96 Arcadia in Nantucket (1782)
The manners of the Friends [Quakers] are entirely founded on that simplicity which is their boast and their most distinguished characteristic, and those manners have acquired the authority of laws. Here they are strongly attached to plainness of dress as well as to that of language insomuch that though some part of it may be ungrammatical, yet should any person who was born and brought up here attempt to speak more correctly, he would be looked upon as a fop or an innovator. On the other hand, should a stranger come here and adopt their idiom in all its purity (as they deem it) this accomplishment would immediately procure him the most cordial reception and they would cherish him like an ancient member of their society. So many impositions have they suffered on this account that they begin now indeed to grow more cautious. They are so tenacious of their ancient habits of industry and frugality that if any of them were to be seen with a long coat made of English cloth on any other than the first-day (Sunday) he would be greatly ridiculed and censured. He would be looked upon as a careless spendthrift whom it would be unsafe to trust and in vain to relieve.
Idleness is the most heinous sin that can be committed in Nantucket. This principle is so thoroughly well understood and is become so universal, so prevailing a prejudice that literally speaking they are never idle. Even if they go to the market-place, which is (if I may be allowed the expression) the coffee-house of the town, either to transact business or to converse with their friends, they always have a piece of cedar in their hands. And while they are talking they will as it were instinctively employ themselves in converting it into something useful, either in making bungs or spoyls for their oil casks or other useful articles. You will be pleased to remember they are all brought up to the trade of coopers, be their future intentions or fortunes what they may. Therefore almost every man in this island has always two knives in his pocket, one much larger than the other. And though they hold everything that is called fashion in the utmost contempt, yet they are as difficult to please and as extravagant in the choice and price of their knives as any young buck in Boston would be about his hat, buckles, or coat.
As the sea excursions are often very long, their wives in their absence are necessarily obliged to transact business, to settle accounts, and in short to rule and provide for their families. These circumstances being often repeated give women the abilities as well as a taste for that kind of superintendency to which, by their prudence and good management, they seem to be in general very equal [capable]. This employment ripens their judgement and justly entitles them to a rank superior to that of other wives and this is the principal reason why those [women] of Nantucket are so fond of society, so affable, and so conversant with the affairs of the world. The men at their return, weary with the fatigues of the sea, full of confidence and love, cheerfully give their consent to every transaction that has happened during their absence and all is joy and peace. “Wife, thee hast done well,” is the general approbation they receive for their application and industry. What would the men do without the agency of these faithful mates?
The absence of so many of them at particular seasons leaves the town quite desolate and this mournful situation disposes the women to go to each other’s house much oftener than when their husbands are at home. The house is always cleaned before they set out and with peculiar alacrity they pursue their intended visit which consists of a social chat, a dish of tea, and a hearty supper. The young fellows easily find out which is the most convenient house and there they assemble with the girls of the neighborhood. Instead of cards, musical instruments, or songs, they relate stories of their whaling voyages, their various sea adventures and talk of the different coasts and people they have visited. “The island of Catharine in the Brazils,” says one, “is a very droll island, it is inhabited by none but men. Women are not permitted to come in sight of it, not a woman is there on the whole island. Who among us is not glad it is not so here? The Nantucket girls and boys beat the world.” At this innocent sally the titter goes round, they whisper to one another their spontaneous reflections. Puddings, pies, and custards never fail to be produced on such occasions. For I believe there never were any people in their circumstances who live so well, even to superabundance.
Thus they spend many of the youthful evenings of their lives, no wonder therefore that they marry so early. But no sooner have they undergone this ceremony than they cease to appear so cheerful and gay. The new rank they hold in the society impresses them with more serious ideas than were entertained before. The new wife follows in the trammels of custom, which are as powerful as the tyranny of fashion. She gradually advises and directs, the new husband soon goes to sea, he leaves her to learn and exercise the new government in which she is entered. To this dexterity in managing the husband’s business whilst he is absent, the Nantucket wives unite a great deal of industry. They spin in their houses abundance of wool and flax and would be forever disgraced and looked upon as idlers if all the family were not clad in good, neat, and sufficient homespun cloth.
The majority of the present inhabitants are the descendants of the twenty-seven first proprietors who patented the island. Of the rest, many others have since come over among them, chiefly from the Massachusetts. Here are neither Scotch, Irish, nor French as is the case in most other settlements. They are an unmixed English breed. The consequence of this extended connection is that they are all in some degree related to each other. You must not be surprised therefore when I tell you that they always call each other cousin, uncle or aunt, which are become such common appellations that no other are made use of in their daily intercourse. You would be deemed stiff and affected were you to refuse conforming yourself to this ancient custom which truly depicts the image of a large family.
Such an island inhabited as I have described is not the place where gay travelers should resort in order to enjoy that variety of pleasures the more splendid towns of this continent afford. Not that they are wholly deprived of what we might call recreations and innocent pastimes. They often walk and converse with each other as I have observed before, and upon extraordinary occasions will take a ride to Palpus [Polpis Harbor] where there is an house of entertainment. But these rural amusements are conducted upon the same plan of moderation as those in town. They are so simple as hardly to be described: the pleasure of going and returning together, of chatting and walking about, of throwing the bar, heaving stones, etc. are the only entertainments they are acquainted with. This is all they practice and all they seem to desire. The house at Palpus is the general resort of those who possess the luxury of a horse and chaise as well as of those who still retain, as the majority do, a predilection for their primitive vehicle [walking]. By resorting to that place they enjoy a change of air, they taste the pleasures of exercise. Perhaps an exhilarating bowl, not at all improper in this climate, affords the chief indulgence known to these people on the days of their greatest festivity. The mounting a horse must afford a most pleasing exercise to those men who are so much at sea. I was once invited to that house and had the satisfaction of conducting thither one of the many beauties of that island (for it abounds with handsome women) dressed in all the bewitching attire of the most charming simplicity. Like the rest of the company, she was cheerful without loud laughs and smiling without affectation. They all appeared gay without levity. I had never before in my life seen so much unaffected mirth mixed with so much modesty. We returned as happy as we went and the brightness of the moon kindly lengthened a day which had past, like other agreeable ones, with singular rapidity.
Source: J. Hector St. John de Crevecoeur, Letters from an American Farmer (1782), 194-207. https://archive.org/details/toldcontemporari03hartrich/page/18/mode/2up
