USA > New Hampshire > Grafton County > Warren > The history of Warren; a mountain hamlet, located among the White hills of New Hampshire > Part 13
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
numbed with cold, sank down saying he must sleep .* His com- panion tried to rouse him but in vain, and fearing for his own life hurried down the mountain. The wolf howled in the great gorge that night and the wild echoes were roused by the panther's cry. But the ranger heeded them not, and when the last twilight had faded from the western sky he in turn sank down exhausted at the foot of the Seven Cascades.
The legend further relates in a beautiful manner-and surely this can be nothing but a legend-how the ranger seemed to be dying ; and when the stars shone bright above him and the moon looked in through the trees and lighted up the white foam of the cascades, distant music coming nearer seemed to mingle with that of the water, and his quickened senses heard fairy harps joined with fairy voices, and saw fairy feet dancing in the silver spray. Elfin kings and fairy queens whirled in the · mazy dance for a mo- ment and were gone. And then came a troop of nereids, with long dishevelled hair and eyes lustrous as the stars that shone above them, to bathe in the clear crystal fountain. For an instant they seemed to hold sweet dalliance with the sparkling water and then floated away in the thin mist that hung over the great wood and turbanned the distant mountain. Day seemed breaking, and the bright sun looked in from over the eastern hills upon a crowd of mountain genii, who chanted their matin hymns in their wild rock-hewn temples, and then mounted up on viewless steps to offer incense on their rainbow altar, golden in the flood of rosy light, and glistening in the diamond drops of the waterfall.
As a dark cloud stole across the sky, veiling the moon, the. scene changed. The shrieks of the dying Indians at St. Francis, the mournful peal of the chapel bell, the retreat, the famine, the terrible feast upon human heads, the dying comrade upon the mountain top, himself perishing by the torrent,- and then, seen for a moment, the picture of a dark form bending over him-and the famishing ranger was unconscious.
The next morning the sun, glorious in his splendor, gleamed on the seven cascades of the gorge. There was no wind, and the
* Robert Pomeroy, a ranger from Derryfield, * *
* perished in the woods
* * * during the Indian wars * * * and his bones were found years after about the sources of the Merrimack. They were identified by his hair and some personal effects that had not decayed .- Potter's Hist. of Manchester, 336.
.
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THE LONE HUNTER.
bright flashing waters as they leaped down seemed to hymn a lofty pæan of praise in the solitude. It was a far, wild country, one in which seemingly no human foot had ever trod. Yet there was one being even here. An old hunter from the frontier had pene- trated this wilderness to trap otter, beaver, and sable. He had constructed a rude camp for himself by the side of Gorge brook. In the great meadow over the ridge he set his steel traps for beaver, and built Indian culheags for sable by his spotted line on the mountain side. It chanced that he was visiting the latter that morning. He discovered the footsteps of the ranger who had crossed his line, and following them found him almost insensible at the foot of the cascades. Bearing him to the camp he nursed him back to life, and for a few weeks he assisted the hunter in his duties.
One day, as the early settlers relate the golden tradition, the ranger stopped to quench his thirst at a little mountain rill. As he kneeled to sip the sparkling water he saw shining in the sand at the bottom what appeared to be bright grains of gold. Picking up a handful of these he tied them in a corner of his handkerchief and after heaping a small monument of stones on the bank, departed. The particles thus collected, on being shown to a jew- eller, proved to be pure gold, and he received for them fifty dollars. But although careful search has since often been made neither the monument nor the golden stream has ever again been discovered. When the snow began to fall in the valley the hunter, accompanied by the ranger, returned to the settlements.
The remaining companies of the rangers came straggling in upon the intervals. As one by one they died-the allotted ten days not yet passed-despair seated itself on the countenances of all the living, and they prayed once more that Rogers might return.
CHAPTER XIII.
HOW THE SURVIVING RANGERS ALL GOT SAFELY HOME, AND HOW THENCEFORWARD THE PEMIGEWASSETT LAND, CONTAINING THE PLEASANT LITTLE TERRITORY OF WARREN, BECAME VERY SAFE COUNTRY IN WHICH TO SOJOURN.
