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GENEALOGY COL. LECTION

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SACO YALLEY SETTLEMENTS AND FAMILIES.

^' ¥ V - J

EISTOEICAL, BIOGEAPHICAL, GENEALOGICAL, TEADITIONAL, AND LEGENDAEY.

EMBRACING

The Most Important Events in the Towns on the Saco River, FROM Their Plantation to the Present, with Memorials of the Families and Individuals Instrumental in Their Settlement, Advancement and Prosperity.

TWENTY-FIVE YEARS IN PREPARATION

By a. X. RiDLON, Sr.,

Author of " Early Settlers of Harrison, Me ," " Burbank Genealogy," " History OF Ancient Ryedales," and " Rambles in Scotland."

Beautifully Embellished with Portraits, Views of Family Seats and

Other Illustrations.

" How dear to my heart are the scenes of my childhood, When fond recollection presents them to view; The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wild-wood, And every loved spot which my infancy knew."

PORTLAND, ME.: PUBLISHED BY THE 1895.

AUTHOR.

Copyright, by G. T. Ridlon, Sr., 1894. All rights reserved.

Printed at the Lakeside Press, Portland, Maine.

113901.3

■«rv:i(j^i|ORE than a quarter of a century has passed away since, the author

^I^'^BS began to assemble notes containing the documentary data now :«SS»^ embraced in this book ; the traditional, incidental, and legendary — ' materials represent the gathering of a life-time. An inherent taste for local history and reminiscent narrative of pioneer experience was im- mensely stimulated in early years by association with persons whose birth occurred before the settlement of the township, and by occasional contact with relatives whose mothers' slumbers had been disturbed by the red man's startling war-whoop. Those who are unfamiliar with historic chronology can scarcely comprehend the fact that it has required but three generations to transmit an account, orally, of events that occurred more than two centuries ago. The compiler of this work has conversed with men who had a distinct recollection of the French war and the fall of Louisburg ; and his grandfather, with whom he lived contemporary thirty-five years, was personally acquainted with men who served as scouts against the Pequawket Indians, and often related an account of their adventures as received from their own lips. It will thus be seen that our traditionary history has not traveled so far down the stream of time that its truthfulness need be lost.

When midwinter storms were howling around the high gabled old farm-house, causing its great timbers to quake and creak in every joint; when the snowy wreaths were being woven about the narrow casement, and sharp sleet rattled against the window pane; when King Frost had fringed the door jambs with his royal ermine, and the wind gusts roared in the chimney flue ; when the great sheets of flame swayed about the "back-log" and the bank of coals between the fire-dogs glowed like a sunset baptized in liquid gold ; when the social tea- kettle sang sweet, simmering songs upon the crane and the gray cat purred in the corner, then the family patriarch and his good dame would beguile the evening hours by relating, in quaint and rustic phrase, incidents of "ye olden time"; some tragic, weird, and serious, others so well seasoned with humor that the mellow old beams overhead became responsive with the echoes of hilarious laughter. From such fountains of inspiration, the author, then a frowzy headed boy upon his lowly "cricket," drank until the impulse for writing chronicles became too strong to be resisted.

At the time researches were instituted for collecting data for this book, there were many venerable persons living, who had passed the whole period of their

IV

INTRODUCTORY COMPENDIUM.

existence in the Saco valley, and their vigorous memories were well stored with incidents savoring of their early years. Such were visited, interviewed, and the notes taken down from their recitations were tied in bundles and packed away. The publishers of county history offered tempting sums for this collection of documents, but they were retained to be verified, as far as possible, with the more reliable public records. A general acquaintance with numerous sources of information, acquired when compiling a " History of the Ancient Ryedales," greatly facilitated the search for data to be used in this work.

While in Great Britain, during the summer of 1886, the author was favored with the longed-for privilege of examining many ancient records and time- stained documents found in the National Register House, Edinburgh, Scot- land, and in the British Museum and Somerset House, London. The rich and venerable odors of vellum and ripe parchment, that have conserved the quaint, cramped chirography of scribes who drove the crow-quill six centuries ago, to the genuine, mousing antiquary, are as "savory meat that his soul loveth"; and only such as belong to this class of literati can appreciate the mental ex- hilaration experienced when engaged with such pastime. The covers of the old registers, bound in skins dressed into velvet softness that is tickling to the fingers, are warped and corner-worn ; the parchment and paper within is stained, and marked by hands that have long been dust. The old characters used when these records were made puzzle those who have not become familiar with them. Here is a sample :

INTRODUCTORY COMPENDIUM.

V

To give the reader a faint idea of the pleasure derived during a ten days' .search among old documents, relating to the early generations of the Scottish and Shetlandic families, we quote from our note book what was written at the time.

"If I read the name of one who had lived three centuries ago, it instantly became associated with the personality of him who had borne it; while the invisible hand of fancy, with the most delicate facility, drew aside the mystic vail between me and the vanished years, and vividly exhibited for my enraptured contemplation the most realis- tic pictures of the faces and forms of the departed. My spirit seemed to be carried back- ward on the swift pinions of imagination, over the dead eras of time, to the period in which these individuals had lived; they were mentally resurrected for my accommoda- tion, and invested with life for my entertainment; they did not come forward to meet me in transformed adaptation to the active present; but my own capacity for discern- ment and comprehension seemed infinitely enlarged and nicely adjusted to the time in which these beings had walked the earth. Their primitive abodes, even, emerged from the misty obscurity of the past for my inspection and were re-inhabited for the administration of hospitality to him who had journeyed so far over the barren wastes of time to visit them."

More than one hundred pages quarto were filled with closely written notes, copied from the ancient registers of conveyances, "hornings," and births, deaths and marriages, which were brought home to enrich the introductory sections of the family history of those of Scottish and Scotch-Irish extraction, who settled in the Saco valley.

When the compiler began the classification and composition of the mass of indigested matter he had accumulated, there were stupendous chasms to bridge, and many disconnected family chains to be linked together. To procure the addenda necessary for this purpose, the author has traveled hundreds of miles with his team, to copy from probate, town, church, and family records; he journeyed to old homesteads in the Saco valley towns, where documents relat- ing to the early land grants might be found, and there, bureaus, meal-chests, boxes, and birch buckets, containing musty old papers, were overhauled, and wills, deeds, inventories, agreements, petitions, commissions, muster-rolls, and letters examined. We traversed the fields and pastures along the way and crawled on hands and knees through the tangled shrubbery and briars of neg- lected burial-lots, to cut the moss from the leaning and sunken slate head-stones to ascertain the ages of those who had long reposed below. Many interest- ing and mirth provoking adventures occurred during these visitations, and a description of the ignorance and stupidity encountered would not be the least entertaining feature of this book. We cannot refrain from mentioning one old yeoman to whom we appUed for family records. He was full of demon- strative unction, but not burdened with "book-larning." Said he: "Now look a-here stranger, there's not a name, date, nor scratch of pen in my house, but if my old Aunt Bets was alive she'd tell ye all about our ge-nology, for she had all the chronicles and proclamations clear back to Adam. But there.

VI

INTRODUCTORY COMPENDIUM.

she's dead and lies up yender, so ye cant git a word out of her an' I dunno what ye'U do." Some were suspicious that we had found a "rich dowry " in England, and would not allow us to copy records, lest they should be defrauded out of their share of the treasure. To others we had the infinite pleasure of furnishing the names of grandparents, of whom they had no knowlege. Some were interviewed whose genealogical store was so limited that they could not recall their father's name — if, indeed, they ever had one.

Since taking our seat at the desk-side three years ago, three thousand letters of inquiry have been written, containing from one to eight pages. All of the matter filling three thousand quarto pages of manuscript was written three several times ; first, in note books, then arranged on a slate, and finally trans- ferred to paper in form for printing. Considerable was copied by a careful amanuensis in the libraries of Boston, and from probate, town, and church regis- ters, in distant towns and states, by clerks who had custody of such records.

From the first inception of the plan upon which this book was formed, it has been the object of the compiler to produce a reliable and entertaining result, but the attempt has been attended, all along, with almost insuperable obstacles of a character scarcely thought of by the general reader. There is a vast difference between this class of books made from data gathered from innumer- able sources, disconnected and often contradictory in character, and some fictitious work which represents the fruit of a vivid imagination. The material for the former must be searched for as "with a lighted candle"; that for the latter is made to order. The author has had too much experience in this kind of work to even hope that the book will be free from errors; such are abso- lutely unavoidable. When the doctors do not agree, the patient is exposed to danger from their prescriptions. Family records preserved in old Bibles and framed registers do not harmonize with the births, deaths, and marriages recorded in town and church books, while the dates chiseled on the old grave- stones do not correspond with either. Living men and women solemnly declare, upon exclusive opportunity of knowing — being the only surviving wit- nesses who were present at the event — that they were born several months later than their more honest parents, who made record of their advent, sup- posed they were. To dispel the shadows from wedlock, such " set the clock forward " and confuse the data. Another prolific cause for errors is the illegible and often insufferable chirography the compiler finds in the letters written by those who cannot convey their thoughts to paper. One can sometimes trans- form "pot-hooks" and "trammels" into figures and letters, but what of rams' horns and crookshanks Those who allow such brain-wearing writing to leave their hands must bear the responsibility of errors resulting from the same.

In the arrangement of the materials incorporated into the topical sections of this work, an effort was made to weave historic incident, tradition, and legend, by a pleasing descriptive style, into a literary fabric, that might, by

INTRODUCTORY COMPENDIUM.

VII

perusal, be equally entertaining to old and young. We have written for the common people with the design of producing a real fireside companion. In illustrating the customs that prevailed among the pioneers, and the manners of the sturdy yeomen and their helpful dames, we have put old wine into old bot- tles ; have purposely employed old-fashioned and obsolete words with a two- fold object. First, such belonged to the period of which we wrote, and were significantly suited for our descriptive treatment; second, they were part of a dialect peculiar to the early settlers, now fast passing away, which we wished to permanently preserve on the printed page. In many instances we have permitted the old fathers and mothers to speak for themselves in their own favorite parlance. The style of composition, to the extent of ability, has been adapted to the character of the various subjects written upon. Dry, hard facts have been recorded in a concrete form ; when the subject was pathetic or picturesque, the resources of the imagination were drawn upon for scenic drapery.

We shall be disappointed if a perusal of the first part of the book does not amuse as well as instruct those who can appreciate lively incident. From long- faced old Pharisees we may look for criticism, because of a light vein running through things ecclesiastic and religious; let them come. We have cordially adopted the sentiment expressed by the saintly and sainted Dean Ramsey, in his popular book on "Scottish Life and Character," in which he writes: "It must be a source of satisfaction to an author to think that he has in any degree, even the lowest and most humble, contributed to the innocent recreation of a world, where care and sorrow so generally prevail." The author's own tem. perament was such that from his youth he saw the humorous side of every event — if such side there was — and his picturesque fancy invested many oc- currences with a lively color, when others saw only the practical, serious, or lamentable. While depicting some amusing episodes, of which he was cogni- zant in early life, he has beguiled many an hour of its sadness, and fondly hopes his readers may find something, formulated by his pen, to divert their minds from the cares and worry of a burden-bearing and rushing age.

Without wishing to offend any one we have written of men and events as they appeared to us without fear or favor. There are plenty of living wit- nesses who can corroborate our descriptive narratives, and we adopt the old adage that "a good story should never be spoiled for relation's sake."

We anticipate expressions of disappointment from such as do not find a his- tory of their families in this book, but there are good reasons for any seeming partiality. First, books devoted to the history of many of the old families have already been compiled and published, among them the genealogy of the Wentworths, Woodmans, Bradburys, Hazeltines, Jordans, Harmons, Cutts, and Scammons. Incidental mention of many members of these old families will be found, but no extended notices. Second, many of the pioneer fami-

VIII

INTROBUGTOEY COMPENDIUM.

lies did not long remain in the Saco river townships, and only meagre records could be found of them. 'I'hird, we have by urgent letters of inquiry sought to compile the history of certain families, but because representatives of the same manifested so much indifference and declined to furnish any information, they were let alone. Fourth, the scope and title of the book did not propose to embrace all Saco valley families; to do this a book would be required as large as that mentioned by the sacred writers. After condensing as much as consistent with the plan of the book it has grown out of all expected propor- tions, and the author regrets that he did not use a coarser sieve when winnow- ing his materials. The cordial co-operation of members of many old families, their painstaking exertions to collect records, and the carefulness exercised in arranging the same for the author's use, has greatly lightened his burdens and enhanced the pleasure of his work. We mention with much gratitude, among the many who have aided us, the names that follow : Capt. Eli B. Bean, Brownfield, Me.; A. F. Lewis, Esq., Fryeburg, Me.; Joseph Bennett, Esq., Denmark, Me.; Hon. L. A. Wadsworth, Hiram, Me.; Thomas Shaw, Esq., Stand- ish, Me. ; A. H. Barnes, Sumner O. Haley, and E. E. Abbott, Esq., Hollis, Me. ; Capt. Horatio Hight, and Hon. Seth L. Larrabee, Portland, Me. ; Charles H. Boothby, and Wm. B. Trask, Esqs., Boston, Mass. ; Hon. James Larrabee, Gardiner, Me.; Hon. Jesse Larrabee, New York City; Hon. Wm. F. Larra- bee, Phoebus, Va. ; Hon. William Larrabee, Clermont, Iowa ; Prof. John A. Larrabee, M. D., Louisville, Ky. ; Prof. William H. Larrabee, LL. D., New York City; Dominicus Milliken, Esq., St. George, N. B. ; Hon. James Milli- ken, Bellefont, Pa.; Hon. Seth L. Milliken, M. C, Washington, D. C; Hon. Daniel Milliken, Maiden, Mass.; Emery A. Milliken, Esq., Lexington, Mass.; Daniel Milliken, M. D., Hamilton, Ohio; S. E. MiUiken, M. D., Shade Valley, Pa. ; Charles J. Milliken, M. D., Cherryfield, Me., and Cyril P. Harmon, Esq., West Buxton, Me.

As an extra precaution against typographical errors, R. Fult: Wormwood, of the Evening Express editorial staff, Portland, has with great faithfulness read one set of proof sheets while this book was passing the press, and to him we are under obligations.

We also make grateful mention of Mrs. Nellie E. (Ridlon) French, of Cam- bridge, Mass., who has with much patience and tidy execution made copy for this work in the libraries of Boston.

To the Hon. Charles E. Boothby, of Brighton, England, we are indebted for valuable MSS. and photographic views.

This work contains 1,200 pages composed of more than 600,000 words, and in which are the names of rising 15,000 persons. The book comprises 209 topical sections and genealogies of 105 families. It contains 56 portraits and 12 plate views. For the common edition of 1,200 copies, more than two tons of paper were required.

INTRODUCTORY COMPENDIUM.

IX

With the hope that this book may prove the conservatory of such valuable data, rescued from scattered and frail documents and vanishing traditions of the Saco valley, as may entertain the descendants of the early pioneers and aid the future historian in compiling more exhaustive works, we now commit to the public the result of our many years of patient and pleasurable toil, ask- ing the forbearance of all for any errors that were overlooked in editing.

G. T. RiDLON, Sr.

Kezar Falls, Me., Jan. 30, 1895.

nn|allill^|illaltill^tilllll^

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Stable of (Kontents.

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TITLE

INTRODUCTION, . TABLE OF CONTENTS, . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS, THE SACO RIVER, . THE WHITE MOUNTAINS,

Traditions and Legends,

The Crystal Cascade, .

The Lost Maiden, .

The Pale-Face Captive,

THE SOKOKIS INDIANS, An Indian Burial Ground iNDLiN Weapons and Implements, Hostilities on the Saco, .

THE PEQUAWKET EXPEDITION, GARRISONS, BLOCK-HOUSES, FORTS, OLD TIMES ON THE SACO, .

The Farm-House, . Food and Cooking, Domestic Employment, Wool-Dressing, Flax-Dressing, . Paying Visits, .

Medicine Chest, Quaint Devices,

The Farm-House Attic,

The Meal Chest,

Trundle-Bedstead, .

Garter-Loom,

Foot-Stove,

Tin Kitchen,

The Bam Lantern, .

The Iron Toaster,

The Pillion,

Saddle-Bags,

The Shingle-Mould,

Jingle- Wright, .

Chebobbin Sled,

Sloven Cart,

Wooden Plow, .

The Axle-Tree,

Pod-Auguis,

III

XI XV

1

7

10 11 11 12

13 I" 20 •21

25 32 41 45 50 55 55 58 64 70 75 75 75 7G 76 76 77 77 77 77 78 78 79 79 79 79 79 80

Bow-Moukls, The Brick-Mould, Natural Forms, Corn-Husking, . Grain-Threshing, WINTER HARBOR SETTLEMENT, PLANTATION AND TOWNSHIP SET TLEMENTS, swackadock, Biddeford, . Founders of, Buxton, Founders of,

HOLLIS, .

Founders of, Standish, Founders of,

LiMINflTON, .

Founders of, Cornish, Founders of, Baldwin, Founders of, Hiram, . Traditions, . Three Hills of Rock, The Hancock Ponds, Founders of, Brief Mention, Brownfield, Founders of, Fryeburg, . Founders of, Denmark, Founders of,

CONVFAY,

Founders of, Bartlett, . Founders of. Hart's Location, Founders of.

81 81 83 86

90 90 91 93 104 105 111 114 120 122 131 133 135 138 141 143 144 145 145 14G 146 149 150 151 153 155 157 159 160 161 165 167 168 168

XII T A "RT TT

O UJ\ I liiJS 1 o.

DESERTED HEARTH-STONES, .

170

ABANDONED BURYINCi-GROUNDS, .

331

KiLLicK Mill Settlemknt,

170

A HORSEBACK JOURNEY WEST-

Dalton Right Settlement,

178

WARD

Desekted Homes in Hikam,

183

THE PIONEER MOTHER, . . .

349

EARLY MILLS AND LUMBERMEN, .

10A lJU

IHE OJJ)-l ASHIONED CRADLE,

355

Dedicatkjn of a Saw-Mill,

11)5

RURAL LIFE AND CHARACTER, .

361

Mills lii Saco and Biddeford,

1*)G

363

lyu

Farmers' Joys and Sorrows, .

364

Mills in Hollis

200

SACO VALLEY FIRESIDE TALES, .

374

X XI XLi Xj U lVXX5Xl(XviVX O V^j^YiVlX^, .

onK zuo

Jeremiah Tarbox

374

iVlAo 1 riri xLo AJN xJ MAo 1 liN tjr,

211

376

EARLY CHURCHES AND MINISTERS,

219

Churches of Saco and Biddeford,

220

Oio

Churches of Buxton

379

224

Freewill Baptist Church,

220

Pearl Fishing,

380

Second Freewill Baptist Church,

230

Crimes and Trial of Bill Rogers,

382

First Baptist Church

230

*'A Game o' Keards,"

385

231

"Exercising Marcy," . . . .

386

Churches in Hollis, .... Freewill Baptist Church,

231 232

A Grist to Grind, .....

386

Methodist Church

233

38G

Churches in Limington,

233

T? C'lVT 4 K TJ" 4 TJ T XT' (~\f^(^TJT> D li* M U'

lY Vj iVl AlvlV Axi Xj i'-i V UxvtvXliJNijlli, . ■ .

386

x'reewiii -Daptisi ouurcn, . ,

234

387

Churches in Standish,

235

Gentle Treatment

388

Congregational Church,

235

389

Destruction of the old Meeting-House,

237

Old Maid in a Trap

390

Churches in Baldwin,

238

Hung on a Fence-Stake, .

393

Congregational Church,

238

i~!TTTTT?r''H"R'S! I'M f~^.rH?'MTQT-I'

X^xlUJvljXlJljiSXJNV/'VJXCjNlftrl, . . . ,

393

v-'nuxv'^rlJLiS IJN xnirvAiVl, ....

Burnham's Hens

394

Political Rivalry, ...

395

Churches in Denmark,

241

Churches in Brownfield, .

241

Thornton's Dog,

395

Thomas Todd, the Reaper,

396

Churches in Fryeburg,

242

Churches in Conway, ....

243

397

244

A Desperate Character, .

398

Freewill Baptist Cliurch,

244

Deerwander Bear Hunt, . .

399

Churches in Bartlett,

244

A Crowded Grave- Yard, .

400

Freewill Baptist Churcli,

244

A Decapitated Man

400

Methodist Church,

245

Running Bonnie Eagle Falls,

401

"A GINERAL MEETING," .

246

A Catamount Chase, ....

402

The Primitive Preacher, .

246

A Singular Music-Box,

403

THE COCHRAN DELUSION,

2G9

404

THE MORMAN INVASION, . .

281

Best Kind of Bait, ....

404

A PLANTATION PASTORAL VISITA-

405

286

The Bell of Moscow, ....

410

EARLY SACO VALLEY TAVERNS, .

TTt^t/^t T? TlA'vTirT T~)ppirFT? ''^ Savings

410

293

411

STAGE LINES AND DRIVERS, .

301

Loaded with Crockery

412

THE WESTERN RESERVE EMIGRA- TION

A Stiff TTnner Lin

412 412

310

412

PRIMITIVE COURTSHIP AND MAR-

To Suit Himself

413

RIAGE

317

413

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

XIII

Speechless Pigs,

From Jerusalem,

Hair of His Head,

A Smooth Stick,

A Four- Year-Old Boy, .

No Outside Rows,

A Fall Colt,

Raised on a Burn,

Shoulder-Straps,

All in One Tune,

Aunt Martha's Dress,

The Yellow Dog,

Another Kind of Tracks,

My Little Brother Joe, .

