An Old Town By the Sea 
 
Project Gutenberg's An Old Town By The Sea, by Thomas Bailey 
Aldrich This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and 
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Title: An Old Town By The Sea 
Author: Thomas Bailey Aldrich 
Release Date: March 21, 2006 [EBook #1861] 
Language: English 
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK AN OLD 
TOWN BY THE SEA *** 
 
Produced by Susan L. Farley and David Widger 
 
AN OLD TOWN BY THE SEA 
by Thomas Bailey Aldrich 
PISCATAQUA RIVER 
Thou singest by the gleaming isles, By woods, and fields of corn, Thou
singest, and the sunlight smiles Upon my birthday morn. 
But I within a city, I, So full of vague unrest, Would almost give my 
life to lie An hour upon upon thy breast. 
To let the wherry listless go, And, wrapt in dreamy joy, Dip, and surge 
idly to and fro, Like the red harbor-buoy; 
To sit in happy indolence, To rest upon the oars, And catch the heavy 
earthy scents That blow from summer shores; 
To see the rounded sun go down, And with its parting fires Light up the 
windows of the town And burn the tapering spires; 
And then to hear the muffled tolls From steeples slim and white, And 
watch, among the Isles of Shoals, The Beacon's orange light. 
O River! flowing to the main Through woods, and fields of corn, Hear 
thou my longing and my pain This sunny birthday morn; 
And take this song which fancy shapes To music like thine own, And 
sing it to the cliffs and capes And crags where I am known! 
 
CONTENTS 
I. CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH II. ALONG THE WATER SIDE III. A 
STROLL ABOUT TOWN IV. A STROLL ABOUT TOWN (continued) 
V. OLD STRAWBERRY BANK VI. SOME OLD PORTSMOUTH 
PROFILES VII. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES 
INDEX OF NAMES 
 
AN OLD TOWN BY THE SEA
I. CAPTAIN JOHN SMITH 
I CALL it an old town, but it is only relatively old. When one reflects 
on the countless centuries that have gone to the for-mation of this crust 
of earth on which we temporarily move, the most ancient cities on its 
surface seem merely things of the week before last. It was only the 
other day, then--that is to say, in the month of June, 1603--that one 
Martin Pring, in the ship Speedwell, an enormous ship of nearly fifty 
tons burden, from Bristol, England, sailed up the Piscataqua River. The 
Speedwell, numbering thirty men, officers and crew, had for consort 
the Discoverer, of twenty-six tons and thirteen men. After following the 
windings of "the brave river" for twelve miles or more, the two vessels 
turned back and put to sea again, having failed in the chief object of the 
expedition, which was to obtain a cargo of the medicinal sassafras-tree, 
from the bark of which, as well known to our ancestors, could be 
distilled the Elixir of Life. 
It was at some point on the left bank of the Piscataqua, three or four 
miles from the mouth of the river, that worthy Master Pring probably 
effected one of his several landings. The beautiful stream widens 
suddenly at this place, and the green banks, then covered with a 
network of strawberry vines, and sloping invitingly to the lip of the 
crystal water, must have won the tired mariners. 
The explorers found themselves on the edge of a vast forest of oak, 
hemlock, maple, and pine; but they saw no sassafras-trees to speak of, 
nor did they encounter--what would have been infinitely less to their 
taste--and red-men. Here and there were discoverable the scattered 
ashes of fires where the Indians had encamped earlier in the spring; 
they were absent now, at the silvery falls, higher up the stream, where 
fish abounded at that season. The soft June breeze, laden with the 
delicate breath of wild-flowers and the pungent odors of spruce and 
pine, ruffled the duplicate sky in the water; the new leaves lisped 
pleasantly in the tree tops, and the birds were singing as if they had 
gone mad. No ruder sound or movement of life disturbed the primeval 
solitude. Master Pring would scarcely recognize the spot were he to 
land there to-day.
Eleven years afterwards a much cleverer man than the commander of 
the Speedwell dropped anchor in the Piscataqua--Captain John Smith 
of famous memory. After slaying Turks in hand-to-hand combats, and 
doing all sorts of doughty deeds wherever he chanced to decorate the 
globe with his presence, he had come with two vessels to the fisheries 
on the rocky selvage of Maine, when curiosity, or perhaps    
    
		
	
	
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