ROBERT ROGERS' journal, written by himself, gives a succinct account of his exploits in the old French war. It relates how at his departure from the intervals to obtain help he laid down with his two companions on their rude craft, by far more primeval than that on which sailed Jason and his mythical companions in search of the golden fleece, and for hours floated swiftly down in the rapid current. Yet he fails to narrate the fact-for it is pre- sumed that every one should know as much-that the river was swollen by the autumn rains, and that the streams from the high- lands on either hand poured in their turbid floods. Neither does he mention the bright hues spread over all the woods; nor the wild geese which, noting the strange craft on the water, cackled at them from the sky ; or that at night bears halloed from the hills and muskrats swam splashing along the shores.
Even Ompompanoosuc, a western stream, heaving with its muddy tide, was unnoticed, and they were only roused from their lethargy by a dull but fearful roaring ahead. Starting up they saw a thin mist rising from the falls which their raft was rapidly approaching. Their oars were too small to manage their unwieldy craft in the now eddying and boiling current. A few moments more and they must go over. Death stared them in the face. But they had met it in a thousand forms and though famishing they would not yield. Leaping into the water, after a hard struggle
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155
AN INDIAN RAFT.
they gained the shore. Their raft, pausing a moment on the brink, leaped like a thing of life into the wild vortex, and was dashed in pieces.
Wet, cold, and starving, with much difficulty they reached the foot of the falls. To proceed by land was impossible; yet Rogers' indomitable spirit never sank. Bidding his men hunt for food, he went to work in true Indian style and kindled a fire. In three days he had burned down and burned off trees sufficient for a raft, and bound them together with withes. In the meantime his companions had procured a red squirrel and a single partridge -- just sufficient to keep soul and body together-and on the morn- ing of the fourth day they placed themselves upon the new raft and once more glided swiftly on. The genii of the waterfall seemed to scream after them through the mist, bidding them make no delay, for the famishing rangers were roasting human flesh far back in the cold shadows of Moosilauke mountain.
White river was passed, and in another hour they heard the roaring of Wattoqueche fall. Rogers this time was on the watch for dangers ahead. Paddling their raft ashore, Ogden guided it over the falls with a long withe-rope of hazel bushes, while Rogers swam in and secured it. This raft was their only hope; with it lost their fate was death. All night without food they floated down the stream. Morning showed them a clearing. Shortly after men came to cut timber on the river bank, who discovered and assisted them.
Rogers' first thought was for his rangers who were dying one by one at Coos. Several canoes were immediately fitted out, and manned by strong arms they shot like arrows up through the forest that shut in the Connecticut. In four days the suffering rangers saw them pull round the headland where ten days before their leader had disappeared. Resting for a day only, Rogers went up the river to meet his men and again share their fortunes. It was a strange sight, that silent voyage down the blue stream; those rude boats, freighted with men whose matted beards, sunken eyes, and hollow cheeks told of the horrors they had endured.
On the fifth day of November the last living ranger had arrived at Number Four. Gathered around their leader at the fort they seemed more like ill-dressed corpses than like human
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
beings. Delaying a few days to recruit their exhausted energies, Rogers placed himself at their head and hurried away across the Green mountains to Ticonderoga and Crown Point to take part in the closing scenes of the war.
Perhaps some would like to know the subsequent history of Major Rogers. To narrate all of the events of his after life would be altogether foreign to our purpose. When Wolfe defeated Mont- calm on the plains of Abraham, and the flag of old England was unfurled above the battlements of the strongest fortress in Amer- ica, the major went to the far west. He scouted sometime in the woods about Detroit, searching for Indians, and then made an expedition on the ice up Lake Huron, towards Michilimackinac. At the close of the war he went to Europe, and thence to Africa, where he fought two battles under the Dey of Algiers. For a further account of his life we would refer to " Rogers' Journal," published by himself, a very old and rare work, the author of this veritable history never having met with but one copy.
Rogers himself and his rangers never forgot their memorable visit to Coos, and years afterwards many of them found a home in the scene of their suffering.
The work was now all done. There was no more fear of the Indians, and our beloved Pemigewassett land, including the town of Warren, the history of which we are trying so hard to write, was now destined to undergo a great change. A more glorious era was about to dawn upon the great wild north of New Hamp- shire.
As this second book was designed only to treat of the border wars by means of which the old hunting grounds of the Pemige- wassetts became known and opened up for settlement, we shall here necessarily put an end to our narrations of bush-fights, cap- tivities, and explorations, and shall endeavor in our next to tell how our own Warren-one of the wildest of the northern ham- lets-was established and occupied.