Cold as a Dead Man,

In a Pillow-Case to Dry,

A Rabbit Hunt,

Couldn't Bear Everything,

Darned Good Grit, .

PAGE

413 413 414 414 414 414 414 414 414 415 415 415 415 415 415 41G 416 416 416

Wished to Keep His Hair, The Begging Minister, . Hauling up Corn, The New Cow-Bell, . Without Shedding a Tear, Carried the Cat to Mill, . PECULIAR CHARACTERS, George MacDonald, Squire Yates Rogers, Uncle David Martin, The Basket-Maker,

PATCHWORK AND QUILTING

FRAMES

SIGNS AND SUPERSTITIONS, . THE OLD MILITIA TRAIN-BAND,

TRAPPING, AND FISH

HUNTING ING,

FAMILY HISTORIES.

PAGE

Appleton Family, .

. 445

DuNNELL Family,

. G32

Atkinson Family, .

. 447

Edgecomb Family, .

. 635

Ayer Family, . . . • .

. 452

Elliott Family,

. 677

Babrons-Barnes,

. 455

Emery Family

. 678

Bean Family

. 456

Fessbnden Family, .

. 681

Benton Family,

. 464

Field Family, ....

. 686

Beery Family

. 465

Flanders Family, .

. 690

Black Family, . .

. 465

Foss Family, ....

. 690

BooTHBY Family,

. 467

Frye Family

. 691

Boston Family,

. 514

Gibson Family

. 694

Boulter Family,

. 516

GooDBNow Family, .

. 694

Boynton Family,

. .518

GOOKIN AND GOOGIN,

. 694

Brackett Family, .

. 520

Graffam Family, .

. 697

Bradstkeet Family,

. 523

Grant Family

. 698

Bkagdon Family,

. 525

Gray Family, ....

. 699

Bryant and Bryent,

. 525

Gordon Family,

. 701

Buck Family, ....

. 546

Haines Family,

.■ 705

Bullock Family,

. 546

Haley Family

. 706

Came and Kame,

. 550

Hamlin Family,

. 720

Cable and Carll, .

. 555

Hancock Family,

. 722

Chadbourne Family,

. 567

Hastie and Hasty, .

. 725

Clay Family, ....

. 577

HiGGINS AND HAGENS,

. 727

Clemons Family,

. 580

HoBSON Family,

. 727

Coolbroth Family,

. 584

Howard Family,

. 737

Cousins Family, . .

. 590

Hubart-Hubbard, .

. 740

Davis Family

. 597

Huntress Family, .

. 741

Dearborn Family, .

. 612

Hutchinson Family,

. 742

Decker Family,

. 613

Ingalls Family,

. 742

Deeeing Family,

. 621

Jameson Family,

. 761

Dresser Family, .

. 631

Jenkins and Junkins, .

. 763

XIV

TABLE OF

CONTENTS.

I'AtiE

JosR Family,

. 705

Pingrkk Family,

. 1120

Larkabee Family, .

. 787

Plaisted Family, .

. 1121

JjAnk Family,

. 873

Rankin Family,

. 1123

Leavitt Family,

. 881

Kendall Family,

. 1)29

Lewis Family, .

. 884

Redland Family,

. 1126

Lord Family,

. 88!)

RuMEBY Family,

. . . 1126

MacArthur Family,

. 896

Sands Family

. 11.33

MacDonald Family,

. 898

Sawyer Family,

. 1137

Mansfield Family,

. noi

Shirley Family,

. 1146

Manson Family,

. 1)02

Smith Family, .

. 1147

Marr Family, .

.< . . <j03

Spring Family,

. 11.50

Martin Family,

. 908

Stackpole Family,

. 1152

McKenney Family,

. 913

Stanley Family,

. 1153

Means Family, .

. 923

Staples Family,

. 1159

Meeds and Meads, .

. 925

Steele Family,

. 1160

Meserve Family,

. 948

Swan Family

. 1161

Merrill Family,

. 939

Symonds Family,

. 1162

Merbifield Family,

. 92G

Saunders Family, .

. 1162

Milliken Family, .

. 95C

Tibbetts Family,

. 1162

Mitchell Family, .

. 1069

Townsbnd Family, .

. 1168

Moses Family, .

. 1070

ToMPSON Family,

. 1174

Mulvey Family,

. 1074

TowLE Family

. 1177

Nason Family, .

. 1074

True Family, ....

. 1184

Newbegin Family, .

. 1078

Tyler Family

. 1184

Norton Family,

■ . . . 1083

Usher Family, ....

. 1187

O'Brien Family,

. 108C

Vaughan Family, .

. 1192

Osgood Family,

. 1087

Wakefield Family,

. 1196

Parker Family,

. 1089

Walker Family,

. 1196

Patterson Family,

. 1092

Warren Family,

. 1199

Pease Family, .

. 1102

Watts Family

. 1207

Pennell Family,

. 1103

Wentworth Family,

. 1208

Pendexter Family,

. 1107

Woodsum Family, .

. 1208

Pike Family,

. 1119

Young Family

. 1218

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Una:

PLATE VIEWS.

Memorials of the Sokokis Indians.

Saco Fort (1696)

Block-House

Clock-Reel and Spinney,

Fine Old Dishes

A Busy Family'

Carding and Spinning, . Colonial Relics, ....

PAGE 20

33 36 55 55 57 58 76

Plan of Fryeburg, . . . . The Home of Brother Hunchcome, Sal Singleton's Quilting Party,

BooTHBY Hall

Ashburn Hall

Mount Edgcumbe, ....

Larrabee Homestead

Milliken House,

PAGE

153

256 430 467 468 636 792

PORTRAITS.

PAGE

G. T. Ridlon, Sr. (Frontispiece)

Hon. Jesse Larrabee,

842

152

Prof. William C. Larrabee

LL. D.,

849

Gen. Daniel Bean axd Wife,

460

Prof. William H. Larrabee,

LL. D.,

851

Rev. Samuel Boothby,

. 490

Hon. James M. Larrabee,

8.54

Capt. Charles W. Boothby, .

. 497

Philip J. Larrabee, Esq.,

855

George H. Boothby, ....

500

Seth L. Larrabee, Esq., .

858

501

Manson G. Larrabee,

861

Charles H. Boothby, Esq., .

. 502

William P. Merrill,

943

Col. Stephen Boothby, .

. 505

John B. Merrill,

. 946

Hon. Roswell C. Boothby, .

. 507

Edward F. Milliken,

965

Eugene L. Boothby, M.D.,

509

Charles H. Mulliken,

982

, 548

Samuel E. Milliken, M.D.,

987

Lieut. John H. Came,

. 554

Hon. Daniel L. Milliken,

1002

George Carll,

. 503

Joseph L. Milliken, .

1014

Peletiah Carll, ....

563

Hon. James A. Milliken,

1015

Hon. William G. Davis, .

. 601

Hon. Seth L. Milliken, .

1016

Capt. James Edgecomb and Wife,

. 660

Weston F. Milliken,

1017

675

William H. Milliken,

1018

Capt. Noah Haley, ....

. 712

Charles R. Milliken,

1019

Hon. Isaac T. Hobson,

. 732

George Milliken,

. 1020

Hon. Samuel D. Hobson,

. 735

Seth M, Milliken,

1021

Phineas H. Ingalls, M.D.,

. 757

Hon. Dennis L. Milliken,

1052

Capt. Adam Larrabee, .

. 793

Fred E. Milliken,

1053

Hon. William Larrabee,

. 794

Hon. Elias Milliken,

1054

George H. Larrabee, M.D., .

. 804

George H. Milliken,

1056

. 819

Hon. John D. Milliken, .

1063

Hon. Charles H. Larrabee, .

. 831

Rev. Thomas G. Mosks, .

1074

Hon. William F. Larrabee, .

. 836

Flanders New^begin,

1081

Prof. John A. Larrabee, M.D., .

. 837

Elias H. Newbbgin, .

1082

John H. Larrabee, M.D.,

. 838

Eugene S. Pbndexter,

1116

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i

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Forth from New Hampshire's granite steeps

Fair Saco rolls in chainless pride, Rejoicing as it laughs and leaps

Down the gray mountain's rugged side ; The stern, rent crags and tall, dark pines Watch that young pilgrim passing hy, While calm above them frowns or shines The black, torn cloud, or deep blue sky.

Soon, gathering strength, it swiftly takes

Through Bartlett's vales its tuneful way. Or hides in Conway's fragrant brakes. Retreating from the glare of day; Now, full of vigorous life, it springs

From the strong mountain's circling arms. And roams in wide and lucid rings

Among green Fryeburg's woods and farms.

Here with low voice it comes and calls For tribute from some hermit lake; And here it wildly foams and falls. Bidding the forest echoes wake ; Now sweeping on, it runs its race

By mound and mill in playful glee ; Now welcomes with its pure embrace The vestal waves of Ossipee.

— James G. Lyons.

EATHEN NATIONS have worshiped rivers as divine and with offerings of wealth have sought to propitiate their seeming wrath. Along these mighty water-ways, which are the life-giving arteries of Nature's system, the most remarkable events in the world's history have transpired. Guided by the course of rivers the early explorers found their way, and along their borders the tide of immigration has been directed. From the mountains through which, with the unyielding axe of ages, they have cut a highway, deposits are conveyed to enrich the valleys below; they bring man food from the resources of the hills, and by com- merce, from lands afar. By their unceasing flow they have leveled the land where the skill of human engineers would prove unavailing.

How unequally puny man, with all his art, contends with the mighty force of rivers! Increasing in volume, they upheave and bear away the most solid masonry; being diminished, they obstinately refuse to carry the burdens imposed upon them. Although man has harnessed the untamed waters to the chariot wheels of industry, and has made them, like an enslaved Samson,

2

77//!,' SA<;(> I!IVI<:H.

"grind at the mill," yet, when detained too long in artificial channels, they break down all barriers and rush with impetuous fury to the lower levels of their natural pathway.

With what various changes of aspect great rivers proceed on their way ! Now trembling, foaming, and roaring in mad haste .over the uneven pavement of the ragged defiles from which they emerge to pass with grand and meas- ured sweep between the alluvial intervales below. We observe the tortuous rapids, the clinging curves with which the passing waters embrace each jutting boulder, and the gentle transition to calm repose as they reach the unob- structed channel, and, like heated coursers flecked with foam, pass into the cooling eddies for rest.

To the beholder of natural phenomena there is a common propensity to invest moving water with the conscious power of feeling, while, to the thought- ful observer, it is impressively suggestive of lessons which involve the issues of human life. There is the natural effect of impending ruin, desperate resolution, and fearful agony. When nearing the falls the waters become visibly agitated and seem to struggle backward in the extremity of fear before being hurled into the abyss below. Approaching the narrow gorge with its towering w"alls of granite upon which the sentinel pines lean forward to watch the coming conflict, the contracted stream, like a column of armed men, closes ranks for the final charge against the opposing bulwark. And the rocks mid- stream, that rise above the surface, seem to be tortured with supernatural dread and fling back with giant force the menacing waters.

Should the venturesome observer find a foothold upon the shelving ledge, and gaze downward upon the dark and impenetrable waters, he will be oppressed with a sense of profound gloom; an unexplainable dread seizes upon him, an unearthly shudder passes over him. At a distance the river has the appearance of a corrugated band of silver laid down in the rocky chasm.

There are few rivers in New England that present a greater variety of formation along their borders, few environed by natural scenery more pictur- esque and beautiful, than the Saco. Its course downward from the mountains to the sea is marked by a succession of rapids of remarkable violence which alternate between the cataract, the whirlpool, and the deep, dark eddy.

How often, when sitting upon the mossy bank under the whispering pines, watching the ceaseless, unwearied flow of this stream, have we asked, "Ancient and majestic river, when and where hadst thou birth?" If invested with the power of articulate speech we might have heard thee respond in the language of sacred story, "Before Abraham was I am."

What mean those writers of European history who designate our continent as the "New World," and who boast that me have no antiquity! Had they perused the records cut in our tables of stone, they would have learned that we have foundations as ancient as their own. What is the age of ivy-grown

THE SACO RIVER.

3

cathedral, or crumbling stones of feudal fortress, when compared with the awful pillared structures reared by the architect of the eternal hills, or when measured by the vast chronology of creation! Storied Saco! Long before the yellow moccasin of the stealthy red man had pressed thy banks, or ever Naaman had bathed in the healing waters of Jordan; antecedent to the day when the bullrush basket containing the infant law-giver of Israel had been laid beside the sacred Nile, or the pyramids were founded; ere Noah had laid the keel of his ark, or Abel had offered sacrifice; aye, when the streams of Eden flowed through a sinless world and watered the gardens of Paradise, this unknown river of the Western hemisphere was cradled in the cloud-curtained security of the templed hills, baptized by the rain-giving heavens, and kissed by the benignant sunshine; yea, had marshalled its forces behind the embat- tled terraces of the north, forced a passage through the granite gateway of the mountains, and in the majesty of its strength had swept down from the table- lands on its hastening march to the ocean, demanding tribute from a hundred subordinate streams, unchallenged and unhindered. Upon these passing waters the leaves of unnumbered centuries had fallen, and the giant oak, conservatory of its own unquestioned chronology, had reached forth its wide- spreading arms and dropped its annual acorns into these uncrediting waters.

Across the placid coves the swimming otter wove his chevroned wake and reached his subterranean cell unharmed. Upon the untitled meadows the beaver, guided by nature's unerring law, summoned his industrious artisans and built the dome-like huts of his populous hamlet undisturbed. Into the miniature harbors the decorous wild goose convoyed his feather-plated fleet, and cast anchor for the night under the shelter of the woodland bank. Unheard by human ear, the clatter of the wandering kingfisher reverberated above the roaring waterfall, while the red-deer dipped his antlers, and cooled his flanks, in the shadowy coves. When darkness fell, the ambling bear came down the bank to drink; the lonely serenade of the loon mingled with the plaintive note of wakeful night bird, and the alternating scream of panther and howl of wolf passed as a challenge across the unhumanized solitudes from mountain to valley. While the graceful foliage of the overhanging hemlock was reflected upon the unruffled waters from above, the opulent cowlily launched her golden boat below. Upon the mossy log by the riverside the male grouse beat his rumbling reveille, while his mottled consort brooded her young upon the nest of pine boughs near at hand. Here, the graceful squirrel chattered as glee- fully to his mate as now; here, upon the spruce limb, he arranged his morning toilet and dropped his nutshell into the passing current; here, unheard by man, the multitude of birds sang the same measures carolled on creation's morn, and skimmed, on shining wing, the glimmering waters of the restless river.

In these vast solitudes nature's grand cathedral, whose terraced walls were the created masonry of the granite hills, whose lofty towers were the

4

77/A; SAdO IlIVKH.

Storm-splintered pinnacles that pierced the clouds, whose pillared aisles were capitaled and architraved with foliage work more exquisitely beautiful than marble touched by Grecian sculptor's chisel, whose prgan notes were the voice of many waters that rose and swelled like the chorus of some mighty orchestra, softened and subdued by the mingling music of -the chanting pines in the arboreal galleries above, had been erected.

Here, in the deep primeval forest, the brave aboriginal inhabitants searched for those medicinal treasures stored in the pharmacy of nature, and from these compounded the curative preparations for which the tribe has long been renowned. Here, upon the river bank, the Sokokis built his bark wigwam, , upon these waters he propelled his beaded canoe of birch with noiseless pad. die of ash, and in the pellucid depths saw the reflection of his dusky form.

The adventuresome Vikings, reared in a land indented with intersecting voes, when they discovered our rivers upon which the tide ebbed and flowed^ supposed them to be channels leading through the continent to some western sea, and with the contempt of danger and ambition for exploration charac- teristic of their race, boldly entered some of these broad estuaries in their long, narrow galleys and were soon astonished to find themselves confronted by a frowning waterfall. So the early mariners, who felt their way around our New England coast, and entered the mouths of our streams, sailed not far before having encountered impassable barriers. How true was this of the Saco ! The topography of the country traversed by this river seemed designed to constitute it a chain of water powers nearly its entire length, and some of the most valuable of these are close to the seashore, linked with navigation.

The voices of the inland waterfalls were invitations to the enterprising colonists to arise and build; they told of latent power that might be used for the good of the inhabitants, and they were not long allowed to remain unim- proved. But for these mill privileges what might have been the condition of the Saco valley to-day ! To them the thriving villages, the broad farms, and the populous towns, owe their existence. Along the banks by the trail of red man the millwright penetrated the timber-abounding forest; upon some ledge above the wasted waters he stood and formed his ideal of the initiatory foundation from which the mills and hamlets arose; and soon the workman's shout, the mallet stroke, and the ringing saw were heard about the falls. Houses were erected for the mill-men and a mansion for the owner; fields along the rich intervales expanded into broad and smiling farms, and thus our early settlements grew. Great boats were built with which to float the wares down the river, and noble oxen, tugging at the bow, moved the odorous lum- ber from the mill-house to the landings.

Gradually, but firmly, the materialized wave of settlement moved inland, up stream, and spread itself along the Ossipees, tributaries of the Saco, and from valley to valley, until cosy homes, surrounded by fruitful farms, nestled under the shadows of the granite hills of the north.

THE SACO RIVEB.

5

Science has found no golden key by which the phenomenal mystery involved in the movement of water within and upon the surface of the earth can be unlocked; this is one of Nature's secrets which she declines to unfold. Regulated by its own peculiar law, the floods of water obey their Creator's behest with as much regularity as do the bodies of the planetary system. But we are often led to inquire how the great reservoirs, elevated upon mountains, from which the rivers rise, are supplied with water. Some of these are supported at such altitudes that the law of gravity has no discovered part in filling them, and no season's rainfall could replenish them. Somewhere under the earth's crust, unheard by mortal ear, some potent enginery is forcing the water uphill into these mountain ponds, from whence they are thrown down into the river and carried to the exhaustless ocean.

In our Saco river we find a remarkable example of this action of water. Taking its rise from Saco pond, which is nearly 2,000 feet above the sea level, it drains the southwestern district of the White Mountains. The small stream passes through the Notch, falling 600 feet in the first three miles, and nearly as much more in the next nine miles. Along this distance it flows between lofty mountains, walled in by solid granite. At the west line of Bartlett the Saco is 745 feet above the ocean. In the next eight miles, to the mouth of Ellis river, its descent is abouty thirty feet to the mile. At the line between Maine and New Hampshire, the water of the Saco is elevated 400 feet above the high tide level.

The course of the Saco spans a distance of about 140 miles; it is a rapid and remarkably clear stream. Its head is in the western pass of the White Hills, while the Ellis river, which forms a considerable tributary of the Saco, rises in the eastern pass. After flowing in a southeast course for about thirty miles, receiving several streams on its way, it enters Maine across the line between Conway and Fryeburg; then, as if something had been forgotten and left behind, turns north and runs in that direction about fifteen miles, when Cold river pours its crystal and refreshing tribute into the wandering stream. The Saco then turns in a southerly direction, forming a great bend, and sepa- rates the towns of Brownfield and Denmark. In Fryeburg the river runs thirty miles and has formed, where once there was evidently a great lake, extensive and very productive intervales. In all this distance it progresses but four miles on an air line, thus forming a natural curiosity that has excited the wonder of many a visitor. In 1817 and 1818 a canal three miles in length was cut across about four miles below the extremity of the curve, which laid the river bed above entirely dry. Lovewell's pond, through which the Indians used to pass when journeying up and down the Saco, lies three miles below the canal. This whole district was early known as the Pequawket country. From this point, the river runs sixty miles in a southeasterly direction before its waters mingle with the tide. At the Great Falls in Hiram the stream plunges down seventy- two feet.

6

Tim sAdo iavi<:it.

Thirty miles from its mouth, the Great Ossipee contributes one-third of the Saco's water; this stream issues from Ossipee pond, eighteen miles westward. Between this point at Cornish, and the incoming of the Little Ossipee at Limington, Steep Falls, twenty feet in descent, are formed. Passing onward to Bonnie Eagle P'alls it then rushes madly -down through a rock-walled channel to Moderation Falls, Bar Mills, and Salmon Falls, where it plunges down, boiling, roaring through a narrow defile cut deep in the solid rock. Below are Union Falls; thence the river descends to the head of Saco F'alls, where it is divided by Indian Island, and on either side falls over a precipice forty-two feet and mingles with the salt water of the bay. The view of the cataract on the Saco side is majestic and grand.

Saco river is greatly disturbed by freshets. The water frequently rises ten feet, and has reached the height of twenty-five feet, resulting in a great destruction of property along its entire course. In 1775 a stream called New river broke out of the White Mountains and discharged into the Ellis river; thence into the Saco, which was so enormously swollen by this avalanche of waters that mills, bridges, large quantities of lumber, and many domes- tic animals were swept away. Very destructive freshets occurred in 18 14, when saw-mills and bridges were taken bodily from their foundations and carried down the mighty current. Again in 1843 there was a memorable rise in the river which nearly cleared its banks of mills, houses, and lumber. Some of the saw-mills, chained to sturdy old oaks upon the bank, were car- ried away, the heavy chains being torn in pieces by the resistless flood.

Although the lands adjacent to the river have been nearly denuded of the grand old pines that once grew there, the lumbermen land their logs upon the banks, and the stream is the great highway, or rather water-way, over which the bi"awny, blue-shirted river-men "drive" them to the mills below.

Who that spent their early years on the Saco, that has fished along its banks, sailed upon its surface, bathed in its eddies, or listened to its murmur, can cease to look back with pleasure to those careless, happy days ?

