USA > Maine > Piscataquis County > Sangerville > Sangerville, Maine, 1814-1914; proceedings of the centennial celebration, June 13, 1914 > Part 4
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SPEECH OF SIR HIRAM MAXIM
remonstrated and said that certainly I was very much like other boys. "Not a bit," said he, "I was in your father's house at one time and you had a big bottle fly. You were holding it by both wings and pulling. Of course one wing came out and then you said in a very thoughtful manner, 'that fly's wings were not put in even ; if they had both been of the same strength they would both have come out at the same time.' Then again, you were the only boy in the world that would eut down a big tree with a butcher's knife. You caught every fish in the river and left nothing for any- one else. "
Of course the people in the State of Maine are nearly all of pure English descent. After living many years in New York City and coming to London it appeared to me that nearly everybody was fresh out from the State of Maine, they looked and talked alike.
I have carried many of my State of Maine habits with me through my life; I have never tasted tobacco in any form; I only commenced to drink wine after I was forty, but the quantity that I drink is not great ; I am, however, very fond of my tea and it is the only drink that I care for.
I wish I could weave some little romance round my sojourn in the town of Sangerville, but I can only think of one little episode : I was not very old at the time; my mother left me with old Ma'am Edgley for the day and it appears that I did not behave myself as I should. The old lady was not particularly fond of children, especially naughty boys of tender age, so she twigged my ear with her thumb and finger ; her nail cut through the rim of my ear and made a notch that has lasted all my lifetime. When my mother returned home and found the blood running down my neck and my shirt saturated there was a lively scene which I shall never forget. I shall have the notch in my ear to remember Ma'am Edgley.
Goodbye and good luck, dear old friends in Sangerville.
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SPRAGUE'S JOURNAL OF MAINE HISTORY
Speech by Honorable Stanley Plummer
Honorable Stanley Plummer of Dexter spoke in part as follows : Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen :
I have been long out of practice in the art of public speaking and did not come here to make a speech, as your committee well knows. But I was born in this town and that is why I am here to- day for I have little respect for the man who does not love the place of his nativity-the old town in which, wherever else his feet may have straved, wherever else his interests may have centered and his life focused, the first toddling step of his infancy was taken.
Colonel Plummer then spoke for some time in a vein reminis- cent of the people and events of his early life, saying of his mother's birthplace : On the way to this celebration when we approached the high land at Jackson's Corner, near the spot where Uncle Sam Farn- ham, hale and hearty at eighty-four, was killed by lightning, with tender emotions I looked upon the fields on which my maternal grandfather toiled hard for his daily bread and very little more; the very house in which my dear mother's eyes first saw the light of day, July 4, 1825, the old spring, too far away to suit our modern ideas of convenience, from which she helped to carry water, sweeter than the sweet waters of Europe which fall into the Golden Horn, for their frugal meals, and the remnants of the beautiful grove with its rocks and big boulders still undisturbed, on which as a little girl she delighted to play and as a big girl to sit and dream and dream as is the wont of our New England maidens of all generations.
After more reminiscences suggested by the road leading to the farm of his paternal grandfather, the big woods which have now dis- appeared, and the immense boulder which his Bible-reading grand- father told him was cleft in twain at the time of the crucifixion of Jesus, and the village, in his boyhood called the "mink-hole," but now thanks to water power development, one of the neatest, thrifti- est and most beautiful in the state, he closed as follows :
Now, Mr. Chairman, while I am not ready to say that Sanger- ville is the best town on earth, coming as I do from the town which touches its southern border, I unhesitatingly say, it is next to the best.
One regret presses constantly on my mind and heart today and
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STANLEY PLUMMER
that is that Owen B. Williams, William P. Oakes, Charles A. Clark, Doctor E. A. Thompson and the grand old centenarian, Moses Carr, did not live to see this anniversary today. How pleasant for us as well as, doubtless, for them would it be could they be here in body as we love to hope they may be in spirit.