BOOK III.
OF THE BIRTH OF A MOUNTAIN HAMLET, OR THE PRECISE. AND ACCURATE HISTORY OF THE ACTS OF SIXTY-SIX DISTINGUISHED MEN, OTHERWISE KNOWN AS THE PROPRIETORS OF WARREN.
CHAPTER I.
CONCERNING A GREAT SHAGGY WOOD AND NUMEROUS HUNTERS THEREIN, AND THEN OF A SWEET LITTLE FEUD BETWEEN THREE ROYAL GOVERNORS AND HOW ONE OF THEM POLITELY EUCHRED THE OTHERS, MUCH TO THEIR DELIGHT.
THE old French war was ended. The Indians were no longer feared. Rogers had crushed them. A vast extent of forest country now lay open to the colonists. Our little mountain ham- let-not yet called Warren-was in this mighty wood, in which there were no openings save those made by the hurricane, the flood, or the Indian's fire. Camel's Hump and Mt. Mansfield looked down upon the lesser heights of the Green mountains; the White hills rose out of the woods like islands in a sea, and Mts. Aziscoos and Katardin stood high above Umbagog and Moosehead lakes, which had mirrored them for centuries. Otter creek, Onion river, and the Lamoile, flowed from the wilderness to the west; the Connecticut, the Merrimack, and the Saco came down from the mountains of New Hampshire, and the Androscoggin, the Kennebec and the Penobscot from the bright lakes of the east. The Indians, as we have before shown in this most veritable
-
158
HISTORY OF WARREN.
history had nearly all left this umbrageous wilderness; but the " wild beastes," so accurately described by that early, celebrated, and very chaste historian, John Josselyn, Gent., such as bears, wolves, panthers, moose, deer, loupcerviers, and sweet-smelling "squnckes," remained.
My gentle reader, without doubt you know already that the little tract of territory at the head of the Asquamchumauke val- ley and surrounded by lofty mountains was in the very heart of this great, wild, beast-filled wilderness. The far-sighted glance of the eagle, soaring aloft above the crests of its mountains, scarce penetrated to the distant confines of civilization. The nearest far apart settlements in New England were mostly along the sea- coast and on the banks of the largest rivers. Up the Merrimack the clearings had crept as far as a place called Bakerstown, after- wards Stevenstown, and now Franklin, N. H. On the Connecti- cut river the most northern settlement was around that little log- fort which we have known in the book preceding as Number Four, at present the town of Charleston. For a hundred and fifty years the French had lived in the St. Lawrence valley and their settle- ments branched off into this wilderness on the banks of the Chaudiere, the St. Francis, and the Sorelle. To the east, French- men lived on the river St. John, and westward were scattered openings beyond Champlain and by the great lakes. It was hun- dreds of miles across this forest, east and west, north and south.
Yankee men of that heroic age were as fond of hunting as any who live at the present day. Even those not quite so brave spirits who had hitherto been compelled to stay at home through fear of the Indians, could now take up their march with perfect impunity into the woods, to hunt and to trap all that wild ferocious game which John Josselyn, Gent., has so particularly described to us in his veracious history.
The last of September-in this climate the most delightful month of the year-now saw hundreds of men, old and young,
"The wild-cat, lucern, or luceret, or ounce as some call it, is not inferior to lamb. Their grease is very sovereign for lameness upon taking cold."
"The squncke is almost as big as a raccoon, perfect black and white, or pye bald, with a bushtail like a fox, and offensive carrion. The urine of this creature is of so strong a scent that if it light upon anything there is no abiding of it. It will make a man smell though he were of Alexander's complexion, and so sharp, if he do but whisk his bush which he pisseth upon in the face of a dogg hunting of him, and if any of it light in his eyes, it will make him almost mad with the smart thereof."-John Josselyn's 2 Voyages to New England.
159
THE HUNTERS' PARADISE.
leaving their wives and sweethearts and journeying to those pleasant solitudes in the wooded valleys beside the sylvan brooks, rivers, and lakes. They were accustomed to go in boats up the streams as far as possible, often following the same routes that Capt. Peter Powers sailed, rowed, and poled over, or that Col. Joseph Blanchard, Maj. Tolford, and Capt. John Goffe traveled. We can imagine them leaving their canoes, gun in one hand, axe in the other, and a great pack made up of steel traps, spare shirts, feeting, and provisions, in all more than a hundred pounds weight strapped upon their backs, and toiling through the woods and over the mountains in search of beaver meadows and sable ranges. They would build for themselves pleasant little cabins beside some musical stream, and here they would hunt till the snowflakes flew. Then, toting their traps and rich peltries back to their canoes, they would paddle rapidly down the swift current of the now swollen streams to their homes again.