" Hail! liail again, my native stream, Scene of my boyhood's earliest dream ! Witli solitary step once more I tread thy wild and sylvan shore, And pause at every turn to gaze Upon thy dark, meandering maze. What though obscure the woody source, What though unsmig thy humble course ; What if no lofty, classic name Gives to thy peaceful waters fame, Still can thy rural haunts impart A solace to this chastened heart."

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IHE "White Hills" are the birthplace of the infant Saco, and through their narrow gateway the tiny stream emerges into the warming sunshine and the "open ground." We have only sacred chronology by which to estimate the age of these North American pyramids, and no means of knowing when they were first seen by white men. In 1 63 1 Thomas Eyre, one of the New Hamp.shire patentees, forwarded a letter to Ambro.se Gibbons containing the following statement: "By the bark Warwick we send you a factor to take charge of the trade goods ; also a sol- dier for discovery." Some of the early writers assumed that this "soldier" was one Darby Field, an Irishman, who discovered the White Mountains in 1632. This view is now discredited. The finst successful attempt to ascend the mountains was made in 1642.

In his history of New England, Winthrop says, " One Darby Field, an Irish- man, living about Piscataquack, being accompanied by two Indians, went to the top of the White hill. He made the journey in eighteen days. " Here we find ourselves on solid ground where tradition and history are in agreement. Darby Field was a real explorer, and left numerous descendants who settled on the bank of the river along whose course he made his way from Saco to the base of the mountains ; and these related again and again the story of their ances- tor's adventures at their fireside. He lived at Oyster river, or Dover, and on his return from his journey to these "crystal hills," he related that the distance from Saco was about one hundred miles, and we assume that he followed the river valley from that place. After forty miles' travel they found the ground to be ascending nearly all the way; and when twelve miles from the summit, found no tree nor herbage, but "low savins," which in places they were enabled to walk upon. Their course up the steep ascent was along a ridge, between two valleys filled with snow, out of which two branches of the Saco issued, meeting at the foot of the hill, where they found an Indian town with about two hundred souls therein.

Another party, conducted by Richard Vines and Thomas Georges ascended the mountain. These also reported the existence of the Indian village on the bank of the Saco. From this settlement they ascended in wooded lands some thirty miles ; then upon shattered rocks without trees or grass about seven miles. These explorers reported a plain at the top of the mountain with an area of three

8

77/ A' WlirriC MOUNTAINS.

or four miles, covered with stones; upon this plateau rose a pinnacle about a mile in heij^ht, witli a nearly level plain upon its summit from which "four great rivers took their rise." These men seem to have been bewildered by the grandeur of the spectacle and their vision became perverted.

In a book published in 1672, entitled " New England Rarities Discovered, " is an account of the discovery of the White Mountains in which exaggeration ran wild. Glowing descriptions of precious stones found there were given, and among the wonderful things enumerated that had been discovered were " sheets of muscova glass " forty feet long. The mountains were said to cover one hundred leagues in extent.

A party of explorers ascended the highest peak in 1725, and another in 1746. The last party was alarmed by what appeared to be the constant report of muskets ; but by investigation they learned that the noises were produced by stones falling over a precipice.

The "Notch" was discovered by a hunter named Timothy Nash, in 177 1. This pioneer had retired from the settlements and made him a habitation in the wilderness. As the tradition runs, he climbed a tree upon one of the mount- ain sides to look for large game when he saw this defile south of him. He descended at once and turned his steps in that direction, passing through the granite gateway on his way to Portsmouth. In an interview with Gov. Went- worth he described to him what he had discovered, but His Excellency discred- ited the report. As Nash constantly and seriously affirmed that his statement was strictly true, the curiosity of the Governor was excited, and to test the veracity of his visitor he promised that, if he would bring him a horse through this mountain pass from Lancaster, he should be rewarded with a grant of land. He was assured by Nash that this feat could and would be accom- plished ; then he turned his steps northward. Securing the services of another bold spirit, Benjamin Sawyer, the two lowered the horse down over a precipice by a rope, and delivered him safe and sound at Portsmouth.

The grant of land was given according to promise, and was named " Nash and Sawyer's Location. "

In 1803, a road costing $40,000, extending through the Notch, was built and became the thoroughfare by which the farmers of northern New Hampshire and Vermont, carried their produce to the Portland market. A hundred teams have been known to go through the mountain pass on a winter day.

One of the earliest to establish a home in the White Mountain region was Eleazer Rosebrook, a former resident of Groton, Mass., who settled in Lan- caster in 1772, removing hence, in a short time, to Monadnock, where he built a house more than thirty miles from any white man, and reached by spotted trees. During the Revolution he removed to Vermont and served in the war. In 1792, he returned to the wilderness, reaching Nash and Sawyer's Location in midwinter. Here he began to cut timber for a homestead and soon erected

THE WHITE MOUNTAINS.

9

a log-house near the "Giant's Grave," not far from the site of the Fabyan House. He built a saw-mill, grist-mill, and large barns, stables and sheds for the accommodation of travelers. Rosebrook was one of nature's noblemen, " renowned for his heroism in war and his enterprise in time of peace. " *

Here, under the grim shadows of the templed hills, he gathered around his hospitable fireside the sturdy farmers who, when on their market trip, tarried with him for a night, and thus he extended his acquaintance and friend- ship until his name became the synonym of good-fellowship and generosity. He died in 1817.

Abel Crawford, descended from an ancient Scottish family, was another noted pioneer of the mountain country. He came from Guildhall, Vt., only a few years after Mr. Rosebrook, who was his father-in-law, and settled twelve miles south, near where the famous house named for the family now stands. In 1819, he opened a path to Mt. Washington. In 1822, his son, Ethan Allen Crawford, opened a new path to the hills by another course. When seventy- five years of age, Abel Crav.ford made his firsr journey on iiors'eback to the top of Mt. Washington. Previous to this time visitors to the mountains, attended by experienced guides, ascended on foot. For more than sixty years this noble man had entertained strangers at his fireside and guided them along the danger- ous paths cut through the forests to view the scenes of wild grandeur nature had hidden away here, and when venerable years had made it unsafe for him longer to attempt such services, he would cast longing looks upward and sigh for the privilege of standing once more on Mt. Washington's summit, where, like Moses on Nebo, he could "view the landscape o'er." It is said of him that in the spring months during his last years, he would watch for the coming of visitors with the same eagerness with which boys look for the return of the birds. He would sit in his armchair during the mild weather, supported by his dutiful daughter, his snowy hair falling on his shoulders, and watch and wait for the first traveler who might enter the wild mountain pass. Soon after the stage coaches began to pass his door with their numerous passengers, having accom- plished his important mission, he sank down to rest at the age of 85 years.

Ethan Allen Crawford succeeded to the estate of Capt. Rosebrook, but the extensive buildings were soon destroyed by fire. He was known as the "giant of the mountains," and was nearly seven feet in stature. He kept a journal of

*Mrs. Rosebrook was a large, resolute and powerful woman, well qualified to meet the experiences Incident to pioneer life. On one occasion, when her husband was absent, a party of drunken Indians came to her house at night and asked to be admitted. She kindly allowed them to enter, and for a time they were civil ; but from the effects of the liquor they continued to drink, became insolent. • She determined to be rid of their company and with a voice of authority ordered them out-of-doors. Reluctantly they withdrew save one great squaw who turned upon Mrs. Rosebrook to resist her mandate ; but the latter seized her by the hair, dragged her to the threshhold, and thrust her out. In an instant the squaw sent a tomahawk whizzing at her which cut the wooden latch, upon which she held her hand, from the door. On the following day this squaw returned and asked pardon.

10

TIII'J WIIITIi: MOUNTAINS.

his adventures which contain many a quaint entry. Some of the most eminent men of liis day were entertaiiujd under Ids roof. It was not uncommon for him to come in from a l)ear hunt, or fisidng excursion, attired in his rouj^li huntinj^ garb, to find a college president, learned judge, or a member of congress at his hearthstone. He once assisted Daniel Webster to Llie \.op of Mt. Washington, and recorded the following in his book : "We went up without meeting anything of note more than was common for me to find, but to him things appeared interesting ; and when we arrived there, Mr. Webster said, ' Mount Washington ! I have come a long distance, have toiled hard to reach your summit and now you give me a cold reception. I am extremely sorry I cannot stay to view the grand prospect that lies before me, and nothing prevents but this cold, uncom- fortable atmosphere in which you reside.' " When descending a storm of snow began to fall and the cold became so intensified that their blood nearly curdled. Webster was much pleased with his stalwart guide and host, and Ethan adds; "The following morning after paying his bill, he made me a handsome present of twenty dollars." Ethan Allen Crawford was a noble specimen of manhood, brave, and of good moral character.

For many years the Crawford family alone entertained all strangers who visited the White Mountains, and all the bridle paths on the west side were cleared by them. They were bold, fearless men, strong as lions, and their muscular arms have been the support of many an ambitious pilgrim to the mountains when attempting to reach higher altitudes.

TRADITIONS AND LEGENDS.

Nancy Barton is supposed to have been the first white woman who passed through the Notch of the White Hills voluntarily. She was employed to keep a boarding-house for lumbermen in Jefferson ; was industrious, faithful, and toiled early and late for small wages. Her employer was taken captive by the Indians and she served them liquor until they were all helpless ; then cut the thongs with which he was bound and secured his liberty. She carefully hus- banded her earnings, and in time had laid down a handsome sum. She was engaged to be married to one of the workmen and arrangements were made for them to proceed to Portsmouth, her native place, where they were to be united and make a home. She trustingly, but unwisely, placed her money in the hands of her affianced, and began making preparations for her journey. This having become known to her employer, he determined not to lose so valuable a house- keeper, and to circumvent the marriage he sent her away on errands to Lancaster. This was meanness beyond description, and the result was tragic. During her absence her professed lover left the locality with a party going south, taking her money away with him. She somehow heard of this affair on the same day, and quickly matured plans for pursuit. With a bundle of clothing she hastened

THE WHITE MOUNTAINS.

11

down the snow-covered trail, guided by the trees spotted for that purpose, and after a weary journey of thirty miles, having traveled all night through a dark forest, she reached the spot where the party had camped. The fire had gone out. Benumbed with cold, she knelt about the charred brands and tried in vain to blow from them a flame. Again she took up her weary march, fording the icy waters of the Saco several times, until exhausted nature succumbed to cold and fatigue and she sank down to rise no more. Her clothes were coated with ice and loaded with the falling snow ; her curdled blood ceased to flow and death released her from her distress. A relief party had been hurried for- ward after the storm of snow came on, but they were too far behind to save her life; her rigid body was found buried under the drifting snow upon the south side of the stream in Bartlett, since known as "Nancy's brook." Her faithless lover learned of her sad fate, and being seized with keen remorse for his crime, became hopelessly insane and ended his days by a miserable death. All the particulars of this affair were related in my presence when a boy, and every recurrence of the sad story has oppressed my mind as I thought of the hell- ish spirit that prompted men to such desperate deeds of wickedness. Grim Justice could find no doom too dark as a penalty for such crime. The early inhabitants believed the ghost of Nancy Barton's betrayer and robber lingered about the brookside where she perished, and that his terrible wailing lamentations were often heard there at night.

The "Crystal Cascade." — On the Ellis river, one of the tributaries of the Saco, among the mountains, there is a beautiful waterfall with which a pathetic legend is connected. When that region was inhabited only by the red men, a chief, according to the custom of his people, had made choice of a brave and stalwart Indian to become the husband of his daughter. Learning that the affections of the maiden had been given to one of a neighboring tribe who was quite worthy of her, the old chief could not fully disregard her wishes. A council was called and the old men decided that the girl should be given to the one most skillful with the bow and arrow. A target was put up and the two young warriors prepared for the contest. When all was ready, the twang of the bow-string rang out on the air, the feathered arrows sped on their errand, and he of her father's choice was declared to be the champion. Before the shouts of his friends had died away, the two loyal-hearted lovers had joined hands and were fleeing through the forest. Swift- footed pursuers were instantly on their trail, and it became a race for life or death. Finding the pursuers likely to overtake them, when the lovers reached the edge of the precipice down which the cataract plunges, clasped in each other's arms they threw themselves into the rushing waters ; and now, as sentimental visitors watch the shining mists arise before the falls, fancy pictures two graceful and etherial forms, hand in hand, standing there. This is the legend.

The Lost Maiden. — An Indian family living on the head waters of the

12

THE WIUTK MOUNTAINS.

Saco, had a daughter more beautiful than any maiden of their tribe, and who was accomplished in all the arts known to her people. When she had reached maturity, her parents sought in vain to find a young bfave suitable for her husband, but none could be found worthy of so peerless a creature. Suddenly this wild flower of the mountains disappeared. Diligent was the search, and loud the mourning when no trace of her light moccasin could be found in forest or glade. By her tribe she was given up as lost. But some hunters who had ^penetrated far into the mountain fastnesses, discovered the missing maiden in company with a beautiful youth whose hair, like her own, flowed down to his waist. They were on the border of a limpid stream. On the approach of the intruders, the pair vanished out of sight. The parents of the maiden knew her companion to be one of the pure spirits of the mountains, and henceforth con- sidered him to be their son. To him they called when game was scarce, and when by the streamside they signified their wishes, lo ! the creatures came swimming toward them. So runs our legend, which we have taken, in part, from an early author.

The Pale-Face Captive. — A wandering hunter of the Sokokis tribe had struck the trail of a party of Mohawk warriors who were returning from battle, and learned by occasional footprints found in the brookside sands that a white captive was being carried away. Following at a distance during the day the Sokokis watched the Mohawks camp behind a lofty boulder, and after they had eaten saw them bind the white girl to a tree in a sitting posture and then lie down in their blankets to sleep. Waiting until their fire had burned out, the young hunter cautiously crept behind the tree where the poor maiden was tied, and whispering assurance of safety he quickly cut the thongs from her swollen wrists and led her away. Before the morning dawned, they had covered so great a distance, and had so hidden their trail by wading in the shallow water of streams, that their pursuers did not overtake them and they reached the Indian village at the mouth of the Ossipee unharmed. Here the maiden, then quite a little girl, was treated with kindness and adopted the Indian mode of life. But tradition claims that the Mohawks knew by the broken trail of the Sokokis to what tribe he belonged, and ever after watched for opportunity to wreak vengeance upon them. This pale-faced exile never left the wigwam of the young brave who had rescued her from the bloody Mohawks, and when old and bent with the weight of years, was often seen in company with the " up-river Indians" when going down the Saco in their canoes. She reported that she was an only child and that her parents had both been slain at the time she was taken captive.

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HE best authorities now attribute to our North American aborig- ines an Asiatic origin. In physical appearance, language, and traditions, the western tribes resemble the northeastern Asiatics, while the Eskimo and his cousin on the Asiatic side understand

each other perfectly. The Mongolian cast of features is much more marked in the tribes on the Pacific than in those on the Atlantic coast, while the earliest traditions handed down from time immemorial by the ancient fathers, and held by the chiefs of the eastern tribes, indicate that they came by stages from the westward ; and those of the western tribes, that their remote ancestors came from regions farther west.

When the early explorers came to the mouth of the Saco, they found the valley inhabited by these free-born denizens of our western hemisphere. How long these lords of the soil had held their vast inheritance when the white man came, no writer on the origin of nations, or of the prehistoric period, has attempted to state in terms with any claim to definiteness. A modern author, who has given this subject much attention, believes that the era of their existence as a distinct and insulated race should be dated back to the time when, as related in sacred history, the inhabitants of the world were separated into nations and each branch of the human family received its language and individuality.

One of the most eloquent and statesman-like of the Saco valley chiefs once said in council: "We received our lands from the Great Father of Life ; we hold only from Him." Their right to the soil bequeathed by the Creator none could justly challenge, and in defending their claims against the encroach- ments of the insulting settlers they doubtless felt that they had the sanction of the Great Spirit. It certainly was a remarkable condescension that allowed the intrusive white man, without the shadow of a title, to find a foot-rest upon these shores, and greater wonder, that they were permitted to plant their homes upon the soil.

But they were, in many respects, a noble people who evinced unmistak- able evidence of having descended from a higher state, and still retained a fine sense of honor and great personal dignity. Of majestic form and graceful carriage, the typical son of the forest was an object of interest who challenged the attention of every considerate beholder.

14

THE SOh'OhlS INDIANS.

The Sokokis family was one of the most ancient in what is now the State of Maine, and were quite distinct from those living on the Salmon Falls and I'iscataqua rivers farther westward. Just where the territorial line of division was cannot be determined with certainty. 'I'here is evidence to show that those several tribes recognized a code of laws by which they were governed in their relations to each other. There were, anciently, according to the relations of the chiefs, great councils held in the wilderness in which each family, or tribe, was represented by its delegated head and here the boundary of their territorial possessions and hunting grounds were prescribed, and any disputes arising from questions relating to, trespass amicably adjusted.

From the Saco river eastward all the branches of the great tribal family used the same language with slight variations peculiar to certain localities. All who inhabited this wide expanse of territory between the Saco valley and New Brunswick could readily understand each other ; and yet, with one excep- tion, not a word of their language could be found in Eliot's Indian Bible printed in 1664. Captain Francis, an Indian of the Penobscot tribe, who was not only intelligent but well-informed in all matters relating to the history of the Maine Indians, said the Saco tribe was the parent of all the eastern families; "they are all one brother," the old man used to say. Each tribe was younger as we proceed eastward from Saco river, and those at Passama- quoddy the youngest of all. Francis once said, " Always I could understand these brothers when they speak, but when the Mickmacks, Algonquins, and Canadian Indians speak I cannot tell all what they say." Governor Neptune and members of the Newell family confirmed this statement.

The Sokokis were once so numerous that they could call nine hundred warriors to arms, but wars and pestilence reduced their numbers to a mere handful. Their original principal settlement and the headquarters of their important chiefs was about the lower waters of the river.

The residence of the sagamores was on Indian Island above the lower falls. Among the names of the chiefs who dwelt hereabout were those of Capt. Sunday, the two Heagons, and Squando who succeeded Fluellen. For some years these Indians lived with the white settlers in peace and quietness, some of them acquiring a fair knowledge of the English language by their inter- course. When the increasing number of colonists encroached upon their lands, and hatred and discontent had been engendered by the ill-treatment of the whites, these Indians gradually moved up river and joined their brethren who lived in the villages at Pequawket and on the Ossipee.

We have found no evidence of hostility on the Indians' part until they had been provoked to retaliate by some of the most inexcusable insults that could have been thought of. According to the early historians a party of rude sailors from one of the vessels lying in the harbor hailed the wife of Squando, who, with her infant child, was passing down the river in a canoe. Taking no notice

THE SOKOKIS INDIANS.

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of this she would have peacefully proceeded on her way, but they approached her and maliciously overturned the canoe to see, as afterwards stated, if young Indians could swim naturally like wild animals. The child instantly sank but the mother by diving brought it up alive. This babe soon after died and the parents attributed the fatality to an injury caused by the white men.

This insult and injury so exasperated Squando that he thirsted for revenge, and he determined to exert himself to the uttermost to arouse his followers and the neighboring tribes to arm themselves for a war of extermination against the Avhites. But this was not the only reason why the savages should hate the English settlers. Some of the early speculators who conducted a private busi- ness with the Indians, or had charge of the regular truck-houses along the coast, influenced more by their greed than any principle of honor, just as modern white men have been, by misrepresenting goods bartered for the red man's valuable furs, and by defrauding them when under the influence of liquor, had driven them to desperation. These acts of injustice were not forgotten, and some of the aggressors were made to suffer for their wrongs at the hands of the Indians, when the knife was drawn, as will hereafter appear.

As early as 1615, there were two branches of the Sokokis tribe under the government of two subordinate chiefs. One of these communities was settled on the great bend of the Saco at Pequawket, now in Fryeburg, and the other at the mouth of the Great Ossipee, where, before King Philip's war, they employed English carpenters from the settlements down river to build them a strong timber fort, having stockaded walls fourteen feet in height, to protect them against the blood-thirsty Mohawks whose coming these Indians antici- pated and dreaded. (See the particulars in article on garrisons, etc.)

When the Sokokis removed from the locality of their early home on the lower waters of the river to the interior, their names were changed to Pequawkets and Ossipees ; the former word, meaning the a-ookcd place, expresses exactly the character of the locality where their village stood.

A terribly fatal pestilence, thought to have been the small-pox, which prevailed in 1617 and 1618 among the Indians of this and other tribes, swept them away by thousands, some of the tribes having become extinct from its effects. The dead by hundreds remained unburied, and their bones, scattered through the forest, were found long afterwards by the white men. At a treaty assembled at Sagadahoc in 1702, there were delegates from the Winnesaukes, Ossipees, and Pequawkets. Among those present belonging to this tribe were Watorota-Menton, Heagon, and Adeawando. When the treaty was holden in Portsmouth in 17 13, the Pequawket chiefs were present. Adeawando and Scawesco signed the articles of agreement with a cross at the treaty held at Arowsic on the Kennebec in 17 17. The ranks of the Pequawkets became so thinned out at the time of Lovewell's fight that they could muster but twenty-four warriors. Capt. John Giles, who commanded the fort at the

16 THE S OK OK IS INDIANS.

mouth of the Saco river, and who was well acquainted with the Indian tribes of Maine, took a census of those over sixteen years of age, able to bear arms, in 1726, and reports only twenty-four fighting men. At this time Adeawando was chief.

