SPUN-YARN
From Old Nantucket
EDITED BY a a 'WTER
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SPUN-YARN
From Old Nantucket
u/
Consisting mainly of extracts from books now out of print,
witfi a few additions.
Edited^ and Publishedljy H. S. WYER.
NANTUCKET:
THE INQUIRER AND MIRROR PRESS.
1914.
607- UW '/j
Copyright 1914
HENRY S. WYER
M:m 1914
'CI,A374341 K/
TO BEGIN WITH:
During several years past the plan of this book has slowly
â– evolved itself in my consciousness, only recently talcing definite
form.
The fact that many of the books from which 1 have used
extracts are now out of print (and others soon will be) with
little probability of reprints, has seemed to emphasize the need
of a volume of this character. It has been my aim to select
from each such passages as best combine literary merit with
historical interest and local color.
To these extracts have been added certain anecdotes and
poems by various authors.
It is my belief that these selections, being thus associated,
will impress readers as a series of graphic pictures of Nantuck-
et's bygone days; of the eventful lives of her people on land
and sea; of their humor and pathos — their romance.
I acknowledge my indebtedness to the Houghton, Mifflin
Co. for privileges granted in "Qyaint Nantucket," to the Loth-
rop, Lee and Shepard Co. in "Whales We Caught," and to
Mrs. Arthur Macy for poem on last page.
H. S. W.
Nantucket, May 3. 1914.
To My Friends of Hinckley Lane.
SPUN-YARN
From Old Nantucket.
Edited by H. S. Wyer.
CONTENTS.
The Mother Isle. ''// H- s. \V;,fr
FROM "MIRIAM COFFIN, or THE WHALE-FISHERMEN."
Hll Jus. O. lliii-t. Page
Introduction, 9
Benjamin Tashima, 22
Miriam's Town and Country Houses, 28
The Shearing, 39
The Dance in the Loft, 50
Race After the Whale, 67
The Fight with Cannibals, 8 1
Whaling in the Pacific, 1 04
The Downfall of Miriam, 1 1 8
FROM "QUAINT NANTUCKET."
/;// ii'y,-. i:. I Hiss.
The Missionary from Boston, 1 42
Sea-Journals and Sea-Rovers, 152
AN ACCOUNT OF THE NANTUCKET INDIANS.
By Zacilnnis Mury.
Zaccheus Macy's Letter, 1 80
FROM TRUSTUM AND HIS GRANDCHILDREN.
nil nurrif-/ /!. Wnrnui.
The Shearing Festival, 1 88
A Wedding, " 222
The Outfitting, 226
A Skilled Pilot, 230
A Business-like Proposal, 231
in War Time, 233
The Leaders, 235
THE FIRST TEA PARTY (An Idyl from Nantucket).
236
Anonifniouft.
THERE SHE BLOWS! or WHALES WE CAUGHT.
//// ]\'ni. llii.K<f:il Miicij,
Youth's First Voyage,
245
Over the Bar,
256
The First Whale.
268
SEA-GIRT NANTUCKET.
Hy 11. S. Wijer.
Nantucket in the Revolution,
279
Nantucket in War of 1812,
286
Mrs. McCleave and Her Museum,
289
SCRAPS.
A Master Mariner, '>// // s. w,,cr.
292
"Fee-rash Feesh," '''/ //• -v. Wijer.
297
Humors of Election Day, ''// 11. S. Wyer.
301
Ship's Bill of Fare,
303
VERSE.
A Qyaker Victory, ^n " ^- '• .""•
304
The Alarmed Skipper, hij .Ta.s T. Fi<hh.
306
The Harper, hij < hmt. F Bi-inax-
308
Sit Closer, Friends, hu Arthur Mo.<;j.
3ia
THE MOTHER ISLE.
Set like a jewelled crescent rare
Amid the encircling seas.
There is an island realm more fair
Than charmed Hesperides.
