The New England Magazine, Volume 1, No. 1, January 1886 | Page 9

the well-known Common and through the long avenue to Beverly bridge, over which they pass to the ancient town of Beverly, and are launched on that most delightful seashore road, which, continuing on through Manchester and Gloucester and round Cape Ann, has been pronounced the loveliest in New England.
Soon the Beverly Farms, and then Manchester, are reached,--both places known to-day as the summer residences of some of Boston's best citizens, whose comfortable and elegant homes are reared upon every commanding spot.
Next, after Manchester, the environs of Gloucester,--Kettle Cove, now rejoicing in the more pleasing name of "Magnolia," taken from the swamp near by, where grow those fragrant flowers whose creamy petals, set off by dark-green leaves, are popularly supposed to scent the air for miles around,--a race of strangers whose translation from the sunny South to this northern clime is one of the wonders of the region.
After Magnolia, they ride through the pleasant woods to Fresh Water Cove, passing Rafe's Chasm and Norman's Woe Rock. Now the extreme end of Eastern Point, stretching away to the right and forming the outer part of Gloucester Harbor, appears in sight; but it is not till the top of Sawyer's Hill is reached that our friends, gaining a full view of the wide-spread panorama, call a halt to enjoy its varied beauties.
Right before them appears the rocky point on which Roger Conant's colony of 1623, the first of the cape and the oldest after Plymouth and Boston, held its brief sway; farther on, Ten-Pound Island with its light-house; then the village of Gloucester, the old fort, the still older wind-mill, both prominent objects; and in the distance the twin lighthouses of Thatcher's Island, with Railcut Hill to the north-east, and, stretching to the north, the low, marshy level through which Squam River meanders to the sea by the sands of Coffin's Beach.
Under any circumstances this panorama would have challenged the admiration of our friends; but seen, as they saw it, on a clear summer day, with the wide expanse of blue water breaking under the influence of a gentle breeze into curling waves, which with gathering force dashed playfully upon the yellow ledges and shining beaches, with flocks of sea-gulls sweeping in graceful circles or brooding upon the surface, no ordinary description could do it justice.
The fair peninsula of Cape Ann, a large part of which now lay before them, called by the Indians "Wingershaek," has since been thrice named. By Samuel de Champlain, who visited in it in 1605, it was called Cap aux Isles, the islands being those now known as Straitsmouth Island, Thatcher's Island, and Milk Island. By Captain John Smith, who landed upon its rocky shores in 1614, it was named Tragabigzanda, and the same islands were called The Three Turks' Heads; and by Prince Charles, who, after Smith's return to England, gave it the name of Cape Ann, in honor of his mother, Queen Ann, consort of James the First.
The colony of Roger Conant was afterward transferred to Salem; but within the next ten years a permanent settlement was made, which in 1642 was incorporated under the name of Gloucester, in honor of the ancient city of that name in England.
From the first, Cape Ann has been the home of fishermen, though a considerable foreign commerce was at one time carried on by its thrifty mariners. Eminently patriotic, the town bore its share in the country's struggle for independence, two companies of Gloucester men having fought at Bunker's Hill, and its bold privateers did good service upon the ocean, not only in the Revolution, but in the later struggle with the mother country.
Our travellers, having satisfied their curiosity as to the general appearance of the town, are getting under way again for a nearer acquaintance, and becoming more and more interested in the special object of their visit.
As they approach the village, it is evident that something unusual is going on; they pass people moving in the same direction, with eager and expectant faces, to one of whom Mr. Webster ventures these questions: Can his serpentine majesty be seen to-day? and where to the best advantage? Receiving satisfactory replies, the coachman is ordered to drive to the old wind-mill, where they arrive in a few moments,--from the shady side of this quaint structure, whose merrily revolving sails were at their usual work, a large part of both the outer and inner harbors being easily seen.
Let us now take some note of occurrences which at this time were agitating the little town, and the fame of which had extended to Boston.
On Sunday, the tenth of August, four days before, Mr. Amos Story, rowing in his boat near Ten-Pound Island, was greatly disturbed, not to say alarmed, by the appearance, at some twenty rods' distance, of a sea monster, totally