USA > Maine > Androscoggin County > Wales > History of Monmouth and Wales, V. 1 > Part 14
USA > Maine > Kennebec County > Monmouth > History of Monmouth and Wales, V. 1 > Part 14
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As late as 1810 or 1815, a bear was no uncommon sight. Some of the oldest people of our own day can recall scenes in their lives in which Bruin figured more or less conspicuously. Mrs. Nancy Prescott, recently deceased, stated that as late as 1813, she was standing near the door of her father's house (where John McCulla now lives). when a large bear came from the woods and crossed the road near where her little sister and some other children were playing. Not far from the spot where the children were grouped, was a de- serted house that had been occupied by John Blake. Mrs. Kimball, Mrs. Prescott's mother, was standing in her doorway at the time, and seeing the danger to which her children were exposed, called to them to run into the old house. They were not tardy in obey- ing her order; and one of them was so terrified that she crawled into the ash hole.
A bear was killed on the meadow near the saw-mill at Monmouth Center by a spring gun set by John
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Welch; and one was shot nearly opposite the residence of B. Frank Jones, at East Monmouth, by Daniel Allen.
The last bear killed within the limits of Monmouth was shot one Sunday at the head of the Leeds road, opposite the town-house. The exact date of this *pos- itively last appearance" of Bruin is not known.
Nor were bears the only annoying features of pioneer life. Many years after the advent of the white man. a small band of Indians hovered around the ponds and streams at East Monmouth. A short distance up the stream from "the mills" is a large rock known as "In- dian Rock." Not far from this, on the banks of the stream, were the wigwams of the tribe. Among this broken tribe was a converted Indian by the name of Lews, who acted as missionary and spiritual adviser to his fellows. John Mitchell, a massive brave of bad repute, was another of this number. Tradition says that the latter threw one of his squaws over the dam at the mills. Whether this be true or not. it is quite certain that he cut the throat of another of his dusky consorts with a knife. Dearborn Blake's wife, Hannah, was a woman of great courage. John Mitchell came into her house one day, while she and her neigh- bors were holding a spinning bee. As he was the only male in attendance, and entered in a state of mild intox- ication, his presence created considerable consternation among the timorous ones. Becoming incensed at Mrs. Blake's refusal to furnish him ockaba (strong drink), he began to disturb the women about their work. Mrs. Blake, not at all terrified, but considerably irritated, deliberately ordered him out of the house. He refused
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to go. "If you don't go, I will split your head open," exclaimed the gritty woman, and, as he still refused to obey, she seized a long shovel and fairly forced him from the premises.
The whole tribe of which Mitchell was a member was for a long time a constant source of annoyance. Two squaws visited the home of one of the settlers where there was an infant only a few days old. Before leaving. one of them asked permission to take the child. The mother, with no thought of what would follow, placed it in her arms. The squaw held the squirming bundle for a moment, and then darted out of the door and down to a brook that ran near the cabin. Plung- ing it into the cold water until it was drenched from head to foot, she returned the child to the frightened mother with the remark, "Neber sick, neber die." Although it received no injury from its unceremonial baptism, the pledge of mundane immortality was not fulfilled.
Before dams were built across the streams, salmon, shad and alewives came up into the Cochnewagan from the Kennebec river by way of the Cobbosee-contee and Annabessacook. It has, undoubtedly, been noticed that at nearly every annual meeting for several years a committee was appointed to keep the fish-ways open. Their appointment, however, ended the fish-way ques- tion until the next year. when a new set of officers would be appointed for the same purpose.
About fifteen years before the settlement of Mon- mouth. Dr. Sylvester Gardiner, one of the wealthiest and most influential members of the Plymouth Compa- ny, commenced to found a town on his Kennebec lands.
