The Lady of Hampton Beach

Even though I have lived in New Hampshire for upwards of forty years, I have only visited Hampton Beach three times.  The first of these occasions took place many years a go on a bitter cold winter day.  It was a very short visit, and I scarcely remember it.  The second visit, with two grandchildren, took place on a beautiful summer day two years ago.  I remember this one very well.  The grandchildren were fascinated by both the Atlantic Ocean and the marine biology exhibits at the adjacent Blue Ocean Discovery Center.  The third, without the grandchildren, took place just recently, on Wednesday, September 25, 2024.  This one was quite different and more serious. 

Long and wide sandy beaches are rare in northern New England, and so Hampton Beach becomes extremely crowded on hot summer days.  For this reason, we always avoided it in favor of less crowded facilities in nearby Maine.  Besides, the Maine beaches were closer to Miss Patty’s parents’ house.  But we thought Hampton Beach would likely not be crowded on a September weekday, and so we seized the opportunity.  As always, it felt wonderful to gaze upon the great Atlantic, scan the horizon, feel the breeze, and watch and listen to the surf.  It was also very pleasant to stroll along the promenade that parallels the beach.  Several attractive pavilions for public accommodation and park administration dot this promenade, and at its northern end stands the New Hampshire Marine Memorial.  I had never seen or heard of this before, and so I felt drawn to it.

The memorial features a statue of a young lady facing seaward and holding a wreath in honor of the New Hampshire residents who served in the armed forces and were lost at sea.  Around the upper base of the memorial, two verses of poetry are inscribed in large letters:

Breathe soft, ye winds,

Ye waves in silence rest.[1]

Beneath this, on the lower base of the monument, is further inscribed:

In memory of New Hampshire’s heroic war dead

Lost at sea in defense of our country.

Following this and occupying a large part of the lower base is an alphabetical list of approximately 240 names of servicemen, with their branches of the service indicated.   The vast majority were Navy men.  Several were Marines or Coast Guardsmen.  A few were Army or Air Force.

Seeing and studying the New Hampshire Marine Memorial for the first time was a moving experience for me.  I had not expected to discover this during a leisurely and carefree day at the oceanfront.  But there it was, and it commanded my attention.  While I naturally regretted the loss of life that it represented, I was pleased that these seamen were remembered and that their sacrifices were publicly acknowledged.  I also wondered how many beachgoers on a hot summer day paused to look at this monument and contemplate its significance.

My only reservation was that the list of names did not include the many merchant seamen who perished at sea in wartime.  In the 1940s, the Merchant Marine was incorporated into a federal organization titled the United States Maritime Service, or USMS.  The seamen who manned the cargo ships, oil tankers, and troop transports suffered a casualty rate exceeded, on a percentage basis, only by the Marine Corps.   While monuments to their sacrifices do exist, they tend to be not very well known by the general public.

Nonetheless, I was pleased to come upon this monument to our state’s military personnel who tragically lost their lives at sea.  It left me with little to say but much to consider.  Fortunately, it was an uncrowded, off-season day at the beach, which created an atmosphere suitable for quiet contemplation.  I appreciated that very much.

Now, I’m pleased to share some photographs.  First, we see the full monument.  The young lady portrayed, flanked by the New Hampshire state flag, faces east toward the sea.  The building in the rear is a hotel:

Next, we have three close-up views of the young lady.  The facial expression, combined with the background of dark cumulus clouds, seems to convey a sense of foreboding: 

Finally, we look southeastward over the surf and beyond to the horizon of the great Atlantic Ocean.  Despite the ominous appearance of the low-hanging cloud cover, it really was a magnificent day at the waterfront:

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[1] Lines from John Gay (1685-1732), “Epistle to a Lady,” 1714.  Information from https://www.seacoastnh.com/places-%26-events/nh-history/hampton-beach/sculpture-by-the-sea.