USA > Maine > Cumberland County > Gorham > Celebration of the one hundred and fiftieth anniversary of Gorham, Maine : May 26, 1886 > Part 10
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We find that the farmers of Gorham have held many respon- sible positions of trust and office, and have always acquitted themselves, both with great credit to themselves, and the good old town they represented. Gorham has furnished, since the year 1882, one of the best governors the State of Maine has ever had, and has the material for many more; and should we be called on to furnish a representative to Congress, or a United States senator, or even a vice-president, we should be most happy to respond. Much more might be said in behalf of the farmers of Gorham, but the lateness of the hour forbids any extended remarks, and I forbear.
Mr. Deering's address was followed by the singing of America by the chorus and the audience generally, accompanied by the
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band, and the exercises were closed by the benediction, pro- nounced by Rev. Dr. Edward Robie.
THE SHAM FIGHT.
This part of the celebration was graphically described in the Argus of the following day, by an eye witness, whose account it has been thought better to republish verbatim, than to attempt a new description. It is as follows : -
" Some time before the afternoon exercises in the tent closed, the band of athletic Indians, led by their chief, Presumpsaukett, came dashing into the field in which the tent was pitched, sound- ing their war-whoops, and made for a large tree about half-way across the field toward the woods. Here they held a brief coun- cil, and then began to execute a vigorous war-dance. Then the big medicine man harangued them, bidding them be brave as she- bears in the fight, and as merciless as she-wolves to the van- quished. Scarcely had the speech ended, when a sharp-eyed sav- age spied a white scout on the edge of the woods beyond the three log huts that stood, looking like souvenirs of pioneer times, at irregular distances from one another in the grassy field. Rais- ing a horrible war-cry, the Indians grasped their guns, and started for the rash scout, fleet as the deer. But it happened that the scout was not alone. He was backed by the C. A. War- ren G. A. R. Post, of Standish, under the command of the bold Captain E. A. Wingate, and the reception the Indians received from their rifles checked their headlong speed quite suddenly. Then, to add to the confusion of the redskins, several well-aimed shots were fired at them from the nearest log hut, and two of the savages fell, mortally wounded. The Indians were very cautious for a while, skulking behind trees, or lying flat on the ground. The almost incessant crack, crack of the guns died into silence. To the scouts in the woods it appeared as if the Indians had abandoned the field. One of the scouts incautiously attempted to reach the nearest log hut, but just as he was well away from the shelter of the woods, suddenly the savages were upon him. He was taken prisoner. After a brief consultation, one of the redskins began to drive a stake into the ground, and others
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brought kindling-wood and placed around it. The fate of the unhappy scout was evident. He was to be burned alive. Alas, his comrades were too few to rescue him, and so his soul went up amid the crackling flame and the yells of the savages. The redskins then captured one of the empty log huts, and put the torch to it. But their triumph was of short duration. The big cannon of the fort on the hill had sounded the note of alarm, and the brave members of John R. Adams Post, of Gorham, Capt. Theodore Shackford, commander, were coming at full speed to the succor of their fellow-whites. They came upon the savages like a whirlwind, and utterly routed them, killing or tak- ing as prisoners the whole band. This fight was intended to partly represent that attack of the Indians during the seven years' war on the garrison at Fort Hill, when they surprised four members of the Bryant family outside the stockade, and killed in cold blood all but one, Mrs. Bryant, and her they carried away as a captive."
EXERCISES OF THE EVENING.
The following very interesting account is taken principally from the Daily Press of the 27th of May, and gives in an admirable manner the impressions made upon the writer of it by this part of the exercises.
THE EVENING CELEBRATION.
The handsome decorations of the day were fairly outdone by the beautiful appearance which the people of Gorham gave to the village in honor of the celebration in the evening. Every- where could be seen through the branches of the trees the vari-colored lights of Chinese lanterns, and fireworks were being constantly displayed. The square at the corner of Main and School streets was rendered about as light as day by long lines of Chinese lanterns extending completely around its four sides, while a profusion of other lanterns added to the brilliancy of the scene. The Normal School boarding-house, opposite the Acad- emy, was a blaze of light, and from Academy Hill fireworks were being constantly displayed. At sunset the section of the battery fired a final salute, while the residents of the village with their friends were gathering at the Academy building and other points
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of interest. The crowds had not apparently diminished to any great extent, evening trains bringing about as many as they took away. While the throng at the Academy waited for the recep- tion to be given in the hall up stairs, interest centered in the collection of relics in the old schoolroom below.