Many of the tribe had removed to Canada at this time, and had united with the St. Francis Indians there. Adeawando was a man of great intelli- gence, and eloquence as a public speaker, and became very influential in the councils. He became a leading spirit after removing to Canada, where he was a favorite with the Governor General. When Capt. Phineas Stevens visited Quebec in 1752,. to redeem captives from the St. Francis Indians, Adeawando was chief speaker at the conference held there and made strong charges against the English planters on the Saco for their trespass upon the lands of his people. In his address he said: "We acknowledge no other lands as yours but your settlements wherever you have built ; and we will not, under any pretext, consent that you pass beyond them. The lands we call our own have been given us by the Great Master of Life; we hold only from Him."

In the beginning of the war with France, the remnant of the Pequawket tribes who had lingered about the home-place of their ancestors on the Saco, went to some fort occupied by the white men and expressed a desire to live with them. These, with the women and children, were permitted to remain for a considerable time in the fort ; but when war had been declared against the Eastern Indians these families were removed to Boston where they were provided for by the government. A suitable place was found for them some fifty miles from the city where was good fishing and fowling. The state fur- nished them blankets, clothing, and other necessary provisions. Smith writes in his journal: "About twenty Saco Indians are at Boston pretending to live with us."

When the Eastern Indians sued for peace, and promised to summon all the heads of tribes concerned in the war, these Sokokis or Pequawket Indians were present at the treaty (1749) held at Falmouth; but as it was proved that their tribe had not been involved, it was deemed unnecessary for them to sign the treaty. In 1750, a year later, Douglas wrote : "The Pequawket Indians live in two towns and have only about a dozen fighting men. These often travel to Canada by way of the Connecticut river."

After the fall of Quebec, and white men had pushed their settlements up the Saco valley, a few members of the tribe remained about the head waters of the Connecticut until the beginning of the Revolution. The last mention of the tribe living at Pequawket was in a petition to the General Court dated at Fryeburg, in which the able-bodied men asked for guns, ammunition, and blankets, for fourteen warriors, and these became soldiers on the patriot side; they served faithfully under their commander and were liberally rewarded by

THE SOKOKIS INDIANS.

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the government. After the war they came back to Fryeburg and lingered with their famiUes in the vicinity of their old homes where they were well remem- bered by the venerable people of the last generation. Among these were Tom Heagon, Old Philip, and Swanson. Philip, the last known chief of the Pequaw- kets, signed a deed in 1796, conveying northern New Hampshire, and a part of Maine, to Thomas Eames and others.

The curtain of history falls before a sad scene. A popular author has written : " Long and valiantly did they contend for the inheritance received from their ancestors, but fate had decided against them. With unavailing regret these children of the forest looked upon the ruins of their once pleasant homes for the last time, and turned their faces away." From time immemorial the tribe had held undisputed possession of the Saco valley where, upon the rich and mellow intervales, they had harvested their ripened corn. They were brave, great hunters, and ready for war. Before the battle with Lovewell they had been prosperous, and might have survived to multiply their numbers and perpetuate their name, but this conflict convinced them that nothing less than absolute extermination, and the possession of the last acre of their land, would satisfy the avarice of the whites, and, broken in spirit, they scattered the smoking brands of their camp-fire and sadly, silently vanished away.

AN INDIAN BURIAL MOUND.

On the west side of Ossipee lake and south of Lovewell's river, situated upon a beautiful intervale, may be seen a remarkable prehistoric mound which was filled with the skeletons of many thousands of Indians. This elevation was, when first discovered by white men, about twenty-five feet in height^ seventy-five in length, and fifty in width. As the mound had been protected by a wall at the base to prevent washing, the circumference remains about the same. Soon after the Revolution, Daniel Smith, Esq., commenced to clear a farm here, and was probably the first white man who saw the singular mound. When its existence became known great curiosity was excited and hundreds went to view the place. At length two physicians went there for the purpose of procuring some skeletons, if any could be found sufficiently preserved to be of any value. But they found the proprietor of the land averse to this, and he positively refused to have anything removed. After much persuasion he consented to have an excavation made sufficiently large to ascertain the character of the internal structure of the mound ; a work he watchfully superin- tended. It had been supposed that each warrior's pipe, tomahawk, and wampum, had been buried at his side, but so far as has been revealed, only one tomahawk was found. All the bodies were found to be in a sitting position, reclining around a common centre, facing outward. From the appearance of the remains it seemed evident that the bodies were packed hard against each other, leaving

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but little space between them to be filled with earth. Having begun at the middle, when one circle had been filled another was started on the outside of it, and so on until the base tier had reached a sufficient circumference ; then a second tier was begun above it. There is no means of ascertaining how long this mound had been used as a place of interment by the tribe inhabiting that region. Either the tribe must have numbered many thousand at an early day, or their dead had been buried here for thousands of years. Judging from the space occupied by each skeleton, those present when the excavation was made estimated that no less than eight or ten thousand bodies must have been deposited within the mound. The outer covering of the elevation was of coarse sand taken from the plains about one hundred rods distant on the west side of Lovewell's river, and seems to have been about two feet in thickness originally. The stones laid about the base to prevent the mound from being washed down by rains, are round, smooth, and water-worn ; these were carried from the bed of the river and their exact counterpart may be seen there to-day. Here we find a prehistoric problem suggestive of much thought. About it the contemplative mind finds much obscurity. Unanswerable questions will arise. Had the scat- tered families of the great tribe inhabiting the territory adjacent carried their dead through the deep, dark forest pathways for many a weary league to this great tribal tomb ? What tradition of ancestors, superstition, or religious senti- ment, could have impelled these sons of the wilderness to do this? What solemn burial ceremonies attended the mounding of these bodies of their departed kindred as they were deposited in this thickly populated chamber of mortality ? What must have been the emotions of these dusky warriors as they viewed the sepulcher of their fathers ; the place where they, too, must take their position in the silent circle of the dead!

To us there is a weird fascination about this singular burial mound, this voiceless monument of antiquity, and we can only wish some record of its origin, and the number of years it had been used, as definite as that found in the sacred volume concerning the cave of Machpelah purchased by Abraham for a place of burial, had been left. But all our speculations must be unavail- ing and we allow the curtain to fall and hide from the mental view that which must remain a mystery "until the day dawns and the shadows flee away."

INDIAN WIGWAMS AND VILLAGES.

The American aborigines were fine students of nature and were familiar with natural phenomena. When they built their houses they displayed more wisdom than the white man who boasted of superior skill. These wigwams were never erected on land that would be reached by the swelling streams in spring-flood. Some have assumed that the whole community of the Pequawkets lived together in a compact village on the intervale at Fryeburg, but this was

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not true ; these keen warriors had their outposts some distance above and below to guard against surprise. Had Lovewell known the habits of these Indians better, he would not have been drawn into the trap as he was. While the larger body of the Indians lived on the great water-loop, there were clusters of houses in various places down the Saco valley. One of these hamlets was situated just south of Indian Hill in North Conway, and consisted of about twenty lodges. In what is now the town of Hiram, not far from the mouth of the Great Ossipee river, there is a high bluff upon the top of which there is a nearly level plateau of about two acres in extent where several families of the Sokokis Indians once lived, and there the elevated circles, covered annually with rank grass, long marked the places where their wigwams stood.

From the number of stone weapons and implements found in other local- ities on the river, it is evident that there were at some time either villages or solitary lodges there. At the falls where the West Buxton village now stands the Indians of this tribe came at stated seasons to spear salmon with which the Saco then abounded ; and when the first settlers in the upper section of the Little Falls Plantation came there to hew down the forest and populate the town, they found a well-worn trail that followed the river bank to a point near the well-known Decker Landing, and thence turned abruptly westwar'd over the ridge near the present highway, and down across the Thornton lot, so called, thence near the farm afterwards owned bv Cyrus Bean to the foot of the Killick pond, and so on across the plains to the Little Ossipee. On the line of this old trail, and on the Joseph Decker farm, there were many indications of a settlement of Indians when the land was cleared ; subsequently some remarkably fine stone axes, tomahawks, pestles, and arrow-heads were ploughed up. These were accidentally lost by a gentleman to whom they had been presented. Not far from the site of this Indian village one or two bodies were found one hundred years ago.

The Indians constructed their houses with a light frame of poles con- verging at the top, and covered these with bark and skins. Within this circular enclosure men, women, children, dogs, and some small cattle domiciled pro- miscuously. The fires were kindled in the centre against a flat stone that leaned against the middle pole, and the smoke, carried by the draft from the door, emerged at the top of the hut and floated away. Here the cooking was done by the squaws, and here the men, when not on the war-path, or engaged in the chase, dressed the skins of animals for their clothing and packed their peltry for the trading post. Lodges owned and occupied by the chiefs and medicine men were usually larger, more pretentious, and ornamented without with rude figures of wild animals. These were the red man's council rooms and here the wise and grave old fathers sat in a circle and smoked their carved stone pipes and determined the action to be taken by the braves when menaced by the insolent pale-face.

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77//'; SOh'Oh'I.S INDIANS.

INDIAN WEAPONS AND IMPLEMENTS.

Many of these were made from materials that have not decayed, and we have a fair collection of local discovery to aid us in our description. Their stone axes were of various forms and sizes. Nearly all, however, had a deep groove cut below the poll for the handle. It has been supposed, by the farmers along the river who have found these, that the Indians twisted strong withes around them which served for a handle, but this is not the fact. The axes were driven through a small sapling of some firm wood and allowed to remain until it had grown so closely into the groove cut for the purpose that the stone was immovable; then the tree was cut down, and a section worked to the proper size for the handle. If the handle was split, the axe must be driven through another sapling, or was laid aside. A few such have been found, almost overgrown by the wood of large forest trees in which they had been left by the Indians, and for some reason were never afterwards put to use. These axes and hatchets were usually made from a very hard and greenish colored stone, now seldom found in the Saco valley. We have examined specimens that were eight inches in length and nearly four in width at the edge. These had at the top a nearly round poll ; weight about four pounds. We have no means of knowing how these stone axes were dressed into such symmetrical form, save by the tradition related by Captain Francis of the Oldtown tribe. A farmer at whose home he had dined, when returning from a hunting excursion, handed him one of these large stone axes and asked him how it was reduced from the rough piece to its perfect form. The old fellow shrugged his shoulders, laughed, and said: "Dunno; mighty big rub." We could fancy the patient red man slowly hewing this with the still harder flint tool, but when we ask how t/iat was moulded into regular form, we are lost in wonder. The result is good evidence of the possibility, but the process must be catalogued with the "lost arts."

We have seen stone pestles as round and symmetrical as if turned in the cabinet-maker's lathe, three inches in diameter at the larger end and a foot in length; gouges, two inches broad, concaved and convexed, with the edge a perfect segment of the circle, armed with a formidable handle from the same piece of stone. War clubs, spears, and arrows were pointed with scales of flint and bits of hard sea-shell; some of them were wrought into ingenious forms, having a shank, or start, that was driven into the wood of spear shaft, or arrow. We take pleasure in illustrating this chapter with plate views, hav- ing fac-similes of a collection of these Indian weapons and tools that were found on the banks of the Saco river.

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HOSTILITIES ON THE SACO.

At the breaking out of hostilities, the principal settlement was at the mouth of the river. Mills had been put up at the lower falls and a few dwell- ings, and a large house for the mill men employed there. Half a mile below the falls, on the eastern side of the river, stood the fortified dwelling-house of John Bonython. At this time Major William Phillips, a wealthy mill and land owner, had built a more substantial and defensible dwelling, called a garrison-house, upon the opposite side of the Saco, near where the present bridge crosses.

A friendly Indian of the Sokokis tribe came to the home of John Bonython one day and informed him that a party of hostiles had visited his wigwam and were trying to induce his tribe to raise the hatchet against the white set- tlers; that these warriors had gone eastward, but would return in a few days with a large force. This warning prompted about fifty, then in the settlement, to take refuge in the garrison of Major Phillips. Almost as soon as they had taken this wise step, flames were seen arising from the house of John Bony- thon. As Phillips approached a window, to get a view of the burning building, he received a bullet in his shoulder from a savage in ambush near his house. As he quickly withdrew, to avoid a second shot, a large number of Indians who had secreted themselves near, supposing the commander of the garrison had been killed, instantly exposed themselves and with demoniac yells made a determined attack. At the same instant they were fired upon through loop- holes, and by men stationed within the flankers, with such precision of aim that several were wounded, the leader of the party so badly that he died. They continued the siege till nearly morning, but failing to take the garrison by assault they secured a large cart, loaded it with brush, and, shielding them- selves behind the head boards, pushed it toward the house, all aflame. This scheme proved worse than a failure, as will appear. The cart had received a considerable momentum when one of the wheels suddenly fell into a ditch which they attempted to cross, causing it to turn to one side, thus exposing the Indians to the range of those within the stockades. The opportunity was instantly made available and a fatal fire poured into their ranks. Six were killed and fifteen wounded in this engagement, and the remainder became so disheartened by their defeat that they soon withdrew. Finding his supplies of provisions and ammunition nearly gone. Major Phillips and those who had taken shelter in his garrison removed to Winter Harbor. His house, being left unoccupied, was soon reduced to ashes by the Indians. They also destroyed all the houses about the Harbor and carried a Mrs. Hitchcock away captive. She did not return, and the savages reported that she had died from eating poisonous roots which she had supposed to be ground

22

THE SOKOEIS INDIANS.

nuts. About this time five men were killed by Indians on the river bank. Hearing of the defenseless condition of the settlers at Saco, Captain Win- coll of Newichawanock, with a company of sixteen men, proceeded by water around the coast to their assistance. On landing at Winter Harbor they were instantly fired upon by ambushed savages, and several of the party were killed. These Indians then gave the alarm to a larger number, who had tarried in the rear, and WincoU and his handful of brave men were immedi- ately confronted by a hundred and fifty well-armed warriors. Finding himself overpowered by numbers, he took refuge behind a pile of shingle bolts, and from this extemporized breastwork he and his men fought with such despera- tion that the dusky foe was forced to retire with considerable loss. Again in 1689 the savages menaced the settlements at Saco, but no lives are known to have been lost. A short time afterwards, however, four young men, looking for their horses for the purpose of joining some scouts under Captain Wincoll, were killed. A company, consisting of twenty-four men, was raised to search for their bodies, and having discovered the Indians, pursued them into the great heath, but were forced to retire with the loss of six of their number.

Scouting parties employed to range the woods between the Piscataqua and Casco during the summer, restrained the savages from committing serious depredations. Colonel Church had put to death a number of defenseless women and children, and held captive the wives of two chiefs, hoping thereby to effect the release of several white captives. He came by vessel into Winter Harbor. On the following morning smoke was seen arising in the direction of Scamman's garrison. Church sent forward sixty men at once, and pres- ently followed with his whole force. This garrison was about three miles below the falls, on the eastern side of the Saco. When the soldiers approached the burning house they saw the Indians upon the bank on the other side of the river. Three of the number had crossed over, and having discovered the detachment of whites ran to their canoes; but in their haste to recross one of them, who stood up to use his paddle, was shot down and, falling forward, so injured the canoe that it almost instantly sank, and all who were within it perished. The report of muskets so alarmed the remaining savages that they retreated, leaving their canoes upon the river bank. Old Doney, a noted Indian belonging to the Sokokis tribe, was at the falls with a prisoner, Thomas Baker from Scarborough, at* the time, and hearing the firing of guns hastened down the river in a canoe; but on discovering the soldiers put ashore and, springing over Baker's head, joined the other Indians, thus leaving his canoe in possession of him who had been, only a moment before, his prisoner.

Such extensive preparations were made for war in 1693 that the Indians became alarmed and sued for peace; and at the treaty held at Pemaquid the sagamores from nearly every tribe in Maine were present, ready to sign the articles. Robin Doney, and three other leaders who had showed a hostile

THE SOKOEIS INDIANS.

23

attitude the following summer, were seized when visiting the fort at Saco. On the following March two soldiers belonging to the fort fell into the hands of the Indians. One was put to death and the other carried into captivity. These savages were constantly lurking about the settlements, watching from their places of ambush for any opportunity to do mischief. Sargeant Haley carelessly ventured from the fort and was cut off. The following year five soldiers lost their lives in the same way. These discovered the enemy in time to have escaped, but a hurried consultation respecting the best course to take resulted in a disagreement, and being a considerable distance from the fort, their delay proved fatal. They fell into an ambush and were all killed.

In 1697, Lieut. Fletcher and his two sons were captured at Saco. They had gone to Cow Island to guard three soldiers while cutting firewood for the fort, but thinking there were no savages about, wandered away after wild fowl, and fell into a snare. As the Indians were taking these captives down the river in their canoes they were waylaid by Lieut. Larrabee, who was out on a scouting expedition. These scouts opened fire upon the foremost canoe, which contained three Indians, and all were killed. Several were killed in the other canoe and the remainder put ashore on the other side. One of the Fletchers, when all the Indians who were with him had been killed, made his escape.

About this time Humphrey Scamman and his family were carried into captivity. An aged lady, descended from the family, described the occurrence as follows : When Samuel Scamman was about ten years old, as I have often heard him relate, he was sent one day by his mother with a mug of beer to his father and brother who were at work on a piece of marsh near the lower ferry. He had not proceeded far when he saw a number of Indians at a dis- tance and immediately ran back to inform his mother. He regained the house and wished to fasten the doors and windows, but his mother prevented him, telling him that the Indians would certainly kill them if he did. The savages soon entered the house and asked Mrs. Scamman where her "sanup" was, meaning her husband. At first she refused to tell them, and they threatened to carry her off alone, but promised if she would discover where he was to take them together without harm. She then told them. After destroying much of the furniture, breaking many articles on the door-stone, and empty- ing all the feather-beds to secure the sacks, they went away with the prisoners toward the marsh, where they took Mr. Scamman and the other son.

A lad named Robinson had been out after a team and as he was returning discovered the Indians in season to make his escape. Quickly taking off his garters he made a pair of reins and mounting a horse rode to Gray's Point, swam the beast to Cow Island where he left him, and swimming to the oppo- site side of the river, reached the fort in safety. At the time there were only a few old men and women in the fort. The guns were immediately fired to warn

24

THE HOKOKIH INDIANS.

the soldiers belonging there, wlio were at work some distance away. In the meantime the women dressed themselves in men's clothing and were exposed where they could be seen by the Indians, who had come up to the island opposite. This stratagem proved successful. Supposing the fort to be well armed, as they afterwards acknowledged, they did not make the attack which they had meditated, but withdrew with several prisoners besides the Scamman family. These were all restored after being in captivity about one year. On the return of Mr. Scamman he found his house just as it had been left; even the beer mug, which little Samuel had placed on the dresser, was found there, and is still preserved in the family at Saco as a memorial of the dangers and sufferings to which their ancestors were exposed. This is a handsome article of brown ware with the figure and name of King William stamped upon it. The mug is now more than two hundred years old, and we hope it may be preserved with sacred care for many generations to come.

In our resume of the subject we have briefly treated we are led to ask why the inhabitants in the settlements during those times of danger permitted them- selves to be so often ensnared by the savages. Surely the pioneers were not ignorant of their devices. One would readily assume that the cunning of the Indian could have been circumvented, and all his peculiar arts of warfare countervailed, by the fine intelligence and trained judgment of the English planters. Why, then, when it might be reasonably supposed that the foe was patiently waiting in his ambush for an opportunity to send the whizzing bullet on its errand of death, such foolhardy contempt of danger, and resultant expos- ure, upon the part of the young men who were so much needed for the protection of the aged and infirm.'' Shall we conclude that the mind had become so used to the anticipation of the contingency of warfare that the settlers valued life less than it was worth ? Whatever the causes that obtained, the results were too often fatal.

From a more considerate view of the times when these scenes were wit- nessed, we shall take into account the wearing restraint of confinement for those robust men, who had been enured to active exercise and pure air, when shut up within the narrow walls of the block-house or garrisoned dwelling; where a dozen families, consisting of men, women, and children, were herded together in close quarters, breathing vitiated air and chafing for their freedom. * And this condition of aft'airs was not limited to a day or week, but often extended to several months. It should also be remembered that provisions must be pro- cured for the maintenance of these scores of persons, and ammunition for their defense. And sometimes, after weary watching for days and weeks, with no sign of an Indian in the neighborhood, hope would rise triumphant in these human breasts and they would emerge from their confinement to procure food and fuel. We suppose these early settlers did the best they could.

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NTRODUCTORY.— Our grandfathers have related this old fireside story with much animation and circumstantiality. It has been handed down to us upon the historic page attended with many inconsistent, and some contradictory, statements. We have not found one published account of the march, battle, and retreat that would stand the first shock of intelligent criticism. Successive authors have fol- lowed the beaten track; if they discovered inharmonies, and encountered insuperable difficulties, they have been content to repeat the same unreason- able statements formulated by their predecessors without criticism or com- ment. Some writers have ignored geography; others, the cardinal points.

The tradition about John Chamberlain and Chief Paugus is unfounded and was not invented for half a century after the battle. But it has been repeated in song and story. I have personally examined four long muskets of French make said to have been the identical guns with which Chamberlain bored the savage's head. Each of these guns had a history, and their owner- ship could be traced to the original Indian-killer. It was Seth Wyman who shot Paugus, and the Chamberlain tradition, formulated when there were no survivors of the battle to contradict it, may as well be exploded. In my treatment of this subject I shall follow the same beaten track of those who have produced the most comprehensive account of the adventure, and present such criticism and comment as may seem pertinent, as I proceed, in foot-notes.