Fortunate is the town which has a citizenship so loyal and pa- triotic that it could not let this anniversary day pass without due celebration and fortunate is the town which numbers among its liv- ing native sons such an orator as Willis E. Parsons, such a his- torian as John F. Sprague, and such a poet as William Smith Knowlton.
HONORABLE STANLEY PLUMMER
was born February 25, 1846, in Sangerville, Maine. When seven years of age, he removed with his parents to Dexter, Maine, which has since been his domicile, except when he has been absent in the public service.
He was educated in the public schools, Foxcroft and East Corinth Academies, Bow- doin College, and the Albany Law School.
At the age of twenty-two, he became a member of the House of Representatives in the State Legislature from Dexter. He was county supervisor of public schools for Penob- scot County for two years; was chosen city solicitor of Bangor, but before entering upon his duties went to Washington to be chief clerk of the Department of the Interior. After two years' service in that position, he was made internal revenue agent, and served for years in all parts of the country. He was postmaster of the United States Senate for four years. In 1895 he was again a member of the State House of Representatives, and from 1899 to 1903 he was State Senator from the Tenth Senatorial District. In 1896 he was a Reed delegate to the Republican National Convention held at St. Louis, and the same year he presided over the Republican State Convention of Maine. During the four years, 1888 to 1892, he was colonel on the staff of the governor of Maine.
In 1904 he married Miss Elisabeth Bur- bank, born in New Hampshire but then a resident of Boston, and together they made a tour of Palestine, Egypt and Europe. In
1911 they made another extended tour of Europe.
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SPRAGUE'S JOURNAL OF MAINE HISTORY
HONORABLE WILLIAM SMITH KNOWLTON To whom reference is made on page 110. (Courtesy of Bangor Daily News)
Remembrance in Rhyme
BY PROF. WILLIAM S. KNOWLTON.
I haven't a theme, I knew 'twouldn't do, To polities talk with election in view.
And yet I lament, with tearful regret,
I can't say a word for the sweet suffragette.
If I talk about sin, and things that are evil
The lawyer will think I mean him, or the devil. If I talk about death, that monster so grim, The doctor will think I am squinting at him. But, says the croaker, "the Centennial Is the theme of the day for Poet and all."
But Pegasus' flight, tho' near to the stars, Unshackled, free-lanced, and leaping all bars, Will fall to the earth in direful distress, In attempting to follow Bro. Parsons' address. And Sprague, so skilled in antiquarian lore, Can produce the log-book of old Father Noah,
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REMEMBRANCE IN RHYME
Could tell if the apple that Eve did devour Was bitter or sweet, or pleasant, or sour. Fair Sangerville, All hail! thy birth, Fairest land, to me, on earth. Each pond and river, hill and dale, Wood and stream and grassy vale, I love not less, though long away, The prodigal returns to-day. Like Manhannock's rocky shore, Black Stream lily padded o'er, Majestic hills, whose native oak Still survives the axman's stroke, The towering church upon the hill,
The blacksmith's shop, and Carleton's Mill,
The fairest farins in all the State And orchard fields, select and great, These all come back to me to-day, A tired child, come home to play. And what more lovely stream than this, Our boundary line, Piscataquis? Ah! Centre Pond, a sparkling gem, A diamond in a diadem, I sat, one day, beside that lake, Where every echo echoes make. Where water lilies fill the air, With perfume never known elsewhere.
Where oft, at morn, or eve, or noon,
Weird notes were heard, of duck or loon.
The circling wood of spruce or pine, Perfumed the air like eglantine, The white birch, through the denser shade,
Fantastic ghosts and shadows made. The daisied field of Spooner's land, Seemed a tiara's golden band. The fish hawk, circling round for prey, The lambs in Flanders' field at play, The tiny waves along the shore, Sang their chansons o'er and o'er. The fragrant fir distilled its balm, The pine tree sighed a holy calm.