Such were the human inhabitants of our very interesting forest just after the closing of the " Seven Years War;" and such were the only visitors of our mountain bounded valley. By these hunters every stream of the wilderness was explored, every meadow and valley noted, mountain gorges traversed, and even the mountains themselves ascended.
Hitherto the propensity of the Yankee people to emigrate and take up new lands, to clear farms, build log cabins to be succeeded by pine board palaces, had been restrained as we have already hinted by a terror of the Indians. But now a new instinct seemed to have taken possession of the multitude. Like the mutterings preceding the destruction of Jerusalem, an ominous voice seemed to say, " Let us depart hence," but the departure was for a very different reason. The wild lands of the north were on every tongue. All the hunters we have mentioned, all the wild border- ers, all the explorers, and all the seven years war men who had marched and campaigned through that section, told almost fabulous stories of its richness and fertility.
The world has seen many an exodus. But the flight of the Jews from Egypt was very unlike that about to be seen in south- ern New Hampshire and Massachusetts. The wild Asiatic hordes, hurrying from the northern table-lands to the south and west, fur-
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HISTORY OF WARREN.
nished hardly a parallel case. There they moved as a vast army, conquering the lands they coveted and making serfs of the original dwellers of the soil. Here, however, they seemed desir- ous to go one by one into the wilderness; fathers with their fam- ilies, and young men without families, each for himself, caring for nobody, thinking only of future fields and meadows full of black stumps and logs, rich pastures with the same attractive features and no end of cobble-stone pyramids added, out of all which should come great gains and much happiness.
But we would not detract one iota from the merits of our forefathers. Let no one think they resembled the squatters of the present day, or that they occupied the lands without leave or license. They had great respect for law, order, and the rights of property. Much as they desired rich homes for themselves, not a family would move into the wilderness until they had acquired a title to the lands they wanted. But who owned the lands? Who could give them deeds? Who could insure them a perfect immun- ity from being considered trespassers, and protect them from writs of ejectment and perplexing lawsuits in which some men so much delight? These were very interesting questions, and upon them a great discussion arose. All the provinces began to talk of the great discoveries of Christopher Columbus, of the seizure of the different portions of America by the several nations of Europe, of the portion old England modestly took, that of the Virginia company, the Dutch West India company, the Massachusetts Bay company, and the grant of that famous little tract of land, made by the last named company to John Mason, and then about the entertaining lawsuits instituted by said Mason's heirs against other claimants of the soil of the province once known as Mariana, otherwise Laconia, and finally New Hampshire.
At last the very wise conclusion obtained possession of men's minds that the land belonged to the crown, and to the crown they began to look for grants. Then came the question, "Through. what channels?"-and upon this the distinguished rulers of New Hampshire, Massachusetts, and New York each set up their claims to the land in question, and each announced to the people that he was the person to issue grants.
It is said that three proclamations were put forth by the rival
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A QUARREL AMONG CIVILIANS.
governors stating this fact, and by this means all the people of the several provinces were clearly enlightened. The dilemma waxed more difficult. The law-abiding citizens became more and more impatient, and like the ass between two bundles of hay, they might wait forever.
To relieve the public mind of the great suspense that was now hanging over these mighty provinces, embassies were dispatched ' to England to obtain a settlement of the great question. Who went on this important mission, and when they went or returned, it is not for this veracious history to chronicle. Suffice it to say that they did return and made so satisfactory a report that the whole matter seemed more befogged than ever, and things did not advance a particle.
The several royal governors grew more belligerent than before. They eyed each other like dogs watching a bone, each jealous of the other. So furious did they become that even grim visaged war with its horrid front seemed portending. An old historian said the moon looked like blood, that a comet appeared in the heavens, and meteors flashed across the sky. Provinces hitherto peaceful among themselves, content to fight only a common foe, Indian or French, now seemed ready to gird on their armor for internecine strife. Of the two methods of settling boundary lines -one by arms, the other by compromise-it seemed at one time highly probable that the former might be chosen.