From Springs first breath upon her plains
To Autumn's lingering hours,
In royal robes the Matron reigns
And crown of myriad flowers.
Far-wandering winds forever haunt
Her heath-clad moorlands lone.
Around her shores the wild waves chaunt
Their mournful monotone.
Loved faces come to her in dreams
Their voices charm her ears.
And all her daily burden seems
A tale of bygone years.
O, Mother Isle, though far apart
On alien land or sea.
We hear the message of thy heart
That calls us back to thee!
H. S. W.
SPUN-YARN
FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
CHAPTER 1.
From Miriam Coffin— Introduction.
In a secluded (|ii;irter of the island of Xantueicet.
known by the name of Siaseonset. there lived, a
few years sinee. a singular beino\ wliose mode of
life, for several previous years, had been a mystery
to everybody. To this individual, however, we had
been directed for information on a point embraced
in our investigations, respecting the state of the
whale-fishery as connected with Nantucket. lie had
been represented by the people of the town as ]ios-
sessing a remarkably retentive memory, — particu-
larly in what related to the early history of the
island; and also that he was possessed of large stores
of accurate statistical and historical information,
which he had been many years in collecting and
arranging: and furthermore it was reported, that in
his person one might discover a walking genealogical
tree, whose leaves and branches, so to speak, Avould
Tinfold the birth, parentage and education of every
resident of the island, from the days of the iirst
settlers downwards to the time present.
There are now some three or four score houses at
Siaseonset. of one storv and a half in heis'ht. erei'ted
10 SPUN- YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
on the margin of a high sand-l^lult' overlooking the
sea. Some of these are very old. and built after a
peculiar fashion which prevailed all over the island
<lnring the early part of the last century. It was
then a small village, inhabited by poor fishermen,
and the huts we speak of were their domicils. Lat-
terly, however, these huts have been turned into
summer residences for the wealthier townspeople; —
and right pleasant lounging places do they make
for those who have leisure to enjoy them. If any o^
our readers should feel curious to see the style of
building that prevailed one hundred years ago in the
town which has since assumed the name of Nan-
tucket, let Jiim now pay a visit to Siasconset, and
enter its dwellings. He will there see how, of
old, every inch of room was economized, and how
sleeping chambers were scaled by perpendicular
step-ladders, like those used to descend to the pent-
up cabin of a fishing smack, or to clamber up the
sides of a merchantman ;— and how the best and
most spacious room in the house is finished like the
cabin of a ship, with projecting beams, whose cor-
ners are beaded and ornamented wnth rude carving,
while the walls are waiiiscotted with unpainted
panel work, and the oaken tioors have grown alike
brown by time, and" smooth by a century's use.
There is but one house in the whole village which
makes modern pretension to fashionable exterior.
It is the only innovation upon the unity — the ancient
''Jieeping" of the place; — and its projector deserves
banishment under the wise provisions of the time-
honoured ^^ Laics of 'Sconset,'' for presuming to make
MIRIAM COFFIN-INTRODUCTION. 1 1
â– uny change in the arehiteotiire of the settlement.
It was our fortune to make a pilgrimage to Sia-
sconset at that season of the year when its houses
w^ere tenantless, — its deserted avenues choked up
with sombre and lifeless thistles and decayed long
grass,- — and all as still as the grave. Threading
with uncertainty its narrow and silent lanes, in
search of the habitation of the veteran, w^e came at
length to a hut before whose door stood a car of
fish, which had been recently caught and wheeled up
from the shore. The chimney top. too, gave evidence
of civilization and of the whereabout of humanity.
A stream of blue smoke issued forth and briskly
curled up in the clear atmosphere. The sight of the
fish, jumping and tioundering about in the little car,
and the lively jet of smoke overhead, was as wel-
come to us, at the moment, as a house of "entertain-
ment for man and beast" would be to a traveller in
the desert, or to a virtuoso, without corn in his
scrip, exploring the mysteries and antiquities of a
city of the dead. We tapped lightly on the closed
door of the hut. and repeated the signal more than
once : — but no answer from the indweller bade us
welcome to the hospitalities of 'Sconset.