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The lower part of Cobbosee-contee river was selected as the site on account of the superior water-power which that stream afforded, and the case with which larger vessels of commerce could land their stores on the adjacent Kennebec. He built a dam across the Cobbosee-contee and erected seve' al mills on its banks. This dam was a source of great annoyance to the in- habitants of Wales Plantation, as by it the salmon and alewives that had sported in the upper tributaries of the Cobbosee-contee were prevented from ascending from the Kennebec. The settlers in Winthrop early saw the necessity of taking action in relation to pro- viding means to prevent this infringement on their rights. In 1771 they chose a committee to wait on Dr. Gardiner, and request him to open a way through, or around, his dam, for the passage of fish, but to no pur- pose. Each wear the matter was agitated at the town meeting, and, at times, legal action was proposed, and a committee appointed to prosecute at the expense of the town. This continued until about the opening of the new century. A fish committee was appointed each year in all the towns lying upon or about waters flow- ing into the Cobbosee-contee, whose duty it was to en- deavor to procure an unobstructed passage for fish into the ponds. I am not aware that this question of rights ever went to the courts, although the law of the Com- monwealth would have sustained the settlers in a suit; which is evident from the fact that, in 1806, a petition was before the General Court to have the Cobbosee stream exempted from the fish law of the Common- wealth, which petition the representative to the Gen- eral Court from the town of Winthrop was instructed
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to oppose
Dr. Gardiner did not trouble himself to provide a way for fish to ascend into the ponds, and, although the fish-way committee could enforce a compliance to the demands of the settlers on the local streams, it was to little purpose, as long as the main stream was closed at its junction with the river.
"Smelting time" was observed in those days very much as it is now. The seasons of hilarity that are en- joved nearly every spring are but repetitions of scenes that were then enacted. Smelts were first discovered in the tributaries of Cochnewagan Pond by Alexander Thompson. Shall we not erect a monument to his memory? He was exploring on the shore of the pond, when he came upon a brook that was literally black with small fishes. He had never seen anything like it. Those who are familiar with the habits of the Cochne- wagan smelt-and what person living within a distance of five miles is not ?- can imagine the surprise that the sight must have caused. Here was an army in solid rank and file, reaching from bank to bank, and moving steadily upward with almost the precision of drilled troops. He caught a few of the strange objects with his bare hands, and carried them over to his uncle Thomas Gray's to exhibit them as curiosities. It was proposed to cook them and try their flavor, but the women feared that they were poisonous, and refused to touch them. Finally Gray decided to risk his life by tasting one. With much dreadful apprehension the women prepared the fish. He ate it. It reached the right spot and he duplicated his order.
In vain did his friends endeavor to dissuade him from
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his rashness. He calmly informed them that in the event of their being noxious they would kill no one but himself. He ate heartily of them, and finding himself alive the next morning, went over to the brook and caught five or six bushels to salt down. From that day smelting time has been an annual festival.
In late years, they have been caught in comparative- ly small quantities, but the early settlers caught them by cartloads and salted and dried barrels of them at a time. It is claimed that Gen. Dearborn once ate six dozen smelts at one meal, with a proportionate allow- ance of Indian bannock and coffee. He had been off in the woods exploring, and returned very hungry. He
stopped at John Welch's and called for something to eat. Mrs. Welch hastily baked a corn cake, of which the General was very fond, cooked the smelts, and prepared some strong coffee, and the General pitched in like a man on a wager. He afterward said he never ate as good a meal before in all his life. It is claimed by scientists that the Cochnewagan smelt is, in some respect, unlike any other that swims. At the solicita- tion of the U. S. Fish Commissioner, the writer caught a few specimens, packed them in damp moss, and sent them to the Smithsonian Institute. Commissioner At- kins is responsible for the statement that they differ from all others.
A few years after the settlement of the plantation. John Chandler, of Winthrop, built a grist mill. This was a great convenience to the inhabitants of Wales. and saved them long journeys to Gardiner, and Tops- ham, where they had been obliged to go with their grists. Some little time elapsed after he commenced
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grinding wheat before he could bolt the flour. He then procured a hand-bolter. This primitive arrange- ment was liberally patronized. There was, at the time. no other grist mill in a region of many miles. Col. Butterfield, and other early settlers of Farmington, visit- ed this mill twice every winter, drawing their grists on hand-sleds over the crust. Two or three days would usually be consumed on the journey, and as many bushels of grain and flour generally formed a load. This amount was intended for a year's supply.
Indian corn, pounded by hand in a large mortar,formed the principal ingredient for bread. The mortar was often a maple stump, dug out in the center, and the heavy pestle was sometimes hung on a swaying limb overhead, the spring of which acted as a sort of balance wheel to keep up the motion.
