NAHANT.
Rude, rock-bound coast, where erst the Indian roamed,
The iron shoulders of thy furrowed cliffs,
Made black with smiting, still in stubborn force
Resist the scourging wave.
Bright summer suns
In all the fervor of their noon-tide heat
Obtain no power to harm thee, for thou wrapp'st
Thy watery mantle round thee, ever fresh
With ocean's coolness, and defy'st their rage.
The storm-cloud is thy glory.
Then, thou deck'st
Thyself with majesty, and to its frown
And voice of thunder, answerest boldly back,
And from thy watch-towers hurl'st the blinding spray,
While every dark and hollow cavern sounds
Its trumpet for the battle.
Yet, 'tis sweet
Amid thy fissured rocks to ruminate,
Marking thy grottos with mosaic paved
Of glittering pebbles, and that balm to breathe
Which gives the elastic nerves a freer play,
And tints the languid cheek with hues of health.
The sand-beach and the sea!
Who can divine
Their mystic intercourse, that day and night
Surceaseth not? On comes the thundering surge,
Lifting its mountain-head, with menace stern,
To whelm the unresisting; but impelled
In all the plenitude of kingly power
To change its purpose of authority.
Breaking its wand of might, doth hurry back;
And then, repenting, with new wrath return.
Yet still that single, silvery line abides,
Lowly, and fearless, and immutable.
God gives it strength.
So may He deign to grant
The sand-line of our virtues, power to cope
With all temptation. When some secret snare
Doth weave its meshes round our trembling souls,
That in their frailty turn to Him alone,
So may He give us strength.
Nahant is a rocky peninsula, stretching boldly into the ocean, and connected by beaches with the mainland. Some of its cliffs have an elevation of a hundred feet, and wonderfully excavated rocks are the boundary of its shores.
Tradition reports that its name was derived from Nahanta, an Indian princess, or the consort of a chieftain. It was purchased with that sense of equity, which often marked similar transactions with the natives, first, in 1630, for a suit of clothes, then for two old coats, and lastly, for "two pestle stones."
It is said to have been originally devoted to pasturage and to forest-ground uses, which its present aspect contradicts to a remarkable degree. "It is well wooded with oaks, pines and cedars," wrote a historian of 1638, "also it hath good store of walnuts, ashes and elms." He who now traverses it, would be fain to wonder where they could have taken root, or how resisted the deleterious influence of the ocean-spray. Yet it seems that it was of old the scene of wolf-hunting on a grand scale, as there is a record that, in 1634, the militia of Lynn and Salem were drafted for this belligerent expedition; and as such animals are not prone to choose the sterile, open rock for their habitation, the manes of those same hunted wolves corroborate the words of the historian.
Yet, however vague may be the earlier legends of Nahant, there is no doubt of its being now the favorite resort of the beauty and fashion of the vicinity, as well as from distant parts. Its pure air is invigorating, even to exhilaration, and there is deep delight in watching the rolling of its magnificent surf, wandering amid the romantic and sublime formation of its rocky coast, now scooped into caverns, and long, subterranean channels for the resounding wave, or towering into lofty columns, that mock the fury of the tempest.
A desolate islet, with the name of Egg-Rock, rears its precipitous head about two miles north-east of Nahant. Notwithstanding its rugged aspect, it has on its summit nearly three acres of arable land. It is the paradise of sea-birds, to whose jurisdiction it is yielded, on account of the difficulty and danger of approaching it. Hardy rovers have, however, occasionally surmounted these perils, and robbed the treasures of the poor, nestless gulls, with the true piratical spirit of the old Danish sea-kings.
The principal beach of Nahant, connecting it with Lynn, is nearly two miles in length. It is a slightly curved line of sand, on whose eastern shore the surges of the unbroken Atlantic beat with great force and reverberation. It forms a delightful drive, or equestrian excursion, on whose smoothly polished surface the wheel or the horses' hoof leave no trace. Shells and fragments of coral are the frequent gifts of the receding wave, which, approaching with a show of vengeful wrath, retires like an appeased lover.
The great hotel for the entertainment of visitants is near the south-eastern point of the promontory. It was built in 1820, of the native stone by which it is surrounded, and contains a sufficient number of apartments for a multitude of guests. From the double piazza that engirdles it, is a succession of grand and extensive prospects, and a bracing ocean atmosphere. When long rains prevail, the mist enwraps it in a curtain, like a great ship in the midst of the sea.
The village has several pleasant residences and boarding-houses, which have the agreeable appendages of verdure and trees. Beautiful cottages, the abodes of wealth and taste, are sprinkled here and there, the chief ornaments of the peninsula.
In one of these, on the verge of the waters, the accomplished author of "Ferdinand and Isabella," and the "Conquest of Mexico," passes the summer months, with his parents and family. None who have partaken the hospitalities of that delightful retreat, will forget its rare combinations of age and wisdom still retaining the vivacity of youth, high intellect without pride, and the sweet developments of the most sacred affections.
The fine cottage of Mr. Tudor, though occupying a site unfavorable to vegetable life, both from the bleak winds and saline atmosphere, is still, by perseverance and munificent expenditure, surrounded by the charms of a more congenial clime. Within its enclosures flowers blossom, clustering vines climb the trellises, and trees perfect their fruits, furnishing another proof that the energy of man may overcome the resistance of nature and of the elements.