"This is strange!" thought we. — -"very strange,
in a land proverbially celebrated for the open door
and the open hand!"
A thirst after knowledge, and a stomach yearning
fearfully for a morsel from the frying-pan or the
fish pot. gave us the courage of desperation: and
thereupon we lifted the latch of the door.— for lock
or bolt, or other fastening, there Avas none. — and
12 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
entered boldly into the main apartment of the house.
There we stood for the space of some minutes,
silently contemplating the furniture and appoint-
ments of the place. It was clear that the hand of
woman had not been there for many a day, though
it was evident, from the arrangement of i)ots and
kettles, and platters and frying-pans, that attempts
had been made, if not with female neatness, at any
rate with manly clumsiness and good will, to pre-
serve a degree of cleanliness that was creditable to
the owner of the mansion. Over the rude mantel
hung an old-fashioned, turnip-shaped, silver Avatch,
ticking loudly, and striving on in its daily race with
the sun; and against the still ruder partition, which
separated the larger room from a closet or small
sleeping apartment, hung a heavy fowling-piece of
most capacious bore: while underneath depended a
well-worn shot-bag. and a powder-flask of semi-
transparent horn. Around the room, somewhat in
confusion, the implements of piscatory warfare were
visible. Seap-nets and fishing-lines, of various sizes
and lengths, wet from recent use. were spread over
the backs of chairs to dry, and indicated that their
owner had but lately come from an excursion upon
the sea.
There was no help for us but to sit down and
quietly await the a])proach of the master, and the
issue of our adventure. On coming to this very
natural conclusion, we drew the only chair which
was disengaged towards the engulting fireplace,
and essayed to correct the chilled atmosphere of the
room, bv feeding the decaving fire with billets from
MIRIAM COFFIN- INTRODUCTION. 13
a small heap of prepared wood pi]e<l in tlie eorner,
Avhieh. from certain appearances, had been iJ^athered
along the beach, and had once formed a part of some
unfortunate vessel wrecked up(Mi the sIiomIs of the
island.
There we sat. j)unching the fire with the tonys,
and watching the sparks "prone to t\y upwards,"
and woiVlei-ing where all this would end. A dreamy
sort of abstraction came over our faculties; and in
this secluded spot we almost began to fan<'y that we
were alone in the world. We felt some of those
sensations creeping ui)on us. which one might sup-
pose the Jasf }nan would feel, who had seen all gen-
erations pass into the grave. — leaving him the sole
tenant of the earth. The crooked legs and claw-
feet of tile littl'^ old-fashioned cherry table multi-
plied a thousaiul fold in number and in crookedness,
till we almost fancied it a huge creeping thing, with
the legs and arms and claws of a dragon.
Presently an agonized groan escaped from the
chest of some sufferer near at hand, and invaded the
deep silence of the i)lace. — which before had 1ieen
rendered doubly painful by the distant monoton(Uis
roar of the surf, rolling and tund)ling in ui)on the
beach. We dropped the tongs in affi-ight: and
mechanically springing upon our feet, we were in
the act of rushing forth from the cabin, to avoid the
perturbed ghost Avhich our imagination had con-
jured up to hainit the place withal.
"Who's there!" said a loud voice that appeared
to come from the cockloft.
The charm was at once broken bv the utterance of
14 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
these words in the vernacular tongue, and our
nervous sensations gave way before the idea of the
utter ridiculousness of running away under such
<;-ircumstances. We had always longed for solitude,
— for "a lodge in some vast wilderness." — -but that
charm, too. was broken : and we believed, in our very
souls, that we had had enough of the eternal silence,
which is too often hankered after by the "mind
diseased."
