WHALING. 331 



cooper's hammers and the ring of the blacksmith's 

 anvils resounded on all sides, the sail lofts, the shops 

 of the riggers, and the " walks " of the rope-makers 

 were occupied by the multitudes that the demands of 

 the shipping gave employment to. In a thousand 

 ways the activities of a prosperous business showed 

 themselves. But all this is now changed. The ships 

 long ago sailed on their last voyages from Nantucket. 



Not an ocean on the face of the globe but holds in 

 its embrace the shattered remains of a portion of her 

 fleet, while the. surviving portion hails from other 

 ports. The tools of the mechanic are silent, and the 

 bustle of traffic no longer crowds the streets. The 

 wharves are deserted, decaying, or decayed, and the 

 warehouses have long been vacant and closed. 



To a native of Nantucket, it is a sad sight to thus 

 see " Ichabod" written on her desolate places; to look 

 upon the ruined wharves and storehouses, and to see 

 even the " toilers of the sea" themselves look old and 

 weather-beaten; to see them rapidly nearing that port 

 in which the anchor will be cast never to be weighed 

 again. 



Of the early history of whaling at Nantucket, much 

 is involved in obscurity. In common with all the 

 hardy settlers of the New England coast, those here 

 must have paid early attention to fishing, since it 

 afforded one of the — by no means numerous — 

 methods of subsistence to the first comers; and to men 

 inured to the sea, and appreciating the value of a pur- 

 suit which had already brought a goodly recompense 

 to the Biscayans, the Dutch, and the English, it was 

 natural that with the waters adjacent to their island 



