USA > Maine > Hancock County > Traditions and records of Southwest Harbor and Somesville, Mount Desert island, Maine > Part 28
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visions for the four families except what little flour and molasses had been taken to James that night to Somesville were burned.
Their homestead goods, few, but necessary, were gone. It was indeed a sorry sight. The little ox-shed was left and that was better than no shelter. The excitement kept them all from wanting sleep, and Thomas and his wife had enough to think about to make plans for the future.
IV
Instead of the storm which the preceding day had seemed to foretell, the morning broke clear and cold. It was good November weather. Thomas emerged from the ox-shed very early, to find a way of taking care of his family that day.
Looking over the bay he saw a small boat which he knew at once, for there was but one other anywhere on that coast besides his own. As it neared the shore he went down to meet it and Daniel Gott jumped out and asked many questions-how the house caught fire, what they did last night and what could be done now. On rising early that morning to go out after sea- birds, Daniel had seen the glow, smelled smoke and had rowed over from the island instead of going hunting. On hearing voices Mrs. Richardson and the children came out of the shed and Mr. Gott said, "You must come over on our island and get some breakfast and then, after resting, you will be better able to plan."
So, glad to find some chance of eating and resting, they all went down to the boat and over to Gott's Island. Mrs. Gott was amazed and distressed at the misfortune and could hardly get the food together for asking questions. "And were the pro- visions all burned, Mary, and our stock none too large now?"
"All burned dear. But when I think of the children being saved, we ought not to complain. There will be some way pro- vided since He has brought us thus far."
While the women were trying to make the best of the situa- tion in the house, the men at the shore had also planned.
"Tom, you are welcome to come in with us for the winter. Our room is not large, but it is better than nothing and birding is good, and fish and clams are plentiful. And there is my cow
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which I killed a month ago not half gone and I think the pota- toes will hold out. They are wonderfully good. This new soil as well as the damp air seemed just what the crop needed."
"Daniel, you are more than thoughtful for our interests and I have a mind to accept your offer for what can we do but that ? It is too late to cut logs and build a new cabin now and besides, our household goods are all gone together with the vegetables and all those groceries from the vessel."
"Well, then, Tom, don't worry and we will go to the house and see what the women have planned."
They found the table spread with a bountiful breakfast of potatoes baked in the ashes, some cold meat, corn bread and molasses. After the first pangs of hunger were satisfied, Mr. Gott told of the plans he had made for housing both families and as the women had talked of the same thing while getting the meal ready, it was agreed upon. The remainder of the day was spent in getting new berths ready for the new comers and changing things as best they could for the enlarged family.
As long as the weather continued moderately warm, the men dug clams for food and for bait for fishing and the sea birds made a welcome addition to their slender stock of food, but there were many mouths to fill and the outdoor life was conducive to good appetites and robust health.
As the rougher days of winter approached, the beef grew less and less, the fish harder to catch and although there were still some seabirds fit for eating, their stock of ammunition was almost gone. There were potatoes enough but as the days passed the two sturdy men knew that something must be done very soon. Their nearest neighbors were across Bluehill Bay at Naskeag Point, and although they might not have a large store of necessaries, the settlers of that day shared what they had.
Getting plenty of wood together and making their families as comfortable as possible, one bright, cold morning they took a small quantity of potatoes, some water and their guns and started out in a boat for the distant shore.
The days went by at first with good cheer for were not the men returning soon? and then they would be having something
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to eat with their potatoes and meal. But after a few days a storm came up and then it cleared off cold and the ice began to make around the shores until finally no boat could break through it. The store of food grew smaller day by day. The children begged for something more appetizing to eat but noth- ing could be had for they were on a small island surrounded by ice and no relief or supplies within miles.
Every night, as the women went to their sleepless beds they prayed for the safety of their husbands and that the morn would see the ice broken away from the shores, so that the men, if living, could get to the island.
