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MAINE PIONEER SETTLEMENTS 



Old*^ Cascoe 

Old York 

SoKOKi Trail 

Pemaquid 

Land of St. Castin 



the author inscribes 

this volume to a 

Scholar, Soldier, and Gentleman 

General JOSHUA L. CHAMBERLAIN 

OF Maine 



MAINE PIONEER SETTLEMENTS 



®16^ Cascoc 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



HERBERT MILTON SYLVESTER 




^' 



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y 



BOSTON 

»♦ 115, Clarbe Co. 

26-28 Tremont St. 
1909 



V 



THE NEW YORK 

PUBLIC LIBRARY 

ASTOR, LENOX AND 
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS. 

R 1911 L 



May i9 '-' 



Copyright, 1904, by Herbert M. Sylvester 

All rights reserved 
Copyright, 1909, by Herbert M. Sylvester 



AUTHOR'S EDITION, DE LUXE 

This edition is limited to one thousand copies 
printed from the type. This is No. 



AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 




AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 



[T is with hesitant and uncertain step 
one betakes himself backward into 
days obhterate as to their living 
except where some tradition lingers 
in the semi-obscurity of some musty 
historical record. The once lumi- 
'''^•\ nous high-lights of the seventeenth 
century have dimmed into the far- 
off glimmer of unfamiliar stars, 
hardly discernible with the unaided 
vision, — islands on the distant marge 
' of unknown waters, charted by un- 

known hands, that come and go like the mirage of 
the desert. Sail as one will, with the most favoring 

11 




12 AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 

p;alos, they are as unattainable as the Islands of the 
I^imini. Look as one may, the things one most de- 
sires to see are never quite distinct. Nor can one make 
mucli out of the old mansions of history, silent, 
speechless; for, given three centuries of progress, the 
primitive is difficult to resurrect. 

Like the Lost Arts of Egypt, the story that began 
with the coming of Du Guast to the Island of the 
Holy Cross and of Weymouth to the waters of the 
Sagadahoc is as a tale that is told. From the Revela- 
tion of Ingram of the Golden City of the Bessabez, 
whose roofs outshone the setting sun among the dusky 
pines of Kadesquit, one unreels a tenuous thread of 
romance along which are hung the more modest 
annals of Champlain, Smith, Rosier, and Strachey. 
That there were once days of isolate and scanty 
living along the Maine Coast, peopled by a sturdy 
race of men and women, whose cabin-smokes blew 
away on the wind that followed the indents of the 
Gulf of Maine from the Piscataqua to beyond the 
Sagadahoc, is become a landmark of history. Like 
the Israelites, they were a peculiar peo]jle. For the 
Wilderness of Zin, were the untrodden wilds of an in- 
hospitable country beset with unknown perils of 
climate and unaroused savagery, where they began 
the building of a new state and a new civilization. 

It is a romantic story the annalist recalls of the 
days when five settlements made up the tale of the 
English occupancy of the Maine Province, settle- 
ments widely separate and thinly populate, whose 
only means of communication w^as an Indian trail, or 



AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 13 

the seashore at ebb-tide, compelling days of arduous 
travel: a journey that began at Kittery and ended on 
the far side of Pemaquid — lean days, of a surety, 
yet pregnant with mighty prophecy. 

After a fashion, all history is romance when it is 
so old only the warj) remains, dull and faded, with. 
only the ancient wooden loom, its dusty sleys, its 
empty shuttle, and its rude bobbin of elderberry- 
stem to perpetuate the wholesome activities of the 
homespun days. Dry and uninteresting would be the 
history of any people without atmosphere and en- 
vironment. One needs many colors on his palette to 
paint its scenes. 

The author finds in those days that intervene be- 
tween the Popham and Gilbert fiasco of 1607-08 and 
the outbreak of the Second Indian War, 1690, — 
which drove the English settler back over his ventur- 
ous trail and for a half-generation made the settle- 
ments east of York into blood-spots of savage re- 
prisal, — the inspiration for his contemplated labor. 
It is a field not overmuch tilled. Here or there some 
local writer has essayed the historian, but only after 
a most desultory and impoverished fashion. The 
adequate story of the beginnings on the Maine Coast 
does not yet seem to have been told; but with such 
ravellings as he has been able to gather among the 
musty shreds of men's doings through the middle of 
the seventeenth century, the author has rewound 
the old bobbins, and with his feet upon the treadles, 
shuttle in hand, the sleys move up and down and the 
web has assumed already some considerable jjropor- 



14 AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 

tions. He has dipped his yarns in the dyes that most 
appealed to him, and hopes, the fabric complete, that 
the student of history will say of it that it was prop- 
erly mordanted. 

As for matters of history, the author has been over 
a considerable space, meagre as it would seem to be. 
He is free to say that, as to the facts stated, they may 
be taken as authentic history, the judgment of the 
captious or opinionated critic to the contrary not- 
withstanding. His work is the result of years of care- 
ful and curious reading, much arduous research, and 
patient comparison of every writer of pioneer history 
— none of whom, as it seems to the author, is wholly 
to be relied upon. He has not seen fit to encumber 
his work with numerous citations and foot-notes, — 
as the manner of some is whose erudition, acquired or 
appropriated, is perhaps their only recommendation 
to the top shelves in one's library, — preferring to 
leave something to his critics. 

Historians are not infallible. Not a few are guilty 
of palpable errors; and in the absence of documentary 
evidence — for it is true that much of written his- 
tory is hardly more than hearsay, and more lacks the 
verification of tradition — it has seemed wisdom to 
take the middle course. It has required something 
of skill to steer between Charybdis and Scylla amid 
the varying winds. Whether the author has been 
able to do so, having reference to the prescriptive 
rights of others to this particular domain who insist 
upon the acceptance of their dicta, willy-nilly, is to 
be determined only after a careful reading of the 



AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 15 

volumes which he proposes to entitle, generally, 
"Maine Pioneer Settlements." The plan is to treat 
the localities separately, making the story of each a 
volume by itself. There is sufficient material for a 
dozen volumes; but as the author is not writing a 
genealogical gazetteer or compiling a collection of 
heterogeneous "papers," he reserves to leave the 
rubbish-pile undisturbed, and to use only what to him 
seems essential to the purpose in hand. 

If hitherto he has not assumed to enter the field of 
local history which is to be regarded as the heritage 
of every inquiring mind, or has laid himself open in 
some quarters to the charge of presumptuousness in 
essaying to lend some color of interest to the doings 
of far-off days that have been embalmed in the pro- 
ceedings of one historical society or another, it is not 
because he has not been a student of Maine history, 
but rather because until latterly the opportunity has 
not olTered to tell to others the story of the lean days 
and the men who lived in them, as it appealed to 
him. He has essayed, however, to relate it after his 
own fashion, his only censor being his literary con- 
science, his sincere admiration for the actors who 
played their heroic parts to perhaps indifferent audi- 
ences, and his desire to be helpful to the general 
reader. 

Maine draws no small portion of her glory from the 
days in which her people had no time for the chi- 
caneries that not only belittle the men who practise 
them, but make them ridiculous. Notwithstanding 
the obstacles against which all men who have a per- 



16 AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 

i^onal belief are liable to take a tilt, the author has 
not consciously allowed himself to be tainted by 
prejudice or bias. He has tried to tell his story fairly; 
to accord to the French explorer and the Jesuit 
propagandist, as to the English adventurer and set- 
tler, the Episcopal formalist and the Puritan poli- 
tician, the credit of their several achievements; to 
weigh impartially their worth to the times in which 
they lived. If he has allowed his imagination the 
saddle at times, it is because the sober drab of an 
obsolete environment suggested the need of color. 
History, as history, is a prosy thing — except to 
our Dryasdust, who prefers his fish without a spray 
of lemon-juice or a sip of Madeira, and his steak 
overdone, without its garnishing of watercress. To 
such the author's present work will undoubtedly 
seem a puerile innovation. 

The opening of the Second Indian War closes this 
relation, as the author has in projection an ^'Account 
of the Indian Wars of New England," — a work 
which, to him, seems important, — to be comprised 
in two volumes, to appear as soon after the comple- 
tion of this series as may be. The material is abun- 
dant and inspiring. 

From the author's point of view the past is poten- 
tial in its relation to the present and future; and it 
is worth while to halt for a moment in the mad race 
of Commercialism, which seems to have possessed 
itself of the present-day thought, for a backward 
look, if for nothing more than to verify the purpose 
of our living. We certainly live in a great country. 



AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 17 

We have accomplished great things; but the towering 
oak was once a tiny acorn. The day of small things is 
not to be forgotten; but were the pioneer days so in- 
significant, after all? To one acquainted with the 
story of their hardship and denial it would seem an 
age of humble heroisms, when men and women made 
history unconsciously, whose loyalty and patriotism, 
shorn by the lapse of time of their roughnesses, sug- 
gest the soft luminousness of the breaking dawn. 

It was the Scotch dominie Baillie who said of the 
English Puritans at the time when they were going, 
many of them, from the Old World to the New, 
''They are a people inclinable to singularities; their 
humor is to differ from all the world, and shortly 
from themselves" — a bit of humor at once wise and 
prophetic. Out of this inclination was evolved the 
Yankee, — the survival of the fittest. 

The record of the English settler in America is a 
notable one. It was a record of stress, of unacknowl- 
edgment and repression; but the failure to get the 
world's ear while one is living is the price the world 
makes genius pay for posthumous celebrity. Our an- 
cestry is best known by what it has made possible 
to us. As the world goes, one rarely comes to his own 
in his lifetime, and easy appreciation is the fame of 
the moment. A prophet is no prophet who does not 
live ahead of his time. One plants; another reaps. 
Recalling Goethe's letter to Carlyle in the latter's 
early days of literary craftsmanship, wherein he 
wrote, ''It may be that I shall hear much more of 
you," if the reader of this present volume shall feel 



18 



AUTHOR'S FOREWORD 



impelled to go on to those which are to follow, the 
author will be abundantly satisfied. 

H. M. S. 




i^*^..-;'{4 




PREFACE 




E Romance of Casco Bay is a book of 

free-hand sketches. Trutliful enough 

in their setting and local coloring, 

they are not offered to the public as 

history, but appear here much as did 

their originals to the author when he 

saw them from day to day, and 

when more familiar with the purlieus 

of Casco Bay than has been his good 

fortune in later years. These old 

things have the fascinating mystery 

,and romance of bygone days, and a 

___^ bygone race; and are not the less 

delightful to recall because they look 

out over a sheet of water, the beauty and charm of 

which are unrivalled by any other part of the Maine 

Coast, — a sea-front unequalled by any other from 

19 



20 



PREFACE 



Quoddy Head to St. Augustine, in its wild, stormy 
grandeur and windy headlands, or in its countless 
islands and roadsteads asleep in its summer sunshine. 

THE AUTHOR. 





and:\iarks 



Prelude. 

Caseoe. 

Stogunimor. 

A Relic. 

Harrow House. 

A Wayside Inn. 

An Old Fish-Yard. 

Mountjoy's Island. 

The Wizard of Casco. 

The Troll of Richmon's Island. 

The Passing of Bagnall. 



/ THE 



V 




Page 

Portrait of Author Frontis'piece 

Headband, Cape Elizabeth 11 

Tailpiece, Menikoe 17 

Headband. Cape Porpoise 19 

Tailpiece 20 

Initial 21 

Headband, Ulustrations 23 

Tailpiece 27 

Headband, Old Tnkey Bridge 35 

Initial 35 

Map of Casco 36 

Glen Cliff 38 

A Fisher Hut 41 

Longfellow's Birthplace 44 

Simonton Cove 53 

Fort Gorges 56 

Old Fort Halifax 64 

23 



24 ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

An Old Garrison House 67 

A Bit of Deering Park 69 

The Bay 73 

Th' Cox House 74 

The McLellan House 75 

A Fruiterer 77 

The Harbor 78 

Off Martin's Point 80 

Tailpiece, Bird Island Light 82 

Headband, A Glimpse of Scarborough 85 

Initial 85 

Autographs, Gorges, Cleeve, and Tucker 86 

Norombegua 92 

Rasle's Chapel Bell 94 

A Bit of Spurwinke 96 

Black Point 96 

To Pine Point 97 

Near Stamford Ledge 100 

A Fine Old Town 101 

Pur Poodack 102 

Tailpiece, Cleeve Monument 103 

Headband, Ye Burying-ground 107 

Initial 107 

Fore River 109 

The Old Shipyard 112 

The Bridge Over the Canal 113 

TheSaltmill 115 

Odd Peaked Gables 116 

Some Quaint Headstones 118 

The Means Sidehoard 120 

The Tate House 122 

Door of Tate House 124 

The Buffet 126 

An Old Sawmill 130 



ILLUSTRATIONS 25 

Page 

The Tate Homestead 134 

Haunted 135 

Tailpiece 136 

Headband, The Glimmering Tide-river 139 

Initial 139 

The Grist-mill 140 

The Meadow 144 

A Vision of Harrow House 145 

The Site of Harrow House 146 

The Rasle Copper Spoon 147 

The King's Arrow 148 

The Rasle Treasure Chest 151 

Fickett House 153 

Patrick House 154 

Crucifix found at Norridgewack 155 

The Westhrook Trencher 158 

From the Windows 159 

The Spinning-wheel 162 

Tailpiece 163 

Headband, an English Inn 167 

Initial, Broad Tavern Sign 167 

Shadowy Eaves 168 

An Old Rookery 170 

Approach to Broad Tavern 171 

The First Sign of The Broads 174 

Broad Tavern 177 

Bradley Church and Parsonage 182 

Wayside Inn, Sudbury 182 

Corner of an Old Kitchen 183 

An Ancient Hostelry 186 

An Old Flaxwheel 190 

Tailpiece 194 

Headband, An Old Fishy ard 197 

Initial 197 



26 ILLUSTRATIONS 

Page 

A Fish-house 200 

A Lobster Cannery 202 

Lobster Grounds 204 

Wrecked 208 

Site of Greele Tavern 211 

The Old Elm Tavern 212 

Scammell 214 

Portland Head 218 

Trefethren's 223 

A Fishing Schooner 226 

A Banker 228 

Tailpiece 231 

Headband, Along tJie Sands 235 

Initial 235 

Joneses 236 

An Old Settler 238 

One of Nature's Court-yards 241 

An Island Road 243 

Monhegan 249 

Tailpiece, Island Cottages 253 

Headband, Sand Dunes 257 

Initial 257 

In Trouble 260 

A Sternly- featured Face 261 

The Low-roofed Farmhouse 264 

On the Rocks 269 

Alewive Brook 273 

A Bit of Scarborough 278 

From Wells to York 286 

The Witch-trott 289 

Beadle's Tavern 291 

A Corner of Old Salem 297 

Parris' Pasture 302 

On the Road to Quamphegan 307 



ILLUSTRATIONS 27 

Page 

Tailpiece 313 

Headband, A Bit of Richmon's Island 317 

Initial : 307 

Casco Bay, Scarborough Marsli 319 

On the Edge of the Marsh 321 

Alongshore 323 

A Bit of Jie Old Country 332 

Tailpiece 333 

Headband, Among the Dunes 337 

Initial 337 

White Head 340 

Richmon's Island 340 

Ebb-tide 341 

A Sketch 343 

Tailpiece 348 




PRELUDE 



The sea in the offing, white with foam, 

Breaks over the outer bar; 
Beyond the gray sand-dunes, nearing home, 

Is the ghnt of a ship's tall spar. 

Above the surf, with the sea-bird's scream, 
Comes the sound of a loosened sail; 

Tlirough the slow dusk burns a ruddy gleam 
Of hght from the larboard rail. 

So, in and out, on the ebb and flow 

Of the tide, the ships sail past, 
Till, with folded wings, the winds droop low. 

And the day is done at last. 



But days that are dead are full of pain, — 
So the Reaper sings the Song, — 

The blossom falls with the ripened grain 
That swayed in the wind so long. 

Yet, now, as then, beyond the low shore 

And the mists that overlie. 
The ships sail over the azure floor, 

And silently down the sky. 

And never the sunset mystery 
Fades out with the autumn day 

But glimpses come with the sounding sea 
Of others so far away. 



31 



CASCOE 







■ilil- 



^^■J'?/'' 




CASCOE 

'HAT I am about to relate is not alto- 
gether history. It is in part so 
old, that one can hardly tell what 
part is history and what is legend. 
Two hundred and fifty years have 
yellowed its story; and the mem- 
ory of man is somewhat to be 
relied upon in places where all that is 
authentic has not been printed in the 
books. Years have mellowed the tragedies of old 
Cascoe into tales that children read by the winter 
fireside; or that grown-up folk read by the seashore 
thereabout on a summer day, environed by so much 
of the old-time scenery of 

"Winding shores, 
Of narrow capes, and isles which he 
Slumbering to ocean's lullaby," 

in which their plots were laid. 

We shall have to do without the orchestral prelude 
that ushers in the play in a well-regulated playhouse, 
for the showman is tinkling his bell, and the curtain 
will rise in a moment. A drama is never so attrac- 

35 



36 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



live as when well staged ; and with others, I find my- 
self wondering what the scene is to be like. But 
the curtain is up at last, and I find pictured across 
its ample stage an 

"Old and quiet town, 
The ghostly sails that out at sea 
Flapped their white wings of mystery; 
The beaches glimmering in the sun, 
And the low wooded capes that run 
Into the sea-mist, north and south," 

and an island-studded bay that has a peculiar fasci- 
nation for the lover of the picturesque in nature. It 




is a real bay, with real water and real ships plough- 
ing through it; and a real wind puffing out their 
sails; a rare bit of scenery, which lacks not a single 
quality to make its beauty perfect. Coves and inlets 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 37 

mingle their outlines of tree and reef, inextricably; 
and rocky bluffs, bold and threatening, near at hand, 
shorten into low relief as they recede into a far-away 
perspective, their gray tones blending with their in- 
verted reflections in the placid waters at their feet, 
giving to them the soft, dreamy effects so common 
to sea landscapes. The irregular, zig-zag-like mark- 
ings of the island and mainland shores, jutting be- 
tween and by each other, abound in fantastic shapes 
and broken lines, which add to the charm of the 
constantly varying landscape. 

Two centuries and a half ago, a day's sail from old 
Pentagoet southward, would have brought the voy- 
ager to the easterly boundary of this sheet of water, 
the northeast wall of this bay; which, 

" Stretching its shrunk arm out to all the winds 
And relentless smiting of the waves," 

makes a slim, ragged peninsula trending to the south- 
ward, better known in Colonial times as Pejepscot. 
Still southward, some eight leagues away, is its 
southern land-wall, where perhaps we have pitched 
our tents; and lying between, dotting the blue sea, 
is an island for every day in the year. In summer 
the cattle may be seen upon some of the larger of 
them cropping their scanty herbage; but in winter 
they are for the most part deserted. Parts of these 
island shores are ragged and broken into sharp 
needle-like shapes, that at low water resemble huge 
teeth; their extremities are slim outreaching arms of 



38 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



rock, black with seaweed, stretching far into the 
waters that chafe and fret themselves into fleecy 

. y ,Nij' whiteness about 
these rude bar- 
riers of Nature. 
►Steep cliffs end 
in abrupt preci- 
l)ices that tower 
above the tallest 
masts ; and up 
their sides shoot 
the straight 
spruces, tall, 
a r r o w y , their 
tops crowned 
with sparse foli- 
age. Here are 
the quarries of 
the b r o a d- 
winged, white- 
headed eagles, 
whose rights of 
piscary are older 
than the most ancient 
/ of charters. One may 
see, any day of the year, 
the eagles hovering about the 
bay in search of plunder, watching 
the fish-hawks and ospreys at their 
sport among the islands and roadsteads, only to rob 
them when they have made an especially good catch. 




YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 39 

When fish are scarce and the eagle's fishermen fail 
him, a plmnp sea-gull will whet his appetite as well. 

Clmnps of willows follow the yellow sands as they 
curve backward from the cliffs, the bright green of 
their foliage standing out in sharp contrast to the 
darker tones of the dwarf pines and spruces; their 
long, drooping branches are wet with the spray of 
every incoming tide. White sails glide into the 
shadows of the headlands, or fade away below the 
horizon, lending the romance of the ships to the in- 
tensity of color which pervades the outlook. The 
atmosphere is clear, and Nature's lines are sharply 
drawn. The high lights are strong and the shadows 
deep, with well-defined gradations. They are like 
musical notes strung upon a staff, so perfect is the 
harmony of color that greets the eye. 

Only the centuries have left their footsteps about 
the worn crags and ledges, along the seaward sides 
of which the scanty tufts of spruce, gray and stunted, 
are twisted into ungainly shapes by the storms of 
the Atlantic ; while over their gray reaches of broken 
shingle is strewn the debris of wreck, and driftwood, 
and floating kelp. These bold shores have wit- 
nessed many a tumult of storm-driven wave racing 
inward with the flying rain and sleet; but the same 
granite buttresses are here as of the post-glacial pe- 
riod, in all their silent pride and massive strength, 
only a bit more shattered and worn, their polished 
walls telling of many a Titan shock. 

A glance at the southeastern coast of Maine shows 
this sheet of dark water to be, if not the largest in- 



40 Y^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

dentation of the series of bays and salt-water inlets 
which give to the whole coast its irregular contour 
and marked characteristics of rugged strength and 
attractiveness, possessed of a more delicate charm 
and fascination than either the Penobscot or the 
Passamaquoddy, with its islands, their outlying ledges 
and low, rocky reefs anchored so thickly about, long, 
narrow and thickly wooded, every one of them trend- 
ing to the southwest. This very plainly indicates 
the course of the immense glacier, that, ages ago, 
left its footprints, not only among these sea-girt 
rocks, but along a line hence that would take one 
over the highest of New Hampshire's AMiite Hills, 
where other footprints of the same might}^ force are 
as plainly to be seen. 

At the Pejepscot, or easterly end of this bay, these 
islands, together with Harpswell Neck, resemble a 
huge hand outspread in the midst of the sea; and 
as one sails down through them to the southward, 
the snowy summits of the far-off New Hampshire 
mountains are plainly discernible, forming the extreme 
western horizon. About Harpswell Neck, so the 
legend runs, was the old-time cruising-ground of the 
"Dead Ship." The ill-boding prophecy of its appear- 
ing, but a few years ago, was wont to terrify the credu- 
lous crones and fisher-wives of Orr's Island, who 
watched for its coming with the keenest anxiety and 
dread. 

"Old men still walk the Isle of Orr 

Who tell her date and name ; 
Old shipwrights sit in Freeport yards, 

Who hewed her oaken frame." 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 41 

And now, when the boats are late, the olden tale 
comes to mind; and the gray phantom of a ship 
beating slowly landward, with silent and deserted 
decks, leaves its weird picture on the imagination. 
Bright skies and cool seas dispel such vagaries; but 
with the dark lowering storm swept along the wooded 
headlands, and over the barren sands before the fu- 
rious winds, the vision of boats among the breakers 
and of desperate men struggling with the merciless 
waters is too often one of stern reality. 

Along the bluffs and sandy dunes of the shore that 
vniwinds like a tangled thread among the Cascoe 
islands, are isolated fish- 
ing hamlets, — brown, 
weather-beaten houses 1' 1> 
among the rocks, - — '■ ^^ 




often perched high ^,_^ -^WM 
up against a ^'iH 

background -'•■■-"^^^Mx/' ' . ,^, 
of scanty birch "^^^^^^ kzr^j^^-s^ w 

growth. With the "^^^-E^^^^- 33*===^ 

fishing-boats drawn up on 

the sands below, and the quaintly-dressed figures 
of their dwellers, they are exceedingly picturesque 
and afford fine studies for the painter. A ship 
with full-blown sails against the sky, a sea that 
looks "wet," — with such inimitable art are the 
colors laid on, — is a beautiful thing; but there is 
nothing human about it. An old interior with all 
the paraphernalia of everyday living, with a touch 
of humanity about it, a child at play among the 



42 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

knotted seines, a net-mender, a bar of sunshine, 
is a poem, with all the rhythm and speech and 
sympathetic quality of poetic expression. 

"When the tide is out, the yellow marsh-grasses 
bend under the breeze. Flocks of sea-birds scurry 
over the odorous flats. Here and there, dun-colored 
stacks of marsh hay with sharpened domes, break the 
monotony of these salt levels. Wide-mouthed rivers 
stretch seaward; the broad mouth of the Presumscot 
makes an arm of the bay; farther south is Casco 
River fringed with black wharves, once the hermit 
settlement of Ingersoll. It is no wonder these beau- 
tiful waters, with their numerous coves, and inlets, 
and snug places for the sheltering of vessels, attracted 
the attention of the storm-beaten voyager of the 
early days. No doubt then, as now, the bay was 
possessed of the same delicate tones of light and shade, 
its grays, browns, yellows and purples, its emerald or 
slaty waters, its wood-embossed landscapes of ever- 
varying attraction. In these clays, frequently on 
summer afternoons, dense low-hanging mists gather 
about the roadsteads, choking them entirely; throw- 
ing across the gateways of the offings, bars of dulled 
silver; or slowly creep between the islands, and with 
stealthy, hesitating movement roll away inland, 
leaving the worn crags and gray ledges more sharply 
defined than ever in the strong, clear sunlight. The 
dancing waters, the soft blue sky pictured with flying 
clouds that one sees only by the sea, and the snowy 
sails of the ships beating in, or out the narrow 
channels, are but parts of a picture to be seen from 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 43 

the heights of the ukl town that has grown up within 
the shelter of this southernmost headland. 

From the Merrimac to the Kennebec extended the 
Laconia Grant. It was a goodly country. Hither 
came many an adventurous man from the Massachu- 
setts settlements, the tide setting noticeably to the 
eastward before the Plymouth Colony had obtained 
its foothold. Richmond's Island, Monhegan and 
Pemaquid were then prominent fishing stations, and 
had their influence in opening this territory to men 
of the type of George Cleeve, who, if ancient report 
be true, was a man of brave parts, shrewdness, grit, 
and untiring energy, and a considerable politician; 
for, outwardly a good subject of the king, he found no 
difficulty in espousing the cause of Cromwell, His 
service in Cromwell's army, — for he went from 
Cascoe to take up arms for the Commonwealth, — 
proved a profitable venture to himself, for it strength- 
ened his title from Gorges by his purchase of the 
old charter rights from Rigby, one of Cromwell's 
officers. 

When Cleeve returned to Cascoe, there came with 
him a young fellow who became an inmate of his 
household. There was another who became inter- 
ested in this newcomer, we may believe more for 
companionship's sake than through any warmer in- 
terest, — for it is quite likely pretty Betsey Cleeve 
was as demure as a Puritan maid of those times 
should be. Alas for demureness and maidenly sim- 
plicity! It was not long before Betsey's heart went 
into the clearings with her lover, while his remained 



44 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



with the red-cheeked girl, spinning wool and flax, or 
weaving the family homespun in the cumbrous 
wooden-loom. It is not unlikely this colonial court- 
ship went as smoothly, and pleasantly, in the firelight 
of this log-sheltered hearth of two centuries and a 
half ago, smothered in deeps of drifting snows, as it 
does to-day within the parlors of the stately brown- 
stone fronts that overlook the site of this first love- 
making in these parts. Betsey's lover had one ad- 




LONGFELLOWS BIRTHPLACE 



vantage J^oung men do not have nowadays : there 
was no "other fellow" constantly fanning the flame 
of his uneasiness; and there is no intimation that the 
course of his affection did not run smoothly, — for it 
is a recorded fact that Elizabeth Cleeve became Mrs. 
Michael Mitton in due time, the first English mar- 
riage in this section: a very interesting event, in 
which the whole neighborhood, which then consisted 
of two families, no doubt actively participated. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 45 

Mitton was more fortunate in his romancing than 
the brave Standish. 

In the case of John Winter against George Cleeve, 
one of the earUest and most important legal con- 
tests heard in the Courts of Provincial Maine, the 
deposition of William Gibbins, Mariner, dated Sep- 
tember 8th, 1640, "saith that the River which runs 
vp by Mr. Arthur Mackworthes house was called 
by the name of Casco River for seventeene yeares 
gone or there about e." 

From this it would seem that Gibbins was here 
about 1623. As Mr. Baxter says, it was ''c^uite 
likely that Gibbins was one of Levett's men, and 
perhaps one of the ten, whom Levett left in charge 
of the ' strong house ' which he built — perhaps at 
Machegonie — before his return home." 

This "Casco River" was the Presumpscot. Here 
about 1635, Mackworth built a house. He was 
undoubtedly a companion of "factor Vines," who 
came over in 1630, to take up his grant at Saco. 
On the northeastern bank of the Presumpscot, was 
a point of land which the Indians called Menickoe; 
and it w\as here that the Mackworth manse was built, 
and which he dignified by the name of "Newton." 
It was a spacious house for the times according to 
tradition, and beautiful for location, — a breezy and 
sightly spot, commanding a wide view of this bay of 
many islands. Its Indian name was Menickoe, which 
in the language of the aborigine, meant the place 
of pines; and, although, in these days, one sees 
naught but fertile fields, and scattered growths of 



46 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

(loeiduous trees, and runs of alders and dwarf birches; 
yet, in the time of Mackworth, here was, d()u})t- 
less, a pine-chid rib of land that broke the low-rol- 
ling mists of the bay apart, to send them up the 
Presumpscot on the flood of the tide, or eastward, 
Pejepscot way. It was an enchanting, and an ideal 
country; and here Mackworth spent his days in 
gentlemanly leisure; meanwhile bringing up a nu- 
merous family, and doing a deal of entertaining. Mack- 
worth was famous for his gracious hospitality, and 
Mistress Mackworth was a most charming helpmeet. 
It was he who made the delivery of seizin to Cleeve 
and Tucker in 1637, by "twig and turf," according 
to the old English custom, of what is now the charm- 
ing city of Portland, or rather that part originally 
incorporated as such. 

