Township of Gloucester

When I was at Salem, in Massachusetts, the friends whosehospitality I was enjoying proposed an excursion to Cape Ann,(the nothern point of Massachusetts' bay,) and round thepeninsula which constitutes the township of Gloucester. Thisexcursion impressed me strongly, from the peculiar character ofthe scenery: but I know not whether it is an impression whch canbe conveyed by description. Whether it be or not, I wouldrecommend all strangers to go and visit this peninsula; and, ifconvenient, in fine autumn weather, when the atmosphere lends itsbest aid to the characteristic charms of the landscape.

It was tbe 19th of October, a foggy morning, when we mountedthe carry-all,--a carriage which holds four,--and drove merrilyout of Salem, upon a carpet of fallen leaves. I love streets thathave trees in them; Summer Street in Boston; State Street inAlbany; and Chesnut Street in Salem. We passed through Beverley,where, as in most of the small New England towns, the populationhas a character of its own. At Marblehead, on the bay, nearSalem, the people are noisy, restless, highspirited, anddemocratic. At Beverley, in the near neirhbourhood, they arequiet, economical, sober, and whig. Such, at least, is thetheory; and one fact in this connexion is, that the largest sumsin the Boston savings' banks are from Beverley. We passed over along bridge,--a respectable toll-bridge. The Americans are notfond of tolls of above a certain age,--for fear of monopoly.There is a small bridge, called Spite Bridge, because it spitesthe Beverley toll, which is much used in preference. Seven milesfurther is Manchester;--how unlike the English Mancbester! A merewith pond-lilies! woods with the glorious magnolia flourishing inthe midst! This is the only place in New England where themagnolia grows. In summer, parties are formed to visit the woods;and children make much money as guides and gatherers.Cabinetmaking is the great business of the place. We saw logs ofmahogany lying outside the houses; and much furniture in piecesstanding up against the walls, ready to be packed for NewOrleans. The furniture of the southern cities is almost entirelyderived from this neighbourhood. One manufacturer, who makes thefurniture here, and sells it from his warehouse at New Orleans,has an income of 150,000 dollars. The inhabitants of Manchesterare very prosperous. The houses were all good, except, here andthere, the abode of a drunkard, known by its unpainted walls,loose shingles, broken shutters, and decayed door-step, instriking contrast with the neat white or yellow painted houses ofthe neighbours, with their bright windows, and spruce venetianblinds.

Seven miles further, stands Gloucester; the road to it windingamong wooded rocks; sometimes close down to the shore; andsometimes overhanging the rippling waters of Massachusetts Bay.The gay autumn copses harmonized well with the grey granite, outof which they seemed to grow; and with the pearly sea, shiningout from beneath the dissolving mist.

We crossed a little canal which opens into the bay, nearGloucester; and hastened on to the most interesting ground we hadto traverse, stopping only a few minutes at Gloucester, toconsult a map which indicated almost every rock and house in thepeninsula.

The population of the peninsula is homogeneous. There isprobably no individual beyond Gloucester whose parentage may notbe referred to a particular set of people, at a particular datein English history. It has great wealth of granite and fish. Itis composed of granite; and almost its only visitors are fish.

It is a singular region. If a little orchard plot is seen,here and there, it seems rescued by some chance from beinggrown over with granite. It was pleasant to see such a hollow,with its apple tree, the ladder reared against it, the basketbeneath, and the children picking up the fallen fruit. The houseslook as if they were squeezed in among the rocks. The graniterises straight behind a house, encroaches on each side, andoverhangs the roof; leaving space only for a sprinkling of grassabout the door, for a red shrub or two to wave from a crevice,and a drip of water to flow down among gay weeds. Room for thesedwellings is obtained by blasting the rocks. Formerly, peoplewere frightened at fragments falling through the roof after ablasting: but now, it has become too common an occurrence toalarm any body. One precaution is enforced: no one is allowed tokeep more than twenty-eight pounds of powder in one town orvillage; and the powder-houses may be seen, insulated on rocks,and looking something like watchboxes, at some distance fromevery settlement. The school-houses are also remarkablebuildings. The school-house may always be known at a glance: asingle square room, generally painted white or pale green, andreared on a grassy eminence, with a number of small heads to beseen through the windows, or little people gathered about thedoor. There are twenty-one school-houses in this township ofGloucester, the population of which is nine thousand.

We dined at Sandy Bay, in a neat little hotel, whose windowsbloomed with chrysanthemums, nasturtium, and geraniums; and wherewe feasted on chowder, an excellent dish when well cooked. Itconsists of fish, (in this instance haddock,) stewed in milk,with potatoes. The parlour table was graced with a faircollection of books; as was almost every parlour I saw,throughout the country. Sandy Bay is a thriving place. It has apretty, and very conspicuous church, and a breakwater, built bythe people, at an expense of 40,000 dollars, but now too smallfor their purposes. The Atlantic rolls in upon their coastfiercely in winter: and the utility of a harbour hereabouts forall vessels, is a sufficient ground for an application toCongrcss for an appropriation of 100,000 dollars, to make alarger breakwater. If the application has succeeded, Sandy Baywill soon be an important place. While dinner was preparing, wewent down to the little harbour, and saw the dancingfishing-vessels, the ranges and piles of mackerel barrels, and animmense display of the fish drying. The mackerel fishery beginsin June, and continues almost through the year. There are threeorders of mackerel, to which the unfortunate individuals whichare detained in their summer excursion are assigned, according totheir plumpness; one dollar per barrel being the superiority ofprice of one over another.