"Henceforth." said we mentally, "give us the
hum and the bustle of the world, and the sprightly
chat of intimacy: — ^Solitude! — thus do we blow thee
to the winds I"
We answered the hail from aloft, nothing loath;
and begged the host to come down, as we had
walked full seven miles to see and converse with
liim upon matters with which he was reputed to be
familiar. The burly form of the man now darkened
the aperture above, and he descended the step-
ladder, with his back toward us, holding on for
safety and letting himself down with both hands by
two knotted cords, — such as are thrown over at the
gang-way of a man of war, to aid the descent into
the tiny cutter alongside. As he stood confronting
us, we could not fail to observe that he must have
seen many winters and some hardships. His face
was much weather-beaten, and his head, bald in
some spots, was here and there covered with long
and thin tufts of whitey-grayish locks, standing up
and streaming out in admirable confusion. Deep
boots, resembling fire-buckets, together with drab
small-clothes, encased his legs ; while his upper gar-
MIRIAM COFFIN- INTRODUCTION. 1 3
ments were covered over with a hiiye sliaggy
wrapper, whieh sailors call a inonkey-jaeket. He
looked at us keenly for a luoinent ; but finding his
•craft fairly boarded and in possession of the enemy,
lie deigned to offer us a seat, and to utter an excuse
for his absence by telling us that he had sought rest
in his chamber after the fatigues of his late excur-
sion. ^Moreover, he explained the cause of his fear-
ful groaning, by giving a graphic portrait of the
fiend-like nightmare which the falling of the tongs
had scared away from his brea.st. We did not. upon
the Avhole. tind our companion as morose as we had
been led to believe, by the description given to us
of his habits. At any rate, he gradually became
familiar, and undertook to tind out for us, heaven
knows by what intricate process, a collateral descent
from the "great TriistiDn Coffin;'^ and, perhaps, to
this circumstance, more than to any other, are we
indebted for the favours, both of speech and manu-
script, which he afterwards bountifully showered
upon US.
"Odd's-fish!" exclaimed he of the monkey-jacket,
breaking in upon a long historical descent, in the
mazes of which he had involved himself while an-
swering a casual question of ours; "Odd's-fish! —
thou must have fasted sufficiently well by this late
hour; and I will defer giving the remainder of the
information which thou hast demanded, until our
frugal meal is prepared and discussed. I have but
few luxuries, friend— what didst call thy name?"
"Thomi>son, sir." said we at a venture, feeling for
the present a desire to preserve our incognito.
16 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
■'TliDinpsou. is it? — I thouglit Ihou saidst l)u{ now
it was Jenkins."
''Thompson, sir — a velativ<^ of tlie Jciikijises by
tile mother's side."
"Ah — well — I have but few Inxnries. friend
Thompson, to offer thee in this mine humble abode:
but if. i)eradvi'nture thou art fond of fish, and bring-
est a good api)etite I will prepare thee sueli a dish
as the townspeople can scarcely make without resort
to 'Sconset. " Whereupon our companion selected
a large fish from his car. and in a trice disrobed it
of its scales and disembowelled the intestines; —
while in order to gain some little credit for skill in
culinary handy-work, and furthermore to convince
him that we knew how to accommodate ou.rself to
circumstances, (or that, in the words of a Jonathan
in the east, "while in Turkey we could do as the
Turkeys did,") we seized upon a bucket and filled it
with the purest of water at the village pump; — and
then we kindled up the fire anew, and made all
things ready for the accommodation of the dinner-
pot.
In due time, but not a minute too soon, a savoury
dish of chowder came upon the table; and, such is
the force of a good appetite, we did thiuk that in all
our life before we had never swallowed provender
half so delicious. But let that pass: — The reader,
Avhose mouth waters, must go to 'Sconset. for his
chowder, if he would, like unto us, enjoy a superla-
tive luxury compounded of simples.