Day after day passed and still the ice held, but an easterly storm came at last and broke up the ice and there was the open sea at last. Then Mrs. Gott said, "Mary, Daniel and Thomas must get here now if they are living."
"I think so too", said Mrs. Richardson. And all that day they strained their eyes across the floating ice of the broad bay, praying and hoping for the sight of an approaching boat.
The bright winter day was nearing its close, the sun casting long shadows over the snow covered island, when little Tom came running into the cabin full of excitement and crying, "I see something that looks like a boat 'way off."
Of course both women ran to the door and there, sure enough was a boat in the distance, coming from the direction in which their husbands had gone. Back they went into the cabin and put more wood on the fire and little Tom and the others brought more from the woodpile because the travellers would be cold and hungry. Then as the boat came nearer they all went to the shore to meet it.
It was indeed Thomas and Daniel, safely returned after days of waiting and watching, and just as the sun sank below the horizon, Thomas set his foot on the shore. They brought with them several birds, both sea ducks and partridge, a good quantity of fish, rabbits and ammunition.
It did not take long to prepare one of those fish for the evening meal and while it was cooking the men told what they had endured.
They had caught some fish the day they left home and reached a harbor with a few inhabitants before the storm came.
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While the ice was enclosing the land they got ammunition of the settlers and improved every minute shooting birds and rabbits. But as time passed they became anxious for the safety of their families on their island and as soon as the ice broke up they had made haste to get back to their home.
History fails to tell what harbor they were in. None seemed the worse for the hardships and pangs of hunger which they had suffered and Mary said as they sat by the fire that night and looked around on the faces that were near and dear to her ; "God has brought us safely through another crisis and I shall keep on trusting till I die."
V.
Spring came and as the days lengthened Thomas and Daniel would go off to Bass Harbor and cut logs for another cabin to take the place of the burned home. By the middle of May the new log cabin was suitable for habitation.
The Gotts as well as the two Richardson families, gave them a share of their small stock of dishes, for in those days it took but little to start housekeeping and as summer was coming they felt that they could do without many things that in winter would be necessary.
As the ox had been kept through the winter by Stephen Rich- ardson, brother of Thomas, whose cabin was on the west side of Bass Harbor (now Bernard), he was brought around to the new home, the ground ploughed, the garden made and as fish were plentiful that spring, Mr. and Mrs. Richardson felt that they had many blessings.
The family spent their long lives on the same plot of land but made many improvements in their home from time to time, and they sleep their last long sleep on the land where they labored which is still owned by their descendants.
Their son Thomas, the little hero of the fire, built a frame house very near his father's log cabin and his descendants still live in it. It has been enlarged and raised and made into a modern home, but the original timbers fashioned by the hands of this son of one of the first pioneers, still stand, strong and secure.
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Daniel Gott, on March 25, 1789, in consideration of eighteen pounds legal money, obtained a deed from the counties of York, Cumberland and Lincoln, of the two islands lying off Bass Harbor. He lived on the larger island until his death in 1814, is buried there and his descendants still own the land.
This is but a glimpse into a few of the lives of the early Mount Desert Islanders, who left more sheltered homes in older settlements, to come into the wilderness, take up land and make homes for themselves and their children on this beautiful isle of the sea.
Caroline R. Lawler
A FISH STORY
In the early days of the Revolutionary War, many English privateers cruised along the Maine coast, preying on the trading vessels and frequently landing at remote settlements and exact- ing tribute from those who might have money or valuables hidden away and taking or destroying the settlers' belongings.
Tradition says that one windy day in early autumn there was an exciting race across Bluehill Bay, east of Mount Desert Island. A small English privateer was chased by an irate Yankee craft. The Englishman sought to escape by running out of the passage between Bass Harbor Head and Gott Island, and thence to the open sea, but found the way blocked by an- other American vessel-a small fisherman, which headed him off.
Seeing no possible escape the men of the privateer threw overboard most of their valuables and ran their vessel into a tiny cove where she grounded and the crew waded ashore and took to the woods.