After dinner, we proceeded on our travels, first visiting CapeAnn, the extreme north end of Massachusetts Bay. We had the baybefore us, and the great Atlantic on our left. We ought to haveseen Boston; but the fog had not quite cleared away in thedistance. Thatcher's Island was near, with its two lighthouses,and a bright, green sea playirg about it. Then we turned anddrove northward along the shore, with busy and most picturesquequarries to our left. There were tall poles in the quarries, withstretched ropes, the pulleys by which the blocks of stone wereraised: there were ox-teams and sleds: there were groups ofworkmen in the recesses of the rocks, and beside the teams, andabout the little bays and creeks, where graceful sloops wereriding under the lee of tiny breakwaters, where the embarkationof the stone for foreign parts goes on. Blocks of granite lay bythe road-side, marked, either in reference to its quality, if forsale; or to its proportion among the materials which are beingprepared to order for some great building in New York, or Mobile,or New Orleans. Some may wonder how granite should be exposed forsale in such a district; and who would be likely to buy it. Isaw, this afternoon, gate-posts, corner-posts, and foundacions ofcommon houses, of undressed granite; and, also, an entire house,the abode of the blacksmith. The friend who sat beside me told methat he hoped to see many more such mechanics' dwellings beforehe dies. Stone becomes cheaper, and wood dearer, continually; andthere is no question which is the more desirable material forthose who can afford it. With regard to beauty merely, I know ofno building material to equal granite; dressed in the city;undressed in the country. We went into a quarry, and saw anuntold wealth of fissured stone. The workmen contrive to pursuetheir business even in the winter. When the snow is on theground, and the process of drilling is stopped, they removeordinary pieces out of the way, and make all clear for theirspring labours. They "turn out" 250,000 dollars'-wortha-year; and the demand is perpetually on the increase.

Along the north side of the peninsula the road was verypretty. The grey, distant coast of New Hampshire bounded the seaview. Groups of children were playing on the sands of a deepcove; and the farmers were collecting or spreading their manureof sea-weed and fish-heads. Squam river, which forms thepeninsula, flowed out into the sea, and the village of Annisquamspread along its bank. We crossed the bridge, close by the onlytide mill I ever saw. It works for six hours, and stops for six,while the flow of the tide fills the pond above. The gates arethen shut, and a waterpower is obtained till the tide againflows.

We saw what we could of Gloucester, on our return to thatlittle town, before sunset. There are some very goodhouses, newly-built; and the place has the air of prosperity thatgladdens the eye wherever it turns, in New England. We ran downto the shore. It is overlooked by a windmill, from whose grassyplatform we beheld the scene in the singular light which heresucceeds an autumn sunset. The sky and sea were, withoutexaggeration, of a deep scarlet: Ten Pound Island sat black uponthe waters, with its yellow beacon just lighted. Fishing vesselslay still, every rope being reflected in the red mirror; and aboat, in which a boy was sculling across the harbour, was theonly moving object.

After tea, a clergyman and his wife called; and then a longsuccession of the hospitable inhabitants of Gloucester came tobid us welcome: from which it appeared that small articles ofintelligence circulate as rapidly here as in othercountry-places. In another respect, Gloucester resembled all thevillages and small towns I passed through: in the prettyattention of presenting flowers. In some of the larger cities,bouquets of rich and rare flowers were sent to me, however severemight have been the frost, or however dreary the season. In thesmallest villages, I had offerings, quite as welcome, in bunchesof flowers from the woods and meadows. Many of these last werenew to me, and as gladly received as the luscious hyacinths whichgreeted me every morning at Charleston. At Lenox, inMassachusetts, where I spent one night, my table was covered withmeadow-flowers, and with fine specimens of Jack-in-the-pulpit,and the moccassin-flower, or lady's slipper: and at Gloucester,when I returned from my early visit to the beach, where I hadbeen to see the fishermen go out, I found a gorgeous bouquet ofautumn flowers; dahlias more various and rich than could havebeen supposed to grow in such a region.

On our return to Salem, we diverged a little from our road,near Manchester, to see a farm, whose situation would make anenvious person miserable. The house lies under the shelter of awooded hill, and enjoys a glorious view of Massachusetts Bay. Theproperty lies between two bays, and has a fine fishing-stationoff the point. The fields look fertile, and a wide range ofpasturage skirts the bay. A woman and children were busy in theorchard, with a cart and barrels, taking in a fine crop ofapples; and we could only hope that they were sensible of theirprivilege in living in such a place. These are the regions,teeming witb the virtues of the Pilgrims, and as yet uninfectedby the mercenary and political cowardice of the cities, where themost gladdening aspects of human life are to be seen.

From Harriet Martineau, Society in America, VolumeI, Part II, - Economy, (Section V) - "Township ofGloucester." London: Saunders and Otley, 1837, pp. 276-285.

Forward to Society in America, Part II,- Economy, (Section VI) - "South Country Life."

Back to Society in America, Part II, -Economy, (Section IV) - "West Country Life."

Back to Society in America - Table ofContents

Back to the Dead Sociologists'Society Index