In retrospection still I see They all come back to-day to me. Here Father Sawyer preached and prayed, And married many a swain and maid. On Muster Days-but stop, my pen --- There wasn't prohibition then.
My early youth I now recall, And memory reproduces all. Who don't remember Johnny Cleaves, With paper cap and rolled up sleeves, With quaint conceit and ready joke? He always spat before he spoke.
And Joseph Fowler, tall and slim, Sad of face and long of limb. He led the choir on Sunday, too, And sang as only saints can do. Stood first on heels and then on toes, And sang "Old Hundred" through his nose.
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SPRAGUE'S JOURNAL OF MAINE HISTORY
And Colonel Oaks, with beaver hat, Gold headed cane and silk cravat, Was quite sublime, inspiring, grand. Lord of mansion, stock, and land.
Silas Coburn's wrinkled face, Lapse of time will ne'er efface. He dyed his hair at sixty-two, Put on the soldier's coat of blue. More lasting fame he said he found, Than on domestic battle ground.
Remember Aunt Lois, just under the hill,
Her humble abode is standing there still.
When arrayed in her best, with neckchief of blue,
She surpassed any fashion plate, ancient or new.
Even the suit Queen of Sheba had on
When she humbugged that wily old King Solomon.
She regarded the novel as a work of the devil,
Put poetry, too, all on the same level. Read Uncle Tom's Cabin, every word, through and through, And read it again, then read it anew.
"Papy" Gilman, called the "Squire," Of politics would never tire. He'd talk all night and sleep all day,
And drove an antique "one-hoss shay." Remember Leonard Dearth, "By Gad,"
Was the only oath he had. He made sweet cider, so they say,
And mowed potato tops for hay.
He once had been a Democrat, And oft among the leaders sat.
He then became Republican,
And read the Tribunes, every one.
My father was an old time Whig,
Of the Daniel Webster Rig. When Daniel died, and Clay and Pratt,
My father turned a Democrat, So he and Dearth could ne'er agree,
And both were stubborn as could be.
They'd argue long with zeal and zest, And never give the tongue a rest.
And Heircey the Bishop, though his stature was short, Had a voice like Goliath of Gath.
His whisper was mild as the dove's in its cote,
But Niagara roared in his wrath.
And good Deacon Drake, I remember quite well,
He told me one Sunday I was sliding to hell.
I ran to the house, put up my sled, And spent the whole day in terror and dread.
The Deacon came of Puritan stock,
Was firm in his faith as Plymouth's big rock.
He hated the Baptists, and put on a level
Universalist, Methodist, Bishop and Devil. And Brother Bridges, tall and straight, I heard him preach at eighty-eight. A grand old man, with classic face,
He might have filled a broader place. He preached on Sundays, not for pay, And worked his farm each other day. And Brother Perry, staid and slow,
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REMEMBRANCE IN RHYME
With hair as white as driven snow, He'd preach at ten and afternoon, And eat his lunch in church at noon. In winter time, when north winds drove, They'd eat their dinner round the stove, They then would fill a long T. D., And smoke and talk Theology. At one o'clock with might and main,
The preacher would expound again. The wreaths of smoke that round his head
A whitened halo seemed to spread,
An incense from an urn of elay, That drove all bitter thoughts away.
While listening to some rash tirade,
When preacher seekd to just upbraid,
I've often thought that a T. D.
Would soften his theology. Their children they trained in the fear of the Lord,
Prayed with them first, then handled the rod.
The boys were taught to reap and mow, To hold the plow, and reap and sow. And when he drove his old "mobile." It was a barrow with one wheel. They weren't allowed to courting run
Till they were fully twenty-one, And when the elimax came at last, To make the contract strong and fast,
He'd to the old man straightway hie With sheepish look and downeast eye, And ask, as though in colie pain, "Please-Sir-may-I-have Mary Jane?" The girls were taught to knit and sew. And spin the wool, and flax, and tow. They'd on cld Dolly's bare back hop, Take her to mill or blacksmith shop.