Mackworth's occupancy of these Presumpscot 
lands is still kept in mind by the rehabilitation of 
Meckinoe into the corruption of Mackworth, — 
namely, commonplace Mackey, by which cognomen, 
the point and an island adjacent, are now known. 
And here is Martin's Point, where is now estab- 
lished the Government Marine Hospital, and which 
recalls Widow Martin ; for here was the Martin farm, 
where young Benjamin Martin was killed by the 
Indians in one of their skulking excursions here- 
about. 

Cleeve may well be called the pioneer of this 
part of the Province, coming here with Tucker, as 
he did, in 1633, from Spurwinke two years earlier 
than Mackworth. Tucker was in a way a subordi- 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 47 

nate or servant of C'leeve, who later brought a 
suit for an accounting for .services in the Saco Court. 
Not nuich is heard of him after a year or so of the 
sojourning here. Cleeve seems to have been the 
man of affairs. Before the coming of Cleeve and 
Tucker, however, another had preceded them; for 
there was a goodly liouse on one of the islands adja- 
cent to the mouth of Fore River, the tide stream 
which Gibbins confounded with the Presumpscot. 
This house was built by Christopher Levett, who 
came over here in 1623 in a vessel of his own, and 
who sailed up the Presumpscot, perhaps to the Falls. 
He made a considerable exploration of the coast 
hence, to the southward as far as the mouth of the 
Piscataqua, where he was the guest of one Thom])son, 
perhaps the earliest settler about the immediate mouth 
of that picturesquely beautiful stream. He made 
written memoranda of his impressions of the country 
and his experiences. He had a commission, in which 
Capt. Robert Gorges, Capt. Francis West, and the 
Governor of New Plymouth were associated with him, 
"for the ordering and governing of New England." 
He came as one clothed wdth authority; but there 
was but little opportunity for the exercise of such, 
with only the defunct enterprise of Popham at 
Pemaquid, and the straggling hamlet on Cape Cod; 
with the bare possil^ility that Neale, as the agent for 
Gorges and Mason, mider their patent of August, 1622, 
might have been laying the stone foundations of 
Mason's house around Quamphegan Falls on the 
Piscatac^ua. Undoubtedly Levett preceded Neale by 



48 y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

some time, as Levett was the guest of Thompson at 
Odiorne's Point; and Thompson left his cabin imme- 
diately upon Neale's coming, of which the latter took 
possession for himself. 

One of his first acts upon his coming to Casco, 
was to ingratiate himself into the good graces of the 
Queen of Quack, — in other words, he procured a 
grant, upon his arrival, of the site of Casco Neck 
and four islands in the harbor, from the wife of the 
Sagamore of this locality. The "Sagamore's wife" is 
the " queen," undoubtedly, with whom Levett sailed 
to Quack, along with the prince, the dog, and the 
kettle. Levett gave this place the name of York; 
and Charles I. recognized it as York, as well, in the 
interest which he subsequently took in the affairs of 
Levett. It was here at Casco, and without doubt, 
on one of the four islands at the entrance to the 
harbor, that he built his house. There was a house 
on House Island for years before Cleeve came here, 
and there was no other house mentioned; therefore 
it is entirely rational to say that the improvements 
on House Island were those of Levett. Levett says 
he fortified his house. If he was so cautious as that, 
he could not, in the exercise of good judgment have 
selected a better, or safer, location. This forsaken 
cabin was used by fishermen for years after its aban- 
donment by Levett's ten men who were left behind. 
It was in a degree isolated, and of limited area, and 
swept the harbor in all directions. 

It must have been of some considerable dimen- 
sions, to accommodate its garrison of ten, who were 



Yi'^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 49 

to see to its care and protection while he should sail 
to England for his family, and make his return. 
He makes a record that he "fortified it in a reason- 
able good fashion." He seems to have had not much 
knowledge of the natives, even by hearsay; for, by 
his relation it is evident he expected some inter- 
ference. Levett's intent was evident. He found 
the country attractive; and he hatl decided to make 
it the scene of his future adventurings. That he 
did not return, was by reason of the unsettled state 
of international affairs between England and Spain. 
After some delay of a year or more, and owing to 
his inability to enlist the royal aid, he became dis- 
couraged. In 1627, he got the royal ear; and Charles 
I. ordered the churches of York to take a contri- 
bution to assist him in the building of a new city in 
the land which Levett had spyed out. This city 
was to be called York. After that, the story of 
Levett is involved in obscurity, and nothing more 
is heard of him. His men at Casco scattered, the 
residence at House Island, set up with so many 
fond hopes, and in which he hoped to install his 
family, was given over to absence, and decay. But 
his labor was not lost; for that fair city of York 
which Charles saw building over-seas, became the 
famed Gorgeana of Accomintas; and it was about 
the waters of York River instead of Casco Bay, that 
these projected activities were to be in some degree 
realized. 

At this time, and for twoscore years after the 
coming of Cleeve, here was the wilderness of the 



50 YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 

aborigine. At best, Casco Neck was a thin and 
scattered hamlet, even as late as the beginning of 
the Indian forays of 1675; but in the days when 
Winter and Cleeve were pleading and repleading 
before Thomas Gorges, a half-dozen log-houses, squat- 
ted, here and there, between Fore River and Indian 
Cove, made up the tale of its inhabitants. It is a 
good three miles from one point to the other, and 
few of these huts were within sight each of the other. 
Except, where the conflagrations, started from the 
Indian camp-fires, had over-nm the woodlands, or 
with here and there, a rough-set opening where the 
neighboring tril^es grew their maize, the remainder 
of the comitry was an unbroken and unexplored 
wilderness. Casco Neck was ahnost an island at 
high tide, with an area of considerable extent; and 
from the water's edge, on the harbor front, the 
dense woods crept up over its somewhat elevated 
spine, to dip again to the flats of Back Cove. Amid 
these forests were swamps, which afforded ample 
lurking place for the savage. 

Recalling Joc5dyn's quaint relations of his sport- 
ing exploits along with Michael Mitton, and how 
a red shred of cloth was as good a bait as any, for 
the taking of fish, one can imagine these old-time 
worthies, like Cammock, and his contemporaries 
among the adjacent settlements, with their muskets 
and fishing-lines, starting out after fish, fowl, and 
larger game; jaunting up and down these shores, or 
through the woods of Cape Elizabeth, or the Neck. 
And how abimdant a supply that must have been, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 51 

when the herring were piled in windrows along [\w 
Scarborough sands, so that one walked through 
them ''half-way to his knees!" 

The wild pigeons flew in clouds to darken the 
sun; and when the sun was down, they went to roost 
among the forest trees, loading their branches so 
they broke under their w(Mght, and the settlers 
gathered them by torchlight, in bags. They were 
the pests of the early rye-fields; and, after a time, 
were netted like fish. The streams, unpolluted by 
the refuse from the sa\Mnills, or factory chemicals, 
were thronged with salmon; and the red spot trout 
were so plenty that they could be caught with the 
hand, or kicked ashore with the foot. A bear-steak, 
or a haunch of venison, could be had by a shot 
almost from one of these cabin thresholds. The 
coves and inlets along the island or mainland shores, 
were the breeding-places of the succulent lobster, 
and were to be had for the picking up at every shal- 
low tide. Mackerel and cod followed the shallows 
in schools; and on Back Cove that ran from Sandy 
Point westward, toward the Capisic River, and up 
into what was later, Brackett's woods, was the al- 
most continuous sound of duck's wings along the 
water; for here were excellent feeding-grounds for 
sea-fowl; and among the grasses of the wide marshes 
they bred in countless numbers. Here was a hun- 
ter's paradise; and had it not been for this super- 
abundance of natural food-su]jply, the settler's larder 
would have many a time run short. I have heard 
old men relate, how, in their boyhood, a bushel- 



52 r^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

basket of largo trout were taken from the brook in 
a few dips of a coarse hand-net; and which were 
pickled, or corned, in barrels, mackerel-fashion, and 
stored for winter use. Nor was this all. Every 
meadow had its otter-slide; and every brook, or con- 
siderable stream, its beaver-dam; and the fur-trade 
was most profitable. With the predatory wolf, the 
prowling catamount, and the treacherous, cat-like 
lynx, came an added element of personal danger 
that lent an adventurous cast to this frontier life. 

Richmond's Island, through all these days, was 
an important trading station where numerous men 
were employed, and a quotation from Winter's ac- 
counts is suggestive, — 

£ s. d. 
" For 95 ducks at 4d. p duck from Benjamin 

atwell is 1118 

" foull from Myhell Myttinge of Casko, geese 

at Is. pece, 4d. a pace for ducks, & 2d. 

a pece for taill, which amounted to 8 13 

".32 ducks at 4d. p duck is los. 8d., & 14 

geese at Is. p goose is 14s., from John 

Bouden of Blacke pointe, all is 14 8" 

Epicurean times, when such gastronomic delecta- 
tions were possible; and at, ye gods, what prices, 
when a pair of wild fowl in these days is cheap at 
a dollar and a half! 

In these days one may spend his time between 
sun and sun, scouring the fiats of Fore River, from 
its wide-flaring mouth, to where the silver thread of 
the Capisic comes trickling down to meet the tide; 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



53 



or beat up the meadows beyond Martin's Point, and 
one may hardly see a blue-winged teal, a stray rail, 
or a snipe on ragged wing. 

Mitton became a favorite with, his wife's father, 
for the latter gave him considerable grants of land, 
notably of Peak's Island, which in the early days went 
by the name of Momitjoy's, and known still earlier 
as Pond Island, I believe. Cleeve gave hun a 




SIMONTON COVE 



large tract of land on the Cape Elizabeth side of 
Fore River, w^here Mitton lived for some time. This 
is now identified as the Widgery Farm. It was on 
a pomt reaching into this stream, designated by 
Willis, as Clark's; but Mr. Baxter says this is an 
error. 

There was no need in those days of an Annanias 
Club, with only the famous trio of Mitton, Jocylyn, 
and Cammock for story-tellers. These men were 
intimates; and their visits back and forth were of 



64 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

great frequency. The distance between Casco and 
Black Point was not far, with a fair wind; and with 
plenty of aqua-vitse, a crackling fore-stick, and such 
jolly fellowship, what roars of mirth, stories of Mer- 
man and Triton, adventurous and startling exploits, 
and marvels of escape and dangers, real or imag- 
ined, set the rafters of these rude shelters a-quiver! 
Jocylyn hints at some of these tales in his journal, 
but they are only the bare threads from which the 
original webs were woven. 

Men build their camps in the deeps of the wil- 
derness in these days ; but their experiences are hardly 
up to an expurgated edition of the racy originals 
with which Mitton and his acquaintance were once 
so familiar. 

With now and then a new settler, the hamlet grew 
slowly. The Indians came and went; bringing in 
their furs, bartering them for "kill-devil," and such 
other things as answered their needs, or their fancy; 
and this place came to be a considerable trading- 
post, which aroused great jealousy in the mind of 
John Winter, the agent of Trelawney at Richmond's 
Island. 

The first dwellings at Casco were around Mach- 
igonne Point, east of Clay Cove. If the curious 
would be better satisfied with the exact locality, 
he will find this old stamping-ground about the new 
terminal station of the Grand Trunk Railway. East- 
ward was the home of Mackworth. Richard Mar- 
tin was at Martin's Point; and from thence keep- 
ing to the southward, and following the trend of the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 55 

shore around the base of the Western Promenade, 
and up Fore River and across to Stroudwater, was 
the course of the early extension of the settlement 
of Casco Neck. Across Fore River, in the vicinity 
of Fort Preble, was Purpooduc; and it was here the 
Phippens, Whites, Stannafords, Penleys, and Wal- 
lises lived. At Spurwinke, lived Robert Jordan, who 
ministered spiritually to the contingent at Winter's 
trading station; and who married the only daughter 
of Winter; and who, thereby, through his wife, en- 
joyed the emoluments of his father-in-law's absorp- 
tion of the Trelawney Grants, the first land-steal of 
which we have any record in this new country ; unless 
the aborigine may have had the original right by 
preemption. According to Willis, five or six fam- 
ilies occupied the territory between the eastern and 
western extremities of what is now the city proper. 
Cleeve's was to the east. Mitton was in the west; 
and Tucker's house was between the two. Falmouth 
town was of large area. All of these isolated locali- 
ties, with Spurwinke as the western limit, were in- 
cluded in its jurisdiction. This was the status of 
the place about 1675, the total number of its families 
being about forty. 

At this time, which was 1675, the thirteen settle- 
ments in the Dominion of Maine contained a popu- 
lation of perhaps six thousand, widely dispersed, and, 
for that reason, miable to successfully repel savage 
attack. After long years of peaceful intercourse a 
tragedy was to be enacted, whose run depended upon 
French muskets, French intrigue, and Indian savag- 



56 Y^^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

ery. The stars in this real tragedy were all of local 
reputation except when Baron Castine left his Penob- 
scot wigwam to play some leading part in the mas- 
sacre that was sure to come. 

King Philip, uneasy and jealous of the English 
settler, was slowly perfecting plans for his extermina- 
tion. The English, guilty of constant encroachment 
upon the hunting-grounds of the Indians, had afforded 
sufficient provocation, which was augmented by the 
restrictions imposed upon the settlers by the General 
Court of Massachusetts, prohibiting the sale of arms 




FORT GORGES 



to the Indians, or the repairing of them for use by 
the Indians. 

The Indian, after thirty years of acquaintance with 
the English nmsket, had become a stranger to the use 
of the bow and flint-head arrow. It was impossible 
to undo his education in the use of firearms. His 
living depended in great part upon the unerring aim 
of his musket. It was too late. Messengers carried 
the news of the coming of the commissioners to dis- 
arm the natives to every tribe on the northern fron- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 57 

tier; antl a state of suspicion and liostility resulted 
which prepared the Indians, urged on by the French, 
who were jealous of the English advance toward 
Acadia, for the treacherous overtures of Philip's em- 
issaries and to engage in the war, which broke out in 
the midsummer of 1675. 

The first act in this tragedy, which, with few in- 
tervals of quiet, lasted forty years, was that of the 
New Meadows River, a Brunswick stream, a few 
miles to the eastwartl. A settler's house was robbed 
of its guns and annnunition, and his cattle killed. 
What would have happened to the settler and his 
son had they not fled on their horses is a matter of 
speculation. The settler's wife was unharmed. A 
few days later, Stogummor, better known as Fal- 
mouth in the colonial geography, was partly de- 
stroyed, and this was followed by an aggressive cam- 
paign on the settlers in these parts after the desul- 
tory style of Indian warfare. Bands of marauding 
savages were scattered over the province, burning, 
killing and making captives. The most hideous 
atrocities were committed at French instigation, and 
the settlements were demoralized; for the larger part 
of this, Castine and Pere Rasle were responsil^le. The 
seventh of October in this year was observed by the 
English colonies as a day of fasting and prayer, 
which might have been more profitably observed 
at an earlier period in the interest of the prevention 
of -those acts of which the savages had abundant 
cause to complain, and the bitter fruits of which the 
settlers were now reaping. The first act of the trag- 



68 r-B ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

edy extended over a period of three years, when the 
Peace of Casco was consummated, and Massachusetts 
took Maine under her colonial wing by a sort of 
pro])rietary purchase. 

Marquette, Joliet and La Salle, with other mis- 
sionaries, had penetrated the western wildernesses. 
Along the St. Lawrence, the Great Lakes, and the 
Mississippi, to the Gulf, a chain of French posts had 
been established. The English regarded this exten- 
sion of the French boundary, as threatening rights 
under their charter from James I., by which they 
claimed all the territory from the Atlantic to the 
Pacific, south of a line drawn along the latitude of 
the north shore of Lake Erie, and thence westward. 
On the other hand, the French claimed the territory 
watered by the Great River, by reason of their being 
the earliest explorers and settlers. The French 
claim was certainly well-founded. Whatever causes 
combined to engage the two nations in war, this was 
a sufficient cause in those days of jealous acquisition 
of territory in the New AVorkl. Best known in his- 
tory as King William's War, the war was marked by 
a wickedness and devastation never before known in 
the annals of Lidian warfare, and falling heaviest 
along the northwestern frontier of New England. 
Most of the remote settlements had been destroyed 
or abandoned. This settlement on Casco river was 
to share the fate of Dover, and Schenectady. During 
the summer of 1689, the depredations of the Indians 
were extended to the whole frontier. None knew 
how, or when the blow was to fall. Settlers were 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 59 

hardly safe in the larger towns and settlements. 
Men carried their muskets slung to their backs as 
they wended their way to church, or wrought in the 
fields with plough or scythe. The low fences of rails, 
and ragged, uprooted stumps, which formed the 
primitive boundaries of their limited domains, and 
the thick shadows of the neighboring woodlands were 
constantly scrutinized for the hidden foe. 

Acute to an abnormal degree, a literal translator 
of the hieroglyphics of nature, inured to exposure, 
fatigue and hunger, always alert, no vigilance could 
protect the settler from the craft and treachery of 
this nomad of the wilderness. Very early in the 
war, few settlers w^ere to be found east of the Pis- 
cataqua. It was a war of extermination. Monhe- 
gan, a fishing station at the eastern limit of Casco 
Bay, offered five pounds for every Indian head. By 
proclamation, savages were outlawed. 

Topographically, Cascoe was almost an island. 
The tides from the sea swept up the bay and through 
the narrow gap at the north end of the neck, up over 
the flats of Back Cove, a broad inlet making into the 
mainland and extending well back to the westward; 
while, on the south and west, were the deep waters of 
Casco River. This river swamg round to the north- 
ward, so that at high tide the sea, east and west, al- 
most met. The rough clearings of this earlier set- 
tlement had become fertile fields, that extended 
beyond the spine, or ridge, that ran midway the 
length of the peninsula and down to the edge of 
the salt creek that bounds the new city park with 



60 1'^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

its acres of ancient oaks, better known as Deering 
Woods. 

Cleeve was dead; Tucker had gone to Portsmouth. 
Fisheries, lumber, and agriculture were the engage- 
ments of the people. The trade at Richmond's 
Island had been diverted to Casco on the east; and 
York and Kittery on the west. Then came King 
Philip's War; and like a bolt from out the sky, the 
savage horde swept down upon this settlement; and 
with fire and axe the devastation was thorough 
and complete, in which thirty-four individuals were 
slain, or carried captive into the wilderness, among 
whom the inmates of the Brackett home were num- 
bered. Thomas Brackett was killed, along with 
John Munjoy and Isaac Wakely, all leading men at 
the Neck. In 1678, a Peace Compact was entered 
into here, between the Colonial Government and the 
Indians; and slowly, those who escaped the ruth- 
less tomahawk returned to their houseless acres. 
Two years later, Fort Loyall was erected near the 
foot of India Street; and in the latter part of that 
year, 1860, Governor Danforth came down from Bos- 
ton, and a Court was held within its walls; and an 
orderly arrangement was effected, by which the set- 
tlers were to receive better protection. The record 
says, — " The fort was erected and the houselots 
ordered on a considerable part of Cleeve's corn- 
field." Or in other words, the settlement was com- 
pacted into semblance of solidarity. 

A stone house was built on Munjoy Hill, Eastern 
Promenade, by Captain Lawrence. After this, the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 61 

secontl growth of the old town was rapid. Edward 
Tyng was the first commander of Fort Loyall, who 
was afterward appointed Governor of Annapohs; hut 
saihng thither, he was captured by the French, and 
died in France, a prisoner of war. In 1690 the popu- 
lation was seven hundred ; and Willis says, — " Of 
this number, about twenty-five families lived on the 
Neck, forty at Purpooduck, Spurwink, and Stroud- 
water; the remainder at Back Cove, Capisic, and 
Presumpscot." 

The establishment of the stronghold at Casco, was 
a thorn in the French flesh. The French had long 
maintained a foothold at Norridgewack, and on the 
Penobscot, where Castine held sway; and it was the 
ultimate purpose of the French to absorb the entire 
Province of Maine. In order to accomplish this, 
the Indians must be incited to other and further 
atrocities against these frontier settlements. The 
authorities in Canada were prompt in their reports 
to the Home Government, and were fertile in their 
suggestions and plans; and the response of the 
Home Government was ready and generous. The 
French were most fortunate in the possession of 
these nomad allies; and under their schooling they 
were formidable, and much to be dreaded antago- 
nists. Rasle at Norridgewack, was untiring in his 
devotion to the church, and let slip no opportunity 
to impress upon the untutored mind of the savage, 
that his sole errand in life was the complete and utter 
extirpation of the " Yengees" " from the face of New 
England, and more especially the coast of Maine." 



62 I'i' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

He was especially diligent in inculcating daily the 
lessons of devotion to the Cause of the Church, which 
was primarily the extension of the Jesuit influence; 
and secondarily, the widening of its territory. All 
this was legitimate enough, perhaps, but the bar- 
barities practised by his uncouth and brutal tools, 
were as well chargeable to the rude ideas of civili- 
zation, and its rights, common to the times. The 
underlying principle was aggrandizement. There was 
an immense profit in the trade of the New World, 
and perhaps the acquisitions of Spain around the 
Gulf of Mexico, and the immense value of its mines 
of silver acquired under the Conquests of Pizarro, 
and those who came after him, were at the bottom 
of the French cupidity. In this warfare, the French 
were hardly better than brigands. 

And, again, the activity of the French, and the 
inactivity of the authorities of Massachusetts Bay, 
were notable. There was a strain of meanness run- 
ning through the administration at Boston, that 
could not but provoke the criticism of those to whom 
it should have lent its active interest. It was an 
administration for Revenue only. It levied taxes 
promptly upon its Provincial possessions; and was 
as prompt, and severe, in its collection of them; but 
when it came to the depleting of its treasury for the 
maintenance of a sufficient force to protect its fron- 
tier interests, its machinery moved with exceeding 
slowness, and generally not at all. Casco was a 
most promising colony; and, according to its loca- 
tion so far eastward, a rapidly growing one. Its 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 63 

trade was important. Its people were orderly, in- 
dustrious, and highly intelligent. It was a settle- 
ment to be nursed and protected; yet it was, in the 
main, left to its own devices in times of stress and 
extreme danger. 

After Fort Loyall was built, its support became 
irksome to Massachusetts. The General Court did 
not care to pay out more than it received; and a 
glance at its now ancient records will show its dis- 
position in the numerous orders, passed at one time 
and another, which were, however, of little real or 
solid benefit to the object of so much futile legis- 
lation. Here is one order, which would indicate the 
indifferent estimation of the General Court toward 
the Casco settlement: 

"The survey or gennerall is ordered to deliver 
vnto Capt. Edward Ting for the use of Fort Loyall 
one barrell of powder of the meanest of the countries 
store and waist, and the value to be repajed by the 
Treasurer as soon as the quit-rents come in." 

Casco was not alone in this neglectful experience. 
It was the same with all the settlements south, to 
Portsmouth. It was apparently a well-defined and 
understood policy, this ignoring of the rights of the 
settlements in the Province of Maine. And it was 
well adhered to. 

It was decided by the French Government that 
the fort at Casco must be annihilated; and the later 
attack upon this place was the result of mature 
deliberations by the Court of Versailles. It was 
approved by Louis XIV.; and it was a part of the 



64 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



general assault to be made on all the English settle- 
ments as far as New York. The English were to 
be driven out; and the Fleur de lis of France and the 
Bee-spangled banner of Louis, upheld and borne 
along upon the yells of the Indian devils, and guer- 
doned by the trailing smokes of the English cabins, 
was to extend New France to the River of Hendrik 
Hudson. Able militarists were despatched to head 
the wild forces of the Abenake woods; and after 







OLD FORT HALIFAX 



due preparation and equipment, the onslaught was 
to be made. This happened in 1690. As early as 
1688 outbreaks occurred here and there; nor was 
the English Government unaware of the French pur- 
pose. The War of King William kept its pace. 
It was a sympathetic chord in the contest then going 
on between France and England, across the water. 
James II. had been deposed. William and Mary 
had assumed the English throne. The revolution 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 65 

which had accompHshecl this, drew Louis into the 
espousing of the cause of the Stuarts, and he thus be- 
came the aggressive defender of the dethroned James. 
It was the fight that ahvays came, when Jesuit 
and Protestant found their interests at odds. While 
the fight was on across the seas, httle regard was had 
for the interests of the colonists. 

While this was going on, the saw-mills in the 
Provinces were taxed for the support of this fort 
at Casco; and the amount of the tax was around 
.$500. per annum. The uprising in Boston against 
the unpopular and tyrannical Sir Edmund Andros, 
who was Governor of New England at this time, 
resulted in his arrest there on the 18th of April, 
1689, and afterward, his deportment to England 
for trial. Andros was represented at Fort Loyall 
by Captain Lockhart. Like his master, he was of 
the Jesuit faith, and his soldiers rebelled and de- 
serted the fort, refusing to serve under him. About 
the Province similar episodes occurred in the several 
forts, leaving them defenceless, so hateful was the 
name of a Papist to the the ear of the settler. Papist 
and Indian were transposable terms. For fifty years, 
the venturous and hardy Fathers of the Church of 
Rome had traversed the wilderness, from the mouth 
of the St. Lawrence to the land of the Hurons; and 
southward, their outposts had been established on 
the Kennebec. The titled Castine had become the 
step-son of Madockawando, and had chosen his home 
among the wigwams of the Tan-atines along the banks 
of the Penobscot. It was a piece of astute diplo- 



66 Yf-^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

macy; for through Castine, the French exercised un- 
b()iiiul(Hl sway over the savage tribes of New France. 
If the athninistration at Boston ever had any care 
for the interests of the settler in Maine, it was badly 
exliibited in the Andros expedition to the Penob- 
scot in the spring of 1688, where he plundered Cas- 
tine's residence, visiting his brutality likewise on the 
Indians whom he found there. This unwarranted 
and ill-atlvised proceeding, on the part of Andros, 
crystallized the purpose of Castine, who was some- 
thing of a pacific by nature, into goading his savage 
allies to burn and kill upon all occasions, and made 
him a willing and active coadjutor of Frontenac, 
then Governor of Canada. 

Frontenac had JDeen to France. This same year 
so fraught with rebellion to Andros, he had returned. 
He brought explicit instructions to begin operations 
against New England, and New York, The plan 
of the French campaign had been thoroughly dis- 
cussed; and the French and Indians in Canada were 
roused to a pitch of enthusiasm, especially the latter, 
to whom Frontenac was, indeed, a father. The 
colonies were anxious, even fearful, and correspond- 
ingly depressed. 

The first surprise was made upon a small settle- 
ment at Yarmouth, and not so far away but a fleet 
rurmer could reach Casco in little over an hour's 
time. There was a garrison-house here in process 
of construction, upon which the settlers were at 
work ; but the enemy came too soon. Near by, two 
men had been killed while out hunting up their oxen; 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



67 



and immediately after, the assault was made on the 
workmen. The fight became a general one; the 
English retiring to the river, where they were pro- 
tected by a high cliff. Here they made a decided 
stand. Across the river were other settlers who took 
the alarm. Among these was Capt. Walter Glen- 
dall. Suddenly the firing under the river bank 
ceased. Glendall, with a bravery common to the 




AN OLD GARRISON HOUSE 



■settler of the time, secured a bag of powder and ball, 
and made for his boat, but was too late. Just as he 
was leaping into his boat, he was struck mortally; 
and throwing the bag with a wonderful strength, he 
shouted, — ''I have lost my life in your service!" 
but before he died he heard the renewed shots from 
the river-side; and with the rattling of the mus- 
ketry for his requiem, he fell into his boat, dead. 



68 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BA Y 

The Yarinouth settlers made a sturdy defence, and 
beat off their assailants, who retired to Lane's Island, 
down the bay, to spend the night in an uproarious 
carousal. These settlers fled to the islands, and 
finally escaped to Boston. This was in mid-August 
of 1688. 

Immediately after this, George Andros of Boston 
raised a force of seven hundred men, with which he 
went as far as Pemaquid, Nothing was accom- 
plished; yet there was something in the raising and 
disposition of a force of such numbers, that augured 
a breaking away from the indifference that had so 
long been the Massachusetts policy. The Govern- 
ment that succeeded him dropped, at once, back into 
the same lethargic disposition, from w^hich Andros 
seemed to have broken away; and whatever their 
conviction may have been as to the importance of 
maintaining a strong post at Casco, it merged into 
acute atrophy. With the successful holding out of 
Fort Loyall, the eastern frontier would have oper- 
ated as a menace to invading forces; and would, in 
some degree, have served as a check to the ravages 
that swept over Cape Neddock, and up over the 
back-lots of Kittery. As it was, its defence was 
left to the brawn and courage of the Casco settlers, 
after a fashion. After repeated demand, Massachu- 
setts did send Captain Church and a small troop of 
soldiers and friendly Indians, and a pitched battle 
was had, October, 1689, in what is now Deering 
Park. After a stiff rencounter, Church won out; 
and the Indians retired to their wilds beyond the 



YE ROMANCK OF CASCO BAY 



69 



Penobscot. Rejoicing in their success, the settlers 
knew, that with the returning springtime, the butch- 
ery would be renewed; and Church, assuring them 
that he would come again, marched his force back 
to Boston, while the settlers kept to their firesides 
for the winter, in comparative safety. 