The little cove has long been known as Ship Harbor (on the southern point of Mount Desert Island) and at low tide there are even now pointed out to credulous observers, objects at the bottom of the clear water, said to be remains of the timbers of the English craft.
In 1789 Daniel Gott, one of the early settlers at Bass Harbor, bought of the State of Massachusetts two small islands lying a mile or two from the shore and moved there with his family. These islands are part of the group chartered by Champlain as
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Isles des Plaisants. Daniel Gott's descendants still own much of the larger island, which since his ownership has been called Gott's Island.
The people of Gott's Island have always been honest, hardy fishermen and there are now several summer cottages on the ocean side of the island, where the view of the open sea and of Mount Desert hills is unsurpassed. The island is a favorite picnic ground for summer visitors from nearby resorts.
In the years preceding the Civil War the fishing business in the adjoining waters was poor ; there was, of course, no way to ship the fresh fish and the only way to dispose of them was to salt and dry them and then take them many miles in a boat to market. For many years the men of the islands went in vessels to the "Bay-sha-lore" as they pronounced it, after mackerel. I was nearly grown up before I found out that "Bayshalore" was part of the great bay of the St. Lawrence and was spelled Bay of Chaleur.
As early in spring as the weather permitted the gardens were planted and things made as comfortable as possible for the women and children of the dozen or more families then living on the island. Then the men sailed away to be gone all summer, leaving the women, with the help of the half-grown boys and men too old to go, to care for the growing crops, get in the hay for the few cattle and otherwise prepare for the coming winter. I have heard my father say that for several summers, he, a boy of from twelve to fifteen years, was the oldest "man" on the island.
One day in the summer of the late fifties two of the women decided to go out and catch a mess of fish to vary their fare which must have been monotonous at times. They rowed off toward Bass head from which a submerged shoal called the Bar, runs across to the island. This has always been a favorite fishing ground and still is.
The women baited their hooks and dropped them over the side of the boat and waited for a bite but the fish were shy. After a while one felt something on her hook. "But", said she, "it can't be a fish; it doesn't move, most likely it is a bunch of rockweed,"
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She pulled in the line, looking over the boat's side as she did so to see what was on the hook that felt so heavy, and she was much excited to see attached to the hook a small canvas bag tightly tied.
As it came to the top of the water the bottom of the bag burst and down through the clear sea, just beyond reach of their clutching hands went dozens of gold coins and all they brought home to prove their story was the empty bag, supposed to have been thrown over from the English privateer so long before.
Harriet R. Murphy
A PERSISTENT TRADITION
In 1792 the distinguished French statesman Talleyrand, sought refuge from many difficulties by coming to America. He is said to have landed either in Wiscasset or Castine and he visited several different places in Maine during his stay.
A New York paper many years ago published an interesting communication from what was said to be a reliable source, claiming that he was a native of Mount Desert Island in Maine instead of having been born in Paris as most of his biographers assert. The writer said that his information was obtained from Hon. Edward Hutchinson Robbins of Boston, who died in 1829. Mr. Robbins was something of an antiquarian and renowned for his persistency in following clues. It was said of him that "his organ of inquisitiveness was very prominent." He believed and wrote that Talleyrand was born at Mount Desert.
Mr. Robbins was at one time Lieut .- Governor of Massachu- setts and was one of the Commissioners in charge of building the State House in Boston. It is said that the columns which ornament the second story were made from trees cut at West Magurrawock (now Robbinston, Maine) which was his planta- tion and the name changed to Robbinston in his honor.
When Talleyrand was in Boston he was introduced to Mr. Robbins and they became quite intimate. A few weeks after their acquaintance Mr. Robbins was called on business to Mount Desert, where, to his surprise he found Talleyrand, incog., and on questioning him in regard to his business there he returned an evasive answer and treated him very coldly during his stay.