The settlers of this historic town have left behind them many curious and valuable reminders of the lives they led, the dangers with which they were beset, and their struggles with the red men. The ladies of the village, under whose care the collection was placed, had gathered as many as possible of these tokens of by-gone days, and much interest was shown in them. The rooms were handsomely draped with bunting, and the walls hung with portraits of old residents.
A very ancient heirloom was a spinet, made in London at least two hundred years ago. The case is finely inlaid, and the keys when touched produce a twanging sound. It formerly belonged to Madame Wendell, whose second husband was Parson Smith, the first minister of Portland. The cradle made for Madame Wen- dell was among the relics, and did not appear very much worn out despite the fact of its use during five generations; also the elaborate robe in which Parson Smith was christened. Near by hung the muster-roll of Captain Oliver Hunt's Company, May 5th, 1795. Among the articles upon the table were the musket and canteen carried by Charles Thomes in the Revolutionary War, and the canteen carried by Job Thomes in the War of 1812 ; a flax comb used in 1777 ; a pitcher that was brought over in the Mayflower; a machine on which suspenders were woven in the olden times ; a mustard jar and a mug, at least one hun- dred and fifty years old ; a mould for casting pewter spoons, also very old ; all loaned by Mr. and Mrs. L. C. Roberts. An ancient beef-steak dish, pickle dishes, canteen, pewter platter, one hun- dred and fifty years old, and the " sampler " of Betsey Thomes, marked by her in 1781, loaned by Mrs. Ezra Thomes. The sampler contains the following bit of personal history : -
Betsey Thomes is my name, And English is my nation ; Gorham town is my dwelling-place, And Christ is my salvation.
BETSEY THOMES of Gorham
Aged 14: 1781.
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A coffee mill one hundred and twenty-five years old, loaned by William H. Lombard; a shoe once belonging to Mrs. Captain Joseph Mclellan of Portland, a daughter of old Hugh ; a silver teaspoon more than one hundred years old, loaned by Mrs. F. G. Cousens ; an old surveying chain once belonging to Solomon Lombard; the sign of A. Davis, 1803; a tin kitchen seventy-six years old, loaned by G. Rounds; the two oldest Bibles in the town and another ancient volume, being the Elements of Algebra by John Kersey; a gold ring and ear-rings over two hundred years old, loaned by Mrs. Thomes ; spoons one hundred and fifty years old, and the porcelain bowl used by Parson Lancaster ; bellows one hundred and fifty years old, loaned by Mr. A. L. Hamblen.
In the case of arms was the sword worn by Lieutenant-Colonel McLellan in the Revolutionary War, a cannon-ball found near the house of Mr. Roberts on Fort Hill, supposed to have been fired from the cannon on the old Fort; the barrel of the gun with which Captain " Billy " Mclellan is said to have shot several Indians ; old guns owned by Mr. W. H. Lombard; and, coming down to a later date, the musket carried in the late war by Captain Colman Harding.
The cane of Colonel Shubael Gorham, one of the three grantees of the town, was sent from New York for the occasion by its present owner, Mr. William F. Gorham of that city, a lineal descendant of Colonel Shubael. The cane is very long and heavy with a massive head of ivory, the stick being of malacca. Upon the silver band at the hea l is the inscription," D. Gorham, 1754." Other articles in the exhibit were, a framed bill of sale of Cornelius Waldo's negro slave Ned to John Phinney, in 1732 ; a pin belonging to Mary, daughter of old Hugh MeLellan ; Indian arrow-heads, and so many other equally valuable relics that it is impossible to name them all.
THE RECEPTION.
While the guests were gathering in the hall in the second story, Chandler's band, stationed outside, played a finely selected programme. The reception room was made resplendent with decorations and was filled with people. Over the door a very handsome crimson banner, the gift of Mr. Beal, the decorator
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bore, in golden letters, the inscription, " Narragansett No. 7, 1736-1886."