The following petition was copied from the original document in the office of the Secretary of State in Boston, and speaks for itself :

"The humble memorial of John Lovewell, Josiah Farwell, and Jonathan Robbins, all of Dunstable, sheweth :

That your petitioners, with near forty or fifty others, are inclined to range and keep out in the woods for several months together, in order to kill and destroy their enemy Indians, provided they can meet incouragement suitable. And your petitioners are Imployed and desired by many others Humbly to propose and submit to your Honors consideration, that if such soldiers may be allowed five shillings per day, in case they kill any enemy Indian, and pos- sess his scalp, they will Imploy themselves in Indian hunting one whole year;

2G

rilE PEQUAWKET EXPEDITION.

and if within that time they do not kill any, they are content to be allowed

nothing for their wages, time, and trouble. John Lovewell,

JosiAH Farwell, Dunstable, Nov., 1724. Jonathan Robbins."

This petition was granted, but the compensation was changed to a bounty of one hundred pounds for every Indian scalp. It was a cold-blooded preparation for the commission of wholesale murder, but with such financial inducements held out by the government Lovewell found plenty of volunteers ready to rally about his standard and to embark in the hazardous undertaking. After two successful initiatory experiments at Indian killing, "just to get his hand in," which were rewarded with eleven hundred pounds for scalps, he and his comrades in arms found the business "paid," and enlarged the scope of their operations. Having heard that the Sokokis had a settlement at Pequawket, on the upper reaches of the Saco river. Captain Lovewell devised the scheme of an attack upon them in their village. Undoubtedly he under- estimated the dangers and hardships of the expedition. It was one hundred and thirty miles to the Pequawket settlement, through a pathless wilderness, in a section of the country with which the party was unfamiliar.*

On April i6th the company bade farewell to their friends and kindred, left Salmon brook, and took up their line of march for Pequawket. The company, led by Captain Lovewell, consisted of forty-six men. When they had reached Contoocook, William Cummings became disabled from an old wound and was permitted to return, with a kinsman to assist him. They then proceeded to the west shore of Ossipee lake, where Benjamin Kidder fell sick. Here Captain Lovewell called a halt and built a fort, having the lake

*From Lovewell's journal we learn that he had made a journey to the Pequawket country the year previous (1724), and going from tlie easterly part of the White Mountains had encamped upon a branch of the Saco river. On the 18th February he traveled twenty miles and encamped at a great pond upon Saco river. (Walkers pond?) If Lovewell reached Pequawket in the fol- lowing year (1725), in which the battle occurred, by tliis route on the west side of Winnepiseogee, thence to Ossipee pond, he went by a circuitous course much farther than was necessary. It is only about eighty miles on an air line from Dunstable to Fryeburg on a N. by N. E. course.

Note.— Did he actually build any fort here? Some time between 1G50 and IGGO the Sokokis Indians apprehended an invasion by the Mohawks, and employed English workmen to build two extensive stockaded forts, fourteen feet in height. One of these was for the protection of that branch of the tribe settled on Ossipee lake, and the other at the junction of the Great Ossi- pee river with the Saco, below the present village of Cornish. The first-mentioned was on the south side of Lovewell's river, near Ossipee lake. It was said to have enclosed nearly an acre of ground. The Indians occupied this structure until hostilities between them and the whites commenced. In 1C7G this was demolished by English soldiers under Captain Hawthorn. The site was subsequently occupied by Massachusetts and New Hampshire troops. Tradition makes the fort built by Lovewell's party, in 1725, stand on the same plot. In an extensive meadow of about two hundred acres may still be seen the remains of a stockade of considerable dimen- sions. It fronted the lake. The trench in which the stockades were set may still be traced around the whole enclosure. This ruin is situated upon a ridge that extends from Lovewell's river southerly. At the north and south ends of the fort considerable excavations are visible. Tliey may have been cellars for storing food. That on the north is much the larger and extends nearly to the river, and by it water was probably procured for those within the fort.

THE PEQUAWKET EXPEDITION.

27

shore in front to the east and the river on the north side. This was designed for a place of refuge and a base of supplies. Leaving a sick man, the surgeon, and a guard of eight, Lovewell boldly took up his march with the remaining thirty-four from Ossipee lake to Pequawket, a distance of nearly forty miles.

On Tuesday, two days before the battle, the party were suspicious that the enemy had discovered them, and on Friday night the guard heard them creeping through the under-brush about their encampment. At an early hour Saturday morning, the 8th of May, while they were at their devotions, the report of a gun was heard, and soon after an Indian was discovered standing upon a point of land extending into Saco pond. Those acquainted with the stratagems of the savages supposed this lone Indian was a decoy stationed there to draw them into an ambush. This was a mistaken inference and re- sulted in a terrible fatality to Lovewell's men. A conference was immedi- ately called to determine what course to pursue. Should they take the risk of an engagement or beat a hasty retreat ? The men answered that they had prayed all the way that they might find the enemy and they had rather trust Providence with their lives than return without meeting them and be called cowards for their conduct.

Captain I ovewell seems to have advised to the contrary, but assented to the wishes of his men. Assuming that the foe was still in front, he ordered the men to lay "down their packs that they might advance with greater caution and act with unimpeded readiness. When the party had proceeded slowly for about one mile they discovered an Indian approaching amongst the trees, and as he drew near where they had concealed themselves, several discharged their pieces at him. He returned the fire and seriously wounded Captain Lovewell with a load of buckshot. Ensign Wyman then shot the Indian dead and Chaplain Frye scalped him.

During all this time the crafty Paugus and his eighty braves had been in the rear watching every movement of Lovewell's men ; he had discovered the hidden packs and by counting them learned the whites were outnumbered by his own warriors two to one. When Lovewell's company returned to secure their provisions and had reached a tract of land covered with pines a little way back from the pond, the Indians rose from their ambush in their front and rear in two parties with guns aimed ; the whites also presented their guns and advanced to meet the foe.

Approaching within twenty yards of each other both parties fired. The Indians were badly cut to pieces and took shelter in a clump of low-growing pines where they could scarcely be seen ; this was the Indian's method of war- fare and placed the whites at a disadvantage ; their shots made terrible havoc among them. Already nine of their number, nearly one-third of their party, had fallen dead, and three were fatally wounded. Numbered among the dead were Captain Lovewell and Ensign Harwood, while Lieutenants Farwell and

28

77/ a; l'I<:ql!A WKF/r I'LVI'KDITION.

Robbins were wounded beyond hope of recovery. Ensign Wyman ordered the remaining soldiers to retreat to the pond, where, Ijeing ])rotected in the rear, they were saved from utter annihilation.

Until the going down of the sun the battle went on with desperation. The savages behind trees howled, yelled, and .barked like dogs, while the whites made the woods ring with their lusty huzzahs. Some of the Indians held up ropes and asked Lovewell's soldiers if they would have quarter, but they bravely replied "only at the muzzle of your guns."

About the middle of the afternoon Chaplain Frye fell, seriously wounded. He had fought bravely through the hottest of the battle. After falling, he was heard to pray for the preservation of his comrades. For eight hours the fight had continued and at times was vehement. The whites were obliged to adopt the Indian mode of warfare ; they kept near together but each selected such a position as would best secure his own safety and admit of reaching any of the enemy who might be exposed within range. There were intervals of a half hour when scarcely a shot was fired ; during such lulls in the battle the savages took advantage of the time to seek for better positions by crawl- ing and skulking about under cover of the thick under-brush. At the same time the soldiers were vigilant to seize upon any chance to ,|end a bullet on its errand of death. While the savages seemed to be l^olding a council. Ensign Wyman crept up behind some bushes, and by careful, aim shot their leader. Thus died Paugus without washing his gun by the pond-side.

When darkness fell the Indians withdrew, and, contrary to their custom, left their dead upon the battle ground. According to the census of the Indians taken by Captain Giles, the next year, only twenty-four fighting men were left of the Pequawket tribe after this battle. Some of these survivors carried serious wounds received in the fight.*

When the moon arose about midnight, the survivors of Lovewell's party assembled, faint, exhausted, and wounded, and considered their situation. Jacob Farrar was found to be dying; Lieutenants Robbins and Robert Usher unable to rise ; four others dangerously wounded ; seven seriously wounded^ and but nine unhurt. Not knowing the number of the Indians who might come to renew the battle in the morning, the soldiers decided to start for the fort. Being unable to leave the spot where he had fallen, Lieutenant Robbins requested his companions to load his gun, saying "the Indians will come to scalp me in the morning and I will kill one more if I can." Solomon Keyes could not be found. When he became so weak from three wounds that he could no longer stand, he crawled to Ensign Wyman and said : " I am a dead man, but if possible I will get out of the way so the Indians shall not have

*In Walter Bryant's .iournal kept when riuining the line between Maine and New Hamp- shire, in 1741, he mentions an old Pequawket Indian, named Sentur, who came to his camp; lie had been wounded and lost an eye in the Lovewell tight.

THE PEQUAWKET EXPEDITION.

29

my scalp." Creeping down to the lake shore where grew some rushes, he found a canoe into which he managed to climb, and was wafted by a gentle north wind three miles southward and stranded on the beach nearest the fort*

Recovering strength, he worked his way to the fort and joined his com- panions. The dead were left where they fell and the weary, exhausted, and nearly famished men started on their return to their fort before the dawn of day. In all the annals of war we can scarcely find the record of a trans- action attended with such distressing circumstances as we find here. The prospect of the able-bodied survivors was prophetic of danger and terrible suffering from fatigue and hunger, but what can we say of those wounded, bleeding, dying comrades who had fallen in the battle ? Weak and faint from fasting and loss of blood, they must be forsaken and left in the midst of the wilderness, exposed to dire vengeance from the Indians or to die alone far from any of their kindred. We can scarcely bring our minds to realize that this is no picture of the imagination, or that such things actually occurred. What must have been their thoughts when facing the grim messenger alone in the solitudes of the deep, dark forest ! There was no medicinal cordial for their painful wounds, no soothing draught for their parched lips. With antici- pation of the mutilating scalping knife, and feasting wild beasts, they closed their eyes and gave up the ghost.

When the returning survivors had gone something more than a mile, four of the wounded — Lieutenant Farwell, Chaplain Frye, and Privates Jones and Davis — could no longer move forward, and importuned their comrades to push toward their stockade and secure a rescuing party to carry them in. Thus these four were left to their fate, and when the men hastened to the fort, where they had expected to find the eight who had been left as a guard, to their consternation they found the place deserted and nearly all of the pro- vision gone. It was subsequently learned that a cowardly soldier, in the early part of the battle at Pequawket, frightened at the slaughter, had deserted his company and hastened back to the fort, where he gave such a discouraging account of the fight that all joined him in his flight. Here was another try- ing experience for the nine soldiers. They had left their wounded comrades cheered in their distress by the expectation of succor, and now to abandon them to suspense and starvation was a most cruel and melancholy action. But there was no other alternative. To go back was to meet death without saving their comrades by the sacrifice, and they decided to press forward. Their sufferings from hunger and fatigue were terrible. For four days they did not taste food ; after that some partridges and squirrels were brought down

*After an examination of the maps to find the air-line between Ossipee pond and the spot designated as the Pequawket battle ground, the story of Solomon Keyes appears irreconcilable with statements about the location of the fort. How could Keyes be carried by a northerly wind some miles (Goodale) southward toward a fort at Ossipee pond? Some writers have sup- posed that Keyes made his way to the Indian fort on the Saco at the mouth of the Great Ossipee.

30

THE FEqUAWKET EXPEDITION.

and roasted, which greatly sustained them during the remainder of their jour- ney. They succeeded in reaching Dunstable, the major part, on May 13th, the others two days afterwards.

Two of the wounded who had been left near the scene of the battle, Eleazer Davis and Josiah Jones, survived, and by almost superhuman efforts reached Berwick.* They reported that after waiting for several days (how did they obtain sustenance?), hoping for relief from the fort at Ossipee, they all pro- ceeded slowly several miles. Then poor Chaplain Frye laid down and probably survived but a few hours. Lieutenant Farwell held out until they had almost reached the fort, but sank down and was not afterwards heard from.

The news of the disastrous termination of this expedition was productive of wide-spread grief at Dunstable, and other localities from which the volun- teers had come to join Lovewell's company. A party was immediately dis- patched to the battle ground and the bodies of the captain and ten of his men were buried at the foot of an ancient pine. A monument has since been erected to mark the spot. The General Court appropriated fifteen hundred pounds to the widows and orphans, and a liberal bounty of lands to the sur- vivors.

This may be properly called "Lovewell's Defeat." He and his company had been impelled to their hazardous undertaking by a mercenary, rather than a patriotic, motive. They hated the Indians for their cruelty and yet proposed to practise the same atrocities. Scalps were the prizes sought for, and the religious and prayerful Chaplain Frye vied with his comrades in scalping the first of the savages who had fallen. They found " Indian hunt- ing" was dangerous business, and also the statement true, that "they who take the sword shall perish by the sword." Their campaign plan was to surprise Paugus in his village at Pequawket and to butcher defenseless women and children for their scalps. In this they were disappointed. Providence, in whom Lovewell's brave men trusted, did not protect them in their murderous designs when attempting to dispossess and exterminate those to whom the soil had been given. Paugus is said to have been down the Saco with eighty of his warriors, and when returning by the old Indian trail struck the tracks of the invading party. Hon. John H. Goodale says, in the history of Nashua : " For forty hours they stealthily followed f and saw the soldiers dispose of

* There was a tradition held by the early settlers on the Saco that Lovewell's party came through Berwick, Sanford, Waterborough, and Hollis to the Killick brook, back of the William West place, where they crossed and encamped by a cool fountain of water, afterwards pointed out by the pioneers and called " Lovewell's spring." By this route he would have struck the Saco somewhere about Bonnie Eagle Falls, and Paugus on his return to Pequawket would have found their tracks. I do not think this theory can be correct, as there are official documents that prove, beyond reasonable doubt, that Lovewell built a stockade at Ossipee lake, to which a part of the survivors made their way after the battle.

t How could Paugus and his eighty warriors stealthily follow Lovewell's party for " forty hours " when returning from a trip down the Saco, unless that party struck the old Indian trail

THE PEQUAWKET EXPEDITION.

31

their packs, so that all the provisions and blankets fell into their hands, with the knowledge of their small force."

Thus ended the Pequawket expedition. It was a source of rejoicing that the courage of the brave Sokokis had been crushed; that their numbers had been so reduced that there would be little trouble in dispossessing the remnant of their lands. The spot where this wilderness battle was fought, one hun- dred and seventy years ago, has been visited by thousands, and the tragic event has been commemorated in story and song at the firesides of the Saco valley from the mountains to the sea.

In the earth's verdant bosom, still, crumbling, and cold, Sleep the soldiers who mingled in battle of old ; They rushed to the slaughter, they struggled and fell. And the clarion of glory was heard as tlieir knell.

Those brave men have long been unconscious and dead ;

The pines murmur sadly above their green bed.

And the owl and the raven chant loudly and drear.

When the moonbeams o'er Love well's pond shine on their bier.

The light of the sun has just sunk in the wave. Oh ! in billows of blood sat the sun of the brave ; The waters complain as they roll o'er the stones, And the rank grass encircles a few scattered bones.

The eye that was sparkling no longer is bright, The arm of the mighty, death conquered its might ; The bosoms that once for their country beat high, To those bosoms the sods of the valley are nigh.

The shout of the hunter is loud on the hills,

And sounds softly echo o'er forest and rill,

But the jangling of arms shall be heard of no more

Where the heroes of Lovewell's pond slumber in gore.

that followed the course of that river as far south as the outlet of Great Ossipee at Cornish? If Lovewell's party went by the direct route from Ossipse pond to Pequawket, Paugus would not have touched his trail until near the spot where the battle was fought. It seems probalile that Lovewell's company followed down the valley of the Great Ossipee on the old Indian trail to the fording place near the junction of that river with the Saco, and from that point went due north to Pequawket. In coming up the Saco from below, Paugus and his men would cross the Great Ossipee at the same place and thus strike the tracks of Lovewell's party.

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URING the Indian wars various Icinds of fortifications were built by the settlers along the Saco river. Some of these were put up by individuals for the better protection of their own families, and others were built by authority of the Provincial Government and paid for from appropriations voted "for the defense of the frontier." When the Indians threatened the settlement along the coast the people importuned the Great and General Court for funds to erect forts and block-houses.* These were to be built of stockades, or square timber, in such places as would best accommodate the inhabitants in each settlement, and at such distances from each other as would be most convenient for accommodation of such scouts as might be employed in ranging the woods, and such forces as, in case of war, might be sent out for the annoyance of the enemy in any of their settlements. The commissioners appointed in 1747 by Governor Shirley to have charge of establishing these frontier defenses, "must take care to purchase the materials and agree with the workmen in the best and clearest manner."

In 1693, a very strong stone fort was built on the river bank at Saco Falls, where the Waterpower Machine Company's works now stand, and remains of the structure were removed when the grading for this plant was in progress in 1840. This fortification was built by Captain Hill and Major Hook, under direction of Major Converse, the noted Indian fighter. The existence of so strong a place of refuge was a great guarantee for the safety of the inhabitants, but from imprudence and reckless exposure outside the walls several were cut off. The soldiers stationed at the stone fort were under the command of Capt. George Turfrey and Lieut. Pendleton Fletcher. We have a record of fourteen persons who lost their lives, or were captured, while venturing away from the fort. The Indians could not subdue the forces kept stationed there by direct attack, but lurked about in the adjacent woodlands, watching every movement of the soldiers and settlers who lived there, ready to intercept them or shoot them down when they ventured outside. Soldiers were stationed in

*Block-houses were not thus named because built of timbers, but from blocks of wood fitted to the tray-shaped loop-holes in the stockades and flankers for the use of muskets. One such block was supplied for each opening in the timber walls; had a long wooden handle, and was connected with the stockade by a piece of cord. Wliile the men within were loading their pieces the block was thrust into the loopliole; when ready to fire, it was removed and allowed to hang within easy reach. •

GARRISONS, BLOCK-HOUSES, FORTS.

33

the stone fort until 1708, when they were removed down river to the new fort built at Winter Harbor, the remains of which are visible on the point at the entrance to the Pool, called Fort Hill. The General Court voted an appro- priation of three hundred pounds for the erection of this structure which was built under the supervision of Capt. Lewis Bane and Maj. Joseph Hammond. This sum was found insufficient, and in 17 10 an additional ^100 was granted for its completion. It was named Fort Mary, and became a noted landmark on the coast. A garrison had been built at the Harbor long before this, but had been taken by the Indians, an event which, no doubt, stimulated the inhab- itants to ask assistance from the government to build Fort Mary, which was evidently a place of considerable strength for the times. A supply of snow-shoes and moccasins were voted for the use of those stationed there.

In 1723, when hostilities were again threatened, the forts and garrisons were supplied with men, ammunition, and provisions. At this time Captain Ward was in command at Fort Mary. There were fourteen garrisons between Saco Falls and the mouth of the river, many of them dwelling-houses protected by stockades. The localities where some of these stood are still pointed out. Scamman's garrison was about three miles below the falls; Captain Sharp's garrison was at Rendezvous Point; here four men were stationed. Hill's garri- son on Ferry Lane was allowed three men. The garrisons of Dyer and Tarbox were at the Pool ; here three and four men, respectively, were stationed. Five men were placed in Richard Stimpson's garrison, four at Stackpole's, and four at Saco Falls in the garrison of John Brown. The same year a sergeant and fifteen men were stationed in garrisons about the falls. Major Phillips had a strong fortified house below the falls, where he was wounded in the shoulder as he exposed himself at a window in the loft. Magnus Redland did not settle in Saco until 1729—30, but his house on Rendezvous Point was garrisoned.

Some of the structures called forts were simple stockades built of hewed timber entrenched in the ground and rising from ten to fourteen feet. These enclosed an area of sufficient extent for the erection of a strong interior building, called a block-house, with over-jutting second story, for the soldiers' quarters and the stores. Sometimes the settlers who owned land in the immediate vicinity erected small cabins within the stockade for occupancy when compelled to resort thither in time of danger. Others built their dwellings near at hand on the outside so they could, in case of attack, quickly remove their families within the fort.

Great suffering was often occasioned during the Indian troubles to the inhabitants on the Saco river by being crowded into these enclosures promis- cuously, on scanty food, where they were obliged to remain for weeks together before they could safely venture back to their own houses or were conveyed by vessels to settlements westward.

During the summer and autumn it became necessary for the settlers to go

34

(,'A inasoNS, iiij>(;i\-ii()iish:s, foiits.

forth for the cultivation of their ground, and at times they were scattered about tlie |)lantati()n and in tlie woodland borders tlicrcof ; always with iiniskct shni}^ to their shoulder by leathern straj), or standing near their place of employment. When no savages were known to be in the neighb(jrhood, the women went down to the river-side to wash their clothing, while their daugiUers strayed about the clearings, gathering berries and wild tlowers.

When an alarm was given by the firing of a gun, all ran for the garrison or fort. At one time two girls at Saco ferry had been down the river bank, and had wandered a considerable distance from the garrison, when noises were heard about the woods sounding like blue jays; but the quick ears of the vigilant planters detected in these sounds the signals of the Indians, and they hastened toward the block-house, where a gun was fired and the gate held ajar for the absent daughters, who were seen in the distance, running with desperation toward the place. What was their horror when one, looking from a flanker, reported that two Indians were running across the clearing to cut off the two girls ! They were beyond musket range, and those at the garrison seemed helpless when they would have rendered assistance to their children. But the girls had the advantage, and when the savages saw that they could not capture them they sent their leaden missiles after them. Although neither was harmed, one of the bullets went through the skirt of one's gown, and a piece of the fabric, handed down through the generations that have succeeded, pierced by the red man's lead, has been seen by the author.

