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1If I had been astonished at first catching a glimpse of so outlandish an individual as Queequeg circulating among the
2polite society of a civilized town, that astonishment soon departed upon taking my first daylight stroll through the
3streets of New Bedford. In thoroughfares nigh the docks, any considerable seaport will frequently offer to view the
4queerest looking nondescripts from foreign parts. Even in Broadway and Chestnut streets, Mediterranean mariners will
5sometimes jostle the affrighted ladies. Regent Street is not unknown to Lascars and Malays; and at Bombay, in the Apollo
6Green, live Yankees have often scared the natives. But New Bedford beats all Water Street and Wapping. In these
7last-mentioned haunts you see only sailors; but in New Bedford, actual cannibals stand chatting at street corners;
8savages outright; many of whom yet carry on their bones unholy flesh. It makes a stranger stare. But, besides the
9Feegeeans, Tongatobooarrs, Erromanggoans, Pannangians, and Brighggians, and, besides the wild specimens of the
10whaling-craft which unheeded reel about the streets, you will see other sights still more curious, certainly more
11comical. There weekly arrive in this town scores of green Vermonters and New Hampshire men, all athirst for gain and
12glory in the fishery. They are mostly young, of stalwart frames; fellows who have felled forests, and now seek to drop
13the axe and snatch the whale-lance. Many are as green as the Green Mountains whence they came. In some things you would
14think them but a few hours old. Look there! that chap strutting round the corner. He wears a beaver hat and
15swallow-tailed coat, girdled with a sailor-belt and sheath-knife. Here comes another with a sou'-wester and a bombazine
16cloak. No town-bred dandy will compare with a country-bred one--I mean a downright bumpkin dandy--a fellow that, in the
17dog-days, will mow his two acres in buckskin gloves for fear of tanning his hands. Now when a country dandy like this
18takes it into his head to make a distinguished reputation, and joins the great whale-fishery, you should see the comical
19things he does upon reaching the seaport. In bespeaking his sea-outfit, he orders bell-buttons to his waistcoats; straps
20to his canvas trowsers. Ah, poor Hay-Seed! how bitterly will burst those straps in the first howling gale, when thou art
21driven, straps, buttons, and all, down the throat of the tempest. But think not that this famous town has only
22harpooneers, cannibals, and bumpkins to show her visitors. Not at all. Still New Bedford is a queer place. Had it not
23been for us whalemen, that tract of land would this day perhaps have been in as howling condition as the coast of
24Labrador. As it is, parts of her back country are enough to frighten one, they look so bony. The town itself is perhaps
25the dearest place to live in, in all New England. It is a land of oil, true enough: but not like Canaan; a land, also,
26of corn and wine. The streets do not run with milk; nor in the spring-time do they pave them with fresh eggs. Yet, in
27spite of this, nowhere in all America will you find more patrician-like houses; parks and gardens more opulent, than in
28New Bedford. Whence came they? how planted upon this once scraggy scoria of a country? Go and gaze upon the iron
29emblematical harpoons round yonder lofty mansion, and your question will be answered. Yes; all these brave houses and
30flowery gardens came from the Atlantic, Pacific, and Indian oceans. One and all, they were harpooned and dragged up
31hither from the bottom of the sea. Can Herr Alexander perform a feat like that? In New Bedford, fathers, they say, give
32whales for dowers to their daughters, and portion off their nieces with a few porpoises a-piece. You must go to New
33Bedford to see a brilliant wedding; for, they say, they have reservoirs of oil in every house, and every night
34recklessly burn their lengths in spermaceti candles. In summer time, the town is sweet to see; full of fine maples--long
35avenues of green and gold. And in August, high in air, the beautiful and bountiful horse-chestnuts, candelabra-wise,
36proffer the passer-by their tapering upright cones of congregated blossoms. So omnipotent is art; which in many a
37district of New Bedford has superinduced bright terraces of flowers upon the barren refuse rocks thrown aside at
38creation's final day. And the women of New Bedford, they bloom like their own red roses. But roses only bloom in summer;
39whereas the fine carnation of their cheeks is perennial as sunlight in the seventh heavens. Elsewhere match that bloom
40of theirs, ye cannot, save in Salem, where they tell me the young girls breathe such musk, their sailor sweethearts
41smell them miles off shore, as though they were drawing nigh the odorous Moluccas instead of the Puritanic sands.
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