As the clam-shell dipper which had come and
gone full oft between our pewter platters and the
MIRIAM COFFIN-INTRODUCTION. 17
eliuwder pan, rested from its labours, tlie host
pushed back his chair. Whereupon, lighting his
pipe, and coming to an anchor in his easy chair in
tlie corner, he cast his eyes up towards the well-
smoked roof in a sort of thinking reverie, and at last
broke silence as follows :
"As I was telling thee, friend Tompkins, the
island that now bears the mime of Nantucket, whose
barren j)laius thou hast crossed in coming hither,
was (mee a well wooded and well watered garden-
spot. It was owing to the improvidence, or perhaps
I might better say. to the lack of foresight of our
ancestors, that every tree of native growth, save one
or two little clumps of oak, hath disappeared from
the face of our land. It is melancholy to think on't
— for I love the sight of trees. The soil, however,
friend' Timpkins, as thou may'st have observed, is
not altogether as sterile as the world in general
imagine. But the cry of the 'sand hcap^ hath gone
out against us : — and herein I would say something
to thee about evil speaking; — but of that hereafter,
if we have time.
"To make a long story short, friend Timson." con-
tinued the narrator, "I will give thee merely the
outline of our history, which, as time and oppor-
tunity serve, thou may'st fill up at leisure. Nay —
do not interrupt me — I will answer thee more at
large upon any point thou may'st propose, when my
sketch is finished. Being a stranger here, it may
profit thee to know, that for a long time after the
cession of the colony of New- York to Lord Stirling,
the island of Nantucket, as well as all other islands
18 SPUN -YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
of that distinct colony. It came to pass, liowever,
that by peaceable negotiation, Massachusetts ob-
tained dominion over the islands upon her shore, and
Block Island fell to the lot of the Providence Planta-
tions ; while Long Island, with which Nature had
defended the shore of Conneeticut. continued th.-
appendage of New-York.
"Touching the manner in which Nantucket was
settled by the whites, I have authority for declaring
that it Avas brought al)out by accident, as it were,
and under peculiar circumstances. We. who are
natives of the island, trace our descent to the
on the Northern coast, were claimed as dependencies
Seceders. or rather to the Non-Conformists who
dwelt in the Eastern part of the Massachusetts.
Thex- were principally <.f the liaptist persuasion:
and. in ancient times, they wen- persecuted and
hunted (h)wn by their I'urilanic brethren, for
opinion's sake. \W one of th..se strange incon-
sistencies incident to human nature, the Puritans
upon the main, ^vilo had themselves been the objects
of persecution in England. l)egan the same infamous
and brutal career (.f intolerance in America, by
establishing a code of revolting laws, which wonl.l
have put a Ilerod to the blush. 1 thank (^od. my
friend, that / am not descended from that vile
fanatical race. Let oth.-rs boast, if they will, of their
Puritanic h\ood.—i>niu knows not the contamina-
tion!"
Here my e(»mpanion n>se from his chau-. and
opened a tobacco-closel in the cliininey side, from
MIRIAM COFFIN— INTRODUCTION. 19
-whence lie produced a well-thiiinbed volume, and
read as follows :
"No Quaker, or dissenter from the Avorship of the
established dominion, shall be allowed to give a vote
for the election of magistrates, or any officer.
"No food or lodging shall be afforded a Quaker.
Adamite, or other heretic.
"If any person turns Quaker, he shall be banished,
•and not suffered to return but on pain of death.
"No Roman Catholic priest shall abide in the
dominion; he shall be banished, and suffer death on
his return."
"Such, my friend," continued our host, "were the
laws of the Cameronians; and to their existence may
be attributed the settlement of Nantucket, as thou
wilt presently see. About the year ] 659-60. while
these and other tiend-like enactments were in force
in the eastern section of the present United States,
one Thomas JMacy. a Baptist, who had come from
England some twenty years previous, in search after
a peaceful habitation in our Western wilds, and who
had settled among the Puritans at 8alisbur\- in
the JMassachnsetts. committed a crying sin against
the laws of the wrathfid Cromwellites or Blueskins.