Nearly all the pioneers owned one or more cows. and milk, combined with the broken corn in the form of hominy.composed a large percentage of the table sup- plies in summer. Pumpkins were raised in large quantities, and these, baked, and eaten with milk or maple syrup and sugar. entered largely into their bill of fare for winter. The modern pampered and petted palate would revolt at such fare, but our forefathers were thankful for even this.
When John Judkins was cutting his clearing, he lived on pickled fish and water; and the water was so full of wrigglers that he could prevent swallowing them only by brushing them away from his mouth with his hands.
His was no exceptional experience. Almost every man who settled in the plantation prior to 1800 had to
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encounter difficulties which one of anything weaker than an iron nerve, would consider well-nigh insuper- able.
After the first year. the obstacles were less enormous, but by no means wholly removed. The ground was rich and yielded readily to the touch of the husband- man; but the clearings were small and closely sur- rounded with dense woods that held the snows until late in the spring, and kept the soil heavy and clammy.
If the spring happened to be unusually early, and the frosts somewhat considerate about the date of their ap- pearance in the fall, the corn crop, which was the main dependence, was usually good, but it often happened that nature reversed these conditions.
The year 1787 was especially unproductive, on ac- count of the intense cold of the summer season. On the first of July, ice formed an inch thick, and the fourth of the following month a severe hail-storm mangled almost everything that the farmers had ventured to plant.
It was at just about this time that Wales Plantation received its greatest influx of settlers, and those were days of actual suffering.
In 1791 the grasshoppers came to Maine with a view to settling in the new country; and settle they did, and not only settled, but demanded a quit-claim deed of all the tillage land on which they squatted. It was a fear- ful scourge. They devoured everything that was green to the very ground, and in many fields not so much as a bushel of potatoes was raised. The unfortunate pioneers must have thought that the wrath of the Fates was upon them. The cold season of 1787 was supple-
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mented the next year by a freshet that inundated all the low lands and swept everything before it; and only three years later the grasshoppers came. This was apparently a sufficiency of that kind of fortune; but the crows were not satisfied with the part they had played in the tragedy, and in 1802, they bore down upon the crops with such destruction that in some towns near us a bounty of twelve and a half cents was offered for each head.
Nor were the inhabitants of Wales Plantation the only ones who were in straightened circumstances. When Joseph Bishop moved from Gardiner and settled in Winthrop, his household effects might have been represented by a long row of ciphers. He had no chair, nor so much as a board from which to construct a seat. He did have a cow, however, and from her his family got nearly all their living for sev- eral weeks. Checkerberries were quite plentiful, and formed quite a relief from a steady milk diet. In the latter part of the summer the black flies pestered the cow so badly that she ceased to give milk, and then it was no easy matter to sustain the union of body and spirit.
It was customary, when intelligence was received that a cargo of corn had entered the Kennebec, for the settlers to go after a supply. The roads were in such condition that it was impossible to drive a team through. except in winter, when the deep snow and ice covered the rough places, and all transporting was done either on horseback or "pick-a-back."
Capt. Sewall Prescott and Caleb Fogg owned in common an old Canadian horse. Prescott said that when it became rumored that a vessel had landed at
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the river with corn, either he or Fogg would take the "kerunck" and start. If they failed to get corn, a load of fish would be substituted; and with this, and a gal- lon of rum for each owner, they would lade the weather-beaten animal and return, walking the entire distance both ways.
The first horse brought into the settlement was owned by Thomas Gray. He was wintered the first year on "blue joint." Doubtless he had as many fine points about him, the following spring, as Mark Twain's mule. All the English hay the early settlers used they purchased at Pondtown, until they got some land seeded down. None of them were able to buy much at a time, and the supply was very limited. Their main dependence was on the meadows.
Mrs. John Welch once said that the first man she saw with a horse, after she came into the woods, was Howe, the hunter and trapper who has been mentioned in a previous chapter. He was mounted on a relic of the historical past, with a bridle and strings made of bark, had a blanket girded about him, after the manner of the Indians, and, with his strangely equipped horse. cut a singular figure. Howe had a regular route, which included all the ponds and streams in this vicin- ity, and made hunting his sole employment.
