Moore Betty - Hampton and Hampton Beach

In the 1630s, when the first Englishmen explored the area now known as Hampton, they were immediately attracted by the broad expanse of salt marsh. Extending several miles inland from the narrow strip of beach, it was covered by a thick growth of salt hay and made an ideal pasture for cows and oxen. Native Americans, too, had found the region a good place to live; they fished in the river and planted their corn on the upland. Cleared fields marked their summer dwelling places, but most of these clearings were deserted after the epidemics that killed thousands of Native Americans in the early 17th century.

Neither the early Native Americans nor the English took much interest in the seashore of Hampton. The barren rocky coast of the north beach contrasted with the sandy dunes of the south beach, shown here. The beach was separated from the village by the vast salt marsh and was inhabited by only a few fishermen. These dunes have mostly vanished now, leveled by later development.

The dividing line between the north and south beaches is the striking promontory called Great Boars Head. During the first two centuries of settlement, this rocky glacial deposit, or drumlin, was part of the Great Ox Common, a valuable grazing area. Although a few houses were built at the base of the cliff to serve fishermen in the 19th century, it was only in the 20th century that the land was divided into house lots and sold for development.

The long flight of 50 wooden steps leading from the top of Great Boars Head to the fish house and landing at the bottom were public property. Local hunters came in the fall to shoot migrating sea fowl like coots and sea brants, and fishermen used the fish house and boat landing year-round. As tourism increased, so did the use of the stairs, which were eventually removed because of safety concerns.

This more modern view clearly delineates the distinctive shape of Boars Head. In the distance stretches the vast marshy plain known as the Great Ox Common. In the 17th and 18th centuries, this land was held in common by farmers who used it exclusively as pasture for their oxen.

The tidal Hampton River meanders through the salt marsh to the sea. The twice-daily rise and fall of the tides prompted local citizens to build a gristmill operated solely by the tides. However, the town vote specified that the mill could not be operated when the marsh hay was being cut. The mill was abandoned in the late 19th century and was later demolished. Although this card shows the site of the mill on the marsh, the building in the image is part of the old wharf that stood just south of the tide mill.

This 1906 postcard shows the harvested hay piled high on stakes, or staddles, right on the marsh. These haystacks were a common sight in New England marshes and were a favorite subject of painters and photographers. Haying the marshes ceased in the 1920s, but some staddles can still be seen on the marshes today.

Hay was piled on staddles tall enough to keep the hay dry at high tide. The marsh hay was cut by hand with a scythe or by a horse-drawn mower. Piling the hay onto the staddles was backbreaking work performed by men armed with long hay poles and hay forks. In this image, a farmer has rowed out to check his haystacks at flood tide. Note that he has donned his best top hat especially for the photograph.

This view of the marshes, from the first decade of the 20th century, shows the beach in the background and the river winding between the haystacks in the foreground. Until recent years, almost all the marshes were in private hands, a legacy of the days when ownership of marshland was a valuable asset for a farmer. Proposals to develop part of the marshes in the 1960s resulted in a campaign for their conservation led by activist Ruth Stimson. As a result, so many lots were placed in a protected status that any plans to build on the marsh effectively ended.