Under a canopy at the end of the hall stood the reception committee, composed of Governor and Mrs. Robie, Judge and Mrs. Waterman, Mr. and Mrs. Stephen Hinkley, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph Ridlon, Mr. and Mrs. Roscoe G. Harding, Mr. and Mrs. E. H. F. Smith, Rev. and Mrs. H. S. Huntington, Rev. and Mrs. F. A. Bragdon, Mr. and Mrs. Walter Clement, Mr. and Mrs. Albion F. Johnson, and Mr. and Mrs. M. C. Burnell, to receive the distinguished guests in the name of the ancient town. After a short time devoted to social intercourse and the renewal of old friendships, Judge Waterman called the assembly to order and introduced Rev. George L. Prentiss, D.D., of New York, who now delivered the address which had been expected from him in the afternoon, but which, in deference to his wishes, had been post- poned until the evening. His theme was " Recollections of Gorham Fifty Years Ago."
DR. PRENTISS' ADDRESS.
In 1836, not long after the one hundredth anniversary of the town, I ceased to be a resident of Gorham, and my visits to it, during the intervening half century, have been but few and far between. I have known but little of its later history. Most of the faces before me are the faces of utter strangers. And yet the sight of these once familiar scenes has awakened in me a host of sleeping memories. Indeed, ever since receiving the invitation to be with you on this occasion, my thoughts have kept flitting back through the fifty eventful years that separate 1886 from 1836, and I have realized, as never before, what I owe to my native town; how much in the way of mental and spiritual training; what precious friendships ; how many of those bright, youthful hopes and aspirations, that shed such radiance upon life. And I have rejoiced anew in being a son of Gorham; where else could I have been born to a goodlier heritage ? From what other point in the vastness of space could I have entered upon this wondrous stage of existence under happier auspices, or with fairer outlook ?
"Heaven lies about us in our infancy." My cradle seems to have been rocked on the very verge of the kingdom of God, as if
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the Lord had given his angels charge concerning it. In truth, is not a Christian home, in miniature at least, the veritable kingdom of God on earth? No; I would not, if I could, exchange my birthplace for any other spot on the round globe. These things do not come of mere chance :
"It is the allotment of the skies, The hand of the Supremely Wise, That guides and governs our affections And plans and orders our connections."
My acquaintance with the Gorham lying this side of 1836, I repeat, is very slight; but not so with the Gorham lying far away in the past just on the other side of 1836. With that my acquaintance was close, and my recollections of it are vivid. and full of pleasantness. In my mind's eye I still see the aged men and women, the fathers and mothers, the young men and maid- ens, the boys and girls of the town, as they appeared five and twenty years ago. I see them in their homes, at work in the fields, moving along the ancient highways, walking the village streets, sitting together in thes chool, in the academy, and in the house of God. I see them going in solemn procession to the place of burial and standing by open graves. I see them assembled, like one great family, and rejoicing together on festal days, when their hearts were glad. I can call them all by their names. The lapse of time has invested some of them with such an ideal aspect, that no gallery of portraits by renowned masters of the art could equal them in dignity and grace. Especially is this the case, when I go back to the old farm in West Gorham, where first I saw the light. Bygone images and scenes of that home of my childhood steal into my mind, to borrow the words of Coleridge, "like breezes blown from the spice islands of Youth and Hope- those two realities of this phantom world." First of all and irradiating all, rises before me the image of my sainted mother, who taught me how to pray, to trust in God, to follow Christ, and live for Him and His cause. Can I ever forget those Sabbath evening hours, when I used to kneel down close by her side, and hear her commune with her God and Saviour, even as one talketh with a friend ?
I count it a favor of Providence that my boyhood was seasoned with the genial influences of nature. I delighted to
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wander through the woods and pastures, to watch the changing aspects of the sky, and to indulge in bright day-dreams, while listening to the music of rippling brooks, or lying on the grass under the trees of the orchard and hearkening to the songs of birds. The earliest incident that I can recall carries me back to the summer of 1819, when I was three years old. I refer to the death of my honored grandfather, Major George Lewis, whose name I bear. I remember well how my soul was touched with mingled awe and wonder, as I looked upon him lying in his shroud. Another never to be forgotten incident was my first visit to Portland, when seven or eight years old. Wild with excitement, I was chasing butterflies along the road leading to our neighbor Watson's. Suddenly a voice, I can almost hear it now, called me to the house and told me, to my infinite delight, that I was going with father to Portland. What a ride, as through fairy land, was that! I have journeyed since far and wide; have visited many famous cities, at home and abroad; have once and again crossed and recrossed the ocean; but the ride to Portland with my father on that midsummer afternoon my first glimpses of the beautiful town, the strange, tall-masted ships, and the wide sea stretching away beyond, gave me a shock of astonished, rapturous emotion, which surpassed, I think, aught of the kind I have ever experienced since.
