USA > Maine > Cumberland County > Sebago Lake Land in history, legend & romance > Part 6
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reptile, and, pinning it to the ground, she severed its head with her ready knife. It is said upon one occasion, having filled her pails with berries, and having captured a rattler and a woodchuck, Betty twisted and tied a withe around her waist, attached the woodchuck on one side and the rattler upon the other, and taking a pail of berries in either hand, she proceeded to her home more than a mile away. Arriving there, she dressed and cooked the "Chuck" for the family dinner. She fried the oil from the rattler using it as a remedy for her husband's rheumatism. The oil extracted from the "chuck" was used for lighting the home at night in an old- time invention called a "slut".
In the attractive village of Raymond neat well-kept resi- dences line each side of the highway in the shade of ancient elm trees. It contains a few interesting old houses, such as the Morton Homestead, built in 1785, with its original six- panel doors, pumpkin pine flooring, and a wainscot made of a single board twenty-seven inches wide, and thirteen and one half feet long. Also nearby is the Hayden House, similar to the Morton Homestead in architectural style. It was built in 1786, and has its original hand made clapboards.
An interesting brick structure, too, is the century old Raymond Inn, known as the Witham Place, built by Samuel Witham, a bricklayer. It was famous as a tavern in the good old days, and its patrons came from miles around to dance to the popular fiddle of Royal Manchester.
The state has a fish hatchery here, located in Panther Run which connects Panther Pond with Sebago Lake. Its various buildings contain rows of long tanks filled with water piped from the river. Salmon eggs are hatched in these vats, and the nearby pools harbor great numbers of fish,-as many as ninety thousand two-year-old landlocked salmon are released from the hatchery at one time.
Within the confines of the township of Raymond are a series of small lakes or ponds, which paradoxically enough bear names that, to quote a summer visitor, "are too sugges-
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tive of the jungle". These are such names as "Great Rattlesnake", "Little Rattlesnake," "Panther Pond and Panther River", and in the distance is the giant form of Rattlesnake Mountain. A veritable "tempest in a teapot" occurred back in 1925, when the cottagers wanted to change the name of Great Rattlesnake Pond to Crescent Lake, (by which it is now generally known), as a name they considered more suitable in its description of that beautiful body of water. This met with some opposition however, as a Boston lady remonstrated that "the name Rattlesnake Pond appeals to those who are seeking adventure, and affords a lure that the new name would not have." The State Committee of Interior Waters voted no change, and officially the original name stays.
Although it has been many years since the last rattlesnake was killed in this section, Rattlesnake Mountain derives its name from this reptile. This long low mountain, about three miles in length, and the nearest mountain to Casco Bay, was entirely in Raymond until 1841, when the town of Casco claimed a piece of it. An old man of the mountain known as "Ben Smith", the snake man, who came from Dover, New Hampshire, settled in the wild land at Raymond Hills, five miles from Rattlesnake Mountain in 1787. He found the mountain inhabited by many rattle- snakes. Consequently, it is said, he gave the mountain its appropriate name. He marketed snake oil for rheumatism and neuralgic pains in Portland and the country round. To prove that his oil was genuine, Smith carried two or three live snakes in a box with a strap around it. When he called at a store or house, he took from the box a live snake and put it inside his open shirt next to his skin. He charged a small fee for this exhibition. A hundred years or so ago a great fire caused by careless lumbermen burnt over the mountain and destroyed the reptiles.
Panther Pond, or as the old settlers called it Painter's
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MANNING MANSION, SOUTH CASCO, BUILT IN 1810 BY RICHARD MANNING, UNCLE OF NOVELIST. THIS HOUSE WAS ONCE KNOWN AS "MANNING'S FOLLY".
"THE IMAGES" FROM WHICH CAPTAIN FRYE MADE HIS PERILOUS LEAP. HAWTHORNE'S CAVE IS AT BASE OF CLIFF.
LUNE!
Weather-stained homestead of Nathaniel Hawthorne, in South Casco, where he spent his happy youth. "Nat's Rock", young Hawthorne's favorite fishing place at head of Dingley Brook where it flows from Thomas Pond in South Casco.
HARRISON PICTURED ABOVE, BRIDGTON BELOW, - "TWO LITTLE VIL- LAGES GROWN GRAY IN THE SHADE OF GNARLED OLD TREES."