But the fates decreed otherwise, and determined that neither method should be followed. While the royal governors of Mas- sachusetts and New York were contending with high words, and seemed almost ready to come to blows and broken heads, New Hampshire's greatest and best ruler continued to add fuel to the flames of contention now brightly burning, and also sub rosa took time by the forelock, boldly cut the gordian knot for himself, and before a rumor of what he was doing had gone abroad, made hun- dreds of grants to actual settlers, leaving his two dear friends the governors nothing to fight about, and so shot far ahead of them in worldly riches and gubernatorial fame. How this was accom- plished we shall immediately proceed to show.
K
CHAPTER II.
OF A FINE OLD GOVERNOR OF YE ANCIENT DAYS AND OF HIS ROYAL SECRETARY. HOW THESE TWO WORTHIES BUILT GOLDEN CAS- TLES IN THE AIR AND FINALLY GREW QUITE RICH.
BENNING WENTWORTH, whom we have many times before mentioned, was the son of John Wentworth, one of the former royal lieutenant-governors of the province of New Hamp- shire. He was installed in office with great ceremonies and rejoicings on the 13th of December, 1741. It is recorded how a mighty cavalcade escorted him into that great seaport town, Ports- mouth, and how he was received amid the joyful acclamations of thousands of people who assembled to welcome him. This is probably the partly truthful and the partly poetical language of the distinguished historian ; but we can well pardon his veneration for one of the most honorable governors of his loved State .*
Had our royal ruler consented to have lived till the present time we might have presented a faithful portrait of his character, . appearance, and habits ; as it is, we shall be under the necessity of giving him but a passing notice.
Governor Wentworth was a fine gentleman, " all of ye olden time," and in the matter of dress was fastidious. On state occa- sions he appeared in powdered wig, three-cornered hat, blue coat with buff facings and bright buttons, breeches rather broad in the
* Benning Wentworth was a descendant of Elder William Wentworth, of Dov- er. Lient. Governor John Wentworth had fourteen children : 1st, Benning, after- wards governor; 2d, John, Judge of Probate of Portsmouth; 3d, Hunking; 4th, William; 5th, Samuel, father of Mrs. Gov. John; 6th, Mark Hunking, father of Gov. John; 7th, Daniel; 8th, Ebenezer; 9th, George; 10th, Hannah, married Sam- uel Plaisted and Theodore Atkinson; 11th, Sarah, married Archibald McPhedris; 12th, Mary; 13th, Elizabeth; 14th, Rebecca, married Thomas Packer. Benning Wentworth was councillor from 1732 to 1741, when he became governor, and re- mained in office till May, 1767 .- History of Chester, 54.
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BENNING WENTWORTH.
seat and tight around the leg, long stockings, sharp-pointed shoes, silver knee and shoe-buckles, an immense frizzle around the neck, and a shirt bosom set forth with enormous ruffles.
In education he was superior to most men of his time, having spent several years at Harvard University and received all the honors of that renowned institution. Probably geography was not then taught, or he never would have made those lamentable mistakes in reckoning latitude and longitude, which as we have before shown in this most delectable history cost so much blood and treasure.
He made but few laws, but he took great care that these should be well understood and executed, as we have seen in the case of Peter Bowen and his friend, when they went scot free on account of public opinion.
As a warrior he was peculiarly great and fortunate, although we have no knowledge that he ever fought a battle in his life. He preferred rather to plan mighty campaigns and trust to his distin- guished generals to execute them. Cavalry soldiers were his fav- orites, and the desperate charges of his bold wild horsemen through the dark woods of the north are facts well known in history.
Governor Wentworth reigned long and well, much to the sat- isfaction of his loyal subjects, and bid fair to have held his posi- tion till the day of his death but for his love of wealth and that his great gains excited the envy of other ambitious and avaricious men of the province.
The governor had a worthy secretary, who had been a friend and acquaintance of his boyhood, they having attended the same school and hunted birds' nests and stole apples together on holi- days. At a later day his honorable secretary- the " Right Hon- orable Theodore Atkinson, Jr.,"-had married Benning Went- worth's sister, and the governor having an eye for the advantage of his relations-like many another high in office before and since his time-had given his brother-in-law an appointment. They pulled together kindly, and Secretary Atkinson held his place till . the honorable governor was obliged to retire.
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