Among the strongest impressions of those early yehrs is the district school, which my brother Seargent thus described in his New England address delivered at New Orleans twenty years later : -
Behold yon simple building near the crossing of the village road! It is small and of rude construction, but stands in a pleasant and quiet. spot. A magnificent old elm spreads its broad arms above and seems to lean toward it, as a strong man bends to shelter and protect a child. A brook runs through the meadow near, and hard by there is an orchard, but the trees have suffered much and bear no fruit, except upon the most remote and inaccessible branches. From within its walls comes a busy hum, such as you may hear in a disturbed bee-hive. Now peep through yonder windows, and you will see a hundred children with rosy cheeks, mischievous eyes, and demure faces, all engaged, or pretending to be so, in their little lessons. It is the public school - the free, the common school - provided by law, open to all, claimed from the com munity as a right, not accepted as a bounty. Here the children of the rich and poor, high and low, meet upon perfect equality, and commence
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under the same auspices the race of life. From among these laughing children will go forth the men who are to control the destinies of their age and country.
It would be easy to spend all my time in talking to you about West Gorham sixty years ago. It was a thrfty, well informed, and well ordered community, embracing some of the worthiest families of the town. Pilgrim blood ran in its veins. Gladly would I speak, did time allow, of particular families and of individual men and women - of the Lincolns, the Stephensons, the Hamblens, the Watsons, the Skillingses, the Sturgises, the Cobbs, the Clements, the Fileses, and others, whose names have still the sound of old friends and neighbors. One other name, however, it would be an almost unfilial act in me to pass without special mention - that of Elder James Lewis. From the religious point of view, he was, perhaps, the most striking figure in the history of the town. He was not a man of culture, or of large talents ; nobody would call him great in the ordinary sense of the term; but how great he was in goodness and single-hearted devotion to the Divine Master whom he served! How great he was in meek simplicity and fervor of spirit! How great in apostolic labors as a youthful pioneer, and then as the patriarch of Methodism in all the region round about.
It has been my privilege to know intimately many of the most eminent ministers of my time; but I never knew one whose individuality was more picturesque and interesting than that of my venerable uncle. What a pleasant thing it was to see him riding here and there and everywhere, in that queer little gig, with that old white horse, on his errands of Christian love and evangelism! West Gorham has reason to be thankful that the dust of so eminent a servant of God is sleeping in her bosom.
In 1827, after the death of my father, the farm was sold and our family removed to the village or "corner," as it was then called. And here began a second chapter of my life in Gorham; a chapter of new and larger experiences. Gorham Village in 1827, like so many New England villages at that time, was a little world by itself. It had not yet been robbed of its quiet seclusion, social freedom, and independence, by the irruption of the great noisy outer world. The age of railroads and telegraphs and tele. phones was not yet come. You get more news from all quarters
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of the globe- a great deal of it disturbing and distracting news -in one day, than used to reach us in the course of a whole year. There can be no question that in its more tranquil, self-centered character, village society of that period had some decided advan- tages over the present. It had more real leisure, and was less affected by the worrying excitements and passions of the hour. It had a better chance to develop its own native forces in strength and beauty. And these forces in the case of Gorham were exceed- ingly vigorous. The founders and early proprietors of the town were mostly descendants of the sturdy men of Plymouth Colony, who fought with such wonderful endurance and heroism in King Philip's War; the conquerors of the Narragansetts. Not a few of them were in a direct line from the Pilgrims. Their religious faith and customs, their civic and domestic virtues, their manners, their names, and household traditions, were all redolent of Barn- stable, and adjoining towns of the Old Colony. I made a pil- grimage to Barnstable last summer, and spent part of a day in its ancient burying grounds. I found them full of the graves of my ancestors, and of the ancestors of many of the early and later settlers of Gorham; of the Phinneys, Gorhams, Davises, Lewises, Hinkleys, Hardings, Cobbs, and others. But while the first set- tlers of the town were largely of Cape Cod stock, other settlers, bringing with them other names, other family traditions, manners, and sometimes another creed, came during the next one hundred