Lt. theo Bald
FAMOUS NARROW GAUGE TRAIN AT HARRISON STATION. THIS RAILROAD CON- NECTED HARRISON AND BRIDGTON WITH THE MAIN LINE OF TRAVEL.
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Air view Harrison. Long Lake is at lower right, and Crystal Lake (Anonymous Pond) at upper left, with village between the two bodies of water. Deertrees Theater is at upper left center. (Courtesy Gannett Photo)
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NAPLES VILLAGE AS IT APPEARED IN 1923, BEFORE ITS PRESENT TRANSFORMATION INTO A VACATION CENTER.
(Courtesy Gannett Photo)
Air view East Sebago. Foreground left, Spaulding Memorial Library, foreground right, Fitch Homestead, oldest house in Sebago, right background Fitch Lumber Mill on site of first mill built by William Fitch, Esq. in 1798.
(Courtesy Gannett Photo)
uuum
Air view North Sebago. Foreground right and left Laughing Loon Lodge, large house right Will Nason Homestead, road left from main road leads to "The Folly", next left Round Table Lodge and Sebago Lake Camps, opposite right Shaw's Store, just beyond left North Sebago Post Office, across road ball-ground and Nason's Beach, and in extreme background North Sebago Church.
RAYMOND AND CASCO
Pond, was given its name for the then most fearful animal of the northern woods, - the panther.
On the highway, a short distance west of Raymond Village about fifty feet above the road, is Pulpit Rock, a huge smooth projection five and one-half feet high and equally wide, which very closely resembles a pulpit. A curious leg- end is told about this rock. It seems that the Devil was accustomed to use this stone as a pulpit from which to preach to the Indians, and on one occasion when he was speaking to about a thousand of them, one of the braves laughed at him. The insult so amazed the preacher that he stamped his foot and thereupon all of the ground at the southwest where the Indians were, sank fifty feet and every Indian went out of sight, leaving a swamp. This story must be true, because the swamp is still at the southwestern part of the neck today.
Bordering Jordan Bay, which is noted for the smoothness of its waters, is Raymond Cape, a scenic shore route along a four-mile strip of wooded land projecting into Sebago. On the tip of the Cape, flint of the quality used by Indians in making their arrow and spear heads, skinning knives, and tomahawks is frequently found. The first settler was Daniel Mason, who came by boat from Standish, and built his house on the north shore near the Images in 1818. He was joined later by his brother-in-law, Samuel Tarbox, who, with his wife, was frozen to death in a severe snowstorm in 1819, while he was returning from the mill on foot with a bag of corn.
It was one of those distressing tragedies of early pioneer life that rarely if ever occur in these days. The Tarbox family consisting of mother, father, and four children, the eldest a girl of twelve, lived in a cabin on Raymond Cape. It had been a very severe winter, with storm following storm, cutting off all communications with their neighbors. Their provisions became nearly exhausted, and the father was compelled to set off on the long journey to get a bag of
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corn ground at the village mill. He reached the mill safely, and with the bag on his shoulders, started to retrace his steps. Meanwhile another storm came up, and within a short distance of his house, he sank down exhausted, unable to take another step.
He called for help, and his wife, anxiously awaiting his return, heard his cries and quickly left everything to go to his assistance. She soon found that she could make no head- way in the deep drifts, so returned, and donning some of her husband's clothing, reached him while he was still alive. She couldn't move him, so taking off her coat, she covered him the best she could and set off herself in the direction of the nearest farmhouse for help. After a short struggle, her breath failed her and she sank down exhausted.
The children, left alone in the darkness, huddled around the fire, under the protection of the little girl of twelve, who kept blowing the horn throughout the night, trying to attract attention to their plight. But the storm closed them in for three days and three nights, before the alarmed neighbors could reach them. After a search they found the frozen bodies of the parents, and in the distress and excitement, the little tot of three had wandered off alone, and almost lost her life, before she was rescued and taken into the Hawthorne family as one of their own.
Surrounded by wild animals, Mr. Mason lived alone on the Cape for many years.