And Avhat think 'st thou it Avas? He had dared to
.shelter some forlorn and houseless Quakers in his
liarn one tempestuous night; and for that oft'ence
was he doomed, by the Puritanic Roundheads, to
undergo the signal punishment of stripes at the
whipping-post! Before the day of its infliction ar-
rived, he procured an open boat, or yawl, and Avith
two companions. Edward Starbuck and a A-outh bv
20 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
the iiiime of Isaac Coleman, he lauiiehed forth upon
an iiiiknowii sea. — declaring that he would pull his
baiM^ue to the ends of the earth, sooner than dwell
longer among beings so uncharitable and intolerant.
"Macy and his friends arrived at Nantucket,
where before the white man had never dwelt. At
that time two hostile tribes of" Indians inhabited op-
[)Osite ends of the island, numbering altogether some
three thousand souls. The new comers were re-
ceived with kindness by the natives; and they ob-
tained a great but honest intiuence over their coun-
cils. Thus commenced the settlement of Nantucket
Ity the whites; and in the following year one Thomas
Mayhew. having ol)tained a grant of the island from
Lord Stirling, conveyed it, in fee. to ten proin-ietors,
each of whom chose an associate from among his
brother 'heretics:' and the whole com))an\' of
twenty, with their })ersecuted families. in;media1ely
thereafter took jxissession as proprietoi's in com-
mon."
Our companion hereupon ])ulled forth a slip of
paper from a long-worn pocket-book, from which we
took the liberty of transcribing the names of the
original settlers of the island. Although some of
the names are now extinct, we would preserve the
remainder, if possible, to their posterity. Their in-
dustry, single-mindedness and perseverance are
worthy of the admiration and the imitation of their
descendants.
Tlie fin^t ten. Their associates.
Thomas Mayhew, John Smith,
Thomas Mar-y, Eflward Starbiick,
MIRIAM COFFIN-INTRODUCTION.
21
Tristram Coffin,
Thomas Barnard,
Peter Coffin, (son
tram,)
Christian Iliissey,
Stephen Greenleaf,
John Swain,
William Pile,
Eichard Swain.
Nath '1. Starbuck, (son
Edw'd.,)
of Tris- Robert Barnard,
James Coffin, (brother
Peter,)
Robert Pike,
Tristram Coffin, jr.,
Thomas Coleman,
Nathaniel Bolton,
Thomas Losk.
of
of
Finishing- the transcript of these venerable names,
we handed baek to our companion the original list.
He took the paper between his finger and thumb,
and with his nail resting on the third name from the
top, he remarked, with a glow of pride, that the
direct descendants of the senior Tristram Coffin had
been computed at tiie enormous number ot t\vent,y-
five thousand ! — A prolific progenitor, and a goodly
posterity, truly.
22 SPUN-YARN FROM OLD NANTUCKET.
CHAPTER II.
Benjamin Tashima, Indian Minister and Teacher.
{Grandson of Sachem Autopscot.)
Lot US enter the humble Indian sehool-liouse. The
introduction of the strangers ^vas made by ]\Ianta
to the venerable Benjamin Tashima; and they were
at once struck with his dignilied manner an<l the
connnanding intelligence of his features. There was
very little in them, excei)t the swarthy colour of the
skin, which betrayed the Indian. But for this, and
the prominent cheek-bones, and the deep sunken
eyes, tlie casfc would not have I)een discoverable.
Though of the true breed, and in his youth a wild
ranger of a continental forest. subse(iuent education,
and conformity to the habits of civilization had
wrought an agreeal)]!^ change in his ])erson and de-
meanour. He had long been looked up to as the
father of the tribe, which was now a fast-fading
I'emnant. The last children of the race were before
him; and. like a good man and a good (.'hristian, he
was endeavouring to smooth the way of their des-
tin3^ He Avas their lawgiver, their preacher, and
their school-master. He inculcated, both by precept