USA > Massachusetts > Barnstable County > Barnstable > Report of proceedings of the tercentenary anniversary of the town of Barnstable, Massachusetts > Part 3
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The four young men were unanimous in their opinion that it was useless to pursue the deer farther that night and pro- posed to go home before they froze their feet; in those days men wore heavy home-made cowhide boots that were far from comfortable in severely cold weather. The old man, "Granther Nye," was most vehemently opposed to the pro- posal to abandon the hunt ; he argued that the dog was sure to eventually drive the deer to one of five stands which he indicated and he insisted they should each take one of these positions, wait for the dog and not abandon the faithful beast to a useless all-evening chase ; he pointed out that the light of a full moon would soon take the place of the wan- ing sunlight; he reminded them there was no meat at home except pork and that he for one was tired of that, and they all craved fresh venison. "Whale on, " he shouted, "don't ye hear old Sukey sing off up toward Canaumet. She'll be sartin to drive the deer down to Chopcheag within the hour. We'll get him before the moon is an hour high." But the boys turned a deaf ear to all his entreaties, and failing to arouse in them any of his enthusiasm he bade them with scorn and derision to go home to the women and the warm fireside and he would stick with the old dog till he brought down the deer. As he strode off up the snowy road in the dimming twilight the young men watched him silently, wonderingly,
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and with a dubious foreboding that they should leave so old a man to hunt alone in the night.
They made their way home, ate their frugal supper, and sat uneasily by the fire waiting for their grandfather's re- turn while the women fretted and scolded them for leaving the old man alone. The tall clock slowly ticked away an hour, then another as they reluctantly debated the advisi- bility of going out to search for him.
It was steadily growing colder and colder and as first one and then another went to the door to listen for the dog they remarked it was so cold that the nail heads of the door cleats on the inside were rimmed with frost. Just as they decided to go and as they were drawing on their heavy leather boots there came a tremendous thump on the door, and as Seth threw it open "Granther Nye" staggered into the room with his old flintlock in one hand and a one hundred and twenty pound doe on his shoulders which he had shot and carried home from a mile and a half away. The hound with badly frozen paws came in whimpering at his heels. Before their astounded eyes he hurled the carcass of the deer at their feet. Flushed with his victory and with the fire of scorn in his eyes he shouted to his grandsons, "Now see if you can stand the cold in the barn long enough to dress the deer while I have my supper."
Many tales of this kind could be told which have been handed down from generation to generation, but in a book of this kind space forbids.
The wild deer still thrive in considerable numbers around this locality and the descendants of Nye Jones still hunt them, with better guns, but the law forbids shooting them after sundown or using dogs, and they have a good excuse to seek the fireside as darkness draws near.
With the editor's indulgence perhaps one more tale might interest the reader.
It concerns a great-great grandson of Nye Jones, one Ed- mund Hamblin, who was a neighbor of the writer, and if living now would be about one hundred years of age. This man, like his ancestor, was also possessed of a remarkable physique, a tall, powerful man with an indomitable will and a mind which was complete master of his body. He had seemingly unlimited capacity for hard work and seldom could heat, cold, or storm compel him to leave his work for shelter. His parents were poor, there was a large family and nearly all of them had to go to sea when very young to earn
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a bit of money; he himself began as cook on a coasting schooner when ten years old.
Later, grown to manhood in his early twenties, he went to the Grand Banks of Newfoundland on a Gloucester fisher- man. An older brother had already been lost on those same Grand Banks. One winter night while driving home down the Gulf of Maine in a howling northeast snow storm he had stood for two hours wrestling with the bucking wheel of the dangerously yawing schooner. Everything was coated with ice. The captain was a driver and was carrying a perilously large amount of sail.