On the road from South Casco to the Cape is a large wooden tower with a bell fire alarm. West of the tower across the field, is a large Rock and Shell formation about fifty feet high. It contains a cave in which, it is said, a four- teen-year-old girl was held prisoner by the Indians for three years. Her family, finally discovering her whereabouts, led an attack on the Indians and rescued her. In a wooded section of the Cape is the original Luther Gulick Camp, said
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to be the first summer camp of its kind in the United States. It is still maintained and operated by members of the Gulick family.
South Casco has long been noted as a delightful summer resort and a haven for a multitude of summer camps for boys and girls, but its chief claim to fame, perhaps, lies in its romantic and historic association with the Hawthorne fam- ily, for it was here that the great novelist, Nathaniel Hawthorne spent many of his boyhood days. He often referred to it later in life as the "happiest period in my life". The novelist was eight or nine years of age when he came to South Casco in the year 1813, at a time when that quiet isolated community consisted of but a few houses, sur- rounded by virgin forests in the midst of a lake country, then little known to the outside world.
Mrs. Hawthorne, a widow with three children, came to the Maine wilderness from her old home in Salem, Massachusetts, at the suggestion of her brother, Richard Manning, who was already established as a prominent resi- dent, and was proprietor of considerable property in the neighborhood. He had arrived there about twelve years earlier, and had opened a blacksmith shop and store near the outlet of Dingley Brook, on the old Stage road. Here he had built for himself an imposing mansion, - a much finer house in all its appointments than any other in the region. The cost of the structure was so great that the natives referred to it as "Manning's Folly".
He built a home for his sister a short distance away across the brook, and there Mrs. Hawthorne and her family lived for fourteen years. The youthful Nathaniel remained here at home until it was necessary for him to go elsewhere in order to obtain schooling, but he always returned eagerly to his South Casco home during his vacations until his gradua- tion from Bowdoin College.
In a boyish diary which he kept, he frequently wrote of his great love of his Maine home, and of the freedom of the
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life that he enjoyed there. Here he ran wild, fishing all day long, or shooting with an old "fowling-piece,-"
"How well", he writes, "I recall the summer days when, with my gun, I roamed at will through the Maine woods, and during the moonlight nights of winter,.I would skate all alone upon Sebago Lake, with the deep shadows of the icy hills, far away from home. Wearying with the exhaustion of skating, I would sometimes take refuge in a log cabin, where half a tree would be burning on the broad hearth. I would sit in the ample chimney and look at the stars through the great aperture through which the flames went roaring up."
The favorite fishing place of young Hawthorne was at the head of Dingley Brook where it flows from Thomas Pond, and the large flat rock on which he fished, or sat while read- ing, is still known as "Nat's Rock". He spent many happy hours sailing his little boat on the lake, and a favorite haunt of his was the curious cave-like opening which lies at the base of the "Images".
The Manning Mansion is standing in a state of wonderful preservation, much the same as it looked at the time it was built in 1810. It is a large square two-story structure, with hip roof and massive chimneys, with eight fireplaces. Its interior is decorated with period wall paper, and all the window glass was imported from Belgium.
In almost startling contrast however, is the gaunt, barren. barn-like building that was the home of the Hawthorne family for so many years. After the departure of Mrs. Hawthorne to her former home in Salem, the venerable old structure fell into disrepute and decay. For a time, during stage coach days, it was known as Colonel Scribner's Stage Coach Tavern, then at a later period with its tall square chimneys removed, and the floors between the two stories taken out, it served as a place of worship. Today it is used as a community hall for public gatherings.
Barring the touch of weather-stain and time, the old
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house with its hallowed memories still retains outwardly much the same appearance as it did when tenanted by the famous family, whose name it bears. Nevertheless the large wooden homestead and its surroundings suggest an air of isolated desolation. Not so long ago there could still be seen old time mementoes of Hawthorne days, such as the fences, since disappeared, and the garden where Mrs. Hawthorne was wont to raise vegetables, and the big gnarled fruit trees brought especially from Salem.
But these are things of the past, thus rendering its loneli- ness more complete. .
The little village of Casco was formerly a part of Raymond, and was not incorporated in a separate township until 1841, more than seventy years after its first settle- ment by Captain Joseph Dingley in 1771. Situated beside the little bay formed by the south end of Pleasant Lake, it extends in a long line running parallel with the western shore of the lake. In the early days it was a back town, somewhat isolated. Off the main routes of travel, it developed into a community peculiar to itself, its people depending more or less on their own resources for amusement and entertain- ment. In the summertime there were picnics and dancing to the strains of the country fiddler, and in the winter frolic- ing parties were held before huge blazing fires, after a hard day's logging in the forests.