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The visit of the Frenchman caused considerable surprise among the few inhabitants of the place at the time and when Mr. Robbins informed them that he was a French gentleman and they remembered his questions and apparent interest in the Island, they began to recall an incident that had been handed down from earlier days. They noted too, that the stranger was lame and that reminded them of the story of "French Boy", as they used to call him, who was taken from Southwest Harbor about the time of the close of the French War.
Mr. Robbins made particular inquiries in regard to the French Boy and was told that sometime previous to the war a French ship of war came into the harbor to make repairs and to obtain wood and water; that while there an officer became inti- mate with a young girl, the daughter of a fisherman then absent, which created scandal among the people and in due time the girl gave birth to a boy.
The following year the officer made his appearance again, provided for the mother and son and made some presents to the grandparents with whom they lived, which apparently reconciled them and he promised to marry the girl when he came again. Then he went away and never returned.
When the boy was about a year old the mother accidentally overturned a kettle of boiling water on his feet which made him lame for life. Soon after this the mother died.
Later another officer (not the father of the child) came for the purpose of taking the boy to France, saying that land and titles awaited him in that country. At first the grandparents would not give him up but they were promised money enough to make them comfortable for life and told of the high position which the child would have and at last they consented and the boy was taken away.
Of course at the time these events are said to have happened there was no permanent settlement at Mount Desert Island. But there is plenty of proof that people lived at least for a time in many places on the island; many coming from European countries for the fishing and spending the summers here. Men from Canada brought their families here to camp for the warm months while they filled their vessels with fish from the rich fishing grounds all around Mount Desert.
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Although there is no proof of the truth of this story, yet it has been handed down in reputable families of the island for a century and a half.
Read it now as it is told in detail:
As Sir Walter Scott writes-
"I cannot tell how the truth may be ; I say the tale as 'twas said to me."
SOUTHWEST HARBOR'S MOST FAMOUS LEGEND
Somewhere about the year 1753 or 54 there lived in a small house at the head of Southwest Harbor a fisherman and his pretty granddaughter. The man was a gruff and surly old fellow of French blood who kept his own counsel as to where he came from and the management of his own affairs and the few neighbors ignored him usually as he disregarded them. The people who were in Southwest Harbor at that time were families of fishermen from Massachusetts mostly, who came for the sum- mer sometimes bringing their families to spend the warm months in rough camps and returning to their homes in the autumn. When the permanent settlers came in 1762 there is no mention of any persons living in the vicinity.
The pretty granddaughter was a friend of all, from the tiniest child to the old men who sat in the sun mending the nets, and including the Indians who came every summer to spend a few months in hunting and fishing because, as they said, "We are never sick here."
The maiden was loved by all and admired too, for her beauty of face and form made her good to look upon, while her kind heart and winsome ways made her beloved by old and young.
One day a great ship sailed into the harbor and dropped anchor in the deep water near what we now call Greening's Island. The French flag flew from her masthead and soon officers and men came ashore to fill their casks with fresh water and to purchase fish and the wild berries which grew abundantly then as now, on the rocky uplands and the mountains.
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The fisher maiden had baskets of fresh berries, for she loved to wander about the shores and hillsides, gathering the wild fruits and flowers.
The young officer who bought her berries lingered long at the door of the little old house, and when he left it was under- stood that he should come again on the morrow and go with her to see where such luscious fruits grew. And after the morning spent on the hillside together, what was more natural than that she should go with him at evening when the full moon rose out of the sea, to show the wonderful beauty of the scene from the high hill above the spot where once the mission of St. Sauveur was established.
Another day they must go to the hill by the lake under the frowning cliffs of the mountain to hear the echo that to this day gives back a clear, ringing note in answer to a call and sends it back again and again in a weird and wonderful way.
To the southern point of the island to see the tremendous pounding of the surf after a storm was another ramble, and every day as they wandered over the hills or sat by the restless, ever-moving sea, the handsome stranger in his imposing uniform murmured sweet words in the trusting ears of the girl until her world centered around him and her life's future for weal or for woe was all in his hands.