Edmund, like all fishermen of those days, wore heavy cow- lide boots, he had on a thick homespun woolen coat belted tight around his waist with a piece of rope and thick woolen mittens which had frozen stiff on the backs of his hands. It was dark and the snow so blinding he could scarcely see the compass by the binnacle light. Edmund knew well that if he relaxed his vigilence for a second, as ever and anon the schooner rose dizzily on a gigantic wave and then shot for- ward and downward with a drunken shuddering reel and a breath-taking yaw, the great booms were likely to swing in across the decks and out the other side with disastrous re- sults. It took all the strength in his young body and his iron arms to hold the schooner on her course, which the captain insisted on and which was a bee line to Boston harbor with the northeast gale almost dead astern; his years of experi- ence at sea had taught him that he needed all his skill as a helmsman least she jibe and perhaps take the masts out of her, drive her under and lose all hands. His body underneath his frozen outside clothing was soaking wet with sweat.
A shipmate made his way aft to relieve him, groping his way by the life rope. Edmund gave over the wheel to his mate who warned him of the ice-coated deck and life rope leading forward, but confident of his strength and agility and with the thought of the hot "mug up" of coffee he knew was awaiting him in the galley, he started forward, but his mittens were frozen to the shape of the spokes on the wheel and as he grasped the icy life rope a sea came roaring over the rail and he was swept off his feet and overboard.
His mate at the wheel immediately hove the schooner to, whale oil flares were thrown overboard and the captain and crew to the accompaniment of the thunder of the great frozen slatting sails accomplished the seemingly impossible task of lowering away the dory although they knew the
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chances were a thousand to one they could find him in the boiling sea and smothering snow. Edmund, a strong swimmer and buoved a little by the air inside his ice-encased woolen coat and boots, made the supreme effort of his life to keep afloat. He could see the flaring lights on the schooner once in a while during a lull in the snow as he rose on a huge wave; he shouted as long as his strength held out and after more than a half hour as he was about to succomb to the inevitable, the dory by a miracle appeared out of the black night, powerful hands seized him and dragged him into it. The schooner was now a mile to the leeward ("looward" as he said it) but they made it, got the dory aboard and were again on their way. Edmund got his hot drink then and it was stronger than coffee; he slept soundly in his bunk and as the sun rose clear and bright in the morning it found him again at the wheel as the schooner ran roaring under full sail by Graves' Light and into Boston harbor. Incidentally he said his share of the fare for that three weeks' December fishing was seventeen dollars.
Twenty-four hours later he was home for a short visit and with several brothers and neighbors was on a deer hunt in the same place on the snowy roads and in the same woods that old Nye Jones hunted in many years before. With the assistance of their father's old hound who was also named Sukey, the hunt was successful, and next day there was feasting on venison, baked potatoes, golden brown gravy and hot corn bread made from meal ground at Nat Hinck- ley's old mill down at Marstons Mills. Another day and Ed- mund had ridden back to Boston on the Old Colony railroad, had boarded the schooner, was again standing his trick at the wheel, as with a rap full on the huge sails, lee rail boil- ing under and a bone in her teeth he held her on the course set by the captain toward the mount of the Bay of Fundy, thence again to the Grand Banks off New Foundland where he hoped with good luck to earn as much as a hundred dol- lars to bring home to help his father pay off the mortgage on the old homestead.
Such was one aspect, and typical of life on Cape Cod eighty years ago.
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The First Settlers of Cotuit
A TABLET OF granite raised to the memory of the pioneer settlers of Cotuit was dedicated at 4 p.m. on Tuesday, July 18th, in front of Freedom Hall. The inscription, composed by Dr. A. Lawrence Lowell, reads:
Dedicated To The Memory Of Those Men And Women Who in 1648 First Settled This Part Of Cape Cod Barnstable Tercentenary 1939
Speakers at the dedicatory ceremonies stood on a raised platform in front of Freedom Hall before a large assembly of citizens. Calvin D. Crawford, chairman of the Cotuit committee, opened the program and introduced Congress- man Charles L. Gifford. Mr. Gifford introduced Miss Mar- ion Dottridge, who unveiled the tablet, and Dr. A. Law- rence Lowell, who made the dedicatory address. Mr. Gif- ford said:
This particular ceremony now being enacted as a part of the week's 300th birthday celebration partakes of the serious side of the activities. We are about to unveil a tab- let of commemoration to the founders of this section of the Town of Barnstable.