A small company of soldic^rs was left in the fort, 




under Captain Willard. But Frontenac was not 
idle. His plans were soon to be put into activity. 
Three parties were to be sent out; and the first 
set out for Schenectady, which was destroyed in 
February, following. Of all the horrible butcheries 
that history records, that is midoubtedly the worst. 



70 y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

Another detachment, under Hartel, started by the 
way of Three Rivers the last days in January. In 
March they were at Salmon Falls, New Hampshire. 
This was a midnight assault. Salmon Falls was 
burned, and its settlers slaughtered in cold blood. 
This attack, however, resulted in a retreat, and the 
Indians made their way to the Kennebec to meet 
the force which was to make Casco its viltimate des- 
tination. 

This was headed by Portneuf. He led his force 
overland to the head-waters of the Kennebec, and 
thence, down stream, adding to his contingent from 
every village; keeping on, until he met St. Castin 
and Madockawando. Here they were also joined by 
Hartel, and the combined forces camped at Merry 
Meeting Bay, where their plans for the assault on 
Fort Loyall were finally perfected. 

Fort Loyall was in a perilous state. Sir William 
Phipps had embarked on his expedition against 
Nova Scotia — as if there were not sufficient need to 
keep whatever of military force that was to be 
had, at home — and had taken Captain Willard and 
his soldiers along with him. Willard was succeeded 
by Sylvanus Davis, whom Willis describes as the 
most energetic man of his time. This was in May, 
five days before the combined forces of the French 
and Indians appeared under the walls of the fort. 
At this time there were not seventy-five available 
men in the whole town capable of making a defence. 
These were to be opposed to about five hundred of 
the allied enemy, who came into Casco Bay in canoes. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASVO BAY 71 

Phipps had just sailed down the bay on his way 
to ArcatHe, and he had been discovered by the in- 
vaders, who, with the cautious habit pecuUarly 
savage in its nature, waited until the Phipps fleet 
should have got four or five days' sail away. 

A party of one hundred militia, with a few of the 
men from Fort Loyall, scoured the adjacent country 
for them. AVhile they were away, some thirty 
young men, with more bravery than wit, threw out 
a skirmish line over Munjoy's hill, to see if they 
could discover any indication of the enemy. The 
crest of this hill was perhaps a half-mile from the 
fort. Here was a lane embowered in trees that led 
to a cabin in the edge of the woods. Here was a 
herd of cattle; and the young men noticed them. 
The kine were staring in a startled fashion at 
the fence which surrounded the enclosure. With a 
loud cry the whole party rushed at the barrier, to 
meet a blaze of musketry that killed fourteen of 
them. Those who got off unharmed, took to their 
heels with such success that they got to the fort 
safely. This party was under the command of 
Lieut. Thaddeus Clark. This was on the fifteenth 
of May, 1690; and immediately after the ambush 
of Clark's men on Munjoy hill, the savages made 
a general attack on the houses in the village, where- 
ever the inmates had not had time to get to the fort, 
— a series of onslaughts which continued through 
that day. During the night the settlers mostly got 
into the fort. 

The next morning the assault began. The enemy 



72 Yf^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

came out into the open and summoned the fort to 
surrender. 

Captain Davis shouted back, in reply, — " We shall 
defend ourselves to the death." 

Then the settlement was looted. Here and there, 
the flames broke through the roofs, and the air was 
thick with smoke and war-whoops, and the boom- 
ing of the fort cannon. So the first day passed, 
without incident, other than the demoniac uproar 
among the French and Indians outside the fort 
walls, and the determined attitude of the besieged. 
On the second day, the French began a regular ap- 
proach by trenching, or mining. Surrender was inev- 
itable; but the little garrison held out. Then an 
ox-cart, heaped with combustibles, and lighted, was 
pushed up to the wooden wall of the fort, which 
was at once in a fierce blaze. The white flag was 
then shown from the fort. 

" Are there any French among you, — and will 
you give quarter?" shouted Davis. 

" Yes, and we will give good quarters," was the reply. 

Then Davis surrendered to Burneffe, who had 
charge of the combined forces; and the usual scene 
of butchery began. The terms of the capitulation 
were violated, and the prisoners were unhesitatingly 
turned over to the savages, when the gory tragedy 
of Schenectady was enacted anew. Only a few were 
left alive, some ten or twelve, and these were carried 
captive to Canada. Everything was burned or razed 
to the ground; after which, this horde of French and 
Indian devils returned to Quebec. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 73 

This downfall of Fort Loyall completed the tale 
of disaster to this section of the Province of Maine; 
for, after this, all the garrisons east of Wells were 
abandoned. 

If the Phipps expedition had sailed earlier in the 
season, perhaps this settlement of Casco would have 
remained unmolested; as, not long afterward, the 
French ceased their operations in Maine, having 
enough to do in o})posing the invasion of their own 
Province. 

For fourteen years after, Casco was left to the 
dominancy of Nature. If there were anyone here, 




it must have been the hermit Ingersoll. There is 
a tradition that he remained among the ruins. At 
this day one can hardly imagine these things, as 
one looks down the bay up which this flotilla came; 
yet it all came to pass, as it is written. 

The story of the capture of the garrison at Casco 
must needs be a short one, but the environment is 
interesting. Here was a mimic stage, thronged with 
actors, the plot of the play beginning with the French 
Occupation, and continuing down through years of 



74 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



international quarrel. The French Court was cor- 
rupt and conscienceless. The English were stubborn 
and stolid. Both were intensely selfish. It was 
the English game of shuttle-cock and battle-door, 
and the colonists were the unfortunates to bear the 
buffets and misfortunes of the contest. Perhaps the 
French were more considerate of those who had 
sailed away from the sunny slopes of France, than 
was England of her Puritan fomenters of religious 
discord and dissent. Whichever way it was, the 




THE COX HOUSE 



English settler would have been exterminated, but 
for his bull-dog tenacity, and his like stolid disre- 
gard for everything but the preservation of the new 
State, which, even then, he saw with prophetic vision. 

The trail has been taken at its beginning, and has 
been followed, as at a gallop; for one can hardly 
span a period of two generations, within so nar- 
row a boundary as has marked this glimpse of the 
Casco of Cleeve. 

The treaty of Ryswick, 1697, terminated the war, 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



ib 



with neither peace, nor safety, to the colonists. 
Europe was constantly disturbed by wars, as preg- 
nant with disaster to the American colonists as to 
the home country. With the advent of the Spanish 
succession controversy came the wars of Queen Anne. 
The French were particularly active. One of the 
results was the Boston expedition against Acadia, 
which place was devastated and its peasantry driven 
into exile: a never-to-be-forgotten event, — for the 
story of Evangeline and her wandering lover thrills 




McLELLAN HOUSE 



with a pathos which will live as long as the world 
has a language. The treaty of Utrecht, 1713, was 
followed by thirty years of peace; and the country 
about this beautiful bay was again repeopled. 

Recalling something of the history of the times, 
the death of Charles VI, emperor of Germany, be- 
came the occasion of a fierce war for the Austrian 
succession, in which all the European powers and 
their colonies became actively engaged. Frederick, 
the youthful king of Prussia, struck the first blow in 



76 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

his attempt to secure Silesia, and succeeded in en- 
listing a powerful aid in his support. France joined 
the alliance; and England, four years after, declared 
war against France. The Massachusetts colonists, 
apprehending danger, and anticipating this event by 
two years, had, as early as 1742, ordered the erection 
of fortifications at Falmouth Neck for the defense of 
the harbor; and a fort was built upon the site of old 
Fort Loyall. In May, two years later, came the con- 
flict which let loose, from their swamps and forest 
lairs, the subtle and ever active enemy of the English 
settler, — the foe characterized by Cotton Mather as 
" half-one and half t'other, half-Indianized French 
and half-Frenchified Indians," — whose depreda- 
tions were to cease only with Harmon's capture of- 
Norridgewock, and the battle of Love well's Pond. 
This war was known as King George's, in America. 
The principal event in it, was the capture of Louis- 
berg, the great stronghold of French America, by 
Sir William Pepperell. The war was terminated by 
the treaty of Aix la Chapelle. Of the subsequent 
hostilities, Canada was the theatre. 

From the bluffs of this old town a beautiful pan- 
orama of sea and shore, miles in extent, attracts the 
attention of the sight-seeing visitor. Behind, are the 
roofs of a charming city; and before, is the bay full 
of white sails of yachts and ships; while the horizon 
of the sea is hazy with the trailing smokes of incoming 
and outgoing steamers. Instead of the single dun- 
colored sail of Cleeve, there are ships from far Cathay, 
^nd from all the world; and there are islands by the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



77 



score, dotted with summer cottages and hotels and 
the white tents of the campers. In olden time, these 
islands offered great attractions to the settlers, with 
their picturesque beauty, their large areas, bold 
cliffs and variety of scenery. They were the great 
resorts for sea-fowl, whose spring migrations reached 
their height about the middle of May, when the 
ledges afforded good shooting. Now, one sees noth- 
ing but the brown sea-birds or sand-birds, with an 



/// 




A FRUITERER 



occasional "ring-neck" or "yellow-leg," whirling 
along the flats with a peculiar, quick rolling motion, 
like a flurry of leaves in the autumn wind. The 
woods and rocks abound in charming nooks, their 
floors carpeted with trailing vines and soft mosses, 
seamed with byways and old roads, choked with 
half-grown bushes and tall, flaunting weeds. The 
unfenced island pastures are full of delicate ferns and 
lichens, with here and there, among the saucer- 
shaped American yew, spots of arbutus growing lux- 



7« 



r^ ROMANCE OF CA6C0 BAY 



uriantly, with great waxen green leaves, blooming in 
the early spring, even while the winter snows linger 
among the hillocks. Tall, gaunt mulleins are scat- 
tered about, sentinel-like, among the gray boulders; 
and over the ledges, in sunny spots, trail masses of 
the blackberry vine, with richly colored stems and 
leaves, and later in the summer, laden with juicy, 
dusky fruit. On the ledges, clumps of fire weed reach 







THE HARBOR 



up their tall, lance-like stalks, flaunting their spiky 
blossoms in the sunlight, making one think of crim- 
son banners streaked with floss of ripened seeds. As 
the wind comes up with the sun, their downy em- 
broidery in myriads of tiny shreds is blown over the 
pastures, and out upon the blue waters, argosies to 
Nowhere. 

The outlook is a peculiarly pleasing one, over- 
looking as it does the broad expanse of the bay, 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 79 

with all its variety of natural adornment. To the 
north and west, beyond the roofs of old Stroudwater, 
are patches of forest, making a rare setting for hun- 
dreds of thrifty farms that reach far inland and 
along the shores of the bay, and forming the sub- 
urbs of the city. Eastward the dark line of Harps- 
well makes the limit of vision, broad stretches of 
water intervening. Overhead the gulls wheel in 
silent, graceful flight; and along the horizon of the 
sea, soft, bright-colored clouds are piled low down 
vipon the gray waters, against which the sunlit sails 
of the coasters and fishing-fleets are clearly outlined. 
"When the storm-signal is up, the fishing smacks may 
be counted by scores in the offings, or within the 
shelter of the numerous island roads, or under the 
lee of the gray old forts. The dredgers ply their 
work with slow and lazy movement, the black smoke 
drifting away from their dingy stacks in dense ragged 
ribbons as the shovels lift loads of mud from the deeps 
of the channels. A different spectacle certainly is 
this from that which might have been witnessed here 
a hundred and seventy years ago, when the bay un- 
der the eastern promontory of the Neck was thronged 
with flotillas of gayly decorated Indians from all parts 
of the Maine Province, representing the great Etche- 
min family by scores of Sagamores and their accom- 
panying delegations, — an occasion graced by the 
presence of the governors of both Massachusetts and 
New Hampshire, all having come together to solem- 
nize the Dummer treaty. 

A few miles southward are the marshes of Scar- 



80 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



borough, where the outlaw Bonython and his comely 
daughter made their rude home; and where, as well, 
the former held some sway after a savage sort, among 
the Saco tribes. Ruth Bonython was a wilding 
flower of rare and modest beauty, and equally se- 
ductive charm; and with all the passions of a savage, 
she loved as other maidens are like to do; yet, all 




OFF MARTIN'S POINT 



we have left of that, to her, sweet passion, is lost 
in the glamor of untold romance. It was the old 
story of the times, — a jealous lover, a rival among 
the Saco sagamores, a story of hate and treachery, 
and that, too, lost, or submerged in a dark tragedy 
that lives only among the silences of the woods and 
fields that hem the yellow marsh-lands to the sea, 
Whittier has hallowed the womanhood of Ruth Bony- 
thon in poetic fancy, a legend of fascinating and 
romantic character. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 81 

Mogg Megone, whose love for Ruth Bonython cost 
her, her own and her lover's life, lived but a few 
miles away from the Bonython home. They were 
neighbors, with a strip of woods between. His were 
the shades of gloomy silence among the Druid-like 
shafts of the giant pines and hemlocks; and Ruth 
Bonython's, the reaches of open lands that lost them- 
selves in the salt-marsh grasses seamed with shallow 
creeks, sinuous, each a filiament of translucency to 
catch and play riot with every fleeting hue of the 
sky, like a pile of rich yellow stuffs overshot with 
threads of silver and azure, and all this headed against 
the restless sea. 

But, here is Sagamore Bonython's epitaph, — 

"Here lies Bonython, 
Sagamore of Saco; 
He lived a rogue, 
He died a knave, 
And went to Hobomoko." 

There is nothing in all this to suggest the site of a 
town once so utterly blotted out, that after a half- 
generation, no vestige of its former self could be 
found, the culmination of a tragedy of which this 
sketch affords but the merest outline. Instead of a 
wilderness, here is a beautiful city, all of the ap- 
proaches to which, by land, are of incomparable 
beauty. And it is the same, whether one comes 
through the winding avenues of its suburbs, or 
through some one of the many gateways where the 
countless islands stand in the waters like pickets, the 



82 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



shores serrated with low-bastioned forts, each over- 
topped by gid(hly-poised derricks that lean as lazily 
against the sky; there is enough to fascinate the 
stranger so that his indifferent sojourning of hours, 
is like to become one of days and weeks, even. 




STOGUMMOR 











STOGUMMOR 



4 



X^ 






\i 



that part, purpart, and portion 
of land, beginning at the farther- 
most point of a neck of land called 
by the Indians Machigonne, and 
now forever and henceforth to be 
called or known by the name of 
Stogummor, and so along the same 
as it tendeth to the first fall of a little river issuing out 
of a very small pond, and from thence overland to the 
Falls of Pesumsca, being the first falls in that river, 
upon a straight line, containing by estimation from 
fall to fall as aforesaid about one English mile, which 
together with said neck of land which the said George 
Cleeve and Richard Tucker have planted for divers 
years already expired is estimated in the whole to 
be fifteen hundred acres or thereabouts; as also one 
island — known by the name of Hogg Island — to 
the end and full term of two thousand years, fully 
to be completed and ended." 

So read a bit of faded blue paper, upon which 

85 



86 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 




these lines were traced in a delicate hand and with 
a wonderful regularity, the beautiful characters of 
which had bleached into an aknost invisible yellow 
in some parts, so that I had much difficulty in de- 
ciphering that which has just passed under the 
reader's eye; and even this was fast being destroyed 

by the mischievous 
mice, for its edges 
were gnawed on all 
sides, — so evenly 
that they reminded 
me of a kind of 
handiwork my 
mother used to do 
with her pinking 
iron. 

This p a p e r, 
though mutilated, 
was dated in the 
early part of the 
year 1636, and bore 
the appearance of 
being quite ancient, 
though it c o u 1 d 



<^^^^^ 








t^j 



(]{dr^ 






■LI ec v~e <xt.-\A Ju-ckers '(jLutL, 



r"t 



aUlwi 



hardly have been the original indenture, lacking as it 
did the handsome seal of Gorges, and his scrawling 
signature as well ; for this old pine chest would be hard- 
ly the proper depository, even if it were held among 
the treasures of this old-time hostelry, for so distin- 
guished a document, in which were originally described 
the ancient boundaries of Stogummor, now the site of 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 87 

a certain fair city; but it was an accurate copy cer- 
tainly of the (lescrii)tiYe part of the original lease 
from Sir Fertl. Clorges to the first two settlers of this 
part of the country, — for which, considerable tract 
of country, but a hundretl pounds were paid, with a 
small annual rental besides. The consideration for 
so much land, — and there were several square miles 
of it, — seems small indeed; but there had been 
difficulty in effecting a settlement on this same spot 
only two years before by some adventurers w^ho came 
over from the city of London in the good ship Plough, 
only to return a few months later, a disheartened 
and half-starved colony, — which may have had 
something to do with the matter ; unless the fact that 
the Council of Plymouth had made so many land- 
grants to one person and another, the boundaries 
of wdiich overlapped, plunging everybody into land 
controversy wdio claimed an acre of land along the 
coast, furnished a stronger and better reason. Land 
titles were much in doubt, and Indian deeds were 
in many instances preferred by settlers to deeds from 
the English proprietors. I have in mind a popu- 
lous township at the eastern extremity of the great 
bay of which this purchase made the southern coast 
trend, that was once deeded by Sachem Robin Hood 
for a hogshead of corn and thirty pumpkins. This 
lease was in fact ecpivalent to a fee simple, in legal 
parlance, the seizin to which was no doubt made in 
the old-fashioned way, by the lessor or his agent giv- 
ing to the lessee a twig or bit of earth taken from 
the premises conveyed, — a custom grown obsolete 



88 y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO HAY 

in these days of crowded poiuilations and sul^divided 
titles. 

The entire coast-hne of Maine is remarkable for 
its historic landmarks, its islands, inlets and wide- 
mouthed rivers, and their old-time peoples, whose 
history is one of inexorable living; for it was more 
than strenuous, environed with such a multitude of 
precarious circumstance. Cabot had sailed past its 
headlands. "Captyne" John Smith of Virginia fame 
had fished in its deep bays, and had filled the sails 
of his ships with its pin(>-flavored land breezes, and 
drenched them in its dripping, drifting mists; and 
later, it became closely identified with the settle- 
ments of New France. It was a part of that Ar- 
cadie whose little village of Grand Pre has become 
the saddest, and yet the sweetest land of romance of 
the New World. The floors of its almost pathless 
woods were seamed with a network of trails, — be- 
wildering almost, as those of Dtedalian Crete, — 
that marked the French Occupation. 

About the first decade of the seventeenth century, 
the pioneer Jesuits, Quentin and DuThet, fired with 
holy zeal for the Church, and with a laudable am- 
bition in the behalf of the French king, had crossed 
the seas with other French adventurers, and had 
planted the Cross on what Champlain had named, 
"The Isle of Monts Deserts." Here was established 
the first Mission on the Maine coast, the Mission of 
St. Sauveur; and which w-as shortly after completely 
obliterated by Argall in one of his buccaneering 
forays; which, to be more exact, was in the summer 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 89 

of 1G17. Du Thet was killed, iiuitchlock in hand; 
and the only memorial of this ill-starred venture of 
the Church, are the crags and wooded slopes that 
loom and tower above the waters that bore its vest- 
ments hither. 

Sieur De Champlain had wintered and explored 
amid its deeps of winter snows; had stalked its deer 
and moose through its wilderness of dusky spruce, 
— the same old forest giants that to-day cast their 
gloomy shadows across the waters of the upper Pe- 
nobscot, — for here, in the heart of this densely 
wooded inland, was old Norridgewack, a French out- 
post, and afterward the scene of the Jesuit Rasle's 
mission work. 

It was here in these deeps of shaggy gloom that 
this church diplomat gathered his settlement of In- 
dians to school them in the white man's ways of 
worship, and as well his art in war. It was here he 
built his chapel devoted to priestly service, matin 
and vesper, which to the untutored savage were but 
mystic rites; and by which Rasle held in leash the 
''half-Frenchified Indians," as Mather styled them, 
and who were let loose at one time and another upon 
the Enghsh settlements from St. George to York, 
with Madockatvando or Castine at their head. Rasle's 
rude chapel was a most convenient rendezvous for 
the perpetrators of these savageries, and which was 
partly destroyed by Westbrook's Penobscot expedi- 
tion, and a year or so later, completely obliterated 
by Harmon of York. 

Eastward, where the Penobscot widens out into 



90 YE ROMANCE OF C.4*SC'0 BAY 

the Bay, yet hardly so far down as the Havens, the 
wigwam fires of Baron Castine burned, and with so 
steady a glow, that the waters, even now, thereabout, 
are tinged with the romance of the dusky wife who 
fed them, and whose heart was no less warm toward 
her titled French lover. 

And, why not! 

Here was a Realm of Romance, with all the ele- 
ments of love, devotion, intrigue, treachery, and con- 
flict; for the beautiful Penobscot was the highway 
to that mythical Norombegua, whose gleaming towers 
were the Will-o'-the-wisp of many a perilous New 
World pilgrimage and as delusive search; for it was 
hither in quest of this Eldorado of the pathless woods, 
that Sir Humphrey Gilbert was sailing, in the brave 
ship Admiral when it foundered off Cape Sable in an 
autumnal gale, and which he abandoned for a " little 
ffrigate" that afterward met the same fate in a furious 
storm off the Azores. Nothing was ever afterward 
heard of her captain, or crew, after the waves had 
hidden the glow of their binnacle lamp from sight. 

From the days of Hieronymas da Verrazano, who 
made maps in 1529, this lost city of Norombegua be- 
came the vainly sought-for Mecca of many a knightly 
soul, whose devotions, tinged first with desire, were 
finally absorbed in a great purpose, that saw, in the 
golden sunsets that set the wilderness treetops a-swirl 
in a sea of molten glory, visions akin to those of 
John at Patmos, when the old heavens were rolled 
up as a scroll and he saw a new heaven, and a new 
earth — the simple memorial of which was a rude 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 91 

cross that marked the spot of that revelation of the 
Heavenly City to the New World pilgrim. Such a 
cross was found by Champlain. Very old and mossy 
it was; and buried in the deeps of the Penobscot 
woods; the only relic of this city of barbaric splendor, 
with its towers and roofs and domes of gold aglow 
with the living light of the sun. An ignus jatuus it 
proved to be: an empty dream; a splendid fable. 
But the legend on this old isolated cross — there 
was none. His days of toilsome search ended, the 
story was lost, buried with him, whose last resting- 
place some faithful henchman had marked with one 
of the fleeting elements of Time. Only the finger of 
God had traced his epitaph in the tender, graceful 
hieroglyphics of the vagrant mosses and lichens, that, 
like lover's kisses, clung to this emblem of a more 
sacred memory. 

David Ingraham, one of John Hopkins' sailors, 
who had been set on shore, and deserted somewhere 
about the Gulf of Mexico, along with a hundred others 
of his companions, and who found his way north- 
ward along the coast and over the Indian trails to 
St. John, imagined he saw those roofs of gold upheld 
by their pillars of silver; but the strange sights and 
the wonderful Noromhegua of which he told the mar- 
velling Londoners on whose behalf Gosnold, and Mar- 
tin Pring became explorers, were never seen by mor- 
tal eye. It was a splendid dream of a rich and mag- 
nificent city; a New World Babylon; which, had it 
been realized, might have been classed as the eighth 
wonder of the world, worthy of the fairest legendary 



92 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 




Yii HOMANCE OF CASCO BAY 93 

setting, such as a Longfellow or Whittier might fabric 
out of a forest wilderness whose tapering spires and 
massy domes of tree-tops leaned sheer against, 

"The embers of the sunset's fires 
Along the clouds burned down, — " 

and one can say with AVhittier's Norman henchman 
to his master, 

" 'Is it a chapel bell that fills 
The air with its low tune? ' 
'Thou hear'st the tinkle of the rills, 
The insect's vesper drone.'" 

Thus Norombegua has ever been amid the moss- 
festooned hemlocks of this land of shadows and beaded 
lakes, a shadow and a dream. Had the explorers 
traversed this same wilderness a century and a half 
later, they might have heard " the Voice of One cry- 
ing in the wilderness," and mayhap his master, as 
well ; and had they followed its challenge into the 
deeper glooms of the forest, they, like Ingram, might 
have told of another city where Te Deums and Mag- 
nificats were the gold and silver of the realm — a city 
of God's own adoption whose vespers were rung by 
the spirits of the dead; for, here, amid the ancient 
grandeur of these Penobscot woods are the ashes 
of the old N^orridgwack Mission, where, under the 
roots of a hoary hemlock that had kept the calendar 
of the centuries, burdened to its death with the keep- 
ing of its weird secrets of Indian savagery, of sack 
and fire-lit ruins, and that had fallen, a prey to a 



94 



}'^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



century of remorse, was found the Jesuit Rasle's 
chapel l^ell whose first response to the touch of the 
stranger was a challenge, that became momently a 
requiem, to die away in a soft, sweet benedicite. 
0, the speech of Rasle's chapel-beh! 
I have listened to its weird vibrations; and if its 
first notes unconsciously quickened the pulsing of 

my life currents, 
those which fol- 
lowed gave me 
a singular sense 
of chill, like 
one's contact 
with some cold, 
uncanny thing 
after the dusk 
has fallen — a 
bar of spider's 
web across the 
face, or the 
touch of some 
harmless crawl- 
ing thing that 
makes one's 
hands the acci- 
dental highway 
of its predatory excursion. Ah! but those long un- 
awakened voicings — abrupt, imperious, militant — 
softly pleading? hardly; but rather the rasping utter- 
ance of a bigot soul, whose nakedness is but scantily 
concealed l)y the worn shreds of its ascetic garb. Its 




4^1<^L|,£f l^t."^ 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 95 

heart is gone, and its speech is hollow as if from the 
fieshless lips of a skull, and as thin as the cerements of 
the long-buried dead; and as hopeless as the cause for 
which it once stood. As the dim light of the lofty- 
ceiled room where it reposes in silence, but for the 
touch of strange hands, falls upon it, visions of ascetic 
vigil, savage tumult and massacre, yes, and misguided 
prayer are painted upon its bronze sides. Every dent 
and scar upon its time-worn surface are epics of adven- 
ture and war waiting to be translated — love lyrics, 
too, and low-voiced chants, and songs of triumph and 
defeat smothered in the smokes of countless council- 
fires. Swarthy faces glower and scowl at one, until 
one turns away involuntarily under the stress of such 
vivid imagery. For a century one may believe this 
old bell has swung amid the gloomy naves of these 
primeval forests, 

"God's first temples," 

tolled by every surging tempest; but vainly has it 
called to the disembodied spirits it once knew so 
well. A Wandering Jew, cast in lasting bronze, haunt- 
ing secrets hide within the cavern where hangs its 
silent tongue ; secrets weird, uncanny ; and no wonder 
it cries out in sharp agony at every alien touch. Who 
knows but that Rasle's restless soul is as yet unre- 
leased from its brazen thrall? The Book of Reve- 
lation was closed with Patmian John, and from now 
on, to the end of Time, we can only look and dream 
over the treasures of the past that have come down 
to us through such stress of exposure and hardship, 



96 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



while the imagination runs riot for the lack of some- 
thing more authentic. 

So much of a digression from the matter outlined 
at the opening of this chapter may be pardoned, for 
a mental pilgrimage across this old-time Dominion 
of Maine, with so much of legend and romance lin- 
gering about one's footsteps, is not without its charm. 
But to return to its more southerly part, to Stogum- 

mor, which soon be- 
came the easterly 
outpost of the earlier 
English colonization, 
the student of early 
New 




Eng- 
land 
history 
will 
find the 
coming 
hither 

of the English, to have followed close upon the heels 
of a settlement upon the Saco River, which may be 
credited to the enterprise and daring of Richard ^^ines, 
who was somewhat of an adventurer; and who is 
said to have lost his life in a drunken brawl in Vir- 
ginia some years afterward. Here, upon the Saco 
River, rude mills were erected, and with a few like, 
rude dwellings, they formed the primary settlement 
of the English in the wilderness then known to the 
Massachusetts Bay Colony as the Province of Maine. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



97 



As the eastern-bound traveller leaves the Saco of 
to-day behind him, long barrens of shifting sands 
and reaches of ocean shore widen out along his path- 
way. The broadly-dyked marshes, fringed with 
stunted Norway pine growth, through which, with 
many a twist and turn, come winding down the 
waters of the Nonsuch and Spurwink, that rush in 
with every tide, to slink away a bit later with scarcely 







TO PINE POINT 



perceptible ebb; the hazy line of distant woods al- 
most as blue as the sky that reaches so tenderly 
down to meet it, and the salt sea-winds, combine to 
arouse the most pleasurable sensations, impelling one 
to lay aside reading matter, and, with car window 
wide open, to drink to the full the enjoyment of the 
constantly changing scenery that makes the exqui- 
site charm of the breezy lowlands of old Scarboro. 
A ride over these marshes flecked with the blue waters 
of their salt creeks, with their flights of sea-birds, 
their peaked stacks of brown marsh hay, their shift- 



98 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

ing shadows of flying clouds, with the low-browed 
farmhouses along their uplands, is one of increasing 
interest; for hereabout, and just south of the land 
described in the Gorges lease as Casco Neck, lived two 
men, who, within two years and a half after they had 
built their log cabins upon the Scarboro clearings, 
left them to become the pioneer settlers of so-called 
Stogummor. It was about these low, green, salt- 
marsh levels, where in the time of Mary Garvin, 

"Westward on the sea winds 
That damp and gusty grew, 
Over cedars darkening inland 
The smokes of Spurwink blew," 

that George Cleeve lived. Here his narrow acres 
were cleared. Here he planted his corn among the 
blackened stumps of the newly burnt lands. 

