where
+we were grouped, he said suddenly, “Do you know
+what I have seen? Coming back from the boats,
+I faced the fish-house, and as I neared it I saw
+some one watching me from the window. Of
+course I thought it was one of you, but when I
+was near enough to have recognized it, I perceived
+it to be the strange countenance of a woman, wan
+as death; a face young, yet with a look in it of
+infinite age. Old! it was older than the Sphinx
+in the desert! It looked as if it had been watching
+and waiting for me since the beginning of
+time. I walked straight into the hut. There
+wasn’t a vestige of a human being there; it was
+absolutely empty.” All the warmth and brightness
+of the summer day could hardly prevent a
+chill from creeping into our veins as we listened to
+this calmly delivered statement, and we actually
+sent a boat back to Appledore for a large yacht to
+take us home, for the wind rose fast and “gurly
+grew the sea,” and we half expected the wan
+woman would come and carry our companion off
+bodily before our eyes.</p>
+
+<p>Since writing these imperfect sketches of the<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</span>
+Shoals it has become an historical fact for the records
+of the State of New Hampshire that the town
+of Gosport has disappeared, is obliterated from the
+face of the earth, nearly all the inhabitants having
+been bought out, that the place might be converted
+into a summer resort. Upon Appledore a large
+house of entertainment has been extending its
+capabilities for many years, and the future of the
+Shoals as a famous watering-place may be considered
+certain.</p>
+
+<p>The slight sprinkling of inhabitants yet remaining
+on Smutty-nose and elsewhere, who seem
+inclined to make of the place a permanent home,
+are principally Swedes and Norwegians; and a
+fine, self-respecting race they are, so thrifty, cleanly,
+well-mannered, and generally excellent that one
+can hardly say enough in their praise. It is to be
+hoped that a little rill from the tide of emigration
+which yearly sets from those countries toward
+America may finally people the unoccupied portions
+of the Shoals with a colony that will be a
+credit to New England.</p>
+
+<figure class="figcenter illowp40" id="i193" style="max-width: 14em;">
+ <img class="w100" src="images/i193.jpg" alt="">
+</figure>
+<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop">
+
+
+
+
+<div class="transnote">
+<p class="center"><b>Transcriber’s Notes</b></p>
+<p>Perceived typographical errors have been silently corrected.</p>
+<p>Inconsistencies in hyphenation and compound words have been maintained as printed.</p>
+
+
+</div>
+
+<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77366 ***</div>
+</body>
+</html>
diff --git a/77366-h/images/cover.jpg b/77366-h/images/cover.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7a5040f
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/cover.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i003_frontis.jpg b/77366-h/images/i003_frontis.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..7b642e3
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i003_frontis.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i004_title.jpg b/77366-h/images/i004_title.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..a47d48b
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i004_title.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i008_01.jpg b/77366-h/images/i008_01.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..de4d837
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i008_01.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i008_02.jpg b/77366-h/images/i008_02.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..c535b21
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i008_02.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i008_03.jpg b/77366-h/images/i008_03.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..39660e6
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i008_03.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i010_01.jpg b/77366-h/images/i010_01.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..217fa94
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i010_01.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i010_02.jpg b/77366-h/images/i010_02.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ac4a5c9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i010_02.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i022_18.jpg b/77366-h/images/i022_18.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..6edae38
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i022_18.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i126_120.jpg b/77366-h/images/i126_120.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..f8276d5
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i126_120.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i188_180.jpg b/77366-h/images/i188_180.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..b9258b9
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i188_180.jpg
Binary files differ
diff --git a/77366-h/images/i193.jpg b/77366-h/images/i193.jpg
new file mode 100644
index 0000000..ae7b95a
--- /dev/null
+++ b/77366-h/images/i193.jpg
Binary files differ