The inscription on this stone will cause many of the pres- ent and future generations to desire to inform themselves as to their ancestors. The results of their investigations will have a sobering and highly beneficial affect upon them. In commenting upon the characteristics of the first settlers in the ceremony one hundred years ago, the following toast is recorded : "Frugality, enterprise, temperance and independ- ence-the tools with which any able-bodied man in this country can get an honest living off a rock or a sand bank.
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OF THOSE MES
ANA NOMEX
CAPE COD
DEDICATION OF THE COTUIT TABLET-Alfred Crocker, James F. Mclaughlin, Calvin D. Crawford, Miss Marion Dottridge, Dr. A. Lawrence Lowell (the speaker), and Congressman Charles L. Gifford.
May they ever be kept bright and transmitted from father to son to the last generation."
To a typical maiden of this village, who has many ties with the past because of her ancestry, and with the present by reason of numerous relatives, is accorded the honor of unveiling this permanent monument of our esteem and grateful remembrance. We present Miss Marion Dottridge.
For one hundred twenty-five years after the incorpora- tion of Barnstable, there were few settlers, indeed, in our immediate neighborhood. In fact, only from the year 1800 were there probably a dozen families scattered over the en- tire section which included old Cotuit and Cotuit Port. The few families that did live here previous to 1800 left much to be desired of historical information. However, let us hope that there are those willing to delve back of the authentic records since 1800, so that at some future birthday there will be prepared the earliest happenings that can be more properly vouched for. Previous to 1800 the land owners can, indeed, be somewhat enumerated, but it is evident that prac-
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tically all of them lived quite a distance away and few oc- cupied their holdings. I must not anticipate the remarks of the speaker whom I am about to introduce. It may be that he has in his possession results of research that will give us more decided information regarding our actual first settlers.
Fortunate, indeed, are we to have with us for this occa- sion one whom we may well claim to be the nation's first citizen in private life. I am sure it would be most difficult to convince us that there could be one greater in high personal attainments and in contributions to the economic and ethical life of the nation. He has known our people, and been of our people, for perhaps three quarters of a century, since his first visits to this village. We are proud to claim him and realize that we are extremely fortunate that he is ours for this historic occasion. I present Dr. A. Lawrence Lowell, our friend and neighbor.
DEDICATORY ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE UNVEILING OF THE TABLET TO THE FIRST SETTLERS OF COTUIT BY DR. A. LAWRENCE LOWELL
For one who was not born here, but who has lived in Co- tuit a part of every year for nearly three quarters of a cen- tury, it is both a privilege and a pleasure to take part in the dedication of this stone; for it commemorates the first enterprising men and women that settled here, drew unto them others, founded our village and endowed it with the life of a community for all time.
Therefore, it is fitting to say, in the words of Jesus the son of Sirach (Ecclesiasticus XLIV. 1, 2, 8-14) more than 2000 years ago,
1. Let us now praise famous men, and our fathers that begat us.
2. The Lord hath wrought great glory by them through his great power from the beginning.
S. There be of them, that have left a name behind them, that their praises might be reported.
9. And some there be, which have no memorial; who are perished as though they had never been; and are become as though they had never been born; and their children after them.
10. But these were merciful men, whose righteousness hath not been forgotten.
11. With their seed shall continually remain a good in- heritance, and their children are within the covenant.
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12. Their seed standeth fast, and their children for their sakes.
13. Their seed shall remain forever, and their glory shall not be blotted out.
14. Their bodies are buried in peace; but their name liv- eth for evermore.
By the energy and character of its people the place grew and prospered : mostly, of course, by the use of the sea, and that not by fishing in the neighboring waters, but by sail- ing distant oceans, and thus the traditions and legends here were essentially maritime. For, like many other spots along the coast, Cotuit has its legends : romantic, and accredited so far as to give their names to places upon the shore: There is Noisy Point, where Hannah Screecham-murdered by Captain Kidd in order that her ghost might protect his pirate treasure-so often was heard to call at night. She seems to have retained no ill will for her treatment: and, in fact, she performed her office so well that the treasure has never been brought to light.
Years later, a convict persuaded the Warden of the State's Prison that he knew where it was, dug a deep hole, shoved the warden into it, and escaped : There it is, the Warden's Pit, across the Narrows above Noisy Point.