Mrs. Welch has the credit of making the first garden. In it was the first sprig of clover that was grown in the plantation. Whence it came is an unsolved problem. Possibly it was dropped by a bird. Suffice it to say that Mrs. Welch found it, transplanted it in her garden, and guarded it with jealous care. Notwithstanding her vigilance. a hired girl at Ichabod Baker's found an op-
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portunity to steal it. She was not permitted to enjoy her treasure long, however, for Mrs. Welch speedily traced the theft. and, finding the clover on Baker's premises, again removed it to her garden, where it was afterward allowed to grow unmolested.
The first sleigh in the settlement was built by Ensign Allen, son of Joseph Allen. He sold it to Capt. Sewall Prescott.
The first carriage was a two-wheeled chaise in which Capt. Arnold came to town. The roads were then in an almost impassable state, and men turned out with their oxen to help the Captain through the slough-holes. The first carriage mentioned in the tax lists was "Jin- ral Chandler's shay."
The first English hay raised in the settlement was started from seed purchased of John Gray, of Winthrop. Gray furnished seed in large quantities. The following is one of his orders:
"Winthrop, 9 December 1785.
Mr. Ichabod Baker, Sir .- Please to pay Isaac Bonney Nine shil- lings lawful money, which is my due, from you, for hay sead. In so doing you will much oblige your friend and Savant, John Gray."
The first grass that grew by the roadside between J. W. Goding's and B. M. Prescott's, on High St., was started from chaff which Capt. Sewall Prescott sowed.
The settlers had no pastures. The cattle, after re- ceiving a slit in the car, or some other mark of identity, were all turned into a common herd and allowed the freedom of the meadows. Occasionally a member would stray away from the rest of the flock and become mingled with the stock of another community on an adjoining meadow. When the stock was taken up in
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the fall, the truant would be found, at a distance, per- haps, of several miles from home. In such a case it was the duty of the one who discovered the stray ani- mal to enter a description of it on the town records. As soon as the loss was discovered by the owner, he would visit the town clerk, and, unless it had fallen a prey to wild beasts. would easily recover his animal. It sometimes happened that animals would stray in from adjoining towns. In such a case, if the owner did not appear within a limited season, it was the duty of the town clerk to record a description of the animal at the county register's office. The following, taken from the Lincoln folios, at Wiscasset, is a specimen record :
JNO. CHANDLER'S LETTER.
SIR :
These are to inform you that Nath'l Norris of Monmouth has no- tified to me that he has found and taken up, within two months past, one Ox of the following colour and marks, natural and arti- ficial, viz : red colours with some white in his face and a white spot on his rump, appears to be nine or ten years old. Artificial marks are some letters on his horn, but much defaced, and two holes in his right horn, all of which I have made an entry of as the Law di- rects. Monmouth, October 15th, 1793.
JOHN CHANDLER, Clerk.
To Thomas Rice, Esqr.
Rec'd October 24, 1793, and entered and examined
by Thomas Rice, Reg'r.
It was customary (and the custom was concordant with statute law) to record the different artifices used to identify ownership in horned cattle and sheep. An examination of these records of "legalized cruelty," as one has termed it, affords amusement, even if it excites indignation.
John Chandler's artificial mark was "a crop off the
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left ear;" Matthias Blossom's was "a crop off the left ear and a slit in the same;" Capt. Blossom's, "a crop off the right ear;" Ichabod Baker's was "a happeny un- der the right;" Simon Dearborn's, "a notch under the left ear ;" James Norris's was "a swallows-tail cut out of the right ear;" James T. Norris's "a swallows-tail cut of each ear;" Joseph Norris's was "a hole cut through the left ear;" Wm. P. Kelly's, "a swallows-tail cut in the end of the left ear:" Capt. Levi Dearborn's was "a crop off the left ear and a slit in the same;" Samuel Prescott's "a half-a-crop off the left ear;" James Mc- Lellan's was "a crop off both ears;" David Marston's, "a hole punched through both ears." This will suffice to show how the ears were lacerated and mutilated.
The modern custom of marking sheep with paint is a mark of civilization. Sheep were first brought into the town in the fall of 1792, by John Chandler and Matthias Blossom. The sheep of that period were of native stock. Their wool was "as coarse as dogs' hair." and very little longer. It was nearly twenty years from that time before imported sheep . were introduced. Then the Merinos came in. The fever that raged over this new breed of wool-and-mutton-producers was as contagious as the Asiatic cholera, and the fabulous prices paid for breeders are not exceeded in this era of "fads" and fancy specialties. One man paid one hundred dollars in cash for a young ram, and a few years later sold the same animal for the cutting of six cords of wood.