One day there was a wedding in the little hamlet where the marriage service was read by one from the ship who claimed to be a chaplain, and the girl became the bride of the handsome officer. The fisherfolk took a holiday and much to eat and drink was furnished from the big ship which tugged at her anchors at the harbor's entrance.
Then followed summer days of such happiness to the trusting girl as made the time pass like a delightful dream that knows no waking.
The waking came though, one day when the bridegroom told her that his ship must sail on the morrow. Her grief knew no bounds and she begged him to take her with him to far away France for she felt that she could not live if she were separated from her husband.
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He pointed out that it was impossible for her to go on the ship, but he promised with many a caress, to come back for her before many months to take her to his home beyond the sea and with that he left her.
White and despairing she watched the great ship weigh anchor the next morning at daybreak and sail proudly and stead- ily, out of the harbor and away beyond the horizon. She strained her eyes to see the last vanishing sail and then she crept back to her grandfather's house to begin her lonely watch for the return of her lover.
The days went by and lengthened into weeks; summer died and autumn spread her banners on the land. Blackberries ripened on the hillside and the maples in the forest flamed with red and yellow. The meager harvests of cabbage and potatoes were gathered, fruits and berries were dried, fish were salted and laid away for winter, most of the fishermen sailed with their belongings for their distant homes and the one or two who re- mained banked their houses to resist the cold winds that rushed in from the icy Atlantic Ocean and tugged at doors and windows for entrance.
The Indians went away to the inland forests and the moun- tains seemed to lay aside the air of protectiveness that they wore in summer and to stand somber and grim awaiting the chill touch of winter. By and by the snow came and covered the evergreen forests with a cloud of white and winter was upon the land.
In the spring when the skies were growing softer and the winds were whispering of warmer days to come, a little son was born to the young mother in the house at the head of the harbor. She could trace his father's likeness in the tiny features-a like- ness that grew more and more apparent as the weeks passed and the child grew older. "He will surely come now that the winter is past", she would murmur and smile to think how glee- fully she would show the wonderful boy to his father, who must surely adore him.
Every day, with her baby in her arms, she would climb to her lookout on the hill where she would be sure to catch the first glimpse of a sail that was bound for the harbor. But the days went by and no sail appeared on the horizon.
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Summer passed, autumn again deepened into winter and again the spring came, but no ship and no handsome officer came from across the seas.
True, some fishing vessels from France sought refuge in the harbor occasionally, but their crews could give no comforting answers to the eager questions of the sorrowful girl, but they may have carried her story back across the ocean with them. Then Wolfe defeated Montcalm on the Plains of Abraham and by that battle France lost her claim to New England so she no longer sent her ships to patrol the Maine coast.
And so time passed. The girl's face lost its rosy glow and a look of sorrow marked her brow. Her step was less light and her ready smile faded except for her little son, who grew sturdy and handsome with every passing day.
When the child was about two years old he met with a serious accident. A great kettle of boiling water had been taken from the fire and set on the hearth for a moment and the little fellow overturned it on himself He was terribly burned and for days his life hung in the balance. He finally recovered, but the poor little leg that was so terribly burned was drawn up so that the child was always lame and walked with difficulty.
Five or six years went by. The path by which the lonely woman climbed to the hill daily was worn deep by her feet.
One day her long vigil was rewarded and she saw a sail approaching. Nearer and nearer it came until her straining eyes could see that the ship was flying the French flag. It might be her husband returning to his bride and to the little son whom he had never seen. She hastened back to the house to be ready to greet him there with all the years of waiting forgiven in the joy of reunion.
When the great ship had dropped anchor almost in the same spot where that other ship had lain years before, she saw a boat put off and rowed swiftly to the shore. A tall, distinguished stranger landed and asked if a woman with a young child could be found in the settlement, giving her name. He was directed to the house where the girl lived with her boy, her grandfather having died some time before.
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