They did their hair up in a knot, Each satisfied with what she'd got. And looked as sweet in homespun tow, As costly silk, or calico. Each mother saw, when Jane was wed, She had a cow and feather bed. * * * * * * *
When Rebel shots on Sumpter fell The house of Clark, in Sangerville, Became a camp of warriors true, Each one arrayed in Northern Blue, Went forth the Country's life to save, And wrench the shackles from the slave.
They are sleeping now. For a moment let's pause, And let our heart beats record our applause. And others there are who gave up their all, And gathered at onee at Abraham's call, And millions of men, through the length of the land, Honor, today, that patriot band.
The sons of William G. Clark referred to were Whiting S., James and Frank, who were members of the First Maine Heavy Artillery, and Colonel Charles A. Clark, who was a member of the Sixth Maine Regiment. There were three other sons, George. Eugene and William G. Clark. These last named were too young to enlist. William G. is the only one now living, who is a lawyer in Cedar Rapids, Iowa .- EDITOR.
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WILLIAM PITT OAKES
Son of Colonel William and Mary (Weymouth) Oakes and a direct descendant of Nathaniel Oakes (Oak) who came to Massachusetts from England in 1660. He was born in Sangerville, March 8, 1838, and died in Foxcroft, Maine, February 1, 1913. He was a graduate of Colby Col- lege. For many years he was a successful school teacher and was a member of the Piscata- quis Bar. He was far famed throughout Eastern Maine as a very competent civil engineer and land surveyor. A writer for the press at the time of his decease well said of him: "Few men in Piscataquis County have left a record so full of usefulness, good citizenship, fearless in- tegrity and sound judgment as has William Pitt Oakes."
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SPRAGUE'S JOURNAL OF MAINE HISTORY
MOSES CARR
Born in Vienna, Maine, April 22, 1810. Died in Sangerville, July 13, 1911. The picture shown on page 154 was taken on his one hundredth birthday.
Much of the business prosperity of Sangerville is due to the energies of Mr. Carr and it was largely through his efforts that the beautiful Univer- salist church in Sangerville village was built.
FRED H. CARR
Grandson of Moses Carr and one of the proprietors and the Manager of the Carr Woolen Mills in Sangerville. His picture is shown on page 158.
DAVID RAE CAMPBELL
Was born in the city of Glasgow, Scotland, July 30, 1830. While a small boy the family moved to Galaspiels, Scotland, the seat of the woolen industry of that country. He served an apprenticeship of seven years learning this trade. Believing the opportunities for a young man were better in the United States, he came here in 1855, landing in New York nearly penniless and had to take a job carrying a hod to get money to take him to Rhode Island, where he secured a position of foreman in the carding de- partment of a woolen mill. He worked as foreman in several places in Rhode Island and Massachusetts for several years, coming to Dexter. Maine, in 1860. After working a few years for the Dexter Mills he leased a small custom carding mill at Corinna, running there a season or two, and it not proving satisfactory, he with a Mr. Lewis leased the old Copeland mill at Dexter. Their partnership only lasted a short time, he purchasing the interest of Mr. Lewis, carried on this business until 1867, when the plant was burned. He then came to Sangerville and in company with a Mr. William Fairgreve, started the mills there. Their partnership was soon ended, and alone, and later in company with his sons, Angus and David, carried on the business successfully up to the time of his death, February 15, 1910. His picture is on page 156.
ALFONSO F. MARSH,
Chairman of the executive committee, chairman of the historical committee and a member of several of the other committees, is the man to whom, with his capable associates, all credit belongs for the success of Sangerville's Centennial; indeed but for their enthusiasm and hard work the celebration would not have taken place.