A few miles from the village is an interesting subject for those who enjoy old buildings. It is the hundred and fifty year old Bell Hill church, picturesquely situated on the sum- mit of Bell Hill, - one of the oldest churches in this section of Maine, in which services are still held.
It has several points which have attracted the attention of antiquarians and historians, - the quaint old-fashioned latches on the doors, and, conspicuous above the pulpit, the
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dates 1797-1897. It has a curious ascent to the tower, greatly resembling that of Old North Church in Boston, and its box- like pews are somewhat similar in style to those of South Church in the same city. From its belfry can be obtained a view of surpassing beauty, embracing the lakes and hills for miles around.
There is an ancient burying-ground of unusual interest just across the road from the church, with age-old tomb- stones almost hidden by growth of vine and shrubbery, that date from the early eighteenth century. Two mysterious graves are pointed out to the visitor, and it is believed they were there before the place was converted into a cemetery. They are abnormally long,-one of them being more than seven feet, and as they are side by side, the speculation is that they contain a man and his wife. The headstones are so large as to attract attention, but no sign of name or inscrip- ion is to be found. The general conclusion is that these strange tombs mark the "Happy Hunting Ground" of two Indians of enormous size.
The strange story is told, legend or otherwise, of an odd character who once, it is said lived in Casco, that might be worthy of mention in the "Believe It or Not" column of Ripley. He was known in the village as 'Henry', an eccentric runner, who also qualified as a "mover of mountains".
According to many persons who were neighbors or acquaintances of this extraordinary personage, running sixty miles a day was a common and frequent occurrence in his life. Round trips, barefoot and alone, were often made by Henry to such remote points as Portland, Lewiston, Mt. Washington, or if the impulse called for a longer trek, Boston might be the turning point of his run.
Long distance running however, was only one of the many eccentricities of this wonderful man. For ten years he was employed on a farm located about a mile southeast of Rattlesnake Mountain. During the summer the sun dis- appears behind its highest peak nearly an hour earlier than
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at a mile north or a mile south. The farmer was known as a hard worker from before daylight until after dark. It occurred to Henry if he could lower that mountain, it would give his employer more hours of daylight to accomplish his work on the farm.
Hence, after working hard all day long, Henry would ascend Rattlesnake Mountain, which rises one thousand forty-six feet above sea-level (four hundred feet from its base) taking with him a lantern, a crowbar, and some say, a jack-screw, and work all night in his attempt to move that mountain. At the point of his activities, this mountain ter- minates in a sharp ridge, having an incline of forty-five degrees for a distance of sixty or seventy feet, then a perpen- dicular drop of seventy or eighty feet. The momentum gained by the big boulders, some weighing at least a ton, would carry in their path, trees a foot or more in diameter. The crash would often arouse the sleeping natives a mile and a half distant.
This "mountain moving" went on night after night, month after month, and year after year. As a result of this one-man job, there is a mass of boulders, which is estimated to be not less than four hundred and fifty feet long, two hundred feet wide, and an average depth of fifteen feet. Taking the above figures as a basis means that this contains one million three hundred and fifty thousand cubic feet. About one eighth of an acre of this pile of stones can plainly be seen from the highway between East Raymond and Webb's Mills, and the rest of the mass which is about a mile from the road can be reached by a well-defined trail.
From the foregoing idiosyncracies and mental peculiar- ities, it might be naturally assumed that this remarkable person was a moron or of lesser degree of intelligence. This however was far from the facts of the case. In a soft pleasing voice he would converse intelligently on subjects political, and other topics of the times. He was a good singer of hymns
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and also composed songs. In moral conduct he was a gentleman, and outstanding traits were his honesty and truthfulness. He was fond of children, and particularly polite, courteous, and respectful to the fair sex. He never married.
The final chapter of his life might make material for the superstitiously minded to speculate upon. Scores and scores of times he, over a long period of time, would suddenly exclaim, "Eastman Bean, seldom seen." Eastman Bean, a farmer in Otisfield, fell from a load of hay with a pitchfork in his hands, and in landing, the tines penetrated his body, resulting in his death.