But, being no antiquarian, I am more interested in the act- ual trend of affairs since I was a boy here, over seventy years ago. One of the most significant changes was that in the dis- tributing center of this part of the Cape. When I first came here it was Nantucket. Captain Marston had a big sloop, in which he carried wood to Nantucket whenever the Sound was sufficiently becalmed, and over there he would buy for you anything you wanted from a pair of oars to hardware. But it was a very few years later when the marketing cen- ter for all this part of the Cape changed, partly to Hyannis, but much more definitely to Boston.
It is a curious fact that, although Cape Cod was all sea- shore, it was deficient in harbors of mercantile dimensions. Provincetown was as remote as Boston; New Bedford almost as far, and not on the Cape; with the result that the Cape, having no adequate harbor, could have no city, and having no city could have no sufficient distributing center.
Nevertheless, without a city or a distributing center there were great figures here who followed the sea; and herein is a notable fact, due probably to the neighborhood of Nan- tucket and New Bedford, that, unlike the rest of Barnstable whose seafaring was chiefly commercial, here in Cotuit it
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was mainly whaling. Among the captains in this village I shall speak of those whom I happened to see, or hear talked of, when I was a boy :
Beginning at Highground, there were Captain Seth and Captain Horace Nickerson; and I remember Mr. George Lowell pointing out to me when a boy what fine specimens these men were, as I saw them in the old church on the hill. Nearer the center of the village there were Captain John Russell Sturgis and Captain Thomas Chatfield. Further to the north were Captain Coon and Captain Turner. These were all whalers; for, in accordance with the traditions, the older men in the village trained the younger in their occu- pation, thus perpetuating an industry. Most of them carried on their whale fishery mainly in the Arctic-that is, in Ber- ing Sea-which meant a three-years' voyage ; because, to go there from Cape Cod required a circumnavigation of Cape Horn ; and, more and more, it became the habit for them to sell the oil at the Sandwich Islands, where they wintered, re- fitted, and prepared for the next summer.
This occupation was brought nearly to an end by the de- struction of the whaling fleet in the Arctic by Confederate cruisers at the very time when whale oil was beginning to be replaced, both in lighthouses and homes, first by kero- sene, and later by electricity. The Southern cruisers were built and armed by Great Britain : and it was one of her great maritime blunders: for, if she had not lost her case in the arbitration at Geneva, her mercantile marine would have been in a sad state in case of war. Any country with whom she engaged in hostilities, though possessed of no har- bor of her own that could be used, would have been able to fit out in neutral ports armed ships with which to prey on British commerce. I am informed by historians that the Eng- lish Government had recognized its mistake, and conscious- ly went into the arbitration to lose it as cheaply as possible.
Among the commanders I have mentioned Captain Sturgis was, so far as my recollection goes, a sperm whaler, did his fishing in the Indian Ocean, and hence was able to keep on after the Arctic whaling gave out. In the year 1911-12 there came to Harvard from Germany an Exchange Professor named Kukenthal, whose subject was "Whales," and who complained that whaling voyages took much time, that whaling ships were not comfortable, and whalers told tall stories. I asked him if he would not like to talk to a Cape Cod whaling master. So I asked Captain Sturgis to spend the night at my house in Cambridge. After dinner it was a
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joy to hear these two men talk-one of them who knew the science of the subject, and the other the art; and when the German professor left he said to me: "Everything he told me was pure truth," of which anyone who knew Captain Sturgis would have been certain.
By the way, the log of one of his whaling voyages is here in our Library ; and there is in the village an autobiography of Captain Chatfield, written by him for his daughters, which will, I hope, some time be printed in whole or in part ; for these whaling accounts are getting rare and should not be allowed to disappear. But I have not finished with my memoirs of sea captains :
Not far from Mrs. Gardner's road lived Captain Gilbert Crocker, who was not a whaler, but who sailed for distant shores ; though, like most of the others, he had retired from blue water before I knew him. He was then an elderly man who took out parties in his large cat boat, caught trout in the spring, blue fish in the summer, played the cornet in the church choir, and kept his vitality throughout.