Mr. Marsh was born in Greenville July 27, 1861. He was educated in the public schools of Bradley, Maine, the Maine Central Institute at Pittsfield, and took a special two years' course in chemistry at the University of Maine. He was graduated from the College of Pharmacy in Massachusetts in the class of 1888. For several years he was engaged in the drug business in Old Town, and while a resident of that city served as superintendent of schools.
In 1906 Mr. Marsh purchased the H. L. Densmore drug store in Sangerville and since that time has conducted one of the strictly modern stores of the county.
In 1910 he was elected county treasurer on the Democratic ticket and served the county well while in this office, conducting the affairs in a strictly business-like manner and meeting the approbation of all the citizens of the county.
145
LIST OF CENTENNIAL COMMITTEES
List of the Centennial Committees
EXECUTIVE COMMITTEE
Alfonso F. Marsh, Chairman.
John A. Wheeler,
Leslie M. Seabury, Secretary,
Leslie O. Demeritt,
John Farr, Treasurer,
Will E. Leland,
James Lynch,
Fred S. Campbell,
Charles H. Sawyer,
George P. Williams.
RECEPTION COMMITTEE.
Mr. and Mrs. C. Winslow Thomas,
Mr. and Mrs. Sanger A. Knowlton,
Mr. and Mrs. Leslie O. Demeritt, Representing Patrons of Husbandry.
Mr. and Mrs. Omar F. Carr, Representing the Masonic orders.
Mr. and Mrs. Alfonso F. Marsh, Representing Independent Order Foresters.
Mr. and Mrs. James Lynch, Representing Knights of Pythias.
Mr. and Mrs. Stillman Hutchins,
Representing Ancient Order United Workmen.
Mr. and Mrs. C. Leslie Weymouth, D. of H.
HISTORICAL COMMITTEE.
Alfonso F. Marsh, Will E. Leland, Walter R. Farnham.
COMMITTEE ON ADVERTISING.
Elmer J. Prince, Alfonso F. Marsh,
Leslie M. Seabury.
BALL COMMITTEE.
John Farr, Floor Manager, Alfonso F. Marsh, Assistant Floor Manager.
Aids. Thomas C. Parshley, Sangerville. Orville D. Carr, Sangerville. George P. Williams, Sangerville. Harry M. Bush, Dover. Frank Washburn. Guilford. Paul D. Sanders, Greenville.
JUDGES ON PARADE.
Archie L. Getchell, Bar Harbor. Harry M. Bush,' Dover. Hiram Percy Maxim, Hartford, Conn.
COMMITTEE ON SPORTS. Harold M. Carr, Forest L. Hutchinson, Arthur A. Witham.
S. Valentine Ripley,
John L. Howard,
Elmer J. Prince,
Forest L. Hutchinson,
Walter R. Farnham,
146 SPRAGUE'S JOURNAL OF MAINE HISTORY
COMMITTEE ON PARADE.
James Lynch, S. Valentine Ripley,
Fred S. Campbell,
John L. Howard, George P. Williams, Will E. Leland,
John L. Demerritt. COMMITTEE ON DECORATIONS.
Elmer J. Prince, Fred S. Campbell, Walter R. Farnham.
PROGRAM COMMITTEE.
Alfonso F. Marsh, John Farr, James Lynch,
Harold M. Carr, Will E. Leland, Elmer J. Prince.
COMMITTEE ON REFRESHMENTS.
John Farr.
COMMITTEE ON MUSIC FOR PROGRAM.
Harold M. Carr,
Clifton E. Wass,
Chas. N. Stanhope, Mrs. Maud Genthner.
COMMITTEE ON COLLECTION OF ANTIQUES.
D. Alden Jackson,
Josiah F. Prince,
Kendall P. Knowlton,
George Pond.
Freeland D. Thompson,
Hannibal H. Campbell,
Charles Oakes,
Martin V. Smith,
Frank B. Lewis,
S. Valentine Ripley,
Gideon Dexter,
Melvin J. Jewett,
Enoch A. Flanders,
Samuel M. Gile,
Forest L. Hutchinson,
George H. Douty,
Jedediah P. Leland.