One late summer day in 1633, a small vessel ap- 
peared off Poodack shore, trimming her sails past 
this bold cape of many islands, beating up the lower 
roadstead of Casco Bay, with Hogg Island over her 
starboard rail. A motley freight comprised her bill 
of lading, if she had any, which is doubtful, as this 
voyage took place before the day of custom-houses. 
Men, women and cattle, and rude utensils and furni- 
ture were huddled together under the sheltered cool- 
ness of her dun-colored sails, their soft gray shadows 
deepening and lengthening as the afternoon wore on. 
Instead of broad acres of roofs, with scores of stately 
towers and mellow haze of low-lying smokes, to greet 
this strange wayfarer of the sea; instead of slips and 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 99 

spacious docks, only a rib of yellow sand, — and 
overlooking it, a long ridge of woodland lay out- 
stretched under the summer smi. A New World 
wilderness of forest-clad peninsula, with many a 
morass, and whortleberry swamp, and run of spark- 
ling spring water within its dense growths of oak 
and pine ; the roaming-gromid of wild beasts ; and of 
Mogg Megone, who in after days sold a part of it to 
Sagamore Boynthon in consideration that his pale- 
faced daughter should 

"sit in the Sachem's door, 
And braid the mats for his wigwam floor, 
And broil his fish and tender fawn, 
And weave his wampum and grind his corn;" 

a thing which never came to pass, though the deed 
was made, and Mogg's signature of a hunter's bow 
duly affixed. 

Cleeve might have noted, as he rode in on the flood 
of the tide, once over the rocks of Staniford Ledge, 
at his right, and standing boldly out on the verdant 
incline of House Island, Christopher Levett's house, 
built some dozen years before. There may have 
been no verdant fields, but rather a tangle of bush 
and jungle that always comes to abandoned places. 
The Levett house may have been hidden by the low 
spruce growths that were common to these patches 
of land amid seas. It may have, in that time, rotted 
down, or have been overwhelmed by some one of 
the autumnal gales that were wont to sweep land- 
ward from the Gulf Stream. It is natural to sup- 



48^351 



100 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

pose that the tooth of Time would not neglect so 
fair a prey; and yet, in those far-off daj's, the habi- 
tations of men were most solidly constructed of 
hewn logs; and the roofs were made tight; and the 
shingles were riven and shaved; and they should 
have been good for a century, at least, — but there 
were other vicissitudes, of fire, of savage retaliation 
upon so helpless and lonely a vestige of a feared and 
hated intruder. That Cleeve made no mention of it, 




is perhaps singular. But Cleeve was a busy man, 
with grave and weighty projects on hand. He was 
occupied with his own acres, with John Winter sow- 
ing tares even within the shadow of the Cleeve door- 
step. He might have mentioned it a hundred times, 
and the telling of it might not have got beyond the 
kitchen walls; but that it was there is something 
not to be doubted for a moment; for Levett's own 
story is as authentic as anything written of those 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



101 



early days. It is at least a cheerful thing to think 
of, as all old rooftrees are, with so much of mys- 
tery and romance lurking in the dusky corners of 
their olden garrets amid the dust and webs of the 
spider. 

Two years after the murder of Bagnall, and the 
date of the tragedy is put down as Oct. 3, 1631, 
the Council of Plymouth granted to Robert Tre- 
lawney and Moses Goodyeare, merchants of Ports- 




A FINE OLD TOWN 



mouth, Eng., Richmond island; and from the ruins of 
Bagnall's cabin arose that of John Winter, as Tre- 
lawney's agent, a man who, if history tells the truth, 
was not less scrupulous than his predecessor, though 
more politic. But George Richmon and Walter 
Bagnall were the first w^hite men, with the exception 
of Levett's brief sojourn at House Island, to occupy 
any part of what was afterward known as Falmouth, 
living at Richmond's Island as early as 1628. Where 
Bagnall came from, or who he was, is uncertain. 



102 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



Sainsbury in his "Calendar of Colonial Papers," says, 
''Dec. 2, 1631, Patents to Walter Bagnall for a 
small island called Richmond, with 1,500 acres of 
land." Winthrop says, "He lived alone upon his 
island, and in three years had accumulated about 
£400 by his trade with the Indians, whom he much 
wronged." 

Up the harbor came the little vessel, to the tawny 
sands that then lay so still and peaceful under the 



r- a 




PUR POODACK 



shelter of their lofty promontory. It was Cleeve, 
who had sailed hither from Scarboro marshes, hoping 
to avoid hereafter the covetous interference of Tre- 
lawney's agent; and it was Cleeve's destiny to lay 
here the foundation of a memorable old town. 

^Miat a fine old town it is! To the north ebb and 
flow the broad waters of an ocean inlet; eastward 
is the island-crowded bay, that reaches almost to 
Pemaquid; on the south is an estuary of the sea, 
that runs west and south around its curving shores, 
making at high tide almost an island of this wild 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



103 



country of the old clays, the metes and bounds of 
which the reader has already scanned; 

"Which stretches away on either hand, 
As far about as my feet can stray 
In the half of a gentle summer's day;" 

and which held the romance of old Stogummor. 




A RELIC 







A RELIC 



|F my reader will go with me to an 
old harbor, not less ancient and 
historic than many others along 
the New England coast, reckoned 
quite famous; nor less distin- 
^^ guished because an adventurer, 
one Capt. John Smith of A^irginia, 
should have anchored within the 
shelter of its charming islands and 
broad, peaceful roads, more than 
two centuries ago, much of the 
old-time landmark will be dis- 
covered ; and signs of a period when plain living and 
unpretentious comfort, were as much the accompani- 
ments of prosperity and forehandedness, as are some 
of the more garish externals of to-day; easily recog- 

107 




108 YJ^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

nizcd as standing for a real or simulated gentility, 
whose occupation, is as nuich, the keeping up of pros- 
perous appearances, as the profitable spending of a 
genteel leisure. 

Now, a flourishing suburb of a fair and flourishing 
city, as it was in more ancient times a place of some 
local importance, once provincial. Pur Poodack is 
as good a place as any in which to pitch one's tent 
for a few days in midsunnner; for not only do its 
winds blow freshly from the sea, bringing the sound 
of the tide with it, l)ut right here upon this neck 
of land, named in honor of good Queen Bess, are 
scores of beautiful sunnner cottages and sightly lo- 
cations yet to be occupied, and countless beauties 
and suggestions of rare color of landscape and water. 
Everything hereabout has the genuine New England 
flavor. The city across the tide-river is a typical 
New England city, with all of New England's con- 
servatism and slow adoption of new things; adhering 
to the old-fashioned principles of economy with a 
steadiness marvellous in these days of swift progres- 
sion; with as much money and brains as of anything 
else. A quarter of an hour's walk or ride from 
town will bring one in sight of homely homesteads 
and ancient orchards; homesteads whose cellars were 
excavated before the first foundation stone was laid 
in the more pretentious metropolis of the state; 
surroundings not less interesting than quaint and 
ancient-looking, possessing a charm and value to 
the true New Englander that words and figures 
fail to express, so loyal is the heart to the homely 



YE ROMANCE OF (WSCO BAY 



109 



commonplaces that made up the dehghts of earher 
(hiys. 

Beautiful, old-fashioned New England has abund- 
ant charm for all her children, and of all her varied 
scenery none is more beautiful and attractive than 
the indented coast line and the inland bordering upon 
it of southwestern Maine. From the highlands of 
the city that overlook and shelter the low domain 
which is in part the subject of this sketch, and 




FORE RIVER 



which lies just across a stream, or estuary, always 
called by the unpoetic name of Fore River, looking 
due west, the eye spans the easterly approaches to 
the mountains of New Hampshire, comprised in 
countless suggestions of meadows, yellowish streaks 
of green; slender, winding threads of river-fog that 
spread out into mazy ribbons, and follow, in and out 
the wanderings of many a wayward stream, the 
charm of their restful valleys; with hill-slope upon 
hill-slope rising in regular gradation, broken only by 
their revelation of granite buttress amid their wood- 



110 5"A' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

clad beauty. Here and there are thrifty farms and 
cosey homesteads blown over by summer gales fresh 
from the western mountains, or swept inland from 
the big ocean, with scents of appetizing flavor of 
salt sands and wide-spreading marsh; or beaten in 
winter by storms that pile the drifts to hide the 
low eaves of the farmhouses that lie in the pathway 
of the north winds. 

From this outlook one can hardly see the great 
lake of the Sokoki, named after an Indian tribe 
which flourished about its shores some two centuries 
ago, but now known by the equally euphonious name 
of Sebago; but one can see where it is ; and on a clear 
day, one does not find it difficult to make out the low 
trail of mist that locates this sheet of water some- 
what to the north of the direct line to the white- 
capped summit of Mount Washington, 

The imagination is not taxed severely if its gunda- 
lows with their ungainly sails seem to be outlined 
against the far-ofT horizon, as we know they must 
be; for there was in the days gone by no inconsider- 
able water traffic passing up and down this inland 
water way. These clumsy affairs seemed then not 
at all incongruous or out of place; but rather to lend 
a poetic charm and interest to this out-of-the-way 
sheet of water, and a certain quality of romance as 
well; when it was known that these same gundalows 
had been anchored under the shadows of these same 
highlands in the quiet harbor of Pur Poodack, moored 
not unlikely beside some ship from "furrin parts." 
In this manner, they had, in some sort, attained 



yi' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 111 

the prestige of having scraped an acquaintance with 
the outer world, which gave them a certain quaUty 
of distinction, in spite of the long highway of homely 
canal, with the tow horses, the clumsy, leaky locks 
and creaking timbers; and for all this tardy move- 
ment to reach this inland destination with one cargo 
after another of West India goods. Such household 
necessities as could not be gleaned from the fields, 
or turned out of the old hand-loom, or realized from 
other means common to the times and locality, came 
by canal. These " necessities " were most likely com- 
prised in the two staples of molasses and Jamaica 
rum, the latter of which was used upon all occasions 
from birth to burial. 

But one sees nowadays from this outlook more 
than this panorama of treetop and rolling green. At 
the foot of this bold bluff is a white streak of high- 
way, that runs around the town like a swathing band, 
to hold its roofs together. Just outside this white 
dusty line, over which somebody seems to be con- 
stantly travelling, around to the south and west, is 
the estuary, or tidal river that separates the larger 
town from the lesser, which is spanned by numerous 
bridges that radiate from the city like the spokes of 
a huge wheel. Its shores are far apart, and the 
bright foliage of birch and willow shows brilliantly 
against the heavier masses of woodland, of darker 
pine and hemlock, that tower above them. The con- 
tours of these shores, curving landward as they do, 
make a natural basin, a little lake when the tide is 
at its flood; and here are ships at anchor, that have 



112 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



come no doubt for their cargoes of brick, for along 
these flats are abundant clayey lands, and sand, and 
pine woods, with which to burn them into hard build- 
ing material. Ships were once built at the head of 
this salt-water creek ; and these forest-lined banks in 






Mm^-'''- 




THE OLD SHIPYARD 



the old privateering days concealed many a Yankee 
sloop from his Majesty's men-o'-war, which had cap- 
tured many a richly-loaded prize, and taken it into 
Boston, Salem or Newburyport, much to the chagrin 
of English cruisers, and much to the profit of these 
bold highwaymen of the sea. 

The blue waters of the sea disappear at low tide, 
leaving the flats bare; and down these, the slender 
stream of the Capisic river flows, winding in and out, 
a thread of silver, to find its way slowly into the 
broad basin where the coasters are anchored; and 
where, years ago, the canal, long since abandoned, let 
its inland ships and gundalows into the harbor. The 
old towpath, not yet overgrown and hidden within 
its fringe of rank alders, may still be traced along 
the east side of the creek. It is a pleasant place to 
"wander, for along the margin of the old canal there is 



YE ROMANCE OF C A SCO BAY 



113 



many a bit of beautiful landscape that meets one in 
a surprising sort of a way. The tide runs far up into 
the woods among the farming lands ; and the stream 
is notched and ragged, with many a slender ribbon 








THE BRIDGE OVER THE CANAL 

of woods running out into its silver current; and many 
a reach of yellow marsh, rusty with briny incrusta- 
tions, making into the pasture-lands or the low 
fields, often up to the gardens of the farmhouses, 



114 y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

making rare pictures whichever way one may turn. 
The canal follows the creek within the shadows of 
the woods, and where one does not care to follow for 
the underbrush, and tangle of thick sapling pines ; but 
one turns to the slow-running creek, a dignified 
enough stream at times, when the tide is in; when it 
is out, it is a mass of black ooze and mud, with here 
and there streaks of light-green grasses, that lend to 
the flats the rare color that only the salt water can 
impart. 

There does not seem to be the romance about this 
stream that one might expect. It is not a highway 
to any place in particular. It leads, in fact, no- 
where; and its life is only such as is lent to it by the 
sea during parts of the day. When the tide is at its 
flood it is a stream of liquid silver, and within its 
setting of autumn haze, one understands Corot. I 
never felt any interest in making the discovery of its 
upper limits, which could not be far away; and as 
for there being any secret springs, or life-giving or 
life-sustaining brooks flowing into the marshes that 
dam its farther progress into the interior, it did not 
seem possible there could be any, from the knowledge 
I had of the country. As for its consequence, it 
seemed to me to be of small consideration, unless to 
turn the old salt-mill by the old post-road to Boston 
before the days of the railroads. 

But whether this river made by the sea has any- 
thing of history or not, does not much matter nowa- 
days, so long as its banks are full twice a day; and 
an occasional salt-laden schooner may reach the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



115 



dilapRlated wharf with its cUlapidated old mih; with 
only the great white gulls sailmg up and down its 
length to keep it company. There are plenty of rail 
and teal about these marshes all summer long, with 
plenty of boys no doubt after them; and later in the 




THE SALT-MILL 



season, flocks of sand-peeps and plover, and occa- 
sionally a few snipe, find abundant feeding ground 
over these wide areas of marsh, going up with the 
tide and down with it, much as a bit of driftwood 
does, — a dancing sort of a life. 

From this swathing-band of white, the old trail 
stretches out to a little hamlet as old as any in this 
region, which its dwellers call Stroudwater. "WTiere it 
got its name I cannot tell, unless it was named after 
another older hamlet in English Gloucestershire. 
Spanning the deeps and shallows of this wide water- 
way comes the dusty highway, — which less than a 
century ago was the way to all the big towns south; 
and over this old, gray bridge went the rattling 



116 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



coaches, by the way of York and Portsmouth, on 
their journey to Boston town. Through this single, 
narrow street of this most ancient hamlet, came, and 
went, all the travel from this section. It was the 
great artery, a hundred years ago, of provincial' 
travel, and has not yet lost entirely its provincial 
flavor, as one finds who stops to look at the old 
houses beside it, that belong to the ante-Revolution- 
ary period, and are still in a state of good preserva- 




ODD, PEAKED GABLES 



tion ; houses which in these modern times afford curi- 
ous and interesting specimens of early American 
architecture. 

As one goes through the streets and byways of a 
strange town, there is always a curiosity to know 
something of its history; something of its quaint and 
ancient belongings; especially if there be hints along 
its thoroughfares in the guise of odd peaked gables, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 117 

dormer windows with the smallest of small panes of 
glass, whose color is the seal of their antiquity; low 
overhanging eaves, and curiously cut-up roofs, with 
huge square chimneys atop of all. 

There is much of suggestion oftentimes in what 
one discovers of this sort, which spins the thread 
upon which may be strung rare bits of information. 
I never meet an old man, withered and wrinkled and 
bent, without asking myself hosts of questions about 
him; questions of the old-fashioned sort, which are 
not less fascinating because they do not bring im- 
mediate answer. It is the same with these old things 
which an old race has left behind. Stroudwater long 
ago lost its place in the line; and only its nearness 
to the city, which it can serve as a suburb, gives it 
value. 

The village, the only ancient suburb relict of old 
Falmouth, possesses a peculiar charm. AYith its face 
to the east, half-hidden among the wide-topped elms 
that line its streets, it is a place of the Sleepy Hollow 
sort, with its lack of industry and its drowsy silence; 
save by the old salt mill — which never goes except 
with the tide. Quaint and ancient, full of restful- 
ness and content, its old importance lingers only in 
traditions; yet the new race, who walk its ancient 
ways under the shadows of its ancient elms, and 
sleep under its ancient roof-trees, and who have 
inherited its ancient acres, are not unmindful of its 
prestige. 

If one had waited beside the old tavern, that on a 
January of a hundred years ago stood near the centre 



118 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



of provincial Falmouth, he would have seen the rude 
placard which informed th(^ traveller concerning a 
"stage" that was about to leave this old hostelry for 
the first time. "Those ladies and gentlemen who 
choose the expeditious way of stage travelling will 
please to lodge their names with Mr. Motley. Price 




Hb^^/^ 






for one passage the whole distance, twenty shillings." 
It is the first day of departure. With many a flour- 
ish of the whip the lumbering vehicle that served as 
a coach takes an early leave of the tavern folk. With 
parting halloo the cumbersome affair creeps up the 
main street of the town, past Ryerson's tavern, a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 119 

dilapidated rookery even then, to rattle down Rag- 
gett's hill; thence past the narrow Capisic, and through 
this hamlet, on its way to Portsmouth, rousing the 
people as it goes, with the loud twang of the driver's 
horn. Over the marsh, past the salt mill comes the 
old coach, to the abrupt rise in the highway that 
connnences even at the edge of the creek, and that 
goes up the sharp incline of the hill as straight as 
a taut chalk-line; now as then, to go through 
the village under the tall elms that line the road- 
side, with branches sweeping down over the gray 
roofs of the century-old dwellings. The stage has 
dropped its traveller, mayhap, at "the fork of the 
roads." One road runs past the ancient cemetery, 
— the other keeps on southward to old Ports- 
mouth. 

In this fork is the Means house, — an antique hab- 
itation, with sharp angular roof and sides of wood, 
clapboarded, and painted red. It is a charming re- 
minder of the old days. It is not of the Pompeiian 
hue, or any other of the fashionable shades of red, 
but the old-fashioned red of the plain, durable, un- 
pretentious sort that one sees on barndoors in the 
country; even now, wdien the farm economy does not 
allow of so much expenditure of paint as to cover the 
whole barn, — or that one finds on the rear of the 
farmhouse, while the front is painted a brilliant 
white. 

The gables of this old house are of brick, laid in 
yellow clay, while its window-panes are of the di- 
minutive sort. Inside are the high wainscotings and 



120 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



huge fireplaces, — a treasure house it is of suggestion 
for the antiquarian. 

No special history or romance attaches to this 
house of the Revolutionary period. Its ancientness 
is its certificate of character, while its weather-beaten 
lineaments lend it dignity. Built by Capt. James 
Means, at the end of the Revolution, it was fur- 
nished with good old English furniture, brought 
from over the sea in some stanch vessel, built may- 




THE MEANS SIDE-BOARD 



hap within a gunshot of the old house, — of all 
which furniture there remain only a mahogany 
sideboard, and a massive chair, which take on 
some added interest from the fact that upon 
Lafayette's last visit to America he dined with 
Captain Means ; and these old-fashioned reminders of 
an old-fashioned day were used by the distinguished 
man, who thus honored this hero of the entire 
Revolutionary conflict. It is something, that this 
Sleepy Hollow of Stroudwater remembers the inci- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 121 

dent, to repeat it with much pride to such as stop 
for a moment's chat with the dwellers in its old- 
fashioned houses. 

Behind the Means house, just across the road 
that follows the ridge to the northward, is another 
mansion, no less distinguished — from the fact that 
it was built a century and a half ago by one Tate, 
who came here, and laid the foundation when Stroud- 
water was a wilderness. It is a gambrel-roof affair, 
with a huge pile of brick chimney in its centre; its 
clapboards are worn with rain and sleet, unpainted 
and iron-gray in the sunlight; deserted and silent, 
one indulges in many a curious reverie as to the 
people whose footsteps once roused the echoes of its 
now untenanted halls. The interior is barren of its 
old-time furnishings, but throughout are very human 
finger-marks. 

A narrow carved staircase in the hall, and a buffet 
in the corner of the parlor, are unique and beautiful ; 
graced with its old-fashioned blue Dutch ware, the 
latter must have been more beautiful. Made of pine, 
and wrought entirely by hand with the rude tools 
of the time, one wonders at the excellent art and the 
elaborateness of the buffet of a c^uaint shell pattern, 
which well matches the wainscoting, shoulder-high 
about the room. The windows, the same that have 
been here since the house was built, are of good size 
and well glazed. The architecture of the front door 
is ambitious and noticeable; and there is a flavor of 
old-time aristocracy about the entrance to this an- 
cient mansion, standing alone, with its silent knocker 



122 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



that has no friend to sound its ahirni ; with its mem- 
ories of olden days looking out its blurred panes, as 
out of eyes tired with looking in vain for the old 
forms that darkened them so many years ago, and 
that will never come back. 

I have passed this house in the darkness of the 
night, and it seemed to me as if its dwellers in pro- 
^'incial days must be there in spirit, if not in body. 
It was an uncanny thought, yet I doubt if I 
should have been much startled had I seen the 



\ V.!, i r) . 




jrv 4^4'"''^ 






fe-3s-iii5?r^^rl 



,JJ.'iH-'i 



THE TATE HOUSE 



flickering candle-flames reflecting their dim light 
upon the windows that looked out upon the high- 
way. I have no difficulty in re-peopling these old 
houses. I think their inmates nuist have been like 
other people; less selfish perhaps, more quaint in 
speech and manner, but men and women, like our- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 123 

selves, with likes and dislikes, and with secrets, 
may be. 

The romances of their old homes which one en- 
counters in one place and another along the older 
highways, snugly ensconced within the shelter of 
some tree-shadowed hillside, as if shrinking from the 
gaze of passers-by, their roof-trees grown decrepit, 
sagging deeper with each succeeding year, as if tired 
of so long holding up their mossy roofs, are buried 
romances; but these places held many a simple life, 
and knew many a grand deed which has never been 
written, except upon the hearts of those who knew 
their dwellers, or in the Great Book. One feels a 
touch of pity at the sight of their windows looking 
outward with a dull vacant stare of half-conscious 
apathy at the w'orld's desertion. At other times 
there seems to be just a hint of suspicion lingering 
about them, as if it were hardly the thing to be left 
with only a pair of ragged Lombardy poplars to tell 
the story of one's decayed gentility; and again, there 
are traces of the old importance in the flashing panes 
of some ancient, two-story, hip-roofed mansion 
hedged about with the gnarled apple-trees that knew 
the old house in its younger days, and knew the 
young life going in and out over its century-old 
threshold. These old houses have big, warm hearts 
for those who know- them best ; and a life of comfort 
for the dwellers in them. 

This house in particular has been a remarkable one 
in its day. Its superior architecture was the badge 
of an old-time aristocracy that placed it far above 



124 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



the plel)eian dwellings that in after years grew up 
within sight of its one red chimney. Singular to 

record, the hearth 
fires of these ple- 
beian dwellings 
still have a cheery 
welcome for the 
comer, while the 
hearth of this de- 
serted aristocrat 
is cold and tireless 
and stark, and 
forever forsaken, 
A 1 1 attempts to 
keep up appear- 
ances are laid aside ; 
even the front- 
yard fence, — for 
I know there must 
have been in those 
prim Puritan days 
something of that 
sort which the 
house drew about 
itself to keep the 
common herd 
away from its pri- 
vacy — is simply indicated by the huge elms, a-row, 
that overshadow^ its front windows, growing in the' 
side of the highw^ay that has for so many years 
led past its worn, but footless threshold. The gray 




DOOR OF TATE HOUSE 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 125 

shingles on the roof are thin from years of ex- 
posure; and curled, and split, and twisted into 
forlorn shape, laying bare the roof boards; and 
making bad leaks, and flooding ceilings when the 
rains come. I noticed on the door of the front 
entrance, the old brass knocker which had the sem- 
blance of iron, so black was it from want of use or 
scouring. I wondered how long ago it was last used 
to warn the house of a ceremonious caller, or of the 
coming of some stranger who wished for its hospital- 
ity. Once within its narrow doorway, a strange feel- 
ing stole over me as my footsteps resounded through 
the vacant rooms; while the stairs leading to the 
chambers creaked with such noisy answer to my 
passage over them, that it seemed as if my intrusion 
upon the long silence were resented by some indig- 
nant spirit. There was a strange smell of dampness, 
and sense of uninhabitableness about the place, that 
made these impressions all the more vivid; yet it 
gave me a certain pleasure to imagine myself not 
alone; but attended and entertained by my unseen 
host, who must, in some way, have had his eye upon 
the property all these years, that it should have been 
so well preserved. There was a big pile of straw in 
one of the chambers, and this was the only sign of 
humanity about the place; unless the one or two 
charred sticks of firewood that I had seen upon the 
broad hearth of the kitchen below told of the fire 
once kindled there. All the rooms below were wains- 
coted to -the height of the eye ; and of them all, the 
parlor had the greatest charm, with its buffet and 



126 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 




THE BUFFET 



deep window-seats, and ample fireplace, with high 
old-fashioned mantel. The woodwork had been 
painted white originally, and the gloss had not de- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 127 

parted from the i^aint wholly at this late day. AVhat 
a handsome old room it must have been at one time, 
furnished with oddly-patterned furniture, no doubt 
brought from old England with much trouble and 
expense! If the furnishings of this room were in ac- 
cordance with the simple elegance the carpenters 
gave it, it must have been a luxurious apartment, 
with the antique l^rass-dogs to hold the blazing fire 
on the hearth ; a half dozen tallow dips held bravely 
up in as many brass candlesticks; all polished to 
their brightest ; and the customary mug of flip warm- 
ing upon the ruddy coals, with a bit of grated cinna- 
mon sprinkled on the top to give it a foreign flavor. 
The round, brass-mounted, brightly polished mahog- 
any table, drawn into the centre of the room, on 
either side of which were goodman Tate and his 
equally ancient dame, completed the picture. The 
crackle of the fire, the questioning purr of the house 
cat, and the sizzle of the hot teakettle depending 
from the black crane, make the music of this fire- 
side, and its company as well; unless some belated 
traveller has come in to warm himself in the l)laze; 
or to inquire the way to Broad's tavern, which was 
in fact just over the hill, but which, on a dark night 
might as well have been a league away, for the mat- 
ter of one's seeing its fire-lighted windows from the 
highw^ay at this point. There was much to think of 
in the way of personal history of the builder of this 
great house, great in the days of its building, and 
who became the founder of a notable family. He 
was the successor of Colonel Westbrook as mast-agent 



128 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

of the king, coming hither prior to 1756. His family- 
extraction was of the most unexceptionable quality 
and character; being a direct descendant of the De 
La Prey Abbey Tates of Northamptonshire, England. 
Of his three nephews, it may be said in passing, 
two were in turn. High Sheriffs and Lord Mayors of 
London; and the other was an Ambassador of Henry 
VnL to the Court of France. George Tate was at 
one time a seaman on the first frigate built by Peter 
the Great, who learned the carpenter's trade at 
Saardam, Holland, antl wdio afterward went to Lon- 
don to learn the art of ship-building, so he might 
the better direct personally the erection of his own 
navy, and the building of the fortifications about 
St. Petersburg. After that he came to Maine, as 
purchasing agent for the Russian Peter, to buy the 
spars for the new Russian Navy. 

George Tate of Stroudwater, his service with Peter 
the Great completed, set himself to the fomiding of 
a family. The result was four sons. Three of these 
became seafaring men, and became notable in their 
chosen spheres of action. Of these, George, the 
third son, distinguished himself alcove the others. 
He entered the Russian naval service in 1770, ob- 
taining the appointment as lieutenant under Cath- 
erine II. His English pluck stood him in good stead, 
for his advance was rai)id; and he particularly dis- 
tinguished himself in the wars with the Turks. 