years. And these new elements helped to diversify and enrich the character of the town, especially of the village. The effects of this process of social change and evolution were very marked in the early part of this century. Boston and Cambridge, New- bury, Hingham, Groton, and other notable towns of Eastern Massachusetts, were represented among the new-comers by names that are historical in the annals, not of New England only, but of the whole country. And besides these two chief sources of sup- ply, the Green Isle contributed one of the strongest and best elements in the making of the town. I refer to the Scotch-Irish element, which came in with Hugh Mclellan and Elizabeth, his wife. They were both solid Presbyterians, and he was long a ruling elder in the church here. If now we add to these shaping influences in the first settlement and earlier growth of the town, those, whether of individuals, or families, or callings, which have
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wrought with so much power since the beginning of the present century, we have before us, I think, the main factors in the history and character of Gorham. Nor can we wonder that a community fashioned out of such materials, animated by such ancestral spirit and traditions, should have been eminently distinguished for its intelligence, its interest in education and good learning, its beauti. ful family life, its pious virtues, and its patriotic devotion. Cer- tainly, all these high qualities marked it fifty years ago. Of course it was not perfect, and in some respects, I dare say, there has since been a decided change for the better. To me, as I look back to those days, the deepest and most striking feature was the religious life, as manifested both in the family and in the church. The way of viewing our relation to God and divine things, which then prevailed, was, to be sure, pretty strict and somewhat artificial; and as a consequence, Christian nurture lacked, more or less, that bright, spontaneous, genial element, which properly belongs to it. Religion was too often a sort of spiritual bugbear instead of a delight and a "joy forever." Too much of the preaching of the time abounded in technical terms and theological abstractions, and so was fitted to repel rather than attract the youthful mind. But for all that religion was a blessed reality - the great under- lying reality and solace of existence; and for myself I can never cease to thank God that I was trained up so to regard it.
And now will you indulge me in a few personal reminiscences of some of the men, who in my boyhood represented what was best and most attractive in this community. My mother's next door neighbor was James Phinney, the patriarch of the village. His father, Captain John Phinney, was born in Barnstable, Cape Cod, in 1693. He himself was born in Gorham in 1741, so that his life was almost coeval with that of the town. He had known well my grandfather Lewis, my grandfather Prentiss, my uncle Lothrop Lewis, and, indeed, all my kindred. He showed the kindest interest in me, and I used to call him " Uncle Phinney." His memory was very strong and tenacious, and all the events of his time, whether in town or nation, seemed stored up in it. He was five years old when Bryant and his children were massacred by the Indians, and could give you, either from his own childish recollections, or as he had heard them a hundred times from the lips of his father and mother and other eye-witnesses, all the
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details of that direful tragedy. He was fourteen years old when word came of Braddock's defeat, and the name of young Colonel Washington began to twinkle, like a morning star, on the horizon of American history. He was eighteen years old when Quebec was captured by General Wolfe, and had himself felt the thrill of unspeakable joy and relief that ran through Gorham and all the frontier settlements at the glorious news. He was thirty-one years old when in response to the famous Boston circular the citizens of Gorham organized a Committee of Safety, and his father and elder brother were made members of it. From this time on through the Stamp Act agitation and all the momentous events that followed, until the battle of independence was won, the new constitution established, and Washington inaugurated first President of the United States of America, he knew every- thing by heart, and you could consult him as a living chronicle of the Revolutionary and subsequent times. He was in truth a wonderful old man, remarkable alike for his solid, civic virtues, his Christian excellence, his rich treasures of varied experience, and the benignant, sunny temper, which made his very presence a benediction. He typified to my imagination, as much as any man I ever knew, the ideal of a Pilgrim Father. How well I remember his venerable form and aspect as he sat in the house of God! Too deaf to hear the minister, he used to select a text and preach a little sermon to himself while the congregation were listening to the voice from the pulpit. He died in 1834, at the age of ninety-three.
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