Captain Abner Turner Wade
(A tribute written by his nephew, Win. O. Ayer, Jr.)
(Read before the Piscataquis Historical Society, January 24, 1914.)
I have been asked to prepare a memorial of my loved uncle, Captain Abner Turner Wade, to be read before this Historical society and to be preserved in its archives.
This purpose to preserve the memories of noted men and women who have lived and wrought faithfully, is a worthy one.
Charles Reade says in one of his books :- "Not a day passes over the earth but men and women of no note do great deeds, speak great words and suffer noble sorrows."
We all recognize the truth of this; but it would be well if effort were made more insistently and systematically to do what you are doing, viz .- to see toit that such worthy lives shall not be forgotten, but that record be made of them for the instruction and encouragement of a wider circle of men and women who come after them.
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CAPTAIN ABNER TURNER WADE
Noble lives have been lived in the Piscataquis valley of whom we are justly proud. Worthy lives are now being lived. It is not right that such lives should suffer obscuration and eclipse just for the circumstance that these worthy ones are no longer seen on our streets, in our places of concourse and in our homes.
We are continually blessed by their posthumous influence, good thoughts and good deeds after their voices are hushed in death and their bodies committed to the tomb. The remembrance of their names and their personal traits should be cherished not only by the inner circle of surviving relatives and intimate friends, but by the wider company who always have the welfare of the community, state and nation at heart.
The prevalence of community clubs, local historical societies and like organi- zations make this possible to an extent never realized in the generations gone.
You of this organization are doing a useful service for those who shall come after you in thus seeking to keep clearly and distinctly in memory, not only the forces that have made for community betterment, but the very names, biographies and characteristics of those in whom those forces resided.
Though Captain Wade has been absent from the walks of life nearly two decades, it can hardly be said he is beginning to be forgotten. Scores of young people who perhaps were not old enough to know him personally, have heard so much about him through the conversations of their elders, that he surely may not be classed with Charles Reade's people of "no note" in this rising generation.
He was so really a leader or prominent figure in the social, political and re- ligious life, not alone of Sangerville but of all the region round about, especially in Piscataquis County, that it seems even now that he must be active still in counsel and labor.
His home life was such that his children and their descendants for generations cannot cease to be proud of their descent from him.
He was a careful student of genealogy and his family is in possession of a genealogical record of great interest and painstaking accuracy, the product of his research and skill.
He inspired others, at least one other, by his example, to undertake work in the same direction. To that one he once said, with that well remembered twinkle of his eye, accompanied with solemn tone that partly concealed the laugh that lay close behind it :- "Better not be too inquisitive about your ancestors; you might run up against one that was hung."
The Wade family need have no such fear in looking over the long lists brought to perfection by his care and industry.
The Wades are of English descent. Captain Wade's ancestor, Nicholas Wade (he used sometimes to refer to him as "the original Old Nick") settled in Scituate, Massachusetts, on the "South Shore."
There he builded him a house and built so solidly and wisely that the same house is in commission to this day, being occupied by one of his direct descendants of the eighth generation.
Captain Wade's grandfather, also known as Captain Wade (in his case a military title) was of the fifth generation from Nicholas, born in 1746. He served in the Continental army the entire period of the war of the Revolution; that is, upwards of eight years, enjoying the confidence of General Washington and attaining the rank of captain. He was a sturdy patriot, a brave soldier, gifted beyond many of his contemporaries in strong and heroic character.
Our Captain Wade remembered his Grandsire Abner as an old man of marked personality, a born leader, of positive convietions and unswerving integrity. The boy Abner never tired listening to his grandsire's tales of the war and was doubtless deeply influenced by his lofty ideals.
The Captain Wade of the Revolutionary war came to this State after the war, settling in Woolwich near the mouth of the Kennebec River. He married in Woolwich a bride from Kingston, Massachusetts.
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