In 1790 the Russians laid siege to Ismail fortress 
at the mouth of the Danube. In the final storming 
of the fort l^y which the place was captured with an 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 129 

immense booty, yomig Tate was womided. The fa- 
mous Suwarrow was in command, and Tate was pro- 
moted, receiving from the Empress Catherine a 
medal. He was also made an Admiral, and as a 
further evidence of her royal favor, she presented 
him with her miniature set with diamonds. Subse- 
quently, the Emperor Alexander created him First 
Admiral, and made him a member of the Russian 
senate. He was the recipient of several distinguished 
orders from the sovereigns to whom he rendered ser- 
vice at one time or another. He afterwards became 
a Rear- Admiral, and for all his foreign service, did not 
forget his friends at home, among whom were to be 
reckoned the Deerings, and Kents. He died in 1821, 
having never married, and as the " Gentleman's Maga- 
zine," London, said, "fulle of years and honors." 
Robert, the fourth son, was the grandfather of the 
wife of Joseph Walker, a distinguished and beloved 
citizen of Portland in his lifetime. 

The elder Tates were of a hardy and resolute 
character, energetic and thrifty; and their careers 
were of the strenuous sort that went to the building 
up of that kind of manhood which has made New 
England famous; and to-day, the descendants of the 
king's mast-agent may be found living within a 
stone's throw of the old mansion l^uilt nearly one 
hundred and sixty years ago. The date of its erec- 
tion is set around 1755, and its builder died at Fal- 
mouth in 1794, and is remembered as one of the 
founders of the first Episcopal Church in Portland, 
and who served as one of its first wardens. 



130 



YK ROMANCE OF CA:SCO BAY 



1 imagine a great many things might have hap- 
pened to a pioneer in these parts out of the common, 
of adventure and perilous episode ; and among them 
comes to mind one that became a tragedy of the most 
unfortunate sort. The story was related to me on 
the spot, and to make more sure of the reality I go 
to the door that looks out upon the tangle of a long 
disused garden where stood in the days of yore the 

family storehouse. 
Here is a veritable 
tangle of briars, or 
should be according to 
the eternal fitness of 
things, with so much 
of neglect and abandon- 
ment. A small frame 
structure is still stand- 
ing, which was shown 
to me by my cicerone, as the old storehouse; and 
as a place which had come to be avoided after 
nightfall by reason of the grewsome tale which hung 
thereby; and which, old and weather-worn as it is, 
has a peculiar fascination for me. The conjuring 
process begins, and the picture is limned; and the 
only regret I have in mind is, that the thief did not 
get what was intended for him, — an unchristian 
feeling, undoubtedly, but honest enough, withal. 

It is cold and damp these first days of May, and I 
go to the straw-pile in the long-ago forsaken chamber. 
How the straw happened to be there I do not know; 
however, it is damp enough and mouldy enough to 




^? 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY lol 

discourage anyone in search of fuel. The old bel- 
lows that once hung to the chimney-jamb is gone; 
but I manage to get the charred wood in the kitchen 
fireplace into a feeble blaze for company's sake; but 
only a smoke smudge answers my diligent effort; a 
smoke which hangs about the mouth of the dusky 
flue, as if it were uncertain whether to go up or not. 
Whether it does the one thing or the other, I hardly 
know, so deeply am I involved in one vagary and 
another. 

In this, as in all patrician households of the time, 
there were huge fireplaces, and all else was kept up 
on the same generous scale. Huge hampers of gro- 
ceries were brought from over the ocean, that were 
on extra occasions to be drawn upon and enjoyed; 
and the Tates were, like most of their neighbors, 
abundantly provided with luxuries, and those which 
were brought, or sent by the admiral, were treasured 
in high degree; and were said to have been deposited 
in this selfsame outhouse along with the commoner 
stores for the family table. This might have been a 
safer depository in those days than now, when its 
sagging door, warped and split by the weather, hangs 
by a single old hand-wrought hinge to its hewn pine 
lintel, leaving the floorless, barren interior to be in- 
vaded by every vagrant wind. 

Unfortunately for the goodman's peace of mind 
and the good wife's comfort, this precious store of 
luxuries was being unaccountably depleted. 

Was there a thief? 

One loss after another occurs, until one of the 



132 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

boys, taking the law into his own hands, set a spring- 
gim at the storehouse door, hoping therel^y to deter 
the culprit from further cherishing sinister designs 
upon these expensive delicacies. These were not over- 
honest times, to be sure, but in this pioneer settle- 
ment of Stroudwater, all were counted honest, for 
here was a reputable community. None was more 
so. 

But William Tate counted wrongly on his victim. 

The next morning goodwife Tate sent black Betty 
to the storehouse for some needed supplies; but the 
servant, fearful of the gun, returned without having 
performed her errand ; whereupon, the goodwife took 
it upon herself to get what she desired; and though 
conscious of the danger, and doubtless exercising the 
utmost care, was killed by the deadly device. 

It is a barren thread upon which to hang so tragic 
a legend; but, as is frequently the case in these later 
times, the accident dilated into a hideous crime ; and 
the community did not hesitate to accuse young 
Tate of having had evil designs upon his mother, 
looking upon the alleged losses as a myth, a specious 
ruse to cover up a matricidal intent. 

The old man who had the key to the front door, 
and who kindly unlocked it for me, knew but little 
more than the sombre outline I have here repeated. 
He did not know where the young man Tate was 
apprehended, only that the ancient Court records 
show the finding of an indictment upon which a sub- 
sequent arrest was made, and a trial was had before 
good men and true of the Province; and that a ver- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 133 

diet of "Guilty," was declared, and a sentence of 
death was imposed. As if that were not enough, 
after all. 

To my own mind, the apprehension should have 
been here in this old kitchen, in the small hours of 
the night, when its silences lent a sharper edge to 
remorse; or w^hen the storm beset the old roof-tree 
with imperious accusation; and the howling winds 
beat against the windows; or rattled up the side of 
the house, along the roof and down the chimney, 
driving the dense smoke into the low-ceiled room, to 
the great discomfort of its tenant, until his eyes wept 
tears of smarting annoyance; while great floods of 
wet came down the throat of the huge chimney to 
put out the last vestige of fire in the wide fireplace. 

It is reasonable to believe that young Tate suffered 
sufficiently, — he would have been doubly inhuman 
had he not done so; but to my mind, he should have 
been afraid of the dark. 

He should have piled the fire higher with fuel. Its 
flame should have been made to have leapt up the 
chimney-throat with a louder and more angry roar- 
ing. The w'inds should have risen higher, and the 
rain should have fallen in floods. He should have 
gotten quickly into the way of seeing things, in the 
dancing shadows on the walls, that were uncanny 
and awesome ; but there is no evidence of these facts. 
So far as he was concerned, the offense was of a 
purely technical character; but the law was like that 
of the Medes and Persians, and a verdict for the Crown 
was a foregone conclusion. Luckily for him, the 



134 



)'A^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



king was the Court of Last Resort, and the royal 
pardon was not difficult to obtain. In time it had 
been brought across the seas; and William Tate, 
absolved, was restored to his estates and his char- 
acter, and the companionship and respect of his fel- 




THE TATE HOMESTEAD 



lows ; for William was a merchant who had his edu- 
cation in England, and well-known for his honesty 
and kindheartedness ; and if one desires to see one 
of his landmarks, one has only to glance at the old 
store where Mr. Andrew Hawes still carries on the 
trade begun by William Tate and continued by 
Robert Tate, his son, the father of the Tates now 
living at Stroudwater. George also built ships here. 
But this all happened before the days of sleuth 
newspaper reporters, staring headlines and private 
detectives, — otherwise, what might one not have 
looked for, all for the sake of a breakfast-table story. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



135 



But the sun is getting down in the sky, and the 
shadows are creeping over the kitchen-floor and up 
the side of the fireplace. I reahze that I have been 
here a great while; and a shiver creeps over me. A 
moment more, and I have passed through the ancient 
parlor into the hall, laying my hand for a moment 
upon the carved balustrade, and stepping from the 




worn doorstep out into the wholesome air, full of 
salt smell from the marshes with the tide well out, 
and just a bit a-tremble with the whir of the big 
stones of the old salt-mill at the bridge. I look back 
at the house, and my cicerone has closed the door; 
the knocker jars a trifle as it is shut. I look at the 
old rookery, of once grand traditions, with the wish 
that I might have known its bulkier personally; but 
its dusty window-panes have no ray of intelligence; 
and from the flat doorstone to the top of the crum- 



136 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

bling chimney, the gray memorial of the old colonial 
days is silent and inscrutable. There is a strange 
persistence about it, for I turn a half a dozen times 
to take a parting look of a place I have not seen 
from that day to this. If there had been anything 
in the old house to have rummaged a bit, it might 
have seemed more human. There was nothing 
but the hazy memories of those whose disembodied 
spirits seem still to linger here; and this must ac- 
count for the feeling that dogged my footsteps down 
the road until the thick elms had built a barrier to 
hide all but its ruddy chimney, which seemed to 
catch a cheerful tinge from the deep glow of the 
setting sun. 




HARROW HOUSE 








HARROW HOUSE 

ARROW HOUSE was the name 
of the old-time manor that 
covered many of the Stroud- 
water acres in the days when 
Harmon of York, Moulton 
of Wells, and the Jesuit, 
Rasle, with his " Frenchified 
Indians," were the chief 
actors on the local stage. 
It was the old manse of Col. Thomas M, West- 
brook, who, in his latter life, made it his home when 
he was not about the king's affairs, branding the 
giants of the woods with the " broad arrow," or 
hunting " redskins " in the wilds of Norridgewock. 
It was here he died; and the ancient manor by the 
edge of Fore River did not long survive its master. 

Down the highway, a little back from this broad,, 
glimmering tide-river over which I have come, and 
over the hill from the house I have described, is a 
rollicking stream of perennial spring water, that 
comes from somewhere out in the depths of West- 
brook's thick pine woods, to find its way blocked by 
a narrow, but lofty, dan:i across the deep, dark fiiraie; 

139 



140 



YJ^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



that makes the bed of the stream, — a dam full of 
seams and crevices, through which a score of tiny 
streams find their way, to fall among the black rocks 
far below with graceful poise and noisy rhythm and 
spatter of drops that catch from sun and sky swift 
reflections of glorious color. It is a deep channel 
that one looks down into from the sagging rail of 
the dilapidated bridge; a channel that has been 




THE GRIST MILL 



made, in the years gone by, by these waters rushing 
without let or hindrance through this schistose ledge, 
that shows the dip of its stratified formation the 
whole of the way back, from the wet sands of the 
creek, with its acres of drooping, marsh grass, to this 
crest of the upland, where it furnishes the founda- 
tion to the old corn mill. To this old mill the country 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 141 

folk come even now with their corn and wheat grist, 
paying the miller his toll of a tenth for the grinding. 
One may see the same ancient, wide-mouthed hop- 
pers, into which the bags of grain are emptied; or, 
if one likes the feeling of the meal as it comes hot 
from the great burr-stones, whose whirring sets the 
mill-timbers a-tremble, he may catch it as it drops 
from the tiny tin cups on their endless belt of leather, 
emptying their burdens into the meal box, whence 
it is filled into the wide-open bags with a battered 
tin scoop of a pattern as ancient as the mill itself. 
Here are methods, and appliances, as ({uaint and old- 
fashioned as were our ancestors when these lands 
were first put to raising corn and wheat; and a 
strange bit of the old way of doing things it is, to 
be found within sight of the roofs and spires of a 
bustling city. 

Northward from the highway across Fore River 
is another old mill of great antiquity, as things go 
hereabout. It is perched high up the side of the 
narrow gorge among the gray birches ; the only thing 
left of its stout dam, and the wdiarf that kept it com- 
pany, but little of which latter now remains. The 
tide at its flood creeps up to lap the wobbly-looking 
piles, as it has every day for a century and a half ; 
and the west wind blows the white caps beyond, to 
meet the trickling silver of the Capisic as it filters 
through the slippery rocks that run, ever narrowing 
up, and into the gray shadows of the ravine that 
shows beyond, the low roof of a weather-stained 
farmhouse of the old regime. This is in such thor- 



142 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

ough keeping with the old mill of the Capisic, there 
is such a consonance of ancientness, that one takes 
a swift journey to dreamland, to come back as empty- 
handed as one went. 

This old mill is doubtless a close follower of the 
grist mill built by one Ingersoll along with the sec- 
ond settlement of Stogummor. Ingersoll's mill was 
destroyed in the first Indian war, and there is every 
reason to believe that this structure was the next to 
serve the hardy settler with his salt and meal. It 
must have been a famous place in the old days, when 
a ride on horseback to mill, and back, over the narrow 
trails with the "blazed" trees for guideboards was 
the whole of a day's journey. What stories its old 
beams and walls might tell had they the tongues of 
men — stories of perilous times and episodes ! For 
a hundred and forty years it has stood, the relic 
of busier days, deserted by man and all else — 
unless the swallows build under its eaves — with the 
flavor of scraps of horn to savor its breath ; for here 
were manufactured combs less than a century ago. 
When that industry was abandoned, the place was 
deserted altogether. It is a rare study for the 
sketcher. The old, moss-grown roof is as stanch as 
ever, with its roof-tree of pumpkin-pine uphekl by 
huge and sturdy rafters, though the old, shrunk 
w^indow-sashes rattle in the wind, and the winter 
snows find their way through the creviced walls and 
over the silent flooring. The sea-green window-panes 
light up with the same red blaze of sunset as of old, 
a warm fellowshij) in the gray setting of a weather- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 143 

beaten, weather-stained (lecrepitude, — for this old 
building is just that; with a huge shaft of its overshot 
wheel pulled from its pit, and rotting at its very- 
threshold ; while the leaky old flume is as completely 
absent as if it had never existed. The clumsy burr- 
stones are gone, and their song is the song of silence. 
To look one way from this old bridge, is to see this 
arm of the sea filled to its brim of willow-fringed 
marsh by the inflowing tide ; its farther margin fretted 
by low black wharves, that set hardly above high- 
water mark; with their black warehouses, above the 
roofs of which are the thick-set spars of the vessels, 
and rising above them all, the smoky chimneys and 
glistening roofs of the seaport town. To turn one's 
back upon this picture of sea, and ships, and houses, 
is to see the old post-road winding up the hill to 
Broad's tavern, that lies just beyond its farther slope. 
It is an old, worn country road, with grass growing 
close down to the deep ruts made by the teams that 
are constantly going and coming through the day; 
with deep ditches outside these grassy margins ; with 
rills of melted snow water trickling down their muddy 
banks, and rambling walls of cobble stone surmount- 
ing all; over which lean the outposts of the strag- 
gling orchards on either side, — all leading up, up 
to the hilltop, till they meet the bluest of blue sky. 
Just above this old grist-mill is the green cup of the 
mill-pond, with its placid sheet of water just a bit 
ruffled by the wind that is blowing up from the south 
on this spring day ; for I have chosen what the coun- 
trymen designate as "mud time" in the calendar of 



144 yA' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

the year as the day for my outhig. Beyond this 
foreground lay a middle ground of meadow land, 
with its brook drowsy with the slow pace the slug- 
gish mill-pond compels it to take. Its pathway, with 
all the modesty one is likely to find in nature, courts 
the leafless tangles of the black alders, or of the 
yellow-green catkins that flaunt their new-born color, 
not only in this bit of meadow, but in every other 
wet place as well. Smooth sloping farm-lands, that 




THE MEADOW 



reach away in gentle undulations to the woods, hem 
the meadow in; and just back of the mill, peeping 
over the crest of the higher lands, is the red chimney 
of a farmhouse, with its blue ribbon of smoke lazily 
curling upward into the tops of the elms that reach 
out widely above it. The whole has a decidedly 
English aspect. It is one of Birket Foster's bits of 
landscape; a quiet composition enough, and made 
up of warm tones, for all there are patches of snow 
in the edges of the woods and hints of lingering frost 
in the roads. Here it is: a bit of meadow, a glint of 
running water, with a boy and his alder fishpole 
beside it, — but it is too early to catch trout ; a girl 
with ruddy cheeks and wind-blown hiiir to keep him 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



145 



sympathizing company; a house-roof and a gHmpse 
of chimney through the thick tops of the willow 
hedges; a stately elm, and over all, a patch of blue 
sky. Had it come from Birket Foster's brush, it 
would have seemed hardly less real than Nature's 
own sketching. It is a delightful sketch for one to 





\:/i^^^::^^^^^^^ i'^^m^- 




A VISION OF HARROW HOUSE 



carry in his mental portfolio; for to look at it, is to 
hear the splash and spatter of this river in miniature, 
and feel the spring winds drinking up the dampness 
in the roads and fields, blowing up the runs and over 
the uplands with a marvellous quality of vigor and 
freshness. 

There is more room in these parts, now, than when 
the builder of Harrow House came here something 
less than two hundred years ago. The woods are 
not so thick, and the farming lands are in sight every- 



146 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



where. There are wood-lots, but no forests ; the field 
and pasture acreage exceeds that of the woodlands 
by a large percentage. There is more breathing 
space; and from the rise in the highway toward the 
Broad Tavern the outlook is a far-reaching one. The 
fields slope to the southward with a gentle inclina- 
tion, ending in a slender cape of thick pine growth 




THE SITE OF HARROW HOUSE 



that reaches out its darkly-foliaged finger into the 
bright w^aters of the river basin. It is evident that 
these park-like areas about the shores of this inland 
sea, with its nearness to the larger sea beyond the 
land of Pur Poodack, led the people who came from 
England into this part of the Province of Maine, with 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



147 



their English-bred incHnation toward beautiful es- 
tates, to select these lands in the vicinage of Stroud- 
water most frequently as mansion sites, — as one 
may discover by a visit to this region. 

Here was the grand residence of Colonel West- 
brook, which bore the aristocratic, and English-like 
title of Harrow House. Harrow House has not been 
in existence since the memory of the 
oldest inhabitant; but down on this 
point of land by the river, overshadowed 
by a dense growth of pines, dark and 
silent, is still pointed out to the curious 
wayfarer the ruined walls of its old 
cellar, now overgrown with dwarf birch 
trees, and choked with dead vines of 
briars. It must have been a noble 
place when its distinguished dweller of 
the earlier colonial days kept open house 
here, and entertained with princely hos- 
pitality, as befitted a man in his station. 

It was while living here that West- 
brook commanded the Penobscot ex- 
pedition, which brought home among 
its numerous trophies the papers of the 
Jesuit Rasle, upon the destruction of Norridgewock. 

This exploit brought him, no doubt, the further 
distinction of becoming chief-in-command of the 
frontier forces. He was at one time His Majesty's 
mast-agent; and I have heard old men who knew 
these woods well in more primitive days, say they had 
seen, long after the Revolution, the king's broad 



\ 



148 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 




KING'S ARROW 



arrow upon not a 
few of the towering 
monarchs of the 
forests hereabout, 
undoubtedly put 
there by West- 
brook's hand. 
There were mast 
yards upon the 
shore that looked 
eastward upon this 
bit of ocean, and it 
would seem reason- 
able that more 
than one good ship 
came into the 
shelter of these 
waters to step a 
new mast, or to 
replace her lost or 
disabled spars. 
How much it must 
have differed in 
those far-off days, 
with its rude activ- 
ities, from what it 
\ is to-day, with its 
drowsy woodland 
silences and d e- 
serted shores ! 
Among the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 149 

grievances, real or iniaginetl, that were entertained 
by the colonists about the time the term "Boston 
Rebel" began to be used, was the putting of the 
"broad arrow" of the king upon the best and tallest 
trees in the forest. Westbrook, for all I know, may 
have had his assistants in this work of labelling these 
pine monarchs of the king's choice; but I have 
no hint of such a fact historically, — and I imagine 
he must have been too busy in the woods most of 
the time, had this been the case, to go Indian hunt- 
ing among the wilds of Norridgewock, if the seal of 
the royal injunction were to be found upon every 
shapely pine or spruce. But the complaint nmst 
have been in some sort magnified by the ow'ners of 
these inmiense forests, that in those days might be 
called limitless, — days w4ien the rarest of pumpkin 
l^ine was not only used for spars and masts, and in 
the construction of houses whose lightest roof tim- 
bers w^ere not less than a foot square; and when 
nothing that betrayed the slightest sign of a knot or 
stain of pitch was eligible for the inside finish, or even 
the outside dress of the house, and when things were 
made to last "a hundred years to a day;" not only 
this, but when the stateliest trees were w' antonly felled 
for firew^ood, or to make the clearings about the set- 
tlement a bit more ample ; or to add to the acres about 
the log-house, — trees — the massive trunks of which, 
priceless in these days of threatened scarcity and 
drought among the pine woods, were left prone and 
helpless along the field fences, or strewn about the 
back-lots that are white with rye every August ; or in 



150 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

the woods among the mulorbrush; to be the source 
of much curious (questioning on the part of strangers 
to the topography of the home acres, who discover 
for the first time these dumb witnesses of the van- 
dahsm of the ancestor of a lialf-dozen generations 
ago. 

I have seen in my wanderings in the newer, second- 
growth w^oodlands of the northern part of the coun- 
try, more than one stately tree of yellow birch upheld 
by its tripod of stout, purple-stained roots reaching 
down on either side of a prostrate forest giant that 
was once a stalwart pine, with a rare kindly touch 
and clinging grace. The sap of this fallen tree has 
been transmuted by the moisture of the rains, and 
snows, and the woodland shadows, into a rime of 
brownish-red decayed matter, as soft to the touch as 
plush; which imparts a delightful sense of coolness, 
on a hot midsummer day, when it crumbles in one's 
hand to the semblance of fine flour, tinged with deep 
sienna color. • The log itself, partly covered with the 
leaves that have so many autumns drifted down 
from the tree-tops, and spotted with wood-moss, and 
lichen, and all the strange forms of polypori that 
thrive in damp places, is hardly to be distinguished 
from the yielding scurf in which it lies half buried; 
and which, stripped of its mummy-like wrapping of 
rotten wood — for this is all it is — reveals the big 
stout heart of an ancient pine, whose color is akin to 
the fine warm tint of a salmon steak cut from one of 
Penobscot's rarest catch. I have in mind a strip of 
woodland — more familiar in my boyhood than now 



y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



151 



— that overlooked a bit of meadow ; long and nar- 
row it was; and there were scores of these huge pine 
trees to be found lying in every direction across the 
floors of the woods, many of them not less than 
three to four feet in diameter. They would scale 
thousands of feet; and saw into boards of extra di- 
mensions, cut up at the saw-mill, if it were not easier 
and cheaper to "log" 
the sapling growth 
that stands so thick- 
ly about, than to dig /LSyT^oS^Jf^ZU/// t,i 
these half-buried, 
centurv-old m o n- 




\jm\ 



sters from their rest- 
ing-places. I know 
for a fact, that these 
woods were once 
mowing lands. No 
one is alive to-day who has mowed about these 
immense tree trunks that are now so deeply hidden 
within the shadows of a new forest; but these acres 
are all named, as one may see by reading the titles 
to them. 

Men were as jealous for their domain, and as pica- 
yunish in many respects, then, as they are now, — 
as if there were not pine trees in sufficient number 
on these new shores to supply all the needs that they 
might know during their brief stay upon them; or 
the needs of their posterity who might succeed to 
their clearings. 

I have no doubt, had Westbrook been less fond of 



152 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

using the royal prerogative of the broad arrow within 
his hniited province, liis n(Mghl)ors would have been 
no less prodigal, felling and burning their acres for 
wider fields. But it is human nature to resent en- 
croachment upon private rights, even if it is sanc- 
tioned by the " divine right of kings." 

I climb the low wall between the field and the 
highway, and go down the slope, through the limp 
stubble, sodden and drenched with the melted snows, 
to this old cellar, closely hedged about with scrub 
pines and wild cherry bushes; with gray birches with 
their tops bent to the ground where the winter has 
left them; with scrawny sumac, its bark covered 
with a soft yellow nap; with all the tangle of bush 
and briar that hold in all old pastures the approaches 
to the woods, — as if there could ever have been a 
fine old English house here in this wilderness. But 
this is the site of Harrow House, if all tales are true, 
— and it is pleasant to think they are. 

The reader will pardon me if I digress from all 
that remains of Harrow House, to speak of two, very 
old houses in the immediate vicinity, undoubtedly 
built full one hundred and forty years ago. Stroud- 
water is rich in these mementos of the old days. 
The old Broad Tavern just over the crest of the hill 
is in the heyday of a respectable yet thrifty old age. 
This side of the hill is the Fickett House, once the 
old Stroudwater garrison. One can see the timbers 
of the once blockhouse by an inspection of the inte- 
rior; but the structure has been so modernized, that 
in its neatly white painted exterior and fresh green 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



153 



blinds, the wayfarer would little dream that it had 
ever been a stronghold against Indian attack. Yet 
on this identical spot the settlers hereabout in the 
troublous times that followed the French occupation, 
built their heavily-timbered blockhouse and stock- 
ade. Night after night the hardy frontiersman 
brought his family hither as the gray shadows 




FICKETT HOUSE 



hinted the going down of the sun, the intangible sug- 
gestions of color, in misty threads and grotesque 
shapes in the woodland, thrilling the alert imagina- 
tion, tainted with sup*erstition, oftentimes with a 
sudden dread. Distance did not count in those early 
times; and on horseback, or afoot, the backwoods- 
man, with wife and children, sought shelter and the 
good cheer of companionship in peril; to sleep in se- 



154 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



curity until the next dawn; rising with the sun to 
return homeward by the "spotted" trees; thankful 
for their own safety, yet always expecting to see, 
instead of the humble log-cabin amid the tasselled 
maize, a heap of smouldering ashes. Back they went 
then to their clearings, to take up the labor of the 
previous day. 

Among the oldest houses at Stroudwator is the 




PATRICK HOUSE 



little, one-story Patrick House. It may well be called 
one of the oldest in Maine. Its coat of durable, yel- 
low paint gives it a dressy, youthful look, yet it is 
very old. Patrick built his house, and then went 
to England after the woman who was to be his wife. 
She came over in the Pink and Dolphin, a schooner 
built almost within a stone's throw of the old house 
at the mouth of Little Stroudwater River. It has 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



155 



been said that here was a busy shipyard, where there 
had been seen no less than fourteen vessels on their 
ways at one time. Patrick and his wife set up house- 
keeping in this yellow house, that is older than the 
Tate House. 

The story is told of the days of the Indian out- 
break — how Mrs. Patrick came 
in from her milking at sundown, 
bringing in each hand a pail of 
foaming milk, to set them on the 
old pine table, after which she 
started upon another errand; 
but before she had left the low 
kitchen, a stealthy footstep told 
her she was not alone. She 
turned backward, to see the 
dusky shadows of two Sunapes 
cross the threshold; and before 
she could speak, each in silence 
had raised a pail of milk to his 
lips and was drinking his fill. 
She watched them, speechless in 
her terror, and defenceless in her 
loneliness, expecting momently 
to be killed by the savages. 

"Ugh!" 

It was the Sunape salutation and thanks in one. 
Silently they passed out of the house, to disappear in 
the gloom of the woods. 

I have come to a considerable depression or hol- 
low in the ground, with a slightly elevated rim about 




CRUCIFIX FOUND AT 
NORRIDGEWOCK 



15G yi ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

it, that reminds one of a deserted circus ring; only 
this old cellar is somewhat oblong in shape, if indeed 
it has any shape at all, — and, standing beside it in 
the bright sunshine, a mere suggestion of the old 
ruin before me, I could but realize how much a crea- 
ture of circumstance, how nuich the sport of nature, 
man is. 

Here was once a spacious park; with perhaps a 
stately country house adorning it; with facade, por- 
tico, and pillar peeping out between its stately elms, 
to get a view of the river and of its master as he came 
sailing in with wind and tide, — the white sails of 
his sloop not a whit whiter than the mansion itself. 
No doubt Westbrook sailed up this river many a 
time in the night; and I can imagine the lantern 
signalling, to and fro, as he made the landing-wharf 
somewhere about the lower end of the point, — as 
there was possibly deeper water for the ships there- 
abouts. This may have been a Utopia once; but it 
is now, hardly better than a tangle of dwarf growth, 
without a single hint of humanity about the place, 
except an isolated apple-tree, scraggy, unshorn, and 
for that matter unknown, if one is to judge by the 
quantities of frozen apples among the leaves that 
drifted over them as they dropped one by one last 
fall. 

Nature has full sway here, for the speech of the 
wind is all these bushes hear from one day to another, 
unless it be the dripping of the rain on wet days. 
There is a remarkably persistent quality about this 
universal law which men call Nature, for the want of 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 157 

a better name, whose silent activities are most to be 
guarded against. Plough the garden and plant your 
seed, and the weeds are staring you in the face with 
a singular imperturbability, as they eat and drink 
the sap and substance you have provided for others. 
Leave your smooth pasture, or your mowing-lands to 
the care of the wind and rain, and a decade will raise 
you a crop of stunted pines instead of herdsgrass; or 
cover them with patches of blueberry bushes; and a 
hedge of brambles will have hidden the fences about 
them. Men may sleep, but the spirit of life, the 
spirit of renewal goes on with its eternal work, renew- 
ing and rebuilding, or destroying and tearing down, 
growing or decaying. Nature, robust, luxuriant with 
vegetation, tireless, constant, in season and out of 
season, dominates everything and everyw^here; com- 
prising everything, — time, matter, space, and the 
elemental forces: all are hers, in all the variety of 
the Infinite conception. Here it is, with all these 
things within her control, that Nature has the advan- 
tage over men. She is never compelled to resort to 
weak and apparent subterfuges, or equivocations to 
crown her work with success. Her story is the story 
of to-day, — the story of outdoor realism, the proof- 
sheets of w^hich are spread constantly before every- 
body who has eyes and ears. Nature tells things as 
they are. 