One of the most extensive and substantial fortresses built on the Saco river, and which became a place of considerable note, was the truck-house, originally so called, established in the Plantation of Little Falls, now in Dayton, which was built — so says history — for a trading post from which to supply the Indians with such English goods as they required, at a reasonable price, in exchange for their peltry, in time of peace. The house was built by direction of the General Court in 1730. When danger was imminent the establishment was enlarged and fortified. The principal building was sur- rounded by a high timber wall, with flankers at the corners which commanded all sides of the stockading. Sufficient space was left within for a parade ground and a building for the stores. This stood on the river bank, on the old Bane farm, below Union Falls and near an ancient burial ground. It was at first garrisoned with ten men. In 1744, thirteen men were stationed here, and after the declaration of war between France and England the force was increased to twenty. In the upper story of the block-house within the stock- ade, which was the wooden castle's "dungeon keep," several small cannon were mounted. These were sufficiently elevated to sweep the surrounding country, over the walls of the palisading, and the waters of the river eastward. There is no recorded account of an attempt upon the part of the savages to take this

GABRISONS, BLOCK-HOUSES, FORTS.

35

primitive stronghold of the Saco valley. They were frequently seen in the vicinity, and when the neighboring planters, nearly all of whom had settled near the fort, were safe within the walls, one of the cannon was fired off and the lurking red men would betake themselves to their distant retreats. After the peace, some of the Indians going down the river in a canoe visited a shingle camp on the bank and asked the workmen about the "thunder-guns" down the stream.

This fortification was built under the supervision of Capt. Thomas Smith, father of Rev. Thomas Smith, the first minister of Falmouth, now Portland, who was the first commander. The following account, rendered to the Gen- eral Court for building and repairing the "truck-house" on Saco river is so curious that, although long, we give space to it. It speaks for itself.

Province of Massachusetts to Thomas Smith Dr. ii39C't 9

Built a ) For sundry men he employed in working and cash he expended in Parade 19 > building or finishing the Truck-house by order of the Honab^'' foot & 25 ) General Court, on Saco river, as follows:

* — s — d.

To cash pd W^m Tyler for nails locks bolts & Co. as pr perticular accot 1

there of _ ^ 29 : 2 : o.

To ditto pd Wm Wheeler for lime as pr said accot . . . 5:3:6.

To Ditto pd Wm Peek for casements g:lazing & Co. as per his accot 8 : 15 : 2.

To Ditto pd John Anthony & Elisha Snow for work by them don as per ( , .

their accot j 15 • ■ o.

To cash pd Samuel Rounds for work don there as per his accot . 13:8:6. To cash pd Thomas Killpatrick for his son Josephs working there as per 1 j .

his accot | . 12 . o.

To cash pd John Bryant for 8 M of shingles dd at the Truck house 8 : o : o.

To cash pd Wm Dyer for his son John's working there as pr his accot i : 12:0. To Ditto pd Daniel Smith himself and team drawing timber & Co. as \

per his accot . . . . . . . . . . . j- 4 . o . o.

To Ditto pd Joseph Favor for working ten days as per his accot (i- 6 | - "I

per day . . . . . . . . . . . . | 3 ■ o • 3-

To cash pd Nathanl Dairell for 14 days work in making brick @' 7 I ~\ . c

per day (■S-i--

To Daniel Chevers for working 64 days as per his accot (iv, 6 \ - per day )

& subsistance . . . . . . . . . . j '9 ■ 7 ■ o-

To Nathl Favor for working 7J}4 days at 6 | - per day & his subsistance ^

as per accot j- 2 1 . 9 . o.

To John Robbins for working there Co as per his accot . 21:17:8. To cash pd Abial Goodwin and man for carrying up the chimneys, mak- )

ing a new one & Co. as per his accot j 5 • o . o.

To 6 men, soldiers working as follows —

Joseph Lewis 46 days .......

William Gibbs 56 days .......

Jno. Barrows 36 days .......

William Brown 32 days

William Hughes 14 days .......

John Morin 46 days ........

in the whole 231 Ojj 2 \ - per day ....... 23 :

To cash pd Benj Joy as per his accot for enlarging of hinges and making \

nails ( °

To Benj Haley as per his accot for boards & work himself and others &Co. 72 To cash pd John Snow for hay for the cattle while drawing ye timber, ")

Bricks & Co I

36

fV/l IIHISONS, lUJXJK-IIOUSKS, FOItTH.

To John Howard for i gall Linseed Oyle, lo of ground priming i II* |

red Led |- i : 17 : 4-

To 4>^ galls Rum at 5 | - 10 : 6 : 3.

To 10 II) sugar ('<) 1 1 d per Hi 9:0:2.

To K^yi ll's cheese Oo, 12 d per II) . . . . . . . 0:19:3.

To I bushl Indian meal T") 7 | - . . . . . . . 0:7:0.

To horse hire to Arundel, Wells 2 times, Winter Harbor 5 times, Scar- )

borough and Falmouth about getting workmen and expences travel- r 6 : 5:6.

ling it Co ... j

To sundry hinges, nails, axes locks latches, priming & Co, as per perticu- )

lar accot |32 : 12 : 5.

Boston Septr 28th 1730 ^^313 : 10 : 6.

Errors Exqepd per Thomas Smith,

Middlesex SS Camb — Sept. 29, 1730.

The above named Capt. Thomas Smith personally appeared and made oath that the within and above accompt is just and true.

Before Samuel Danfokth Jus. Pasis.

( Province Massachusetts Bay to charges in Building a house for the Dr Indians* of 32 feet long & 16 wide, adjacent to the Truck House ( on Saco River-

-viz :

1735 To 2 M Boards at ^3 per M To 6j4 M shingles at 25 | - To2Miod&7M4d nails by Sher-

borns accept ..... To Benjamin Healey 7 days and ^ work

done at 8 I -

To Benjamin Nicholas 3 days work at 3 | - To William Buzzell 8 days work and )4

at 3 I -

To Abram Johnson 8 yi days work

at 3 I -

To Uriah Gates 6 }4 days work at 3 | -

/6

7 : 4

2

9

5:6

5 : 6 19 : 6

By cash received of Jere Allen Esq Treasurer * Co ^30: Ballance due to Thomas Smith carried to ye Dr. of ye new accopt

/i : 14 : 4

/31 : 14 : 4-

AccT OF Disbursements for ye Garrison and Truckhouse on Saco

River November 1736.

Province of Massachusetts Bay to Tho7nas Smith Dr.

To 1563 feet of boards for a floor for the corn and meal room, a shed to cover the smiths bellows and cole house, and a shed for washing in,

at /'3 : 10 : o per thousand £6

To 2000 Shingles used in covering ye foresaid sheds © 25 | - per M. £2 To cash pd Caleb Young for working about ye chimneys, hearths and

ovens, pointing &Co. 5 days at 10 | - per day . . . . £2 To Caleb Young at my table 18 meals and drink between meals . £ i To several men in doing the carpenters work on above floor and sheds and assisting & tending the mason in his work — altogether 57 days

work at 3 I - per day ^8

To sundry charges for wooding ye Garrison from Oct 1735, to Septr 1736 — ^24

3 10

10 7

II

16

Sworn to by Capt. Thomas Smith and allowed.

4-

£50 : II : 6.

*This building was probably erected for the accommodation of the "remnant of the Pequawkets," who went to some fort occupied by white men and expressed a desire to live with them. They were afterwards sent to Boston.

GARRISONS, BLOCK-HOUSES, FORTS.

37

Notwithstanding the short interval between the building of the truck-house and the extensive repairs or additions made by Captain Smith, yet as early as 1748 Capt. Thomas Bradbury petitioned the General Court for liberty to repair the establishment. He describes the condition of the structure and its appur- tenances as follows: "The side of s'' Blockhouse fronting on the River is in great danger of being undermined by s'' River without a wharf to prevent the same. And the side of the Blockhouse wants to be new Pallasaded. The roof of ye house wants shingling and other repairs to keep the men dry in their lodgings, as also to secure the Provissions & Amunition. Likewise newsilling. There also wants a new boat, as also one to be repaired, to carry up the pro- vissions and other stores." The General Court allowed ten shillings to build a wharf, twenty pounds for palisading, shingling, and repairing the house, and seventeen pounds ten shillings to build a boat for the purpose mentioned.

The first commander. Captain Smith, seems to have held the position until his death, in 1742. In the memoir of the minister it is said : " My father died at Saco, Feb. 19, 1742. He was engaged there as Indian agent, or truck- master, and had been in the service of the government in connection with Indian affairs in the state." He probably died, like the "faithful sentinel," at his post in the block-house, where he had lived for about twelve years. The Rev. Ammi R. Cutter succeeded to the command in 1743. He was fol- lowed by Capt. Daniel Smith, of Biddeford, who soon transferred the place to Capt. Thomas Bradbury, who is said to have been in command during the last Indian war. He was there in 1748, and must have been succeeded by Capt. Jonathan Bane, of York, soon after, for it is related that the soldiers were disbanded in 1759, and the cannon removed to Fort Castle William in Boston Harbor. A son of Captain Bane was lieutenant of a company sta- tioned here. The Bane family settled on the land about the block-house and held custody of the enormous iron key, which was in the hands of a descend- ant not many years ago. This impressive symbol of authority was wrought by some early smith, probably by Joseph Tyler, for he it was who furnished the locks for the truck-house.

This froritier fortress long remained upon the river bank to remind the passing traveler of the times when safety was only secured by vigilance, and of the trying experiences through which the early settlers passed to hold pos- session of the lands on which their descendants, in peace and quietness, but with much complaining, have lived and gathered their harvests. The building gradually fell into decay, its heavy timbers were separated by the intervale frosts of many winters, and at length the ruins were removed and nothing left to mark the spot but the cellar and some old graves near by.

The evidence at hand goes to prove that there were no less than three garrisons or forts in what is now Buxton. Governor Shirley ordered the com- missioners appointed by the General Court for that purpose, Nov. 30, 1743,

c/yi lunsoNs, iiL<)(,'i<-if()irsjis, F(}irr,s.

forthwith to repair to the County of York and take effectual care that a garrison he erected in "Newbury Narragansett." Under this order the first fortifica- tion in tlie townsliip was Iniilt that year. In i 744, a meeting of the proprietors was called to see if they would "clear round the garrison" according to the order of the General Court's committee. This was a log block-house, sur- rounded by a timber stockade like nearly all of the frontier defenses. ■ It was built at Salmon Falls, upon land reserved for public use, near the log meeting- house and probably because the settlers at the time were living near.

At a meeting of the proprietors of Narragansett, No. i, held in 1750, a committee was chosen, to petition the General Court for liberty to remove the fort in consequence of inability to get water where it then stood. Upon the high ground at Salmon Falls, where this fort stood, wells could not be sunk without blasting through the granite ledge there, and the inhabitants were unwilling to assume the expense of such an uncertain experiment. But a well of good water was an important requirement within the walls of such a place of refuge, in case the settlers should be compelled to remain there during an Indian siege.

The proprietors requested their clerk to call a meeting in 1754, to see if a vote would be taken to build a fort at or near the "Broad Turn." Also, to see if the proprietors would find men to help keep the same in case of war, which was then much looked for. In the petition it was stated that the Province fort was "very ill convenient" for the settlers on the northeasterly side of Martin's Swamp, and that there were not accommodations for all the inhabitants in said fort. In closing, they stated that unless they could have a place of defense according to the petition they must of necessity leave the township. In compliance with the request, a meeting was held and a vote was passed to raise money and build a fort forthwith. At a later meeting, it was voted to pay William Hancock eight pounds upon his building a fort or garrison to be forty feet square with palisades or stockades three feet and one- half in the ground and ten feet above the ground, said stockades to be set double, and a good flanker, or watch-box, to be built at two opposite corners. This was to be located where the inhabitants living on the northeasterly side of the swamp could be accommodated, finished within twenty days from date, and paid for by the proprietors. There are reasons for the belief that this garrison was connected with the dwelling-house of William Hancock, and not at Pleasant Point; as in the will of Mr. Hancock he mentions "My Flanker House." The garrison, or fort, connected with the house of Joseph Woodman, at Pleasant Point, was not the original Province fort which the proprietors wished to have removed to some locality where a supply of water could be found.

During the French and Indian war all the settlers in Narragansett, No. i, left the plantation and none returned for resettlement before 1750. The dangers

GARRISONS, BLOCK-HOUSES, FORTS.

39

from wandering Indians were not then over and the garrisons were kept in repair. At one time the settlers found the door of their block-house, which they had left closed, wide open. These had been forewarned by an old, experienced scout that they should never go and return by the same path when visiting their clearings, and being suspicious that all was not right, they heeded the advice. When the wars were over a party of Indians who came to the settlement to trade informed the men there that some of their tribe were secreted in the fort at the time the door was found open, and that, on the following day, they ambushed the path by which the settlers came and missed them.

Capt. John Elden seems to have held command of the Province fort, so called, in Narragansett, No. i. It is related that while the families of the early inhabitants were living in the garrison for security while the men were absent for a day and night, a runner brought news that the enemy was in the neighbor- hood. But Mrs. Elden, the captain's wife, a woman who showed heroism on more than one occasion, became master, or mistress, of the situation. She donned her absent husband's uniform, seized a sword, and with voice changed to a masculine tone, marshaled the other women, also arrayed in male attire and armed with muskets, about the fort as if preparing to resist an attack This was kept up during the night and part of the succeeding day until the "relief guard" returned and the male persuasion took charge of the garrison. Some of the first children born in the plantations on the Saco had their advent within these primitive forts, and the stirring events with which they were associated in childhood were related to their grandchildren at the fireside on many a winter evening.

The General Court authorized the erection of a fort in Pearsontown, now Standish, to be of hewed timber, one hundred feet square, with extensive flankers at opposite corners, as the custom then was. The actual building, called a "house," was only eighty feet square. After being nearly completed, it was partly destroyed by fire, but rebuilt, and fortified with two swivel guns. This was built about the time the French and Indian war came on in 1754-5. It stood on the high ground at Standish Corner, where the open square now is. For particulars the reader is referred to the Standish town history in this work.

The next fort to be mentioned was for the protection of the Indians themselves. Of this we have little more than vague tradition to inform us. No petition from the projectors of the undertaking, nor recorded action of the Indian council, has been found to aid our description. Historians have stated, without giving their authority, that the Sokokis Indians, fearing an invasion by Mohawks, employed English carpenters from Saco to build them a fort at the mouth of the Great Ossipee river. The exact location where the fort stood is not now known, but tradition has marked the site between the present

40

(lA /.7.'/,S'OA^,S, l!IJ)(;i\-II()lfSKS, FOU'I'S.

village of Cornish and the outlet of the river, near where the old Pequawket trail crossed at the fording place. This fortification has been represented as of great strength. A determined search, and suitable excavations, would undoubtedly discover the remains of the stockading where the timbers were entrenched. Some have supposed this to have been the fort in which C.'apt. John Lovewell left some stores and part of his men in 1724, when he went through the wilderness to fight the Sokokis at Pequawket. If the company crossed the stream at the head of the Killick pond, in what is now the north part of Mollis, not far from the old William West homestead, directing their steps toward Saco river, they may have followed the Indians' trail to the mouth of the Great Ossipee, at Cornish, where the fort of the Sokokis stood.

As Quebec had fallen and the wars with the Indians had ceased before the other Saco valley towns were settled by the white men, there was no need of garrisons, block-houses, or forts for the protection of the inhabitants, and here our chapter ends.

IRST CLEARINGS. — The pioneers who contemplated permanent settlement were sometimes squatters on the soil for several years before a title to their claim could be secured, as old letters relating to such transactions, now at hand, clearly prove. When the new- comer "pitched" upon a lot some distance from the cabins of those who had preceded him in settlement, a rude puncheon-and-bark camp was built. The woodman felled a goodly number of straight spruces, or chestnut trees, and cut them into sections, some eight feet in length. These were split into halves and set in a narrow trench, two feet in depth, excavated in the ground. On the inside, ribs were treenailed to the upright puncheons, which constituted the wall, to hold them in place. The roof was usually constructed of light poles covered with broad squares of chestnut bark; sometimes "shingled" with bark peeled from the white birch. At one side a light frame or platform was raised two feet above the ground and covered with cedar or hemlock boughs for a couch. This rude hut served as a shelter from the storms by day and a place of rest at night. We may designate this class the first generation of Saco valley houses.

To this remote habitation a quantity of provision sufficient to last a few weeks was carried; then, pushing up his sleeves and his coon-skin cap from his bronzed brow, the pioneer began to hew the forest down and lay the foun- dation for his future home. From the dewy morning until the deep shadows fell over the wilderness, the metallic ring of the axe could be heard, inter- rupted only by the echo-raising crash of some forest monarch, or the short mtermission of the noon-time meal. Thus, day succeeded day, while the old primeval forest that had withstood the tempest shock of centuries, yielded to the ruthless axe. The "cut-down" expanded into an "opening," and the opening into a "clearing," the whole being an overture to the warming sun- shine and refreshing dew.

The work of felling trees was greatly facilitated by the somewhat dan- gerous method called "driving." This was accomplished by under-cutting the trees upon a considerable area, on one and the same side, until a number sufficient for a "drove" were ready to be driven down; then a heavy tree, which stood in the rear of this "wounded army," was selected for a "driver"

I

42 OLD riMKH ON 'I'llli SAdO.

and felled upon the nearest neif(hboring tree, which fell in turn, carrying others down in its descent, like Icnj^ins in the bowling alley, until an acre was covered with "fallen heroes."

When several acres had been cut, it was necessary to wait for the wood to season before the torch was put in. It was during this interval that the log-house was put up. Many of these, which we denominate the second gen- eration of houses, were constructed of round logs cut from saplings; but the better class, designed for a more permanent domicile, were built of hewed timber prepared with much labor. On the occasion of "rolling up the log- house," as the process was called, it became necessary to call for the assistance of the neighboring settlers, for, when the walls of the house had been raised to a considerable height, the combined strength of several men was required in placing the heavy timbers. One by one the tiers were laid on, neatly dove- tailed at the corners and firmly treenailed together. The openings between the logs were sometimes filled on the inside with triangular shaped ribs hewed out with the narrow axe and pinned in place. On the outside, after being thoroughly "chinked" with meadow or tree moss, the openings were plastered with clay mortar.

The chimneys were laid up of rude stones upon the outside of the walls of the house at one end, and sometimes "topped out" with sticks or an empty cask. The fireplaces were so enormously wide, and high withal, that the person of studious proclivity could sit upon the hearthstone and, looking upward through the "fine" which opened to the outer world, read the heav- enly runes that marked the "great dipper," the "yard-ell," and consider the sweet influences of the Pleiades and the bands of Orion.

In the front walls of these cabins two or three openings were left for the door and windows. Rude frames were attached to the squared ends of the timbers and filled with oiled paper, which was sufficiently translucent to admit the light, and too dense to satisfy the inquisitive stranger from without when passing; a sort of window and curtain combined, you see; probably the sug- gestive precursor of ground glass. When a heavy plank door had been attached by long wooden hinges, a punclieoned floor laid, and some pins driven into the wall within for the family wardrobe, the log-house was ready for occupancy.

The furnishing of these primitive dwellings was of the most simple and inexpensive character. At the fireside was a high-backed settle, sometimes called the "resting chair," for heads of the family, while the young folks sat on saw-blocks, usually called by the pioneers "on-marchantable shingle-bolts." The eating-table was made from a single plank, hewed into form with an axe and supported upon legs driven into augur holes. A few shelves laid on long treenails driven into the wall timbers served for the dishes, and a cleat with slots of various sizes constituted a rack for table cutlery and spoons.

OLD TIMES ON THE SACO.

43

Water for culinary purposes was brought from a woodland spring in a home- made bucket which reposed upon a block in a corner.

We have now reached a point in our descriptive summary where a problem of intricate character must be solved. It has been laid down as a philosophical fact that no two bodies of equal proportions can occupy the same space at the same time. Now, then, here about this fireside there are ten robust children to be disposed of for the night, to be provided with places of rest. "Where on airth," as old folks would say, can room be found for them all .'' The growing boys and girls were much too heavy for suspending upon pegs in the wall, and baskets for stowage seemed to be wanting. Of course there was a great high bed in one corner, well supplied with warm blankets in winter, but this was the parental couch. However, we shall see that the inventive faculties of the pioneer fathers and mothers were exercised to economize and utilize space; every square inch of the small house was put to some practical use. Hidden away from the eye of the curious visitor, and hovered by the great bed, was a primitive article of furniture with a capacity as elastic as the conscience of a congressman. Let us pull this semi-vehicle from its day-time seclusion; it ran on wheels and was appropriately called a "trundle-bed," otherwise, "truckle-bed." It was of humble stature, but as broad and long as the space assigned for it under the big bed would admit of. We must now fancy an experiment in the art of packing rawhide. Ned has become drowsy and calls for his share of the trundle-bed; he is well tucked in at one side. Soon Bill was in correct feather for rest and he was laid alongside his snoring brother. Now Zeke demands attention, as his head drops forward in his chair, and his father assigns him a portion of space in the gang-bed. Sam has gone to sleep upon the hearth-rug beside the dog and Bob is snoozing on his father's knee; these are also stowed away in the head tier. Was that bed full then.' Why, bless your stars, no. There are three curly-headed lassies still to be disposed of. Molly, Sally, and Charity must find a place in the same accommodating couch, in the end opposite to that occupied by their brothers, who, packed hard together, "spoon fashion," were now wallowing over the shady moors of dreamland. All are in the embrace of nature's sweet restorer. By the father's side little Mercy shall find repose, while baby Jim nestles upon his mother's protecting arm. Such old-time beds were saturated with sleep. Now we breathe easier.