I remember also Captain Ames of Santuit and Captain Baxter of Marstons Mills-both commanders of steamers ; but here again misfortune pursued the Cape; for it was found that wooden ships withstood with difficulty the thrust of the screw. America was not yet in a condition to build iron ships cheaply, and our national policy was opposed to buying cheap iron steamers in other countries. Hence the Cape lost the use by both sail and steam of the deep sea, which had been by far her greatest source of industry. For years, indeed, the coasting trade supplied an occupation for many mariners ; but, with the rise in the scale of living, and the ensuing demand for reducing the number of men em- ployed, tows of coal barges proved more economical than schooners; and now the barges have given way to ccasional freight steamers through the Sound.
Cape Cod is no longer the nursery of seamen that it was; but, is that wholly a loss to the Cape ? By no means ! It was part of the process whereby the United States evolved; by which she became truly a nation; and many of the young men from here have gone over to the cities and vast lands to the westward, settling themselves there as prosperous leaders of men. Moreover, those who have remained at home are materially better off than their forefathers were. The men who rose to command on the sea obtained a position that strengthened character and force, but the financial prof- its were not large. Few, if any, of the sea captains made
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more than a comfortable livelihood, and some of them died distinctly poor. It was a hard life, a worrying life, and con- siderable profits went to the owners of the ships in the larg- er cities. New Bedford grew rich on whaling, but the Cape became merely comfortable, and not more comfortable than it is today. It is the consequence of having no cities that the larger profits of maritime life did not cling to the Cape.
Our troubles at the present time are of a different kind. Time, as we know it, consists of the past the present and the future. The past is gone. We can glory in it as we do when we meet together on this day ; we can study it, learn lessons from it, but we cannot change it, for it has passed wholly from our control.
The present is here, largely governed indeed by what has already occurred, but still the only time which is ours, in which we can act, and by our actions determine what can happen hereafter. We look at it as it races by us into the past, sometimes rejoicing in it, more often-in the actual state of the world-dreading what may come.
If the present is the only time in which we can act, the future is the only one we can think for, and therefore con- trol. Is mankind doing so ? If one stands aside and looks at the world today, does it seem so? A large portion of the great peoples-for they are great-are thinking in terms of territorial expansion without enough thought about the dif- ficulties it would bring. Others have been like the people in "Water Babies" walking backwards, crying "Don't tell us !" The whole world is becoming armed camps in which no one wants war but everyone fears he may be obliged to fight.
Do not say we can do nothing about these things; that they are governed by forces upon which we have no influ- ence. The opinion of every thinking person counts, and so does the compliance of those who do not think. Every citizen who permits not only corruption but inefficiency or waste to go unrebuked connives at it; for liberty and public welfare in a free government depend upon the devotion and courage of all citizens.
The men who made Cape Cod a nursery of seamen lived hard, adventurous and bold lives. They were strong, inde- pendent and fearless ; derived their opinions less from books than men do today, but more from experience, and they were not afraid to express their views. Their descendants are their heirs and have a right to their heritage. But the world has become more complex, more difficult for the expression of personal opinions, and hence a place where organized
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action in all affairs, public and industrial, has greater sway. In many ways this has brought great benefits, but not with- out some of the defects that to human undertakings always largely cling. It is a good general principle that in all periods of history there has lain a danger in carrying the spirit of the age too far.
The First Settlers of Osterville
A TABLET OF Acton granite honoring the first settlers of Os- terville was dedicated at 5 p.m., on Sunday, August 13th. The tablet stands in front of the Community Center build- ing. which is the old schoolhouse. Its inscription reads:
Dedicated To The Memory Of The First Settlers Of Cotacheset Now Osterville Barnstable Tercentenary 1939
The ceremonies were opened with introductions by James F. Mclaughlin. Miss Anne Goodspeed, daughter of Mr. and Mrs. Cecil Goodspeed, and a lineal descendant of Rog- er Goodspeed and John Bursley, unveiled the tablet. Mr. Mclaughlin introduced Selectman Victor F. Adams of Os- terville, who delivered the dedicatory address. Mr. Charles F. Dart, the Mayor, and Mrs. Dart, the Mayoress, of Barn- staple, England, were present at the ceremony.
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