In sliding from the haymow to the barn floor, Henry fell in the path of a pitch-fork, and lost his life in the same man- ner as Eastman Bean.
Bridgton Harrison
T o the summer folk who dote on their beloved Bridgton and return to it year after year, the knowledge that it once rejoiced in the strange name of "Pondicherry" might seem somewhat incongruous. However, such was the fact during the first ten years of its existence.
The reason for so naming it seems to be obscure, and even the origin of the name itself is in doubt. Some historians say that the appellation is taken from a town of the same name in Ireland, while others ascribe the source to a remote spot in Asia. Coming nearer home however, is one other version, - the abundance of wild cherries that grew around the shores of the ponds in that vicinity, and that still remains a prominent characteristic of the place.
Happily however, it was renamed Bridgton in 1771, in honor of Moody Bridges, its leading proprietor. Bridgton's history dates from 1761, when the State of Massachusetts granted a township to Moody Bridges, Benjamin Milliken, Thomas Perley, and fifty-six others. The grant provided that each settler clearing twelve acres, erecting a house, and settling his family on the land before 1771, should be allotted a hundred acres. Shares of land were set aside for the church, the first settled minister, the town school, and for the benefit of Harvard College. It is to be assumed that Moody Bridges, for whom the town is named, had no active interest in the future welfare of the township, for he ap- peared no longer on the scene, and was merely a land speculator, as were most of the proprietors of that period.
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The first actual settler of the Bridgton territory is recorded as Captain Benjamin Kimball, a sailor from Ipswich, Massachusetts, who established himself in this beauty spot in the spring of 1768. His agreement with the owners of the land was that he would settle in the township by the tenth of June of that year, and would build a convenient house for the entertainment of travelers by the tenth of September, also to keep a store of goods, and to build a sailboat of two tons burthen, with which he should hold himself in readiness to carry passengers and goods between the "carrying place" in Pearsontown (Standish) on Sebago Lake, and the head of Long Lake, for a term of six years.
Bridgton's first deed of four hundred and thirty-five acres to Kimball was drawn by the proprietor in the following language, - "The sixth day of April in the eighth year of the Reign of Sovereign Lord George the Third, etc., 1768. and two shillings and sixpence a trip for his boat, six shillings a day for himself, and five for an assistant." Crude as it was, perhaps, it thus inaugurated the first passenger and freight service on the lakes. Kimball kept his inn and store, traded with the Indians, and ran his boat until his death in 1802. Other pioneer settlers were Jacob Stevens, William Emerson, Moody Foster, and David Kneeland, all from Massachusetts. The latter settled on the "ridge", and planted Bridgton's first orchard.
Moose, deer, bears, and other wild animals roamed freely in the dense forests around this locality, which accounts for the following anecdote. Captain Amos Foster had been on an evening visit to his intended bride who lived in Denmark, and on his return he stumbled upon a huge bear. The animal made for him at once and to escape, the Captain hurried to climb a small tree, - one that he supposed too small for the bear to hug. But the bear ascended the tree after him. He climbed as high as he dared, lest his weight should break the tree. The bear took his heel in her teeth, tearing away the shoe and flesh, and, losing her hold, she
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fell to the ground. Foster then supposed his danger past, but again he was disappointed. She no sooner recovered her feet than she climbed the tree again, this time tearing the flesh away from both heels, clear to the bone, and man and bear tumbled to the ground as the tree broke. The Captain fell on top of the bear, scrambled to his feet, and ran with all his might toward his home. He was so wild with fear that he did not feel the pain of his feet until going through a field of rye stubble which pricked his mangled flesh. Luckily the bear did not follow. Years after- ward, hearing two men discussing the probability of the story, he astonished them by removing his boots, and showing the scars upon his feet.
Much has been written about the early history of Bridgton, but in almost every instance it has related to the main village and the hamlet of North Bridgton, where the Academy is located. In reality the township of Bridgton comprises three Bridgtons in one, - North Bridgton, Bridgton Center, and South Bridgton, and as a matter of fact, South Bridgton is the real historic section of this terri- tory. It was here that the first settlers pitched their camps, and here may still be found some of the oldest buildings in this part of the state.
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