The youth who celebrated Monmouth's centennial with a game of lawn tennis, while privileged beyond his ancestors in the variety of pastimes and amusements
i
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that the age supplies. can but desire the resuscitation of ancient customs, when the vision of an old-fashioned "raising" plays on his mind. Framing a house means but little, now that timbers a trifle longer than friction matches are used instead of the ten inch sticks that our grandfathers considered necessary. Imagine the consternation that would seize our ancestors could they but watch the construction of one of our modern dwell- ings; and imagine the difficulty of persuading them to risk their necks beneath a roof supported by a "bal- loon" frame. Imagine, on the other hand, a carpenter of the present day using timbers large enough for the ribs of Noah's ark, in the construction of a building a trifle larger than a well-planned bee-hive. Many of us have assisted in raising barns and other large buildings requiring heavy frame work, and have thought, while erecting the sticks, one at a time, and raising the heavy mortised plate to its position, that we were doing as our grandfathers did in the days of "auld lang syne," when "raising" was a synonym of frolic, and sometimes. alas! of debauchery. But we have deceived ourselves. In the "good old times," the "broadside," as it was termed, was built upon the ground. Every timber was mortised into its proper place, and the whole firmly bound together with hard wood pins. This broadside. with its intricate net work of braces, must be erected on the foundation, not one stick at a time, as now, but with "a long pull, a strong pull and a pull all together." Often the assembled force would not be sufficient to bear up the weight of the heavy frame, and occasional- ly the pick-poles would slip, with serious, and some- times fatal, results, as was the case when the frame of
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the old meeting-house at Winthrop fell, killing and in- juring several men. Once in place, and firmly pinned, the frame was ready for naming. In selecting a person to perform this service, ready wit and a genius for rhyming were essential points.
Armed with a bottle of spirits, the rhymster would ascend to the top of the frame, and stand at one end upon the ridge-pole. An- other man would take a similar perilous position at the other end and call out, in strong tones, "Here is a very fine frame, and what shall we call it?"
The rhymster would then extemporize an encomium. setting forth, in the rankest of doggerel, the good qual- ities of the timbers beneath him, emphasizing his last word by smashing the bottle and baptizing the frame with its contents. The performance always closed with a ring-wrestle. in which all, both young and old, were supposed to join.
Rum was considered not only essential, but absolute- ly indispensable, and the man who, from conscientious scruples or illiberality, would not furnish it, ran the chances of having his frame lie on the ground until it decayed and fell to pieces.
It has been stated that Chandler built the first framed house in the settlement, and that it afterward became the ell of his mansion which was destroyed by fire in 1880. This statement, although generally accepted as true, is erroneous, as are nearly all the opinions con- cerning the first framed building.
The same genus of pride that leads the average American lad to claim that his great-grandfather took part in the action at Bunker Hill (how thoroughly would the British have been routed were all these state-
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ments true !), is manifested in the Monmouth citizen, in the claim that his father, or grandfather, built the first framed house. To the certain knowledge of the writer, not less than six of these "first framed" houses were erected by as many different individuals.
It is fully authenticated that the first framed house built within the limits of Monmouth and Wales, was erected by Alexander Thompson, on High St., near the spot where the small yellow house now stands. John Chandler lived in this building the year after he came from New Hampshire, which gave rise to the sugges- tion already mentioned. The evolution of the state- ment "Chandler lived in the first framed house," into "Chandler built the first framed house," will be readily understood by any one who has stopped in town over night. The building was sold to Reuben Bassford. who used it for a joiner's shop. Gen. Mclellan, and his partner. Clements, who purchased Bassford's place, used it for a similar purpose. After Mclellan moved to Bath, Master Patch, the schoolmaster, lived in it, and, later. it was occupied by Aunt Sukey Smith, a well known personage of half a century ago. Another oc- cupant, Mrs. Arnoe, was the widow of John Arnoe, who settled on the B. F. Marston place, and mother of the wife of Wm. Day, who lived on the John Keene place in Leeds. Before her marriage to Arnoe, she was "the widow Molly Thompson."
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