Therein lies her superiority over men, who are cow- 
ards; or who are the unfortunate victims of a de- 
fective eyesight; and who try to soften Nature's un- 
yielding lines of rugged makeup, as if they could tell 



158 



Yi^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 




WESTBROOK TRENCHER 



her story best. Can you write a water-ripple in a 
single ink-stained line — or the sound of a dropping 
stone as it strikes its placid surface? Can you trans- 
late the deafening crack, the terrible jarring of the 

thunder, or describe the path- 
way of the lightning to the 
earth? Is there among men 
the interpreter of that beauty 
that makes a day in June so 
rare? This is the realism of 
Nature. These things make 
the poet, for all great truths 
are poems or tragedies, — 
and therein lies Nature's love- 
liness, and her appealing to men. One cannot tell a 
true story without a more, or less, distinct touch of 
realism entering into the story and making a part of 
it. I tell these things as I 
see them here, only with the 
regret that my reader cannot 
see through the lens that has 
revealed them to me; for the 
place, charming as its wild- 
wood surroundings make it, 
is so poverty-stricken in its 
suggestion of human things, 
and of human accjuaintance, 

that I might think myself buried amid the gray 
tops of these leafless trees; another Westbrook plan- 
ning another mansion beside these sparkling waters; 
so firmly has this olden tale of Harrow House taken 




YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 159 

hold upon my sympathy; so real has seemed the 
legend of its olden state and living. 

Harrow House! ^Miat a medley of thought fol- 
lows in the train of this quaint, aristocratic title! 
There is something in its very sound, that, like the 
rubbing of Aladdin's Lamp, conjures into existence a 
host of vagaries. One is of a great, square, many- 
gabled house, with generous chhnneys that crown it 




gracefully, and lend a hint of hospitality to the grand 
air that attaches to such great old-fashioned houses. 
Within, are roomy halls and high-posted apartments; 
all square, and much alike ; with ample light from the 
windows, that east and south look out upon a won- 
derful perspective of color, of water, woodland and 
sky, that are all shut out when the thick mists drift 
in from the sea. Then the fires are lighted in the big 



160 r^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

fireplaces that are found in every room, and lend their 
attractions to keep out the gloom that creeps into 
the great house, with the opening of every door, 
from the wet, dripping world outside. What cosey 
places there are in the chimney corners and in the 
broad window-seats that look north and west through 
vistas of towering elms and prim Lombardy poplars, 

— while the rain beats its tattoo on the little window- 
panes, or the glow of the sunset lights them up! 
Another vagary of mine is, that this fine old mansion, 

— as it must have been, — held to the English coun- 
try ways and service, so hospitable and generous, as 
it was the custom to maintain in many of the colo- 
nial residences in the Dominion of Maine. "Open 
house" had a meaning in those days of royal enter- 
taining, that the rushing, hurrying world of to-day 
knows nothing of, — at least the world that I have 
known, where a chance to take a long breath is a 
luxury. It is another vagary of mine, that the floors 
were waxed to the lustre of a mirror; in which the 
antique furnishings of carved oak and mahogany, and 
the old spinet, — for of course there was one in its 
corner, — were tipped upside down in their reflec- 
tions, as they were arranged about the big rooms: 
and that there were 

" Hanging in shining array along the walls of the chamber, 
Cutlass and corselet of steel, and his trusty sword of Damas- 
cus, 
Curved at the point and inscribed with its mystical Arabic 

sentence, 
While underneath, in a corner, were fowling-piece, musket, 
and match-lock," — 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 161 

as might have been seen in brave jNIiles Standish's 
Plymouth house, when he sent young Alden on his 
amorous errand. What gatherings were here of the 
colonial ehte, before the owner's downfall and death; 
with their courtly manners; their sturdy English 
pluck and physique; their stately dames who could 
not forget their English birth, with their sweet ruddy- 
cheeked girlhood as a mildly-tempered foil! For I 
venture to say there was more than one PrisciUa in 
the house, who knew what it was to have 

"The carded wool like a snowdrift 
Piled at her knee, her white hands feeding the ravenous 
spindle," 

making the fire-lighted rooms, and for that matter 
the whole house, 

" Beautiful with her beauty and rich with the wealth of her 
being." 

And on set occasions, there was more than one gallant 
youth to keep them company. 

But these are vagaries that disappear, as I part the 
portals of these pasture birches on my return to the 
highway up the hill. Like Lot's wife of old, I cannot 
forbear turning about as I climb the slope to the high- 
way, to see if I may not discover the old-time roofs, 
with their incense of blue smoke curling up into the 
sky of this early spring day; or the glimmer of their 
window-panes in the sunlight. But it is a vain wish ; 
for there is only a bit of woodland and a wide stretch 
of water to see, and a stray white sail, — or when 



162 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

the tide is out, the water is become a sea of waving 
marsh grass, the hirking place for many a black- 
winged rail and marsh bird. 

Little, as is known, of Harrow House, there is not 
much more known of its provincial dweller. Gen- 
erous-hearted, impulsive, open-handed, and patrician 
in his tastes and carriage, with but little of the spirit 
to brook serious disaster, though l^rave as a lion and 
of the best of pioneer fighting mettle, a man of in- 
fluence in affairs, it is remarkable that so little is 

known of him in 
a historical way. 
Unlike some men 
whose lesser ex- 
ploits have gained 




for them a biogra- 
phy of some sort, 
the meagre sketch 

7 irC\ ^"^"Z f \ °^ Westbrook that 

has been preserved 
in local history is 
unsatisfactory, leaving its subject shrouded in obscu- 
rity that seems undeserved and ungrateful. Accord- 
ing to a local historian, Westbrook was led into land 
speculations through the influence of General Waldo, 
and others of his trusted friends, which brought him 
only misfortune and disaster. For all his prominent 
services to the Dominion of Maine and its colonies, 
and his worth as a member of the community, broken 
and disheartened by his losses, he died here at Harrow 
House, an insolvent; and his mansion, bc^autiful for 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



163 



those days, was sold at auction to pay his debts. 
Not even his burial-place is known; and nothing re- 
mains to his memory but his name, which was given 
to a part of Falmouth, to-day, one of the most flour- 
ishing and charming of the suburban boroughs which 
border on this old seaport of ante-Revolutionary fame. 

It would have been different, undoubtedly, had 
Waldo been less selfish and unscrupulous, and more 
humane. But for Waldo's unnatural desire to at- 
tach the lifeless body of the unfortunate Westbrook 
for debts into wliich his creditor's ill-advice had 
plunged him, the world would know his last resting- 
place, and would do it honor. Nothing is remem- 
bered to Westbrook's dishonor. He was a brave, 
tender-hearted man, whose generous faith in his own 
kind was larger than his shrew dness. 

The provincial records, the neighlioring graveyard, 
and men's memories as well, are each, and all silent, 
respecting the man whose family found in him, its 
last representative. 




A WAYSIDE INN 








WAYSIDE INN 



fS there anything more abound- 
ing in rest fulness and content, 
more individually charming 
or attractive, than a country 
house grown old, so gracefully, 
that the days when it was young 
have been forgotten? Its sober- 
going disregard of the new-fangled 
notions that get into the roofs — 
heads, I should say, perhaps, — of the 
more modern house family, with their Queen Anne 
delusions, their gingerbread decorations, their ex- 
aggerations and neuralgic affectations of style, is 
delightful. Is there a surer panacea for over-worked 
humanity than one of these quiet, old-fashioned, 
unpretentious domiciles, such as one finds nestling 
under the patriarchal elms along some secluded 
by-way; overlooking some slow-flowing river, with 
its perspective of meadows, and sloping farms 
and blue hills; or buried deep in the afternoon 
shadows of some New Hampshire valley — houses 
whose recommendations are never called for; whose 

167 




168 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

simple comforts are proverbial; comforts that peep 
from the corners of one cosey room and another, 
upstairs, downstairs, in the big kitchen, even, haunted 
here and there by quaint, time-stained furniture of the 
century-old pattern; whose reputations are founded 
upon a good old age — and whose broad roofs and 

stately dignity 
'^It^''%.. are the certifi- 
cates of an emi- 
nent respectabil- 
ity? 

Looks tell in 
houses as in men. Faces have their attractions; so 
have shadowy eaves and sloping roofs, and big- 
topped chimneys. Sometimes they give the houses 
they shelter a bad repute, that is fostered by stories 
of spooks and legends of unsavory doings at untimely 
hours. What surly, glowering visages are such, 
that look out upon untidy front yards, owning per- 
haps a single lonely clump of lilac bushes, with 
pinched, appealing look akin to what one sees in the 
face of a mendicant ; with the dilapidated fence, 
that hedges in an unkempt, flowerless enclosure, 
arousing swift feelings of commiseration, — that kind 
of pity which is better kept to one's self, and which 
hastens one's footsteps down the road in self-de- 
fence! More often than not, the presence of even 
this solitary clump of lilacs is lacking, with its hint 
of freshness, its kindliness of suggestion and rugged 
encouragement, — as if Natvire, after so long a pe- 
riod of doubting hesitancy, and delay about the time 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 169 

of her going, liad excused herself from such ill-man- 
nered company, that did nothing all day long but 
leer at her with eyes stuffed with a motley array of 
rags; or patched here and there with an expression- 
less bit of shingle, for the want of a few cents' worth 
of glass, and putty, and some slight exertion, — way- 
marks common to country highways that lead not 
unlikely to some place known in the region as Poverty 
Corner. I remember once passing through a country 
hamlet, which was better known as Hard-scrabble 
than by the name of the big town that taxed its 
polls ; and there was hardly a house in the place that 
had not a piece of pine shingle, or a bit of old quilt, 
or the crown of a castaway hat, where a pane of glass 
should have been. It struck me as something very 
discouraging if the world were always to be seen 
through such a patched-up medium. But, then, 
some people get used to their places so easily! I 
query whether it is because they expect so little in 
life, and so accept what comes to them with a sort of 
querulous resignation, or expect nothing at all more 
than a hand-to-mouth existence. I suspect that 
these people, and the houses that lend them shelter, 
and an ill-looking certificate of character, are the 
natural irritants which humanity needs; for a slov- 
enly poverty is a misfortune that carries its own 
quality of repulsiveness ; to say nothing of the quality 
of the bondage which it imposes upon the body and 
soul of its unfortunates. One is likely to keep out 
of the company of such, as he would avoid a nest 
of cockles. 



170 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



I do not believe in the total depravity of the hu- 
man race. There is a taint of meanness hugging the 
shadow of such a belief. Like some other things that 
have been preached for years, the more it is preached, 
the less people believe in it; because it is contrary 
to human nature and men's truer instincts. The 
heart speaks louder than the book; and repels the 
doctrine that would absolve the few, and leave the 
many in the outer courts of the Hereafter. One 




likes to believe in his neighbor; but with the ghost 
of Total Depravity at his elbow, it is a difficult thing 
to do. With old houses it is the same. I like to 
believe all houses as good as they look; and I rarely 
get disappointed upon closer acquaintance. 

Like all old roads, this artery of travel into the 
inland, from which the little hamlet of Stroudwater 
draws its nourishment, holds many a surprise for 
the wayfarer who follows its narrow trend for the 
first time. 

From the top of Stroudwater Hill one sees a group 
of stately elms; and within the gray shadows of 
their shapely domes, doubly conspicuous from their 
height and massive proportions, and their isolation 
in the midst of the rolling farmlands, a cluster of 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



171 



dark roofs of ancient aspect, that have uplield the 
honor of their builder these hundred years and more. 
This place was known as Broad's Tavern over a cen- 
tury ago, — one of the famous hostelries along the 
ancient coach road to Boston, past which the lum- 
bering coaches went on their way, to or from, old 
Falmouth town twice a week; which was some- 
thing remarkable in the w^ay of travelling accommo- 







APPROACH TO BROAD TAVERN 



dations for those times ; considering the primitive con- 
dition of the roads, that gave the traveller a shak- 
ing-up that lasted him several days. To be exact, 
this superior service dates from 1760, before which 
time the mails were very irregular; mail matter not 
being despatched until enough had accumulated to 
pay the carrier, who came, and went with it, on foot, 
carrying the mail-bag on his back. After a time, 
horses, and the more convenient saddle-bags were 
used; but the mail came and went as leisurely as 
ever. A schedule of arrival and fleparture was a 



172 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

thing unthought of. A case in point is an anecdote 
told by Willis, of a Falmouth gentleman who, by 
stress of business was obliged to make the trip to 
Boston, — no mean undertaking then, — who had 
waited several days for his mail, but the mail-car- 
rier did not come. Impatient to be off, the gentle- 
man began his journey. He met Barnard, the carrier, 
in Saco woods, where the mail was deliberately 
opened by the roadside and the wished-for com- 
munication delivered. Barnard's honesty must have 
been of the proverbial ''Downeast" sort. 

The deep ruts that once turned into the ample 
tavern yard are gone; likewise the big sign that 
swung to and fro in the shadow of the big elm across 
the road by the barns. The only suggestion of the 
former, is a narrow footpath made by the housefolk 
in their commonplace goings and comings ; while only 
the gray, weather-stained post, leans out over the 
highway to still remind the traveller of its ancient 
occupation, — as lonely, and neglected now, as it is 
barren of its old-time importance. I do not imagine 
that the old Broad Tavern was so much different 
from that famous wayside inn, the firelit windows 
of which flashed their red flame, 

"One Autumn night in Sudbury town, 
Across the meadows bare and brown;" 

for it is of the same kith and kin. 

" As ancient is this hostelry 
As any in the land may be, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 173 

Built in the old Colonial day, 
When men lived in a grander way, 
AVith ampler hospitality." 

Better still, as I turn into the spacious yard, un- 
der the great elms, that from the hilltop, looked so 
much like a great green dome, I see an old estate 
with hardly a single sign of decay about it, unless it 
be the sagging ridgepoles of the horsesheds, that 
extend down the road from the barns that stand as 
staunch, as though a hundred winters had not hurled 
their sleet, and drifting snows, and January rains 
against their moss-patched gables. There are no 

"Weather-stains upon the wall, 
And stairways worn, and crazy doors, 
And creaking and uneven floors," 

in this old tavern, for it is one of the best-preserved 
houses hereabout; and when it was my good fortune 
to see all there was to see about the old place, it pos- 
sessed a store of anticiuated things that would turn 
the head of any bric-a-brac hunter. 

This was comparatively a new country when 
Thacldeus Broad came hither, more than a century 
ago, to build his cabin and, with his good wife Lucy, 
settle down beside the old trail, which was soon to 
be the great thoroughfare between the more impor- 
tant settlements of three States. All of the worldly 
chattels of the elder landlord of the Stroudwater Inn, 
coming hither from the older and more populous 
Massachusetts colony, were carried in an ample hand- 
kerchief. Here, at the edge of Stroudwater, he be- 



174 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



gan a humble enough career, with his saw, broadaxe 
and hammer, to get together a shelter which the way- 
farer of those days w^as willing to accept w^hen over- 
taken on his journey by the nightfall; or the tough 
storms that swept in- 
land from the sea, 
scouring the s a n d- 
dunes and marshes. 
This entertainment 
grew to be a custom. 
The little house on the 
Stroudwater road was 
enlarged into a com- 





modious tavern. Big 
barns were built, and 
new lands were 
cleared for grass and 
grain with w^hich to 
fill them, A sign was 
swung to the winds, 
and the criticism of 
the traveller. 

One can see a bit 
of the old black sign, once ambitious enough, at the 
old place. I found it in the Broad tool-house, along 
with the last one that swung from the Broad gable. 
On one side of this old relic was a painting of the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 175 

frigate Constitution under way, with all sails set. On 
the reverse were depicted a Continental soldier and 
a red-coat in belligerent attitude. Appropriate and 
patriotic mottoes might be read on either side of 
the old sign; while across the lower panel was printed 
the name of the tavern-keeper and the date of the 
tavern "house warming." 

In 1834, the son Silas replaced this ancient and 
much shattered symbol of his father's hospitality 
with one which resembled a huge bunch of grapes 
painted a bright yellow against a wooden background 
of vine-leaf deftly carved at the edge. This hung 
from a huge wooden hand until long after the rail- 
road was opened eastw^ard from Portsmouth to Port- 
land, which soon perceptibly affected the travel over 
the old Boston road, and likewise the revenue of 
the Broad hostelry. 

For years Silas Broad kept open house; and with 
him passed away the routine of tavern-keeping, but 
not the flavor of olden romance that was peculiarly 
appurtenant to the Broad acres and savory chimney 
smokes, nor the legend of its hospitality — which 
hospitality indeed is to this day graciously dispensed 
in private life, under the same old roof-tree, by the 
last of the line, Miss Almira Ann Broad, whose 
horizon-line of Stroudwater woods does not by any 
means mark the boundary of her influence and phi- 
lanthropy. 

The Broads were a hardy and toil-toughened race. 
Lucy, the first hostess of the famous Broads, died at 
the age of one hundred and five, and the present 



176 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

dweller at the old inn, at the ripe age of seventy- 
one, possessed the freshness, and vivacity, and ruddy 
health of a woman in the prime of life. 

Standing on the broad flag of granite that held the 
approach to the gabled porch, apparently the now- 
adays entrance to the big house, I grasped the black 
iron knocker; and a strange metallic crash of sound 
went clattering down the hall within, up the front 
stairs, and through the house, out into the great 
kitchen, to tell, with hollow voice, its message. A 
feeling almost of remorse stole over me at this cold- 
blooded invasion of what seemed a sacred precinct; 
for I was a stranger to the people who lived here, 
the direct descendants of old Colonel Broad, who 
might reasonably be expected to resent such flagrant 
curiosity. But no one answering, I sent the echoes 
of the huge knocker flying through the house a second 
time. The door opening just a bit, I caught the 
glimpse of a pair of mild brown eyes, with just a 
hint of doubt about them, peeping out between its 
narrow edge and the stout pine lintel. Satisfied with 
this preliminary survey, a sweet-faced woman with 
white kerchief pinned about her shapely shoulders, 
her hair with just a hint of silver in it, combed straight 
back, without a single artificial touch or garnishment 
to mar its simple beauty, stood within its shadow. 

"I called to see the house!" I said. 

"Will you walk in, sir?" was the gracious response. 

Over the charmed threshold, down the long hall, 
into the old-fashioned sitting-room I went. One side 
of it, mostly of glass, looks out over a green slope of 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



177 



mowing-land extending down to the woods that partly 
hide the blue waters of the creek. I sit in the big 
rocker that was the favorite a century ago, with a 
sense of restfulness that makes the chat of old times 
and the old house delightful enough. A bright fire 
of seasoned birch is blazing upon the wide hearth 
that has burned out many crackling back-logs; and 




BROAD TAVERN 



upon whose glowing coals many a mug of flip has set 
"a-simmering" to serve its turn with the travellers 
and wags who sought the hospitality of the old tavern. 
Incongruous as the fire may seem, with the roof- 
tree overshadowed by the green tops of the elms, it 
was cheerful on this mornmg early in June, for the 
days preceding had been days of cold rain, leaving 
a feeling of dampness and chill about the old house, 



178 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

for all the summer sun was shining so brilliantly 
upon the fields and woods. It added to the pleasure 
to see the old hearth made young again in its glory 
of leaping flame. 

It was here in these rooms that the elite of old- 
fashioned and aristocratic Falmouth were enter- 
tained by their jolly landlord, whose two hundred 
avoirdupois and ruddy face gave ample proof of good 
cheer; and the long hall that runs through the centre 
of the house was the scene of many a hilarious fes- 
tivity, where now, on either side, are bits of real old- 
fashioned mahogany : the straight-backed chair with 
curiously woven bottom of greenish rushes, a cun- 
ningly-carved escritoire with brightly polished brass 
candelabra, and shining table-top, each one of which 
has a history of its own. This desk belonged to Judge 
Mellen, and that other thing to some other distin- 
guished person, making them enviable possessions in 
these days of swift fortunes and swift social elevation. 

It was a great place for winter dancing parties 
from town, and it is not difficult to imagine the beau- 
tiful picture of an evening at Sudbury Inn, having 
its counterpart at this ancient ruin at Stroudwater 
— when, 

"Round this old-fashioned, quaint abode, 
Deep silence reigned, save when a gust 
Went rushing down the country road, 
And skeletons of leaves, and dust, 
A moment quickened by its breath, 
Shuddered and danced their dance of death, 
And through the ancient oaks o'erhead 
Mysterious voices moaned and fled. " 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 179 

In this crackling birchen flame, I see the gay 
townfolk who have come out here for a good time, 
in their smart costumes ; their hair white with powder, 
and their cheeks berouged and bepatched; the gen- 
tlemen not a whit the less stylishly gotten up; with 
their long queues done up in ribbons; their silk 
hose and velvet breeches ; their embroidered waists- 
coat and dainty laces; their silver or gold knee- 
buckles and pumps, waiting for some tardy exquisite 
who is looked upon as the leader of this jolly set; or 
it may be the fiddler who is belated, — for a dance 
is nothing without a fiddle, and an old-fashioned 
fiddler to fiddle it. 

But the time has come for the festivity to begin. 
There is a hush in this youthful hilarity that is merged 
in the bustle incident to the more immediate prep- 
arations for a stately minuet, or a more rollicking 
measure still. Over all there sounded 

" The music of a violin. 
The firelight, shedding over all 
The splendor of its ruddy glow, 
Filled the whole parlor large and low ; 
It gleamed on wainscot and on wall," — 

and rivalling the flickering of the home-made "tal- 
low-dip," it shone into the faces of fair women, only 
to find a rival warmth in the ruddy glow of their 
cheeks. It was a dissipation that was kept up into 
the wee small hours of the morning, if the chronicler 
of these events is to be believed, — and much to the 
scandal of the communitv ; for to the orthodox mind 



180 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

in those clays, dancing was a lure of the fiend. In 
Provincial Falmouth dancing was prohibited by law, 
in places of "pubHc resort." The "quahty" in town 
held their dances at Freeman's tavern, an old-time 
hostelry of most excellent repute, and on one occa- 
sion, as early as the first year of the Revolution, the 
dancers were indicted. Among them was Theophi- 
lus Bradbury, who afterwards became a distinguished 
lawyer, and with whom the distinguished Theophilus 
Parsons studied in after years. Bradbury appeared 
for the respondents with the ingenious defence that 
as the dancers had hired the room for the season, it 
became a private apartment and was not a place of 
"public resort." The court sustained the counsel's 
view of the case, and the "quality" danced to their 
heart's content ever after. 

Sitting here, with the sound of the fire-music within, 
and the wliistle of the robin in the orchard trees 
without, my hostess told a story connected with the 
inn, of a couple of not over-hardened gamesters, and 
their experience with the occupant of the Bradley 
parsonage. It was on a Saturday night. In this self- 
same room it may have been, that a group of revel- 
lers, betwixt their hot toddy, their card-playing, and 
their wooing of the fickle goddess, with a constantly 
increasing pile of winnings on one side and a con- 
stantly lightening purse on the other, grew so ob- 
livious to churchly precept that the game lasted 
well into Sunday morning. A look at the tall clock 
in its corner in the hall told them what, with all its 
loud striking, had gone unheeded, that midnight had 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 181 

come and gone, — a revelation not unmixed with 
twinges of conscience, that caused the cards at once 
to disappear. With an extra mug of flip around, 
they said their good-night. 

"Alone remained the drowsy squire, 
To rake the embers of the fire. 
And quench the waning parlor light ; 
While from the windows here and there, 
The scattered lamps a moment gleamed, 
And the illumined hostel seemed 
The constellation of the Bear, 
Downward, athwart the misty air. 
Sinking and setting toward the sun. 
Far off, the village clock struck one." 

Not all of those midnight revellers took their can- 
dles from the narrow mantel to light them to bed 
along the big hall and up the stairway. Two of the 
hilarious company, wishing their sleepy landlord a 
good night's rest, went out into the dark highway 
that crept past Parson Bradley's. With uncertain 
steps they kept the faintly discernible track, down 
the hollow and up the hill between the inn and the 
old grist-mill brook that went down to the marsh as 
noisily in the dark as in broad daylight, as if it knew 
the way so well it had no need of eyes, — which was 
more than could be said of the two scapegraces who 
went creeping over it by the help of the sagging 
handrail of its old bridge. 

The nearer they came to the parsonage, the livelier 
grew their consciences at having trespassed upon the 
Lord's time. After a brief debate, and not without 



182 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



misgiving, they concluded to call up the parson and 
divide the spoils with him, thinking that by turning 
into the church treasury a part of their illgotten gains, 
partial absolution might be secured. They plodded 
along through the dark and over the hill by the 




Tate house, past its black elms, glancing no doubt at 
its gloomy windows, as if expecting some uncanny 
thing, perhaps some old woman's ghost, might be 
there to cast its glowering eyes upon them, — for 
those were times when uneasy spirits went abroad 
o' nights. They kept up their courage by dint of 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



183 



loud talk and an occasional pull at the black bottle, 
dreading most of all the parson's scathing rebuke, 
which would undoubtedly greet their endeavor to 
make him a party to their unchristian practices. The 
parson's slender wicket rattled loudly as they opened 
it, and they made a furious din with the brazen 
knocker at the door, whereat the preacher, noted for 
his dry sayings, his keen satire, and his eccentricities, 
came to the door to listen to the midnight confession. 
What they said is not recorded, but hardly had the 
old man received the silver, when he astonished his 
callers by his mild acquiescence and the half-approv- 
ing inquiry: 

"Well, gentlemen, why did you not play longer?" 
Along a narrow, old-fashioned mantel, so high up 




that I could no more than easily reach it standing, 
were the same old candlesticks a-row which belonged 
to the earliest days of this inn, and which gleamed as 



184 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

kindly and looked as gay as if they had just come 
from the modern manufacturer of bric-a-brac; only 
there was the not easily describable flavor of an- 
tiquity about them which is lacking in the modern 
article. 

The ancient brass-mounted andirons, the fender 
and heavy tongs, and the long, slender-backed, 
broad-bladed shovel, polished to the brilliancy of 
gold, keep them demure company about the broad 
fireplace, that with its short, chunky jambs speak of 
the stout-heartedness and toughness of things in gen- 
eral when its virgin flues were first aglow with flame. 
What tales these quaint appurtenances of this old 
room could tell, with its medley of experiences of 
home life, that began with the hanging of its stal- 
wart crane, the dawning of its child life, the in- 
coming and the outgoing of its stranger guests, its 
episodes of roistering entertainment, and its mid- 
night revels! What a store of precious secrets are 
held within the heart of its old roof-tree of pine; as 
sound, every timber about it, as when with big 
broadaxe they were hewn square, and, with mallet 
and chisel, were fitted into a perfect roof-plate, rafter, 
and ridgepole! A square house, goodly in propor- 
tions, set upon capacious foundations, with two good 
stories above. It is painted white, with cool-looking 
green blinds, to give a pleasing contrast; and from 
the eaves on the side toward the highway, its sharply- 
pitched roof runs up to a stout ridgepole with its 
single stout chimney amidships; to make as steep a 
descent on its rear side, keeping on down over its 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 185 

ell, shed-like, until its low eaves overshadow the 
windows of the ancient kitchen. East, and west, its 
gables look with the highway. From the horsesheds, 
eastward, it is a delightful vista of birchen woods 
over the June landscape to the farthest point of the 
horizon, old "Black-strap," with its wooden monu- 
ment, a relic of a coast survey made in the early 
part of the century. Westward, from the hooded 
doorway, with its sidelights of green-glass, one sees 
the sun set amid the orchard tops; and that is all. 

From the restful entertainment of this old room 
and its smouldering hearthfire, the musical speech of 
my gentle hostess in her suit of gray, and the June 
sunlight without, with the west wind blowing through 
the orchard and into the open windows, bringing with 
it a bar or two of some orchard singer's madrigal, it 
is but a step to the quaint staircase with its slender 
handrail. The shadows thicken as the garret is ap- 
proached with its single window in either gable, a 
roomy, unfinished interior, rich in memorials of a 
time and a people, the simplest episodes of whose 
most matter-of-fact existence are tinged now with 
the color of romance. 

