From Gazette editions of August, 1960:

Piles of lumber, joists, furring boards of various lengths and thickness, all rapidly diminishing, and some scattered stones and lumps of mortar are all that remains of the Eastville Inn. Soon the ground will be cleared, raked over, no doubt seeded with grass, and another Island landmark will sink into oblivion.

No one knows when first the swinging sign of an inn was first displayed at Eastville. There is reason to believe that a few inns existed, established because of an increasing demand for such service. The Vineyard Haven harbor offered better shelter for the ships of the day than it does at the present time. Though Edgartown was indeed the Vineyard’s port of entry, circumstances preceding a storm might well have interfered with a vessel making port there. Gaining Vineyard Haven, craft of considerable size could enter Lagoon Pond and thus ride out a severe storm in safety.

The seafarer who found himself at anchor in the harbor or the pond, and with time on his hands and no serious or pressing duty, could hardly be blamed if he sought to go ashore. But Edgartown was miles away, by land or sea, and the good cheer available there could be enjoyed only by traveling over the rough and narrow cart-paths that existed. To walk the distance, or to go by saddle-horse, was not a journey to which many would look forward. But if on the nearby high, dry land there stood an inn, with a snug tap-room, where settles stood before the blazing fire and the host knew how to mix a steaming “negus” or “flip,” that was something else indeed.

As in the case of every such establishment wherever located, it follows that the Eastville Inn was a gathering place. Farmers from across the harbor would pull across in their small boats; those of the old Farm Neck section would travel with saddle-horse, ox-cart and on foot; and from still farther away came those of the Lumbert’s Cove area (it was not “Lambert’s” then). Men who were interested in the news of the day, or who wanted a mug of ale or a drink of rum, undoubtedly found their way to this nearest point where such things could be had.

Tradition refers to Eastville as “The Barbary Coast,” which name was borrowed from that North African haunt of pirates so well known to all seafarers. Nevertheless, Eastville patronage increased, and the inn was enlarged, not merely once, but three or four times.

History does not have a word to say about John Paul Jones at Eastville, but does state that he impressed naval deserters found on a ship at Tarpaulin Cove. Island tradition insists that he anchored the Alfred in Vineyard Haven harbor and sent out word from the Eastville Inn that he would “sign on” men for privateering. It is not established that the men were forthcoming, but other traditions mention the names of various Tisbury men who shipped on prrivateers, and one of the vessels might well have been the Alfred.

Two other famous captains have been mentioned in a similar connection. One was Capt. James Lawrence of the frigate Chesapeake, who spent the night at the inn before sailing to his death, and whose name was given to a baby born at the inn that night. It is said that unto this day there is still a James Lawrence or Lawrence Smith living in the family of the descendants of the host who entertained the captain.

The other was Capt. Isaac Hull of the Constitution, and he made an even deeper impression upon the Islanders. The tradition of his visit has endured longest and in greater detail. For it seems certain that messengers traveled from the inn on this occasion, and that they did indeed go to Lambert’s Cove or farther. The tradition has stated that twelve men from the same family, Luce, shipped from the Cove, and that these men were serving aboard Old Ironsidess when she defeated the British frigate Guerrierre.

Times changed. The coasting trade brought a different type of vessel to the harbor. Island business changed also, and Eastville was affected by all these changes. But the Inn remained as a year-round establishment for generations before it became a summer hotel.

Few will remember and cherish the memory of those historic figures. But some, when aged timbers have been built into new structures, will take pride in saying, “This roof once sheltered a national hero.”

Compiled by Cynthia Meisner

library@mvgazette.com