These log-houses were warm and comfortable when well built and served the settler's purpose until facilities for preparing better building materials were available. To just such dwellings hundreds of the pioneers of the Saco valley led their young wives, and in such some of the noblest spirits whose names have graced the pages of American history first saw the light. More- over, the members of these early families extracted as much comfort out of existence while living in these humble abodes as when, subsequently, they

44

OLD TIMES ON TlIK SAdO.

were settled in their more capacious farm-houses and supplied with more pretentious furnishing. However, we have fancied that some of the younf^ wives, who had lieen Ijred in homes westward, where the more refined asso- ciations of an older settlement had been enjoyed, must have keenly felt the sacrifices submitted to when they began life in the wilderness. This is illus- trated by an old manuscript, now at hand, written by a man when rising eighty, who was one of the first pioneers of the plantation in early life. In this document he has described, with great fullness of detail, the many deprivations to which he and his brother submitted when they established themselves in the backwoods.

The winter following their first summer's work at making a clearing on their claim was passed in a small cabin without the cheering companionship of woman. Eight bushels of corn had been purchased in the autumn; this was reduced to meal and carried on their shoulders eight miles to their cabin. The same number of bushels of potatoes were stored in a rude cellar under the fioor, for which boards were drawn by the brothers on a hand-sled sixteen miles through the woods over the early snows.

Durmg winter their vegetables were all frozen but were boiled, mixed with meal, and baked into "potato-bread," in a Dutch oven buried in coals. Without sauce or sweetening, and with no meat with the exception of an occasional rabbit, partridge, or fish, these isolated men passed the long New England winter, surrounded by a wilderness, remote from other human beings, their low hut almost buried under the accumulated snow — but quite contented and comfortable.

The following spring, the elder brother went to Portsmouth, where he was married, and brought his young wife by shallop to the mouth of Saco river. Here he found his brother in waiting and the three carried by footpath the meagre stock of household goods and belongings to their prospective home in the interior. He writes: "My dear wife was cheerful and right well pleased on our journey until we reached the borders of our clearing, where she saw amid the fallen timber the house in which she was to live ; then she remem- bered the good home she had left behind, and sat down upon a log and wept. She soon recovered her composure, however, and went bravely forward. For more than a year from the day when she left the settlement at Saco, she did not see the face of one of her sex."

During the second winter the anticipated appearance of an additional member to the household made it necessary to procure the services of a nurse. The unmarried brother mounted a horse, and, leading another with an un- occupied lady's saddle, started through the deep snow on his urgent errand. On reaching the nearest settlement he found a woman who con- sented to undertake the journey and who accompanied him back to his home. Their progress through the drifts was slow, and when they arrived at their

OLD TIMES ON THE SACO.

45

destination the little stranger had opened his eyes in the cabin and was lustily experimenting with his new-found voice. From that glad hour the uprising of maternal affection was manifested in many a lullaby sung soft and sweet to the time of the cradle rock, while the father's heart grew warmer, and his arms stronger for toil, as his willing ears were saluted by the prattling voice of his offspring.

When the enormous burden of timber and brushwood had been burned off, and the rain had carried the strength of the fertilizing ashes into the virgin soil, a thousand hitherto latent seeds, deposited there by the Creator in the beginning, were developed by sunshine and moisture and sprang forth in luxuriant abundance to cover the black and unsightly ground with pleasing verdure.

Before the plow could be used, corn was planted, and rye sowed, upon the "burn." The former was "dug in" with a heavy hoe and the latter "hacked in" with the same implement. This was sometimes done before the settler found time to pile up the charred logs ; nevertheless, it grew rank and tall, even to the stature of the tallest man, and reached forth its broad green leaves in great extent. On one of these "ricks" an aged man told me he raised one hundred and fifty bushels of beautiful, fully ripe, shelled corn, before the logs were piled, and which, having been harvested before he had a family, was turned over to pay for his land.

In one of the new clearings of a Saco valley township about forty miles from the mouth of the river, two boys were left at a camp to care for the growing corn, and drive the bears away, from June until September. One of these sons informed me, when he was nearing the century line, that he and his brother became very lonesome at times and used to climb a mountain-side and look down river with the hope of seeing their father coming. They obeyed the orders given them in the spring, saw the growing corn mature, enjoyed excellent health, and survived to relate to their puny, degenerate descendants, who had been reaping the fruits of their father's toil, earned by many an aching back and sweating brow, their experiences of vicissitude and hardship.

The Farm-Hoiise. — This was the third generation of New England dwell- ings. As soon as the land had become sufficiently productive to supply the family with food, and to support a pair of oxen and two or three cows, a new and more commodious dwelling was talked of. A mother's delicate ideas of propriety suggested more privacy for her daughters, whose fair cheeks were becoming tinted, like the sky of the orient at day dawn, with the blushing harbingers of womanhood. There must be room for more beds, a wider table, and more expansive fireside. The surplus crops could now be carried to market and exchanged for such furniture and conveniences as were required in a house of several compartments.

4(5

OLD TIMI'JS ON Tlll<: SACO.

'I'he principal materials for a new dwelling were near at hand. A cluster of tall, straight pines was left on the border of the clearing for this purpose, and toward them, with contemplative gaze, the toiling pioneer had often turned his eyes when forming his ideal of the house that was to be. Cheer- fully and right lustily did the sturdy yeoman wield the shining axe when cutting the timber for farm-house, and, meanwhile, the rumbling saw-mill in the distance was ready to cut out the boards for covering the frame.

The wide, low-posted farm-house that succeeded the New England log- cabin must have been an inventicm of those who settled the eastern colonies. No models existed in England like them ; there were none in the colonies south that resembled them. They were more like the houses of the well-to-do "bonders" in Norway (Europe) than any dwellings we have ever seen — in capaciousness, comfort, and the large timber of which they were constructed. A few of these remain quite unchanged to remind the sixth generation of men and women how their ancestors built. In such a farm-house the author spent his early years and he can vouch for the accuracy of his description. They were nearly forty feet square on the foundation, the posts not more than eight feet in height, and the gables very high. Framed of enormous timbers and braced with white oak, no tempest known to New England was ever power- ful enough to blow them down, although they were usually located with defiant aspect upon a high hill. But they would sometimes creak and groan under the force of a strong wind like an old timber ship in a storm at sea.

The original plan for one of these wide houses was marked out on the ground with the "ten-foot pole" ; hence the origin, we assume, of the "ground plan " for a building. Husband and wife visited the spot selected for the new dwelling, and when making estimates for dimensions considered their present and prospective needs. Housewives of that period who had lived for a series of years in the narrow-walled log-house wanted "elbow-room," room to "turn round in," plenty of room, if you please. And so they marked out the number and size of the apartments required. There must be, to employ the parlance of the old people, the kitchen, backroom, foreroom, bedrooms, dresser-room, cellar-way, scullery, stair-way, entry-way and clothes-press. When the space to be covered by such rooms had been outlined upon the ground, the farmer knew the length of his beams, sills, and plates ; there is not a doubt about that. He was just to wall in said space and then, as the primitive joiner would say, "ruff it over"; that's all there was to it; no estimating for swell fronts or alcove windows. "Raising-day" came at length and with it the planters and their robust sons. There were but few tools in these settlements and those were of rude and ungainly pattern. To borrow pod-augurs, cross- cut saws, framing-chisels, scratch-awls, and snap-lines, boys were sent in all directions. But little attention had been paid to squares and plumb-lines. Those quaint old fellows who had been trained to look along gun-barrels, said

OLD TIMES ON THE SAGO.

47

they could "squint straight," and measure near enough with outspread palm or ball of thumb. The timber was "skewing," tenons were sure to "slant 'nunder," the whole had been framed by "scribe-rule" and would go together somehow ; most anyhow.

When the broadsides had been laid out and pinned together; when the shores, consisting of long poles, had been attached to the plates with oxchains, man and boys, and sometimes women, were called to a post of duty and orders given them by the master-workman.

Shirt sleeves were rolled up, collars unbuttoned, gallowses tightened, hands spit upon to give a firmer grip, and the "boss" shouted in stentorian voice :

"Are you all ready?"

"All ready," responded the stalwart men.

"Then pick him up," cried the commander, and the heavy broadside began to rise.

"Steady! Steady, there! Steady, men! Now put him up, up, up! Hold your shores there ! All together ! S-t-e-a-d-y ! There he goes. Hold ! hold ! Put on the stays ! There ! Well done, men ! well done !" repeated the master-work- man appreciatively, as the red-faced, panting men straightened their aching backs and chafed shoulders.

"Bear a hand here," shouted the master after a brief rest, and all moved to the other broadside.

"Say when you are ready."

"All ready."

"Then put him up, men; put him up, I say. H-e-a-v-e him up, up. Steady now! There! All r-i-g-h-t. Squint and say when it is plumb. A-1-1 r-i-g-h-t. Put on the stays."

Now for the cross-beams. Level-headed men were now called upon and they climbed upon the plates. Those upon the ground raised the heavy timbers up with in hand-grasp, and shouted, "Give beam ! give beam !" as they moved the tenon into the mortise. "There you are; throw up a pin." Now the crack of a mallet rang out as the pins and keys were driven home.

When all the beams, braces, and "studdin'" were in place, the work of raising the "ruff" was attended to. This was the most difficult and dan- gerous part of the laborious undertaking. Men of composure and prudence were required at this juncture, and those of experience "went aloft." Two by two the huge rafters were raised into position ; one by one were the purlines dropped into the "gains" cut for them, and the crowning feat, the putting on of the ridge-pole, was consummated. When the last pin had been driven, the rustic poet announced that the "raisin' would be concluded by naming the new frame." He then recited slowly, measuredly, solemnly, something like the following, improvised for the occasion :

48

oij) Ti:Ui<:s ON rii/<: saco.

"Hore'H a m-i-K-h-t-y f-i-n-e f-r-a-in-e, Which <l-o-H-ii-r-v-e-.s a (f-o-o-d n a-iri-c; Say, what shall we call it? The t-i-iii-b-(j-r-'s all s-t-r-a-i-g-h-t, A7id w-a-H h-e-w-e-d f-u-s-t r-a-t-e; Th(! f-r-a-in-e in w-e-1-1 i)iit t-o-(j-e-t-h-e-r. May the man and — liis \vif(!, Who may here spend their life, Be sheltered fiom lieat and cold wcatlier; May their lieaits be united. As when tliey were pliglited, And at last dwell in li-e-a-v-e-n together. Yes, 'tis a good frame, that desarves a good name, Say! What shall we name it?"

When this primitive ceremony had been performed, the master-workman congratulated the owner, thanked the neighbors in his behalf for their gen- erous services, and pronounced the raisin' done.

Months passed and the "jiners" were busily engaged in finishing off the new house. If the farmer was well-to-do he had the rooms "ceiled up" with matched boards of clear pumpkin pine; possibly, some wainscot and panel- work under the windows and about the mantel-shelf. Everything would be plain, substantial, and workman-like, but one seldom saw any filigree about this class of houses ; sometimes, however, a few small mouldings and a narrow "bead " at the joints of matched boards. The doors might be of panel-work, more likely "cleat" doors, which were adjusted with wrought-iron hinges and latches, the former in shape like the carpenter's square, windows small, twelve-lighted, with seven-by-nine glass set in sliding sashes.*

These houses were warmed by broad fireplaces ; sometimes there were three of these in one great chimney facing as many rooms ; they were built of brick. The hearth was made of a hewed slab of granite, long, wide, and warm for toasting your feet, sir. Hinged to one "jamb" of the fireplace was the long, iron "crane," resting upon iron sockets; this was well supplied with various sizes of pot-hooks, trammels, and a few chain-links, peradventure. From one of these the tea-kettle sang many a soft, low, and soothing song of "family glee." At the fireside stood the shovel and tongs, " which together

* Window -glass lieing expensive was often carried a long distance with great care. The stoi-y was told of a Saco valley settler who had built a log-Iiouse and after moving his family in, went to Gorhamtown to purchase twelve lights of seven-by-nine glass for the two small windows. Tliis was well tied in a large handkerchief and he started on his return. Selecting even places for his feet at every step, and avoiding all obstacles, he moved slowly homeward. All went well until lie liad reached his door-yard. As he approached his house he saw his wife standing in the door, and sbouted, " Well, Sally, I have got my glass home without any accident " ; and at that moment, having Ids attention diverted, he caught his foot in a small bush by the path and fell headlong. Quick of thought, he raised his hand high to shield his glass, but it came down with full swing upon a flat stone and every light was broken into " splitherins." It was reported that his language, following this aggravating incident, was too higlily .seasoned with brimstone for every-day use, and that he registered a vow then and there that he would never look through glass in that house and kept his word. He said: " If I'd fell half-way to Gorhamtown, I wouldn't a keered, but 'twas too tarnation bad to go down right off agin my own door'n smash it."

OLD TIMES ON THE SACO.

49

belong," well-worn and shining in the glimmering firelight. Upon pegs, hung "quilted holders," hand hooks, candle snuffers, shears, and the bellows for putting spirit into a smothered spark. Upon the long mantel, which nearly spanned one side of the room, were the iron and brass candle-sticks, a pair of great, high-handled smoothing-irons, and the small tin trunk for the tinder- box, in later years, for lucifer matches. Above the hearth-stone in every house built at the time of which I write, were two or three long, neatly peeled, spruce poles, suspended from the beams by strings or straps, upon which pumpkins, bellpeppers, apples, and gourd-shells were drying at one end ; at the other, skeins of domestic yarn, stockings just dyed, or a pair of new "fox- and-geese mittens." Hanging upon a pair of buck horns, or wooden hooks cut from a crippled tree, was the long, clumsy, clamped musket that had been a " Revolutioner," or, possibly, was one of the ;«a;/v with which Chamberlain killed Paugus. From the' same supports were suspended, by leathern string, the curiously carved powder-horn and "cutryments" thereunto belonging.

The farm-house furniture was heavy and substantial, but a great improve- ment on that in the log-house. High-posted, tall, red, basket-bottomed chairs stood in military order about the wall. A two-leaved table, with a drawer at one end for the spread and cutlery, and a rail about the legs to rest one's feet- upon ; a small "light-stand" between windows for the family Bible and work- basket; the canopied, constantly patronized cradle, and when "fore-handed," a tall, solemn-ticking clock in the corner. In the back room a " chist o' draws," in the foreroom a bureau over which hung a " mournin'-piece," in brindled pine frame, headed " Sacred to the Memory," over the picture of a disconsolate woman wiping her weeping eyes with a voluminous handkerchief, supported all this time by leaning upon a two-handled urn under the shade of a " weepin' wilier." By the side of this, the appropriate "Family Register," filled out by Nathaniel Fox, "from Oxford county amongst the rocks," and containing the names of a whole baker's dozen of sons and "darters." The transient articles of furniture were the great spinning-wheel, flax-wheel, and loom ; occasionally, also, the warping-bars and swifts.

We must not forget the great, hard-wood, framed bedsteads always found in the wide farm-house ; these were of sufficient stability to hold up Goliath of Gath, and his wife, too, if he had one. No patent springs to crease your back or give you a boost in the morning, but ropes, ropes, if you please, cross- ing each other at right angles, that would snap and creak like a rickety wagon. These were well guarded with thick beds of straw or dried corn husks, above which was the billowy bed of "live-geese feathers." Over all were heavy, warm, homespun blankets, patch-work quilts of woolen, surmounted by a blue and white coverlid. Let the winds howl, the snow drift, the ice rip on the river, the sled shoes groan on the road, the sash rattle in the window-frame or nails snap in the wall, but he or she who was enveloped in such a bed could

50

OLD TIMKS ON T/IK ,SA(JO.

bid defiance to the elements and wander undisturbed in the province of delight- ful dreams. Into such beds many a lad or lassie was tucked with a hot blanket about their feet, while the blessed benediction of a loving mother's good-night kiss was a summons for the guardian angels to come down and touch the drooping eyelids.

There was one "annex" of the farm-house kitchen in the olden time that demands careful descriptive treatment; this was called by the grandmothers "a dresser," or "dresser-room." In the first houses, they were built against the wall at one side, and exposed to view in the common living room; latterly, they have been in side room or pantry. This was the housewife's most sacred precinct, and no mistake. Here she exercised woman's rights, and from her arbitrary decree there was no appeal that could avail for the intruder. Upon the "lower shelf," which was elevated four inches above the floor of the room, were arranged with precision the articles of wooden ware, consisting of pails, piggins, noggins, keelers, runlets, trenchers, puncheons, and pudding-sticks. At one end was a small, low cupboard, where the groceries and spices were stored; this cuddy was protected by a door fastened with a wooden button. About two feet higher up was the "broad shelf," so called, whereon reposed the large bowls, platters, porringers, pewter plates, and japanned trays, all marshaled in single file. Still higher, raised tier upon tier, were the "narrow shelves," in the back of which deep grooves were ploughed to keep the plates, set on edge, from falling. Higher yet, yea, the third heaven of the dresser, was a shelf containing the blue and white, figured tea-set presented by the mother of our good dame on her wedding-day. The occasions were rare, and the company very "select," when this treasure was placed upon the table within reach of careless hands. At one end of the "dresser" was a rack for spoons and meat-knives, and a peg for the polished tin pepper-box. This is the way it was all arranged, true's you live, and he who has had line upon line, and warning upon warning, when seen only looking toward such a crockery case, to say nothing of the corporeal emphasis applied when caught upon the "broad shelf" thereof, cannot well forget how every part appeared in his youthful days. Ah, never!

Food and Cooking. — We omitted mention, purposely, of the great brick oven which was absolutely indispensable in the home of the early settlers of Maine. This was built into the back of the chimney and opened into the fireplace in the earlier houses; latterly, the oven opened at one side, and under it was the "ash-hole," otherwise "stock-hole." This was heated once a week, on Saturday morning, and on important occasions, as elsewhere mentioned, at other times. It was heated with small, light wood prepared for that purpose and called "oven-wood." After a fire had been kept burning in the oven until the brick floor thereof and the walls and arched roof were thoroughly heated, the coals were mostly drawn out with the long-handled fire-shovel,

OLD TIMES ON THE SACO.

51

and the capacious vault filled with such good things as were toothsome in those days. As a rule, the beans, puddings, and brown bread were baked in earthen ware, while the spare-rib, or chicken, was cooked in an iron pan. When there was a deficiency of dishes for this purpose, the housewife would go to the garden, or cellar, and select a few large cabbage leaves for a sub- stitute. These were washed and placed upon the hot floor of the oven with the unbaked bread upon them; this, in its plastic state, would conform to every indented vein of the leaf, which, when the loaf was withdrawn, would crumble in pieces. No better bread was ever eaten than that baked on a cabbage leaf in a brick oven. Hungry boys have been known to remove a few bricks from the back side of these ovens, and when a well-browned loaf had been removed, to be feasted on in a shady grove, and the bricks carefully replaced, the superstitious old mothers would insist that their oven had been "bewitched."

Sliced meat and pancakes were fried in an iron spider over coals raked upon the hearth. Cooking in this way was hot work for the face and hands. If a goose or turkey was to be roasted outside of the brick oven or tin kitchen, it was suspended by a stout string before the open fire and a "dripping-pan" placed under it. By twisting the string between the thumb and finger the housewife would start the fowl upon a rotary movement, and in this way all sides were equally exposed to the heat. Betimes the savory meat was basted from the pan below. Nothing could be richer than the flesh of a fowl thus roasted, as many an old farmer, who sniffed its rich aroma when hunting for the "lucky-bone," can testify.

But bannocks, gentlemen, bannocks were, of all the treat, the most delicious, when made and baked in the most primitive fashion. As the even- ing meal drew near the well-aproned housewife began her preparations by brushing the hearth with a turkey's wing taken from its place on a nail at the chimney-side. Then a bank of live hard-wood coals was raked forward between the andirons, and the broad bannock was placed before the fire to bake, the bake-pan leaning against a sad-iron. How beautifully the yellow batter grew darker, shade by shade! Occasionally the busy housewife shielded her face with her hands and glanced at the steaming bread, and her practised eye saw the exact surface tint which indicated that the time had come when the analogy between this cake and Ephraim should no longer exist. She seized the bake-tin and, by that dexterity acquired by all the early cooks, quickly turned the bread upside down and in a twinkling had the unbaked side exposed to the glowing heat. We were in no haste to say farewell to that sweet-smelling bannock; it was excellent company, and favored was he whose knife hung low on the edge when cutting his slice. Let us linger awhile.

The white cloth of Simon pure linen, homespun and homewoven, was

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OLD TIMI<:,S ON TlIK SA(;0.

now spread daintily upon the low table; great flaring bowls, bearing many a fantastic figure and crinkled stripe, were placed in order upon the spread, each having a spoon laid l)y its side. Next came the great, high-handled pitcher that was opulent and weighty with cool milk, well becreamed — not the blue, consumptive-looking liquid peddled- out by modern dealers, who have the habit of pouring milk into water — from the udders of "J-'ink" and "Buttercup." Then the bannock, done to a turn, appeared upon the great platter, smoking hot, and was placed in the centre of the table.

The wistful, mouth-watering company was now invited to "gather round the board," and it was done without a tear. Table manners had not, thank the Lord, according to the popular code, been formulated at the period we are writing about. But what was wanting in ceremonial polish and mock polite- ness was more than made good by a right royal welcome and something fit to eat. "Help yourselves," meant something then, and hungry folks knew the definition.