This old garret is not so different from one I knew 
as a playground on wet days at the home farm when 
a boy; and I never hear the rain beating on the 
roof, or tapping, with its wet fingers, at my window- 
pane, but the sloping rafters of that garret come to 
my mind. I look again out of its cobwebby panes 
upon the dripping woods across the pastures, while all 
the sky between is gray with driving mists and wind- 



186 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



blown rain swept across the dark background of the 
pines in slanting sheets of wet, that leave the tus- 
socks of kalmias white with crystal drops; paint the 
walls and fences and the trunks of the trees black 
with the drenching; and drive the birds into their 
leafy hiding-places. What strange things one finds 
in these garrets of old houses, with their stained 
pine rafters and sloping walls, so thickly hung with 




AN ANCIENT HOSTELRY 



tapestry from the loom of some vagrant spider! 
What antique furnishings are these that fill every 
nook with a presence that inclines one to silence, and 
makes one step softly over the creaking boards of 
the floor, as if in fear of disturbing the slumbers of its 
dusty tenants that have been asleep so long! These 
old garrets are the homes of the ghost family, and it 
is no w^onder that one feels the weird influences that 
lurk behind every shadow. It is a drowsy enough 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 187 

place, — but what suggestions look out upon one 
with puzzhng query from the medley of old para- 
phernalia that has outlived its day and people by so 
many generations! What a rare place for an auc- 
tion, — a real old-fashioned country "Vandoo," to 
which everybody would come for miles around, to 
have a bit of harmless gossip about their neighbors, 
or their crops; to bid a few cents for some coveted 
object that has been long cherished in this "Old 
Curiosity Shop!" These auction entertainments, 
however, as I remember, were largely of the out-of- 
door kind; whatever was to be sold under the ham- 
mer was piled promiscuously into the ample front 
yard for everybody to see; while many a yarn was 
spun at the expense of one article after another; and 
it was a miracle, if the rain did not come down before 
the sale was over, or the day was out. Fair, or foul, 
it did not matter, as the whole transaction bore a 
funeral aspect; while the auctioneer's wit was of the 
subdued melancholy sort; as if this selling of family 
heirlooms were an indefensible piece of sacrilege ; as if 
there were something of shame attaching to the gar- 
rulous part he felt himself to have taken in this clos- 
ing act of an old-time drama. 

There are several families living peacefully in this 
out-of-the-way community, where the first day of 
April has no more significance than the first day of 
any other month, so far as the visit of the town as- 
sessors is concerned; and the tax collector evidently 
knows nothing of the place, for he is never seen here. 
What taxes are levied and collected here are those 



188 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

common to the domain of the house-cat, whose 
bright eyes may be seen at ahnost any time of the 
day flashing hke a pair of emeralds aflame, set in the 
black obscurity of the farthest garret corner, while 
their owner knows no more delightful occupation 
than this silent waiting for the unsuspicious rodent 
whose appetite is like to be his ruin. Here is a rare 
table for the squirrels and the lesser mice; with the 
garret floor strewn with the yellow harvest of the 
corn-rows; where every setting sun ushers in a field- 
day, or rather a field-night, for these mischief-makers, 
who go scampering, up and down, with a queer rus- 
tling footstep that reminds one of shivering leaves, 
and winter snows. An old battered squirrel-trap of 
wood, sprung long days ago for the last time, is here; 
with its nubbin of corn stripped bare of every kernel 
by some sly chipmunk, or by the mice that have 
crawled in and out its spindle-hole, no doubt some- 
what enlarged by the sharp chisels of their teeth. 
Here is the identical tow string that, I trow, has 
more than one bit of l^oyish romance twisted into 
its yellow fibre, that carried the message from the 
spindle to the heavy box-cover that it was time to 
shut its squirrel guest in, — when down it dropped 
with a terrible crash, holding the striped marauder 
a close prisoner, until a flaxen-haired boy, whose 
counterpart I some time knew, should come to re- 
lease him. It is a wonderful panorama of bygone 
days that unwinds from this self-same spindle, as I 
lift the heavy cover, tied down with many a mesh 
of cobweb. Unlike Pandora's box, this is over- 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 189 

brimming with good things; and hke it, too, they 
come trooping out so fast, and so many of them, 
that it is impossible to keep them in, — for every 
day in all of boyhood's fleeting years is here; and each 
is crowded with a reminiscence for every hour. It 
is a music-box as well ; for it seems to be full of tunes 
of bobolinks; of white-throated sparrows; of thrash- 
ers and robins; and of swift-rmming brooks and fall- 
ing raindrops; and there are hints of flame of cardi- 
nal blossoms, of wind-flowers and bluets, of yellow and 
purple corn leaves, and of orchard bloom and dande- 
lions, of mellow sunlight and flashing wings. This is a 
delightful family to visit, and once in its company 
there is nothing to say, although so much to think of. 
Near neighbors to these are the flax-wheel, and 
hatchel, and the huge bunch of tow. I twirl the 
little wheel round and round, and it is a rare song 
of old days it sings, for all the rickety treadle creaks 
its remonstrance in a way not to be misunderstood, 
— for it sets up to belong to the aristocracy of the 
Linen family, and a good old Irish family it is. The 
big spinning-wheel, with a musical burr to its speech, 
chides the flax-wheel upon this exhibition of family 
pride; and suggests in a brisk sort of way common to 
the connections of the Woollen family, that the 
family name does not go a great way now-a-days in 
the getting of a living; and people who rely on their 
ancestral honors to win them a place in the world, 
find themselves in a precarious way. The great hand- 
loom, that has made, I do not know how many yards 
of homespun in its day, sets its ponderous seal of 



190 



}'-P liOMANCK OF CASCO DAY 



approval to this opinion of the spinning-wheel, with 
a single clash of its emjjty sleys. There is an affirma- 
tive rustling among the bobbins in the huge square 
basket of ash, that keeps its place beside the bench 
on ^^•hich the good wife sat at her weaving. Not 

knowing how the 
matter may end, and 
wishing to keep good 
friends all around, I 
turn my back upon 
this cousinly differ- 
ence, to catch a 
glimpse of a brave 
old muster-coat of 
stained and faded 
blue, with its huge 
brass buttons and 
chevrons wrought in 
red cord, the only 
relic of a once warlike 
family, peaceful 
enough in these peace- 
ful days. The bat- 
tered sword that hangs beside it, that glistened bravely 
at the old-fashioned musters, and on training days, is 
now subjected to a more ignominious fate. To keep 
it fitting company, the equally ancient flintlock 
musket stands guard in a corner close by, with a box 
of battered flints that were brought home from 
Madawaska, or from some other forage; and a cart- 
ridge-box covered with black leather hanging by a 




YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 101 

rusty nail, close by the rustier musket-muzzle. There 
is no smell of powder-smoke about the old coat; but 
visions of woodland trails, and gleams of campfires in 
the shadows of the deep hemlocks, of watchful men, 
and of roistering training clays, with their butts of 
Jamaica rmn and gingerbread booths that lasted long 
after the Revolution, are painted up and dowTi its 
dusty lapels. JMy eyes are not old enough to see 
all there is here, for it all occurred before my day. 
The old u'on sword, never dra^Mi upon a more belli- 
gerent occasion than one of these trainings, if the 
truth were known, — a bloodless relic, — made a 
capital corn-sheller before the mechanical device for 
shelling corn was invented. I suspect that more 
than one country boy has sat a-straddle the corn-box, 
with the point of one of these old sword relics held 
in place by an iron staple driven into the end of the 
box before him, while the handle, placed between 
two boards set cross-wise this selfsame box, was held 
down by the avoirdupois of the operator, his legs 
sprawling wide apart, and his left hand grasping the 
back of the sword, while the ear, held in the right, 
was drawn stoutly upward against the dull edge of 
the clumsy weapon, and so the corn was scraped clean 
from the cob, first at the little end, and then at the 
butt. This was a not unusual occupation on rainy 
days in summer ; or in the firelight of a winter even- 
ing, when the meal chest needed replenishing; it 
was a sign that the next stormy day would send 
some one of the menfolk to the miller. That was a 
part of the story of the old sword to me. 



192 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

But there is a more royal family yet in this old 
garret; for, in a sequestered corner, I have spied a 
pair of rusty iron dogs with their legs crossed in a 
dignified way; and hanging from the rafters over- 
head is an old copper warming-pan with a long 
handle, that, filled with glowing coals raked from 
between these identical andirons, lent its warmth to 
its owner's bed on cold winter nights. Close beside 
it is the ancient tin baker, in which countless batches 
of cream biscuit have been baked to perfection; and 
to keep it company is the spit on which the Thanks- 
giving turkeys were basted, and done to a turn; and 
here is the iron crank, dreaded by boy and girl alike, 
by which the roast was turned, round and round, 
with a slowness that was exasperating. An ancient 
tin lantern, with perforated sides, and a socket for 
its "dipped" candle, that had its usual place upon 
the mantel over the sitting-room fireplace, that no 
doubt lighted the goodman safely over the drifted 
path to the barns, and that had, as well, shed its 
dim light over many a husking bout, is here. It is 
of a quaint pattern, with square sides and a top that 
resembles the hip-roof to a toy house; and its sides 
are figured with scrolls and flower-work, deftly out- 
lined by puncturings large and small ; and at the top, 
or peak of its roof, is a little loop of tin, just big 
enough to receive a single finger, which was to serve 
the lantern-bearer for a bail. To keep this old lan- 
tern from being lonesome, is a tin horn, a good yard 
in length, that used to sound its alarm across lots on 
week days to call the farm-help to dinner; and on 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 193 

Sundays, maybe, to call the good people of the 
vicinity to church; and in case of conflagration to 
summon the neighbors with their buckets; this was 
before church-bells could be afforded, and before the 
new-fangled trumpets with their whanging notes came 
in with the peripatetic vender of Connecticut notions. 

Here is something that could tell a story if it 
would, — a curiously gotten-up affair that, in the 
days before such a comfort as a fire w^as known at 
church, was taken along, with the rest of the family, 
full of ruddy coals to keep the feet of the women 
warm. 

But this is not all I have found in this haunted 
spot; for there is a warning of singing-wings, and I 
have discovered a huge wasps' nest over the window, 
which has no doubt been there many a year^, for 
wasps are partial to such places; and once well-set- 
tled, are loath to leave; no matter how much they 
may discommode the housewife as she goes after her 
herbs that hang from the adjacent rafter. 

Was there ever an old garret without its pine chest, 
into which all things have been piled from decade to 
decade, which always repays rummaging to the bot- 
tom? I have found one here, and scarcely have I 
lifted the lid before there is a scampering of mice, 
and a rustling among the bits of faded paper that 
cover the bottom so thickly; and sure enough, I find 
just what I expected after I caught the scampering 
sound, a nest of tiny mice, as snugly ensconced in 
their house of paper, as the people downstairs in their 
house of wood. If there were ever any tales of olden 



194 



1'^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



days in this chest, the mice have worn them out with 
their reading of them; or found them so dry, that, 
critic-Hke, they have torn them into bits to build 
them into an edifice of their own. 

It was years ago that I saw these things, and I 
know not how much fact and fancy are mixed in the 
order of relation. A rare memorial of a rare and 
bygone race is this Wayside Inn of old Stroudwater, 
with its peaked gables, its black roofs, and its big 
chimney, that bespeak a comfort, a substance and a 
thrift of exceptional ciuality; and a hospitality the 
like of which is as rare as the brass-mounted bed- 
steads I found in its sleeping-rooms, — all four posts 
of which, of dainty and slender proportions, reached 
to the ceiling, each bedstead surmounted by a bed 
of royal dimensions, white as the driven snow, that 
no doubt owned the magic panacea of perfect rest 
for humankind. A grand house then, it must be 
the same to-day. The best wish I have for it is 
that it may stand a century longer, or as long as 
the world stands, for that matter; for the story it 
tells to the wayfarer is one that will bear repeating 
every day. 




AN OLD FISH-YARD 




AN OLD FISH- YARD 




GET a sniff of salt breeze through 
my window almost any hour of 
the day, for I do not live far 
from the sea, and there often 
comes to mind a town that is 
very old; so old in fact, it some 
time since celebrated its quarto- 
decennial, for its settlement was 
' ' almost coincident with that of 

good old Plymouth. This old town in its stripling 
days had a ferry as it has now ; nor was there anything 
strange in that, as the sea hemmed it in on every side, 
unless one mentions a slender neck of land on its north- 
west corner; no doubt left there to keep it from alto- 
gether getting into the water. This ferry had a 
landing-place, or slip, at the foot of what was then 
known as King Street, near what was once the site of 
its first settler's cornfield ; a not important fact in itself, 
but interesting historically, as this scant allusion to it 
may assist the reader in locating long forgotten King 
Street, if the reader ever knew of King Street at all. 

197 



198 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

South of this old ferry landing, now metamor- 
phosed by the wharf-builders into a compact mass 
of oak piling and granite wall, with its rows of 
long, brown, iron-plated "bonded" warehouses of 
a certain great corporation of common carriers, is 
the Government House of Customs. Opposite, on the 
water-side of the broad street which now faces the 
whole southerly water-front of a city, the island steam- 
ers take their passengers, the way to which is through 
a long narrow lane. At the head of this passageway 
is posted a sign, " Private way. Dangerous passing." 
What one would ordinarily regard as its meaning, is 
a query, with so many people going up and down; 
unless one is to observe greater care in wending his 
way between its rows of low-eaved dusky-gray 
wooden buildings of the ancient rambling tumble- 
down sort that hedge it so closely in. This lane is 
odorous with the smells of the shipping and the wide 
docks. It is a savory odor when the fishermen have 
been out a day or two, and the tide has washed the 
slips clean ; for the harbor, of itself, is a wonderfully 
fresh and invigorating picture on a hot summer after- 
noon, with its white sails, its cool winds and dark 
emerald floods of salt sea-water. Everything here 
smacks of the sea, and sea-toggery. A half-score of 
ship-chandlery shops line this narrow lane. Over 
the floors of their interiors are heaps of bright-look- 
ing tackle, anchors, huge cables, cordage, barrels of 
tar, dirty and sticky-looking. There are roomy at- 
tics with low-sloping rafters, that hold up broad 
slated roofs, into which are set rows of square win- 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 199 

dows, under which the sail-makers sit on their flat 
benches all day long and sew piles of snowy duck 
into white wings for the ships that have been brought 
round from their ways at Fisher's Point, or up from 
the Bath ship-yards. Here are fruiterers from the 
Bermudas with their sails blown into tatters by some 
Gulf Stream tornado, so quietly moored within their 
docks, that one would hardly think of them as having 
sailed under the Equator, and perhaps around the 
workl, at one time or another. Through this thor- 
oughfare is the way of the tourist to the island boats. 
There is only a narrow plank walk for foot passen- 
gers, while in the lane, or alley, is barely room for one 
team to pass another; and when the steamers come 
in from down, the bay, one, who tries to make his 
way thitherward, experiences no inconsiderable jos- 
tling and elbowing, as everybody seems bent on get- 
ting up town in the shortest possible time. 

There is more even, than this, to attract one's at- 
tention as he gets into this odorous atmosphere. 
Lobster-houses open out upon this narrow footway, 
where the pleasure-seeker for the day may buy a 
freshly boiled lobster for an outing lunch. In these 
damp, dirty shops the toothsome crustacean is boiled, 
packed into barrels and boxes, and labelled for Bos- 
ton, New York, and Montreal. Hundreds of barrels of 
this delicious shell-fish are shipped hence, every week 
throughout their season, so that the home market 
has hardly an abundant supply at any time. A 
lobster-house is not an inviting place to one inclined 
to neatness, for the floors are slippery with accumu- 



200 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



lations of dirt and slime, though some of them are 
really cleanly washed every day, and drenched with 
the purest of water from an inland lake; but such a 
one is rather the exception than the rule. 

Set in a low brickwork along the wall, are black, 
wide-mouthed kettles, into which the live lobsters are 
thrown for boiling as they are taken from the lobster 




FISH HOUSES 



smack in the dock ; and piled about the floor awaiting 
the "sorting" process, are bushels of boiled lobsters, 
the ruddy hues of which lend brilliancy to the dingy 
interior. Rarely does one see such beauty of color- 
ing as these homely shell-fish exhibit in their coats, 
spattered with the richest of tints, from a pale green 
to a most brilliant scarlet. From the open door at 
the rear of the shop one sees the entire dock, with 
its varied sailing craft. Some fishermen are empty- 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 201 

ing some salt-water tanks in the hold of a fishing- 
smack, that has just come in from a trip clown the 
coast. The lobsters, pulled up with long forks, two 
and three at a time, and thrown into big, square bas- 
kets, are rapidly hoisted to the wharf, where the con- 
trast between these, so soberly clad in suitings of 
dun-colored olive-green, and those just from the 
boiling sea-water, rich in glowing color, is a marked 
one. 

" Fresh-b'iled lobster, sir? purty nigh outer th' 
last on 'em this year," 

From the bright light of a mid-August afternoon, 
into the damp cool shadows of this old shop, lighted 
only by its two low doors and a pair of dingy win- 
dows, is too abrupt for the normal vision. The half- 
light of this interior has the quality of semi-opacity. 

"Have one, sir? No sof'-shells in that heap," — 
and the old man who kept this place came forward 
from his background of Rembrandt browns, thumb- 
ing the ruddy back of a good sized specimen, as if to 
corroborate his assertion. 

"Getting scarce, are they?" 

"Lord bless yer! Ther's lobsters 'nuff, only th' 
law's on arter th' fifteenth." 

Straightening out the stoop in his shoulders slowly, 
and pulling and twisting his oiled overalls into place, 
a hardy, weather-beaten old salt, with a rim of gray, 
stubby beard around his chin, and above that a pair 
of ruddy cheeks, and peering out over them, a pair 
of keen gray eyes that light up rather a pleasant face, 
and over all a rusty black felt hat of a certain non- 



202 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



descript style common among fishermen, my lobster- 
seller, apparently delighted, keeps on with his griev- 
ance : 

" It's nigh onter thirty year sence I took t' fishin', 
an' in them days there wuz hardly mor'n a half-dozen 
smacks runnin' lobsters on the ]\laine coast; nowa- 
days, ther's nigh onter half a hund'ed sail. I've 
heerd tell as haow there wuz two thousan' men an' 
as many bo'ts a-ketchin' lobsters fer the fleet; 



/T^r^ 




A LOBSTER CANNERY 



but they're like t' pull the'r bo'ts up on the bank ef 
folks don't change th' law. I'm agin the law eny- 
how, fer the Province folk send the'r lobsters here 
free, w'en we can't ketch s'much as a crab; an' they 
allers come w'en they're least wanted. Why, I've 
seen thousan's o' lobsters shoveled overboard this 
very w'arf fer the want of a market. No need o' 
pertectin' the lobster. Natur' '11 take care ther's 
lobsters 'nuff. Can't ketch 'em all no mor'n yer can 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 203 

all the mussels an' clams. They ain't no fools, as 
any fisherman knows; an' they'll spawn an' hatch, 
an' spawn an' hatch, spite o' lobster-pots, er law; for 
a single female of 'em perduces twenty thousan' aigs, 
an' finds a place for 'em in th' seaweed or rocks, er 
some'eres. Ther'll be lobsters 'miff; but yer see th' 
trubble is, country folks don't know nuthin' 'bout 
'em. It jes' helps the cannin' folks, an' thet's all. 
My boy tells me ther's twenty-four hund'ed mile o' 
coast-line thet belongs t' the Stet o' Maine, but 't 
might be less, well 's more, fer the ketchin' o' lobsters 
fer a livin' from this aout. I tell yer, sir, 'taint right. 
I'm agin th' law. Gittin' a livin' anyway, 's preca- 
r'ous 'nuff; but ketchin' lobsters 'n the Stet o' Maine 
's precareser." 

From the southern boundary of this State, north- 
ward, is the fishing ground of the world, and here- 
abouts along the island shores are the homes of some 
of its most hardy fisher-folk. 

The summer voyager among the islands of this 
bay, will discover, here and there, odd-looking bits of 
lattice-w^ork among the rocks, or on the sands. They 
are the tools of the lobster-catcher that bring these 
toilers of the sea over a half-million dollars yearly. 
Anybody who has had a sniff of salt water along this 
coast, can tell you they are lobster-traps; homely, 
ungainly bits of handiwork, half-round, perhaps four 
feet in length, with slender slats nailed lengthwise, 
their ends covered with a netting of coarse wire, or 
hempen twine; and in this netting is an aperture 
through which the hungry crustacean enters after 



204 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



the bait so temptingly displayed. Two men usually 
go "snacks," handling from a single boat about two 
hundred traps or pots, altogether. 

By daylight the fishermen are pulling toward the 
lobster-grounds, most likely some sheltered cove, or 
narrow inlet that makes into the shore, here and 
there down the bay, their boat piled fore and aft 




THE LOBSTER GROUNDS 

and loaded to the water's edge with traps that are 
to be baited and thrown overboard at intervals off- 
shore, where they remain over night, or until the 
lobster-catchers return for them. They are easily 
found by their painted floats; and pulled up, one by 
one, their contents are emptied into the dory; the 
bait replenished, the traps sink out of sight. So 
these fishermen go, until every trap has been visited. 
Then they return home; unless, as is often the case, 
they have a camp under some of the island bluffs. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 205 

or along their yellow sands, when they take their 
booty to a lobster-car anchored somewhere in the 
immediate vicinity, until a lobster-smack shall sail 
their way to take this product of the sea to market. 
So, through wet, and fog, and summer sunshine, these 
toilers ply their industry in the sea. 

Custom House wharf is a familiar place, with its 
small steamer rubbing uneasily against its piling, 
grinding against its coating of barnacles, bobbing up 
and down as the tide, turning from ebb to flood, 
comes into the dock with a long heavy swell, setting 
agog the big ships moored against the coal-sheds 
opposite. The sun-heat is at its flood on the sloping 
roofs, and the tremulous motion of the atmosphere 
is as plainly visible as is that of the water beneath 
us. The noisy puffing of a hoisting-engine, lifting 
huge buckets of coal from the hold of a vessel close 
by, adds to the annoyances that seem always to beset 
one, with the mercury "rising" ninety, on the shady 
side of the house. A breeze comes from '' out in the 
stream" that one wishes might blow more pertina- 
ciously; but it has died away, smothered in a flurry 
of dust along the street; and the air is more stifling 
yet. The people about the awning-sheltered decks, 
scarce conceal their impatience to be off and down 
the bay; but the boat lazily swings, and tugs at its 
moorings, as if its sole mission were to teach on- 
lookers the Philosophy of Indifference, for it seems 
no nearer starting than a quarter of an hour ago. 

It is a mixed company one sees here; Canadians 
from as far west as Ottawa and Toronto; islanders 



206 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

with their baskets and bundles — hale, heartj^ bluff 
fellows as ever pulled a cod-line on the Banks; city 
people by the score, off for the afternoon; with a 
sprinkling of fishermen and coasting-men going to 
their vessels anchored in the adjacent "roads," while 
their seines are being mended on the upland fields. 
A trio of youthful Italians, with a harp and two 
violins, begin a potpourri of melody that puts every- 
body in more generous humor. These children from 
a far-off country, are shrewd, and keenly alive to the 
chance of getting a penny, or what is better, a nickel ; 
and are apt to measure their modicum of really 
pleasing arias by such surface indications of wealth, 
or impecuniosity, as the audience may possess. The 
httle fellow who brushes by me with a shabby violin 
under his arm, jingling his handful of nickels and 
pennies in his brimless hat, with clothes rusty with 
exposure to rain and sun, has a warm heart, for his 
cheeks are flushed; and his eyes, big and brown and 
sparkling with pleasure, lend a piquant beauty to 
his olive-tinged face. Perhaps the stray, silver 
quarter dropped into his old hat by the beautiful 
girl who leans idly against the flagstaff" has something 
to do with it. Now it is a gavotte; and the little 
fellow plays as if at a serenade under the soft moon- 
light of Italy's skies, and the generous girl were his 
innamorata, in truth. Now it is one of Strauss's 
waltzes; and two little misses are making the most of 
these delightful strains. I hardly know which most 
to admire, the soft strains of the music or the grace- 
ful movements of the children. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 207 

But there is a hint of starting. Some late-coming 
freight is hastily put aboard, and we shall be off a 
moment later. There is enough to see when one is 
tired of looking at his neighbors. Under the wharf 
great, lazy rats come out stealthily, and then scamper 
away with clumsy haste into the crevices in the 
granite walls, frightened perhaps by the puffing of a 
tug that has come into the dock after a vessel, for 
it makes as much noise as if it had a Cunarder in 
tow. The white-winged gulls sweep by the end of 
the wharf, and the loosely-hanging sails of the ships 
about us, mirrored in the green waters below, twist 
and bend into a multitude of intermingling sinuous 
lines and shapes among the bits of brilhant color 
reflected from their hulls. The. air is palpitating 
with mifamiliar sounds, and is thick with pungent 
smells. 

"All aboard!" 

A long shrill whistle, the lines are cast off, — first 
fore, then aft. A belated islander, market-basket in 
hand, hastens across the wharf, and with a daring 
leap, lands safely on deck, — an episode that some- 
times ends differently. The steamer backs from her 
mooring-place, stopping occasionally, as if short of 
breath, but really to let some sailing vessel go by. 
Once in the stream, we make our way down the har- 
bor crowded with coasters, for the storm-signal is up, 
on the Government building, though the zenith is 
clear, with a copper-colored horizon to eastward. A 
queer-looking ol^ject, which might be taken for a 
working model of Noah's Ark, has just passed our 



208 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



stern. It is a ferry-boat, that, despite its ungainly- 
lines, is an improvement on the opposition line, 
especially if one wishes to take his horse and carriage 
along. The captain of the steamer has a great in- 
clination to blow, not his horn, JDut his whistle. 
Every steam craft that comes within earshot is greeted 
with three ear-splitting blasts from somewhere over- 
head, and an answering triplet of shrieks comes in 
reply across the intervening waters. I notice with 




a conscious feeling of elation, that a steam yacht 
goes past without deigning to notice a hail that is 
growing monotonous, and, that is without necessity 
in broad daylight, with a half-mile of leeway and 
plenty of sea-room. 

With so many vessels going in and out, there are 
no pilot boats. Pilotage is not compulsory in these 
waters; so a shipmaster may pilot his ship into port 
without penalty or forfeiture. The harbor is so easy 
of access that few seafarers find occasion for as- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY^ 209 

sistance, though the Enghsh steamers invariably 
take a pilot. For the matter of need, it might be 
asserted with the utmost truthfulness, that there is 
hardly a coaster, or fishing-smack from this to Quoddy 
Head, but almost any one of its crew might be de- 
pended upon, individually, to make port in the dark- 
est night, for the island roads are fairly broad and 
safe, and lead to Fore River, and the inner Cape shore. 
When a pilot is signaled from the outside, the steve- 
dores draw lots to see which one shall go out after 
the vessel and pocket the commission, or pilotage; 
but the men who go piloting, rarely have no more 
than their reputation to lose, and of which most of 
them are very proud. 

The steamer makes straight for a dumpy, white 
light-tower at the end of the granite Breakwater, and 
on the port side, — 

"Are the black wharves and the slips," — 

over which the great West tumbles its products into 
the holds of immense European steamships; and a 
historic spot it is : for here, at the foot of India Street, 
ancient King Street that was, where the roundhouse 
of a Canadian railway now stands, is the site of old 
Fort Loyall of Colonial fame. The sunken ledges of 
Spring Point are close under our keel ; and the Point 
itself is within a pistol shot ; where the low, gray 
walls of Fort Preble, named for a famous commo- 
dore, bask peacefully in the afternoon sun, which 
we might take to be deserted, but for the enlivening 



210 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

strains of the fort band that come to us over the 
water; and that bring to mind the days when the 
fields, now in plain sight, were white with thousands 
of army tents. Recalling an episode of the Revolu- 
tion, it was no doubt in this near neighborhood that 
Captain Mowatt anchored the Canseau, the Cat, and 
two other small sloops one bright October morning 
in 1775, remaining until sundown, during which time 
he diverted himself with the burning of the old town, 
in which he was completely successful. 

One takes a backward look toward the city, with 
Mowatt's attack in mind, and the sites of two 
ancient landmarks are in view, as one follows the 
sky-line of the old town. One is westward, just al)ove 
the jagged roofs of the Falmouth Hotel, and marks 
the site of the old Marston Tavern which stood on the 
easterly edge of old Market Square, on the water 
side. Mowatt was detained for a short time by Col. 
Thompson here, at the old tavern, as a prisoner. 
Perhaps it was for that reason, that the guns of the 
Canseau were trained so destructively upon the old 
hostelry. The old tavern was the place of booking 
for all the stages out of Falmouth, or until the Elm 
Tavern was built, which was about 1826. In the 
course of time the old hostel had served its ends as 
a place of entertainment, and the huge chimney 
amidships was demolished, and with it went the 
ancient association of its like huge open fires, where 
the cocked hats of the town had wagged their gossip, 
or fulminated their anathemas against the English 
oppression, for almost three generations. In the 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



211 



brickwork of the great chimney was found one of 
Mowatt's shot. It was a companion to others that 
on that same eighteenth of October, 1775, went 
crashing through the walls of the big house. If one 
has a curiosity to see the old tavern, one will find it 
on the south side of State 
Street, next above the inter- 
section of York. 

Running along the sky-line 
to eastward, just beyond the 
green domes of Lincoln Park, 
on the corner of Hampshire 
and Congress streets, was the 
old tavern of Mistress Alice 
Greele. It was even more 
renowned than the Marston 
hostel. It was the favorite 
stopping-place of the trapper, 
the farmer, and the lumber- 
man. Of course it had a 
cosey tap-room. Such was 
an important adjunct of all 
inns of the time; and that 

of ]\Iistress Greele's must have been crowned with 
warmth and good cheer. Its landlady was famous 
as a cJief, but her cooking was nothing to her 
heroism as the red-hot shot from Mowatt's fleet 
hurtled through the autumn sunlight, and straight 
toward this old tavern. Of the buildings that 
overlooked the bay that October morning, four 
hundred and fourteen had been burned during the 




SITE OF GREELES TAVERN 



212 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



day's bombardment. The Greele Tavern escaped the 
general destruction, but not through any loyalty its 
habitues felt for it, for, when Mowatt's little fleet 
opened fire, there was a general exodus from town; 
but Mistress Alice Greele remained behind. Unlike 
Mrs. Partington and her broom, Mistress Greele 




THE OLD ELM TAVERN 



caught her water-pail and tlipper, and began the 
patrol of her tavern. Wherever a spark appeared, 
the water flew; and so she fought the English. She 
saved her house, which was, doubtless, all she pos- 
sessed; and her name was added to the list of heroic 
women of the time. 

