The Sea Lions | Page 5

of some extent; while a narrow
but deep arm of the sea separates this island from the northern prong,
that terminates at Oyster Pond.
The name of Oyster Pond Point was formerly applied to a long, low,
fertile and pleasant reach of land, that extended several miles from the
point itself, westward, towards the spot where the two prongs of the
fork united. It was not easy, during the first quarter of the present
century, to find a more secluded spot on the whole island, than Oyster
Pond. Recent enterprises have since converted it into the terminus of a
railroad; and Green Port, once called Sterling, is a name well known to
travellers between New York and Boston; but in the earlier part of the
present century it seemed just as likely that the Santa Casa of Loretto
should take a new flight and descend on the point, as that the
improvement that has actually been made should in truth occur at that
out-of-the-way place. It required, indeed, the keen eye of a railroad
projector to bring this spot in connection with anything; nor could it be
done without having recourse to the water by which it is almost
surrounded. Using the last, it is true, means have been found to place it
in a line between two of the great marts of the country, and thus to put
an end to all its seclusion, its simplicity, its peculiarities, and we had
almost said, its happiness.
It is to us ever a painful sight to see the rustic virtues rudely thrown
aside by the intrusion of what are termed improvements. A railroad is
certainly a capital invention for the traveller, but it may be questioned
if it is of any other benefit than that of pecuniary convenience to the
places through which it passes. How many delightful hamlets, pleasant
villages, and even tranquil county towns, are losing their primitive
characters for simplicity and contentment, by the passage of these fiery
trains, that drag after them a sort of bastard elegance, a pretension that
is destructive of peace of mind, and an uneasy desire in all who dwell

by the way-side, to pry into the mysteries of the whole length and
breadth of the region it traverses!
We are writing of the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and
nineteen. In that day, Oyster Pond was, in one of the best acceptations
of the word, a rural district. It is true that its inhabitants were
accustomed to the water, and to the sight of vessels, from the
two-decker to the little shabby-looking craft that brought ashes from
town, to meliorate the sandy lands of Suffolk. Only five years before,
an English squadron had lain in Gardiner's Bay, here pronounced
'Gar'ner's,' watching the Race, or eastern outlet of the Sound, with a
view to cut off the trade and annoy their enemy. That game is up, for
ever. No hostile squadron, English, French, Dutch, or all united, will
ever again blockade an American port for any serious length of time,
the young Hercules passing too rapidly from the gristle into the bone,
any longer to suffer antics of this nature to be played in front of his
cradle. But such was not his condition in the war of 1812, and the good
people of Oyster Pond had become familiar with the checkered sides of
two-deck ships, and the venerable and beautiful ensign of Old England,
as it floated above them.
Nor was it only by these distant views, and by means of hostilities, that
the good folk on Oyster Pond were acquainted with vessels. New York
is necessary to all on the coast, both as a market and as a place to
procure supplies; and every creek, or inlet, or basin, of any sort, within
a hundred leagues of it, is sure to possess one or more craft that ply
between the favourite haven and the particular spot in question. Thus
was it with Oyster Pond. There is scarce a better harbour on the whole
American coast, than that which the narrow arm of the sea that divides
the Point from Shelter Island presents; and even in the simple times of
which we are writing, Sterling had its two or three coasters, such as
they were. But the true maritime character of Oyster Pond, as well as
that of all Suffolk, was derived from the whalers, and its proper nucleus
was across the estuary, at Sag Harbour. Thither the youths of the whole
region resorted for employment, and to advance their fortunes, and
generally with such success as is apt to attend enterprise, industry and
daring, when exercised with energy in a pursuit of moderate gains.

None became rich, in the strict signification of the term, though a few
got to be