The bannock, like the Irishman's good resolutions, was made to be broken, and soon lay separated in squares from which the savory incense was rising. Now's your time, my friend; it will never be quite as good again, so tumble it into your bowl. How the milk seemed to jump for joy as it claimed its own, as piece after piece of the golden bannock, crusty and crispy, fell into the creamy liquid, where it sank for a moment only to rise again, ready for your capering spoon! And yet, how elusive were these pieces when one began to eat! They would dive, like so many yellow ducks, beneath the sur- face of the white pond and hide under each other to tantalize the appetite and prolong the delicious feast. When once upon the tongue, how one's thoughts went down into their mouth to be entertained there with the delight- ful flavor, and lingered about the enamored palate until the last delicious morsel had disappeared!

" Meagre repast," says the fastidious reader. " Princely feast! " exclaims the man who knows the ecstatic pleasure experienced while engaged with such a luxury. Why, my nostrils inflate and tingle now, as I remember the inde- scribable sweetness of the milk-moistened bannock that nourished me in my boyhood home. Nothing more wholesome, brain-making, or bone-hardening was ever served to a family of growing children, and having acquired a taste for it, the delicious flavor cannot be forgotten. Nothing comparable to the old-fashioned bannock can be produced by any modern method or appliance used for cooking. Somehow there was an affinity between this kind of bread and the open fire; there was a combination of conditions and circumstances that renders it now impossible to reproduce such food. There must be the new, well-ripened corn, containing the peculiar nutritious ingredients pro- duced by virgin soil; there must be the cunning art of mixing and baking; there must be the bank of glowing coals, the rich, cool milk flavored with

OLD TIMES ON THE SACO.

53

honeysuckle, and the crazy, vehement appetite known only to those who lived in the open air and in well-ventilated houses. Our relish has been perverted and led astray by the fancy viands of a later day, and we may never again experience the pleasure of eating bannock and milk with the same intensity realized when, as hungry boys and girls, it was served to us by the hand of the best cook the world has ever known — our mother.

Another article of food prepared by our early housewives was called the Indian pudding. The art of making them, that is, one worthy of the name, has passed away with the generation that knew how to produce them. In every family they were a standard food that appeared as regularly as the "pudding-time" morning. These were baked in a deep earthen dish without cover and could only be brought to the highest degree of excellence by being subjected to a moderate degree of heat for at least eighteen hours in a closed brick oven. How they were prepared before going there, the Lord only knows — if, indeed. He is concerned about puddings — for no living woman, given all the ingredients and the oven, can produce anything approaching the wonder- fully delicious article pulled out with the great fire-shovel, on a Sunday morn- ing, by some old mother, say fifty years ago. Some say they can do it, but the "proof of a pudding" is in eating it; they cannot duplicate the old-style Indian pudding. These puddings had backbone; when turned out upon the big plate in the middle of the table they stood alone and kept their form till cut in s/ices for your eating. Ah ! but how they did shine ! They were permeated with a jelly-like substance that was as nectar to the palate. The whole mass would tremble and vibrate like a springy meadow, but never sank. When your slice was laid in your plate, and a lump of golden, June-made but- ter was dropped upon it, how nicely it was dissolved and distributed through the light, open-hearted pudding! Indeed, it looked too good to eat; the sight of it was fascinating, bewitching. Sometimes it was walloped in cream, which greatly enhanced the flavor. On special occasions, like a wedding-feast, a ministerial visit, or quarterly-meeting time, the good woman would drop in a handful of plums to tickle the palates of her company. Compared with the pale, sloppy, degenerate imitation baked in a range, and falsely called an Indian pudding, the genuine, old-time article was kingly, almost good enough for "angels' food." But we may exhaust hyperbole and strain superlatives to the bursting point in vainly trying to elucidate the marvelous beauty and exquisite deliciotisness of an old-fashioned, mother-made Indian pudding; it cannot be done.

"Must-go-down" was the name applied to one of the old-fashioned dishes. "And what'n the name o' common sense was musgodown?" asks Aunt Pru- dence. Hard to describe. We may as well attempt to explain colors to a blind man, or the sound of a trumpet to one devoid of hearing, as to write with any claim to accuracy about the flavors of food never tasted by the reader.

»

54

OLD TIMES ON THE SACO.

We have enjoyed the honor of sitting at the farmer's table graced with a plate of "must-go-down," and know whereof we write. The food was made of the crusts from loaves of " rye-and-injun " bread, boiled until dissolved into grains like hominy, sweetened with molasses, and served up with cream.

The methods and appliances for cooking were simple, and the food of our ancestors was correspondingly plain. This was well. There was the " minute- pudding," boiled in a bag; to eat the latter was said to be the proof of this kind. Then, there was a kind of fried pancakes quite unlike a modern doughnut or slapjack ; they were dropped from a spoon into boiling lard, and came out nicely browned, but, as ragged as a Texas rat. These puffy, round-bodied cakes were very good eating.

Bean soup, meat broth, dandelion greens, and "biled dinners" were fashionable in the early homes. Various kinds of food were considered to be, not only wholesome, but medicinal and curative. The old folks said they partook of such, not because they relished them very much, but from a sense of t^uij,- because they ougAt to do so for the body's sake. Their religion had to do with the physical as well as the spiritual ; it was a good sort.

Bear steak, venison, and various kinds of fish, with which the ponds and streams then abounded, constituted a substantial share of the early settler's table supply. The Saco river was so full of salmon when the first clearings were made on its banks, that they were caught with trap, spear, and hook in such quantities that barrels of them were cured and kept for winter use.

Every variety of wild berry grew in great abundance on the newly cleared land, and served not only an important, but also a most delightful and whole- some, part in the pioneer family's daily provision for the table.

With such nutritious and delicious food as we have mentioned, supple- mented by a considerable list of other kinds, served in a variety of ingenious forms, we may be assured that the family of the Saco valley farmer, whose acreage was sufficient for the number of his household, fared pretty well. Of course there were times before much land was in crop, or when frost or drought cut down the harvest, that the early settlers were pinched for food; but these were the rare exceptions, not the rule. We have found neither record nor tra- dition of famine or starvation in the settlements of which we now write ; for the unfastidious there was always a fair supply of food.

While writing of the food and cooking of the pioneers it may be proper to mention some old-time neighborly customs that prevailed in those days. The inhabitants of a community were much more dependent upon each other at this early time than now, hence, were reciprocal and generous. If a family had some table luxury, a quantity was reserved and carried to their neighbors to give them a "taste of the dinner." This custom was universally practised when the author was a child, and he was many times sent out to some family a half-mile from home with a saucer neatly folded in a napkin, and con-

FINE OLD DISHES.

OLB TIMES ON THE SAGO.

55

taining a small quantity of some rare delicacy, with instructions like these : " Say to Aunt Sally that Aunt Molly has sent her a taste of her dinner." Such was always considered to be a high compliment, and was sure to be reciprocated before the season ended ; but never with the same article of food.

If one of a neighborhood had killed the favorite porker, or "beef-critter," the boys were dispatched with a generous piece of the meat to the outlying families. Later, when said neighbors had laid in their store of meat, pieces were reserved for those who lived adjoining. When one had been a-fishing and came home with a liberal "string" of trout or pickerel he always — unless a man with a mustard-seed soul — divided with his neighbors. This was a very pleasant way to live. Would that such customs prevailed to-day ! How refreshing it would prove for such as never go a-fishing !

DOMESTIC EMPLOYMENT.

Wool-Dressing. — The sheep of the Saco valley farmers were mercifully allowed to wear their warm fleece until the chilling spring storms were over and the mild weather necessitated shearing and lamb-marking. During those days there were professional sheep-shearers who went round the settlements with their shears, and neatly clipped the fleece. Some held the docile sheep upon the barn floor ; others laid them on a raised platform, which was a more com- fortable arrangement for both shearer and sheep.

Everyman who owned a flock had a registered "ear-mark"; these, in the early town records, are often mixed in with the births of children. When the sheep had been shorn, the lambs' tails were "docked," and their ears split or "cropped," with a sharp knife; a somewhat cruel practice, considered to be necessary when the several flocks ran together on the plains and were some- times scattered by wild animals or dogs before they came to the barns in the late fall.

The wool was usually washed in the fleece after shearing, and spread upon the grass to dry. The methods employed for dressing domestic wool by hand were simple and practical. It was first carefully "picked" with the fingers ; then carded with hand cards into long, fluffy rolls which were handled deli- cately and carefully laid away in bundles. These were principally white, but nearly every farmer, according to the adage, had one black sheep in his flock. This black, or brown, wool was sometimes mixed with white in carding to produce gray; at other times the two colors were spun separately and woven together in the web.

In the homes of the early settlers on the Saco, the wool was spun on the Quaker wheel, which, by reason of the difference between its diameter and that of the spool on the spindle, was capable of great speed. When all was in readiness^ a turn was given to the wheel and the end of the roll, held between

OIJ) TIM ICS ON 'I'lIK SACO.

the thumb and finder of the left hand, was attached to the spiral point of the swiftly-revolving spindle; then the spinner stepped quickly backward to "draw out " her thread, which, when sufficiently twisted, was wound against a shoulder or guard that answered for a spool or bobbin. This operation was repeated. When a roll had nearly run out, another was deftly spliced to the remaining end, and so the work went on, the wheel, meanwhile, humming like a giant bumble-bee. These nimble old spinners could boast of their six skeins spun in a day, besides doing the housework. What do you think o' that?

As soon as the spindle had been filled, the yarn was wound ofif upon a hand reel. How clearly fancy draws a picture of this pleasant scene! Some stately old dame, capped and beruffled, whose morning housework had been finished, comes armed with a bundle of rolls wrapped in a soft woolen cloth which she places upon the beam of her wheel near the open fire to warm ; to "start the ile," she says, so they will "run " without snapping.

See her tune her instrument. Sometimes these obdurate old engines, like old men who were troubled with rheumatism, were affected by the weather, and wouldn't, or couldn't, go. They had been stowed away in a chamber, or unused room down-stairs, had taken cold, were stiff in their joints, and required warming and lubricating. They would "cast-band," as their trainers said. She puts on the harness and gives the old critter a smart turn. Whew ! What's to pay now ? The old lady walks about her machine and examines every part; squints along the band and "surmises" that its "head" isn't straight. She gives its neck a twist, thumps its head with the heel of her hand to settle it in place, and goes back to try her wheel-pin again. Snap ! and away goes the band. Too loose. She goes back and gives the tail of the critter a twist; that is, turns up the screw and tightens the wheel-band. Once more she gives the wheel a turn. Buz-z-z-z. All right now; she is gittin' condescendin'. The roll is now put upon the humming spindle, and the tireless wheel begins its day's work ; the almost equally enduring spinner her sprightly march across the kitchen fioor.

To spin six skeins of yarn on the Quaker wheel required a journey of more than hoenty mih's a day. This was not all ; she must stop occasionally to reel the yarn off and tie the skein in "knots." Moreover, as elsewhere intimated, these women had house and dairy work to attend to ; their cooking and a score of small chores. She repeats the performance day after day, sings to the music of her wheel, and never complains.

The music of the spinning-wheel may not have been considered as artistic as that of the modern piano — and yet it required about as much skill and facility of fingers to manipulate it — but it was popular, to say the least, and was the accompaniment to something useful. The movement of the performer was a thousand times more graceful, and a million times less excruciating, than that of the professional pianist of to-day, who thinks her auditors are

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delighted with her music when they are ready to explode with amusement while witnessing her agonizing contortions of face and form. At any rate, give us the musical, mellow drone of the old Quaker wheel in preference to the head-straining, nerve-breaking jargon of the beginner on the modern machine. We feel relieved.

When a number of skeins had been taken from the wheel, they were put upon the revolving "swifts," two threads laid together, returned to the spindle, and by turning the wheel backward they were "doubled and twisted." From the spindle the yarn was wound upon a ball, and was then ready for the " warping-bars " or "knitting-work."

If the yarn was to be used single, the skein was held upon the extended hands of a man, while the mother or daughter wound the yarn therefrom upon a ball. If the two were young and marketable, he purposely allowed the travelling yarn to become entangled, and while the patient winder was employ- ing both hands to dissolve the perplexing snarl, he would steal a random kiss from her velvet cheek, which was the appropriate reward for his condescending services. This was recognized as an interesting factor of yarn winding in "ye olden time." Those utilitarian old Puritans always did manage to mingle pleasure with toil ; this obviated friction and added a never-wearying charm to existence. To this, all readers should respond. Amen.

At stated seasons of each year the great, hard-wood frame of the hand loom was set up in the kitchen of the early settler's home. This was a bulky, lumbering affair, but very useful in its "day and generation." I seem to hear again the rattle of the ratchet and latch when the beam was wound up, and the compound echo of the lathe and shuttle when sprung by the busy weaver. It was laborious exercise. The average quality of "full-cloth," woven in the farmers' homes, contained about thirty "picks" to the inch, and the weaver would be required to spring her treadles, swing the lathe, and shoot her shuttle three thousand, two hundred and forty times in a day to weave her three yards.

Much taste and skill were displayed by the good weavers in the figured and plaided fabrics produced in the hand loom. When several colors were used in weaving plaid shawls, or counterpanes, additional harnesses were put in and the manipulation of the treadles and handling of shuttles became more complicated. Some of the small-checked dress goods, bright-colored shawls, and cloaking woven by the old experts resembled the fabrics produced in Scottish hand looms.

When the web of gray full cloth was taken from the beam, the time of garment-making for the male persuasion was at hand. The "linsey-woolsey" was for "wimmin's wear." Some of the most beautiful table-linen and tow- elling, wrought with raised figures and now preserved, evinces the marvelous skill of some of the early weavers.

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Under this head we call attention to the great variety of warm, substantial hosiery manufactured by hand, at home, from domestic wool ; indeed, all the stockings, footings, gloves, and mittens for the large family were thus provided, every moment of time being employed, when not otherwise engaged, with the knitting-work; and one pair of such homespun, home-knitted stockings would outwear about a dozen pairs of the best sale kinds. "Double," "hooked," and "pegged" mittens would last for a decade.

Flax-Dressing. — Every planter in the colonial settlements had his flax- yard, and a season was set apart to dress the harvest. The flax bloomed in June, and in speaking of any transaction which occurred about this season, the pioneers spoke of it as "flax-bloom time." A field of flax in the "blow," as they used to call it, was a beautiful sight. When the crop had been pulled it was spread upon the grass-ground to rot; and as soon as the bark, or husk, became sufficiently tender from exposure to the weather, it was carried to the barn and the work of "flax-breaking" commenced.

The flax-break was a singular and very radical wooden machine, difficult to describe with the pen. It was constructed of the best quality of hard wood with the working parts elevated about two and a half feet from the floor and supported on four sturdy legs. The bed and break proper consisted of a series of slats so hinged together that the interstices of the lower tier received those above, that were connected with the break-head, when they came down upon the flax. This heavy head-block, to which the handle was attached, gave the necessary momentum when in operation. The workman stood at one side, holding the flax in his left hand crosswise upon the bed slats ; the break-head was raised with the right hand and brought down smartly upon the straw until the hull was fully crushed. Woe betide the careless man who, by being absent- minded, allowed his fingers to get between the bed and upper tier of slats ; his hand would have fared about as well between a shark's jaws.

The secondary process was called "swingling." The flax-swingle was formed much like a double-edged knife ; it was made of hard-grained wood, with a short handle at one end. This instrument was about eighteen inches long and four inches in width. When used, the crushed flax was laid hori- zontally upon an elevated plank having a convex surface, and by a swinging, dipping stroke of the wooden blade the shives were disengaged and fell off.

The third instrument employed in dressing flax was called the flax-comb or "hatchel." Its base was a square block of some solid wood filled with a thickly-set cluster of pointed, upright spines. This was fastened upon a bench and whisps of flax pulled through it until the coarser parts, called tow, were combed out. The real "lint," as the Scotch call it, when thus refined, was ready for the "distaff" and hands of the linen spinner. The "swingle- tow" was spun on the Quaker wheel from rolls carded by hand.

An inexperienced observer would be surprised to see how small a quan-

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tity of the fine fibre was obtained from a large mass of the raw material; more astonished to see the quantity of thread yielded by such small wisp when treated with the wheel.

The linen wheel was introduced into New England in 1 7 i8, by the Scotch- Irish emigrants, who were skilled in all the arts of dressing fiax, and in weaving linen fabrics on the hand loom. During the colonial period, the spinning of flax was considered to be so useful, that in Boston spinning schools were established to which the most aristocratic families sent their daughters. The art was so popular, and when acquired regarded as such an accomplishment, that these young ladies, reared in homes of wealth, applied themselves as assid- uously to become proficient as do our modern women to become expert in touching the keys of the piano and organ. At this time, the present of a well- made "little wheel," on a wedding-day, was highly appreciated; and the new instrument was exhibited with great manifestations of delight to the assembled spectators.

The "little wheel" was a lowly affair compared with the Quaker-made in- strument, and did not require as great speed. It was driven by a treadle. The spindle was supplied with "flyers" in which were small wire hooks, and by drawing the thread through a series of these, the requisite size and twist were secured. In passing from the distaff to the spindle, the deft manipulation of the spinner's fingers regulated the quantity of fibre necessary for the size of the thread, and nicely reduced all entanglements. From the spindle, the thread was reeled as was the woolen yarn from the Quaker wheel. These linen spin- ners not only spun for the loom, but manufactured their own sewing thread, and fishing lines and nets for those who followed the craft.

The outfit for married life consisted largely of the abundance of linen the young lady had neatly bleached and folded away for her table and toilet; if this had been spun and woven by her own hands, to her the more honor was due.

At the time of which we write, the most rigid economy was practised ; nothing that could in any way be made to serve a useful end was allowed to waste. Time for spinning the swingle-tow was somehow found amid the multi- tude of household duties which daily demanded attention. The coarse yarn produced from this was woven into a cotton warp and made into rough cloth used for workmen's frocks and shirts; these last mentioned were a radical sur- face irritant, and he who wore one had no use for a flesh-brush. The old folk used to relate how, when a certain young man was enduring the torments of his first tow shirt, he dreamed of all the anguish supposed to be peculiar to the regions of despair; but when this had been exchanged for a garment of softer texture, his slumbers were soothed with transporting visions of the heavenly world. Wonderful transition ; remarkable cause for the same !

Primitive Garments. — Materials for clothing the pioneer family were

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of the most durable quality. Men wore leather breeches made of the best of calf-skin and tanned sheep-skin; on state occasions such made from soft yellow buck-skin. I have conversed with men of reliability who said their fathers made for them, when lads, coats from undressed sheep-skins to wear when clearing new land, and these were not laid aside for good until they had reached the size and stature supposed to mark man's estate. Homespun cloth was of the best material, substantial and warm; garments made from such would wear until the wearer, and everybody besides, was weary of them. Scores of young men went to college in a "full-cloth" suit and were not ashamed. Ministers of the gospel wore such in the pulpit and were respected for so doing; they seldom saw anything finer in their congregations, and what was suitable for their parishioners was good enough for the preacher. Why not.-* As a matter of course, "men of t/ic cloth" must have their garments black; but those in the pews — more likely sitting on a rough plank — wore " sheep's-gray." The materials for home wear were sometimes dyed in the wool, sometimes the yarn was colored, but latterly the cloth was woven white and dyed in the piece.

But how were the garments cut out and made up? Well, it came to pass in those days that in every community there was an elderly maiden who claimed to be a tailoress; that was, she said, her '■'■trade.''' She was usually a thin, straight-spined, spectacled, and dignified person, fully conscious of the importance of her position and the indispensability of her art. By making " 'lowances," and using numerous "gussets " and "gores," she could formulate a coat, waistcoat, or pair of pantaloons, from the smallest pattern of any woman living, or man either. She had made the science a subject of profound study, and, like Dorcas of old, had spent her best days " making coats and garments." She was confident in the excellence and practicability of her designs, and modeled everything with which she had to do according to the strictest principles of economy, utility, and comfort; so she claimed, and it is doubtful if any improvements have been discovered since her peaceful domin- ion ended. This functionary was an itinerant; a sort of nomadic character who went from house to house with her shears, tape-measure, and needle-and- thread case to assist in clothing the men folk when the web. of cloth was finished. How prim she was, to be sure ! Several rank hair moles on her cheek gave her a somewhat masculine aspect. Her features were sharp and her expression mingled with dignity and wisdom ; neck, small, very long, and bejeweled with a string of gold beads; in her ears were "drops." Her fashions were invested with many virtues, not the least of which was this, — they were never known to change.

The pantaloons, more properly breeches, were the embodiment of all good features from the hatches to the bulk-head. The body parts were calculated to facilitate unimpeded circulation, being liberally endowed with cloth and

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generously capacious ; this section extended well upwards withal, and left no vulnerable joints in the yeoman's harness. What was wanting in length of leg was sure to be found in the chair-cushion. Moreover, convenience and adaptability had been considered in making the diagrams by which the various parts were cut out; nothing to be desired, compatible with good order and utility, seemed to have been overlooked. Certainly they admitted of unobstructed exercise and a flexible articulation of the limbs ; they were well provided with great pockets, ample for storage ; the waistbands, far above the waist of the wearer, were embattled with big bone buttons behind and before, and the suspenders worn with them were so short that they should have been designated as "shoulder-straps." But why weary ourselves vainly striving to describe that which was practically indescribable, inimit- able, and incomprehensible ? Such were the