Here, incoming and outgoing tide meet, making 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 213 

a heavy swell. The boat is soon within the shelter 
of House Island, where the bay is as smooth as an 
inland pond, with here and there a white-cap where 
the wind bears down a bit too hard on the water. 
Over the grassy parapets of Fort Scammell, an un- 
completed fortification that occupies half of the 
island, the summer winds and the shadows of flying 
clouds run riot. The huge derricks stand stark, 
gaunt, and useless in the sunlight. Piles of granite 
obstruct its approaches, and its beautifully designated 
portals will undoubtedly remain unfinished memen- 
tos of the past. Its gray, forsaken bastions, with 
their closed ports, the huge guns lying unmounted, 
and in peaceful solitude along their tops, make better 
Songs of Peace than are written with the pen. There 
was once a blockhouse stockade here that was kept 
in repair by the government for many years; and 
here too was an ancient burying-ground of the In- 
dians, remains of whom were found in a fair state 
of preservation by the builders of Fort Scammell. 
The story-and-a-half cottage of the sergeant who 
watches over Uncle Sam's interests in this vicinity, 
and the comfortable homes of three families, over- 
look the bay from its uplands, and, 

"Blown out and in by summer gales, 
The stately ships with crowded sails 
And sailors leaning o'er the rails." — 

Had one the vision of Cobbler Keezar and his 
magic lapstone, one could see more than heaps of 
faced granite, and unfinished scarp; or, even, with 



214 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



"the gift of the Mormon's goggles 
Or the stone of Doctor Dee," — 

could one crowd out the present and open up the 
old, these walls of Scammell would be as a film, a 
shell, within which was another and more ancient 
place of refuge, or rather an old wooden blockhouse, 
a rude defense which stood for years, before, a suf- 
ficient menace to untoward intrusion, and an abun- 
dant protection against active 
aggression. It is difficult to 
say when this earlier structure 
was built ; but it was a stur- 
dily-built affair, with walls of 
fourteen-inch pine, and oak 
timbers, pinned and dowelled 
together, solidly. It was 
octagon in shape, supplied 
w i t h embrasures, pintle- 
blocks, and gim-circles for 
four guns. The magazine 
w^as of brick, and its upper 
story, for it was a double-decked affair, projected 
over the lower, and was pierced with loop-holes for 
musketry. 

Around all this was a stout stockade of cedar. It 
was allowed to stand for several years after the new 
lines of Scammell were constructed; but that was in 
1808, and five years later Fort Scammell had been 
completed according to the then existent plans. No 
vestige of the blockhouse has existed for many years. 




SCAMMELL 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 215 

Scammell, as a defense against modern armaments, 
would be more destructive to its inmates than open 
exposure to the hottest fire of an assault; but House 
Island is now Government property ; and dirt instead 
of stone, unobtrusive hummocks of bending grasses, 
mildly suggestive of pastoral delights, instead of 
granite angles, and low-browed bastions, and glower- 
ing ports, will meet the scrutiny of the curious. 

This island holds a pleasing prominence in the early 
history of this part of the Maine coast, for it is un- 
doubtedly a fact that here Christopher Levett, wdio 
sailed hither from York, England, in the days of 
James I. built the first house to grace the shores of 
Casco. This was some five or six years before the 
coming hither of George Cleeve from Scarborough to 
begin anew his pioneer life along the low shores of 
Stogummor; and had Levett's house been standing, 
as one has reason to believe it was, it may have been 
for this alone that Cleeve planted his Casco roof- 
tree where he did, for House Island was but a short 
distance dow^n the bay; and Levett's house was 
doubtless, easily discernible. Levett held his house 
in short occupancy; but it is recorded that after his 
abandonment of it, it was frequented by other toilers 
of the sea, who used it for temporary shelter, and its 
surrounding slopes for the partial drying of their 
catches of cod and haddock taken from the neigh- 
boring waters. Casco Bay was the scene of much of 
this early activity in fishery, and was much fre- 
quented by the English fishermen. Likewise, curi- 
osity, among the Old World dwellers, was actively 



216 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

agog as to what transpired in this hmd of continually 
new discoveries; and the wortl went from mouth, to 
mouth, with a remarkable celerity, the Gospel of 
Commerce. It is to this lively interest we owe most 
of what has come to us through the increasing lapse 
of years, and of the annals of these early doings along 
our New England coast. 

The coming of Levett was some eighteen years 
after the voyage of de Monts and Champlain along 
this coast; and perhaps it is fortunate that so beau- 
tiful and attractive a spot should have escaped the 
scrutiny of so excellent an observer as Champlain. 
Had it been otherwise, it is safe to assume that here 
would have been a French settlement, and the his- 
tory of the later English settlements, especially around 
Massachusetts Bay, would have recorded a nuich 
more strenuous experience than fell to the lot of the 
Puritans. The detour of Champlain up the Sheep- 
scot, possibly as far as what is now Wiscasset, under 
the direction of Panounias, a Mt. Desert Indian, is 
doubly suggestive of the adventurous and curious 
disposition of this French explorer. Surely, no more 
promising or seductive array of woods and waters, 
snugly ensconced, and capable of natural defense, 
could be found south of the St. Lawrence; and 
the climate was certainly more equable and easily 
withstood when the inclement days of winter came 
with the southern-going suns. As a base of supplies, 
it would have been incomparable. Champlain would 
have discerned all this, and here would have been 
the nucleus of the French Occupation. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 217 

As it was, Levett was the first to attempt a settle- 
ment of this particular part of the coast. Richmon 
Island, the "Bacchus" Island of de Monts, first oc- 
cupied by George Richmon, from Bandon-on-the- 
Bridge, Ireland, and the scene of the Bagnall tragedy, 
was but slightly its senior in occupancy. Richmon, 
of an adventurous disposition, and of a somewhat 
roving character, is saitl to have built a small vessel 
here, which he loaded with fish and furs, setting 
sail for England; but he was lost on the homeward 
voyage. After his departure from this island, he 
became, like Westbrook of later colonial fame, simply 
a human landmark along the way to its later civi- 
hzation. 

Before the coming of Richmon, Capt. John Smith 
had cast his lines into the teeming deeps hereabout. 
Other adventurous voyagers had filled their ships with 
its treasure of the sea, or filled their wide-spread 
sails with its bracing winds, hastening their pace for 
"merrie England," their holds stuffed with choice 
pelts obtained of the natives along the coast adjacent. 

According to the annals of these early voyagers, 
de Monts and Champlain were here in July of 1605; 
and it was about 1623, seven years before Cleeve 
went to Scarborough, that Levett made his voyage 
hither, touching first at the Isle of Shoals, and after 
that, at the mouth of the Saco, where he first saw the 
"Crystal Hills,'' the Waumhek Methna of the abo- 
rigine. He evidently did not find the basin of the 
Saco to his mind, for he kept on along the coast 
until he had passed through the southerly roadstead 



218 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



of Casco Bay, into the mouth of Fore River, which 
was about two leagues from "Quack," so named 
after a Saco sagamore, and which comprised the 
mainland now known as Cape Elizabeth, a more 
royal and euphonious cognomen. 

Doubtless in those days the low shores of the Cape 
from Portland Head, following the trend of Simon- 




PORTLAND HEAD 



ton Cove, were garnished with dense deciduous 
growths ; unless, perhaps, the ledges, that now make 
the Breakwater foundation, broke the green waters, 
sea-serpent-like, with here and there a glimpse of its 
ragged spine, black and serrate, where now the 
slow lengths of Fort Preble show a narrow strip of 
gray above the yellow sands; and higher up, in the 
middle distance, are the multi-colored villas daintily 
ensconced, — 

" 'mong the embow'iin"; trees." 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 219 

Levett dropped his anchor in the river to which 
he gave his name. That he was dehghted with the 
locality is certain, for not long after he acquired the 
right to set up a plantation at "Quack." That he 
made an extended visit hereabout is likewise certain, 
for, he says, in his relation of his voyage, — "I 
sailed to Quack or York, with the king, queen and 
princes, bow and arrow, dog and kettle, in my boat, 
his noble attendants rowing by in their canoes," — 
the first voyage of state in these regions of which 
there is mention. Here at York, he says he found 
ships from Weymouth, England, the crews of which 
were storing their vessels with fish. When Levett 
told the Indian queen these Englishmen were his 
acquaintances, she bade him welcome them to her 
country and "drank to them." What this vehicle 
of goodwill and affection was, is wholly a matter of 
conjecture. Levett does not say. It must have been 
palatable, for " she drank also to her husband, and 
bid him w^elcome to her country, too ; for you must 
understand that her father was the sagamore of this 
place, and left it to her at his death, having no more 
children. And thus, after many dangers, much labor 
and great charge, I have obtained a place of habita- 
tion in New England, where I have built a house 
and fortified it in a reasonable and good fashion, 
strong enough against such enemies as are these 
savage people." 

One Phippen is said to have been the first authentic 
occupant of House Island. He carried on a fish-yard 
here, but bought land on Cape Elizabeth in 1650; 



220 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

and it is probable that he later located permanently 
on the mainland. A local aiinalist says, referring to 
Phippen's occupancy of this island, "but there nmst 
have been a previous settler; as in 1663, Sampson 
Penley levied an execution against Phippen, upon 
one-quarter of the islands, half of the old house, and 
all of the new house, together with half of the stages." 

Levett's house must have been built of logs, with 
cobbled corners; a most substantial affair, after the 
fashion of the early settler; and it is far to infer, in 
the absence of other record, that this "old house'' 
in which Phippen w^as alleged to have had an attach- 
able interest, was the one constructed by Levett. 

No better evidence than this can be had that 
Levett built him a house; and it is as certain that 
House Island was so called because of its distinguish- 
ing landmark, — the house that Levett built, — and 
no doubt the island was chosen by reason of its iso- 
lation by its environing waters, and the additional 
security to be derived from so favorable a situation. 
The next year, 1624, Levett sailed for England, not 
however without leaving a guard of ten men behind, 
and with the probable purpose that they should en- 
gage in the improvement of his new estate. From 
this, he must have intended to return. It is unfor- 
tunate that he was unable to do so, for he was, for 
the times, a wise and temperate man, conciliating in 
his policy toward the natives; acquiring his territory 
of several thousand acres by purchase from the 
Sagamore who owned it. Evidently his ambitions 
were large, and his views of the future, sanguine. 



r^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BA Y 221 

He had in mind a populous settlement, after the 
fashion of his own English York. He was of the 
right sort of metal; but like Gorges, and others who 
followed after, other hands were to reap the harvest. 
Once in England, he found affairs unsettled. The 
royal aid he had a right to expect never came. The 
rupture with Spain, the intrigues of Buckingham, 
warlike preparations, internal dissensions, the plague, 
and finally the death of King James, precluded the 
realization of Levett's brilliant scheme of coloniza- 
tion of Casco Bay. England and France were at 
serious odds over boundaries, and sovereign rights, 
and grants to the country east of the middle Maine 
Province; but as late as 1627, Levett, still persever- 
ing in the face of great discouragements, had so pre- 
vailed with Charles I. that the latter had ordered 
the churches at York to contribute toward the build- 
ing of the new city across the Atlantic and near the 
domain of the former, and which was to be called 
York. Charles was undoubtedly actuated to do so 
much as this, that a nucleus might be formed to off- 
set the growing influence of the Puritan colony on 
Massachusetts Bay. Whatever may have been the 
financial results of Charles' interest in the matter, a 
year later, we find Levett enveloped in that opacity 
of oblivion which becomes complete under the hard- 
ening process of the accumulating centuries. 

The last reference to Levett, is through Cleeve, from 
whom we have it that Levett, conveyed his Casco 
property to "one Wright," and further, that he, 
Cleeve, bought the W^right title to support his own 



222 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

against the claims of Winter under the Trelawney 
grant. One might be exceeding curious as to the 
fate of the stewards of the Levett vineyard, but 
their story is lost in the wrecking of their master's 
ambitions. They drifted, no doubt, to other settle- 
ments, or mayhap lived among the natives. There 
was Richmond Island not far away, a day's trail 
perhaps along the Cape shore, and less than that 
across country ; and the English fishermen were com- 
ing and going; and southward, reaching along the 
coast to Cape Cod, were here and there the slender 
footholds of their own race. Like other adventurers 
of those early days, they may have been caught up 
on the winds of adversity, and swept, like the dust 
of the highway, into intangibility. 

At the time of Cleeve's coming hither, there is no 
mention of any house on the Neck, or adjacent thereto. 
Had there been such, the legal contest between 
Cleeve and Winter would have developed the fact; 
but such a structure on House Island would have 
attracted no attention, as House Island does not 
appear to have entered the controversy. This latter 
island is of considerable area. Its slopes are easy and 
inclined to the south and west ; and apparently of fair 
quality as tillage land; but the fishing interest pre- 
dominated; and for years the low-roofed, white 
house of the Trefethren family has looked landward 
across the inner bay, and over the reef long crowned 
by the granite pile of old Fort Gorges. Trefethren's 
has been a fish-yarcl since the memory of man; but 
like all else, the mutations of Time, and Change, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



223 



have left only the old white house, and the rotting 
wharves, as the vestiges of a former importance. A 
small fortune was accumulated here; for at one time 
the fishery trade of this Bay was worth annually 
nearly two millions of dollars. A half-million quin- 
tals of cured fish were shipped from here annually, 
and the mackerel pack averaged near one hundred 
thousand barrels for the same time. To this might 




TREFETHREN'S 



be added the herring and lobster catch, which was a 
business of equal importance and value. 

In those days the eastern slopes of the island were 
covered with fish-flakes that gave to them the sem- 
blance of a gray shed-roof of enormous dimensions. 
Down by the water were the cobble-wharves that 
are there to-day, and the neatly whitewashed store- 
houses flank the runs that led up to the flakes. Al- 
most always, in season, one could see a "Banker" 



224 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

unloading her catch. In the adjoining sHps, or on 
the shelving beach, three or four "smacks" are 
heeled partly over with the tide on the ebb; but the 
little steamer has bumped against the end of the 
old wharf, and I clamber ashore. Then it drifts 
away, to head across the channel for " Jones's," one 
of the embryo watering-places of local celebrity, 
hereabout. 

Although it all happened years ago, let me tell it 
as if it were a visit of to-day. I listen, and the voice 
of long ago comes back, — a voice as I remember it, 
that seems to have the quality of a sea-water pickle, 

"Look aout thar, mister!" 

Turning quickly, I barely avoid a wheelbarrow 
load of half-cured fish that is being steered down the 
slopes of the fish-yard, and across the slippery wharf 
into the storehouses. 

"Beg pard'n, Cap'n. Ye see the rain's comin', 
an' these ere fish must be gut under kiver. A black 
claoud in th' west like thet yender, wi' a stiff s'utherly 
breeze t' coax 't daown th' bay, iz a sure sign o' 
wet." 

Here the islander tipped his shapeless slouch hat 
back to take a look at the wooden fish whittled out 
of a pine shingle, no doubt by some youthful Yankee, 
and that played weather-cock on the gable of the 
nearest fish-house. A squint at the darkening dome 
of the thunder-gust that had already hidden the sun, 
a spurt of tobacco juice, an ominous shake of the 
head, and my man ti'undles his wheelbarrow up the 
slope, nmttering to himself, " 't may, an' 't mayn't." 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 225 

The work goes on hurriedly. The fish on the flakes, 
the dryest, are piled upon the big wheelbarrows and 
run down the hill into the houses on the wharf, the 
men hardly stopping to wipe the dripping sweat from 
their faces, so great is their haste, with the shower 
close upon them. There is a low muttering of thun- 
der as the wind dies down, while the sea is like a 
mirror, so still and breathless is the air above it. 
The sea-gulls have disappeared; only the swallows 
dip and skim over the flats, and up the island slopes, 
and over their crest to the parapets of the old fort, 
to wheel about sharply, and again sweep dowm past 
the men among the fish-flakes, with never a whistle, 
or shrill note to disturb the brooding c^uiet, to scour 
the flats again for their winged food. How silent 
and majestic, this approach of the black cloud bear- 
ing down its sullen weight upon the city roofs, and 
crowding along the edge of the mainland! The sails 
of the vessels in the offing, hang limp and spiritless, 
flapping mayhap with some fugitive gust that has 
ridden out in advance of the windy cohorts of the 
storm; but mark the colors of the sky! Huge snow- 
banks of massed cloud seem always to be on the 
point of rolling down the steeps of this black preci- 
pice of vapor, creviced with such jagged seams of 
flame. On either side, the sky is of a rich metallic 
brilliancy, gleaming like the softest lustre of tur- 
quoise, with just a tender hint of emerald about it; 
as if it had caught some faint reflection of the trees 
and fields that lay so breathless below. One can 
hear the roar of the wind now; and the dust, like a 



226 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



low cloud of smoke, rolls off the land into the sea. 
What a cool sound it is, so full of moisture and 
shadow ! 

The men work on, wheeling the dryer fish into these 
low-roofed whitewashed storehouses, piling the more 
moist into heaps of a dozen or more along the hem- 
lock boards of the fish-flakes, covering them one after 
another with a simple device — two short boards 
nailed V-f ashion — which affords 
effectual shelter during the 
heaviest rain-storm. 

A few big drops come patter- 
ing down; that is all. The 
'4ieft" of the shower has crept 
eastward by the mainland, but 
the work is over for the day, 
among the flakes. There will 
' be no more showers to-day and 

the sun is too low clown in the sky to be of any 
more service in the fish-yard. If to-morrow dawns 
clear, the flakes will be covered with cod and hake 
before the dew is well off the grass. 

It is an interesting process, this curing of the fish 
that have come from the far-away Newfoundland 
Banks. Here is a schooner that has arrived from 
the Banks to-day. Her sails are mildewed and tat- 
tered; her spars are gray and weather-worn with so 
much of fog and storm, but her lines are as graceful 
and beautifully drawn as if she had been built for 
yachting, instead of fishing along the Grand Banks. 
" Han'sum, ain't she? Tuk th' prize in the schooner 




YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 227 

race two years ago. She's been t' the Gran' Banks 
this five year, an' has alius bin lucky. Some air 
lucky, an' sum ain't; some git good fares, an' some 
doan't pay thar stockin'!'' 

It is the owner of the wharf who has accosted me. 

"Rather an uncertain way by which to get one's 
living, I should say." 

"Wall, yis, 'pears so; but some on 'em git well off; 
more doan't. It's like enything else. Depen's on 
the man summat. I alius tho't the man made the 
chance. I tell ye w'at 'tis. Mister, ther's folks an' 
folks; ther's smart ones, an' them az ain't s' smart. 
Them ez is alius in debt an' spen's ez fast ez they go, 
an' a leetle bit faster, '11 never git on nohow. I've 
hearn tell on a feller ez wuz called Franklin, who 
saved half 'is airnin's, ef 'twarn't mor'n tupence a 
day; but the most o' the men ez goes in the Bank- 
ers air too gen'rous t' save 'a dollar, an' th' lawyers 
gits arter 'em wi' trustees an' sich like; so, 'twixt 
one thing, an' anuther, an' the big prices they lies t' 
pay fer ther hooks, an' lines, an' ile-clo'se, an' ther 
drinks, ther's nuthin' left fer the folks t' hum. My 
'sper'ence is, a man hes t' hev er mean stre'k, er 
som'thin' mighty nigh outer it, t' git fore-handed." 

"W'at time do they git away t' the Banks? Most 
on 'em lay in ther salt an' bait, thet is, stock the ves- 
sel, so ez ter git away 'bout the fust o' Aprel. It's 
'a thousan' mile ter the Gran' Banks: an' it's a' tol- 
'able smart vessel thet gits thar in ten days, with 
fogs 'n icebergs alius in the way, an' steam craft t' 
look aout fer day an' night. Thar's danger 'nuff in 



228 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



th' best o' weather fer th' schooner ez goes ther three 
t' four months arter salt fares. 

"Haow meny go in sich a craft ez this ere? Wal, 
sum'times mor, an' sum'times less. Um, twelve t' fif- 
teen's 'a fair crew, with 'a dory t' each man; an', 
when they git thar, the men go aout inter th' mist an' 
fog thet comes daown wi' the icebergs, day arter day, 




A BANKER 



sawin' away et the rail o' the dory with a big cod- 
line witli a hook an' clam on the end on't. Sum'- 
times the fog settles daown s' thick the men can't 
find the schooner. A New F'un'lan' fog hain't t' be 
grinned et; an' thar's hardly 'a day goes by, but 
thar's rain, an' sleet, an' mist. Wen I vised t' go t' 
the Banks, arter the day's fishin', all ban's 'd turn 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 229 

tew, an' dress the fish. V\e used t' be mighty quick 
'bout 't. Didn't hev no loafin' 'n aour crew. \\"en 
we gut 'em all split an' dressed we packed 'em away 
'n the hold, pihn' the salt onter the fish t' keep 'em 
'tell the fare wuz full, w'en we'd set sail fer hum, 
gittin' daown 'ere sum'eres 'bout th' fust o' August." 

It is a life of danger, and the men w^ho engage in it 
are keenly alive to the fact; but there are few salt- 
water enterprises that engage the attention of a 
hardier, or more intelligent class of New Englanders 
than this. 

Here the fish, sodden with salt, are being thrown 
from the hold of the schooner to its deck with a 
pitchfork, such as the inland farmer uses in his 
haying field; and are thence taken to the wharf, 
where they are thoroughly washed in large tubs of 
sea-water. Well-rinsed, they are thrown into large 
piles, backs down, — kentched — and left a day or 
so to flatten, after which they go to the flakes to dry. 
A few days of bright sunshine, with an off-shore wind, 
prepares them for the storehouse, where, closely 
packed from floor to ceiling, they go through the 
^^ sweating'' process which occupies about fifteen clays. 
The last drying follows, for which, one clear wdndy day 
suffices; and the white, tender codfish of the market 
and grocery-store is packed away for shipment. In the 
dull, heavy atmosphere of "Dog-days" the fish, not 
infrequently, rot on the flakes, tho' the sun shines 
never so brightly. This is the " light-salting'' method; 
but the greater part cured hereabout, are ^^heavy- 
salted,'" which require less time and labor, and are 



230 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

darker in color. It is healthy, vigorous work about 
the fish-yards, and the men have the breezy out-of- 
door air that is characteristic of their calling. It is 
not singular that fish-yards have been of ancient 
repute here ; for, among these islands was the favorite 
fishing-ground of the savages, whose campfires, burn- 
ing for the most part far inland, were lighted once a 
year, and the smokes of their wigwam fires blew out 
to sea with the autumn mists, while their dusky 
dwellers went to their fishing in this realm of Nature's 
silences. 

Among the earliest who came into this section of 
the country was Henry Jocelyn. His brother John 
came over from England and a reception was given 
to him; and among the quaint memoranda in his 
journal is his description of the occasion, reproduced 
here, as it referred mostly to an incident said to have 
occurred in this immediate vicinity. "At this time," 
June 26th, 1639, ''we had some neighboring gentle- 
men in our house who came to welcome me into the 
country, where, amongst a variety of discourse, they 
told me of a young lion not long before killed at 
Piscataqua, by an Indian; of a sea-serpent or snake 
that lay coiled up like a cable upon a rock at Cape 
Ann; a boat passing by, with two English aboard 
and two Indians, they would have shot the serpent 
but the Indians dissuaded them, saying that if he 
were not killed outright they would all be in danger 
of their lives. One Mr. Mitton related of a Triton 
or Merman, which he saw in Casco Bay; the gentle- 
man was a great fowler and used to go out with a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



231 



small boat or canoe, and fetching a compass about 
a small island, there being many islands in the bay, 
for the advantage of a shot, he encountered a Triton, 
who, laying his hand upon the side of the canoe, 
had one chopped with a hatchet by Mr. Mitton, 
which was in all respects like a man. The Triton 
presently sank, dyeing the water with his purple 
blood and was no more seen." 

These story-tellers must have enjoyed themselves 
hugely at Jocelyn's expense, whose imagination no 
doubt kept even pace with his credulity ; and no doubt 
many a group of wide-eyed English children listened 
to these wonderful tales from the New Land, when 
Jolm Jocelyn sailed back across the sea in his old- 
fashioned sailing-vessel, to his old-fashioned English 
fireside. It is not to be wondered at, that New 
England owns so many good story-tellers nowadays, 
when her early settlers could show themselves so apt 
at romancing. 




OLD MOUNTJOY'S ISLAND 






^■SSSi^i., 




OLD MOUNT JOY'S ISLAND 




f HOVE off, man!" 

A half-mile from these old fish- 
yards on House Island, across a 
'--^ narrow ocean roadstead, and a 
short two miles eastward from 
ancient Poodack, is what was once 
old Moimtjoy's Island. There 
was a stone house here two hun- 
dred years ago, a place of refuge from the Indians, 
no traces of which exist at the present time. The 
place of its standing is a mystery. On an ebb tide, a 
strong current runs out this narrow water-way by 
famous "VMiite Head, and, as my ferry-man sets me 
across, every dip of his port oar throws the salt spray 
into the dory and about my shoulders, with a sensa- 
tion of increasing moisture, for the wind has fresh- 
ened since the shower, and the channel is covered 
with white-caps. 
Here, is "Jones's." 

I toss my ferryman a silver coin, which he tests 
with his teeth, and, with a movement expressive of 

235 



236 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



satisfaction, he drops it into what, in its newer days, 
was a shot-bag, which, puckered, and twisted, and 
tied with a single string, he thrusts into his baggy 
trousers, to push offshore with a broad smile on his 
face, and a "Thanky, sir!" rolling off his Yankee 
tongue. 

"Jones's " was once a heterogenous community, a 
semi-populous one at certain seasons of the year, and 




JONES'S 



at certain times of the day, which one realized as, leav- 
ing the stubby-nosed wharf, he climbed the steep, 
ungraded foot-way, rain-gullied, and stre^^Tl with loose 
pebbles, to a sloping greensward littered with bits 
of torn paper and the debris of lunch-baskets; for 
here was a group of ancient apple-trees, with some 
benches under them, that were occupied, most of the 
time in sunny weather, by youngish folk of flirta- 
tious tendencies, who ogled and grimaced with vary- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 237 

ing degrees of success, to the great amusement of 
grown-up people. 

It was a slovenly-kept green, with onh* the wind 
to sweep it every afternoon. 

I query whether this may be the place I knew 
some years before, with all these affairs of booths 
and buildings, crowding about its gateway. 

Reaching the single island street, I find the same 
old incomparable pictures that Nature paints in 
June to hang against the sky. 

"Jones's'' has aspirations. It will tell you, if you 
let the native play oracle, that here is to be a second 
Mont Desert; but don't for the world look incredu- 
lous; he believes it, as does every other native who 
has a plat of land to sell. Taking boarders, or ply- 
ing some catch-penny occupation makes up its sum- 
mer enterprise; but the growth of the place as a 
summer-resort, has come more by reason of the charm- 
ing outlooks from its hill-tops, its cool, invigorating 
winds, its bold shores and salt water environment, 
than by any good wit of its resident population, or 
the generosity of the city of which it is a part; for 
its artificial attractions are all in the line of dime 
shows, and like enterprises, to lure transient patron- 
age. 

The land is mostly in the hands of the old settlers, 
who dislike to part with a parcel, here or there, and 
who dream of fabulous prices. It is a vain dream, 
with only a single thoroughfare along its cityward 
side, hardly equal to some country roads I have in 
mind, — a few weeks of limited accommodation in 



238 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



summer, a dance-hall, a roller-coaster, and a monkey- 
garden, with a dime opera house and the consequent 
hubbub. But get away from this artificiality, and 
summer life here has the charming quality of natu- 
ralness and restfulness; or it had, some years ago, 
when I spent a summer tramping over its woodland 
paths, its fields, and along its rocky shores after an 
idle fashion; or rowing from one island to another, 




AN OLD SETTLER 



digging a basket of clams one day, and on another 
shooting a bag of plover for a pot-pie, either of which 
are toothsome enough to tempt an epicurean, with 
their fresh, juicy, gamey flavor. 

Strolling over the beaches in June, one sees broad 
lines of yellow along their pale sands as the tide 
creeps slowly out. It crumbles between the fingers 
like a powder, and is the cause of much speculation 
as to its origin. The natives insist that it is sulphur; 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 239 

and that it comes from the chffs on Chebeague, but 
the naturahst knows better. It is the yellow pollen 
of the ox-eyed daisy that makes the fields of the 
mainland white all summer long. It is very notice- 
able some years. Sometimes the water is covered 
with it, as with a yellow scum. 

A trip city-ward on a June morning is a treat never 
to be forgotten by the lover of the picturesque. The 
mainland, not over a league away, is a broad streak 
of rich, warm tones, and above this is as blue a sky 
as one can imagine, a cloudless west in truth; and 
over the bay a light, thin vapor, a filmy diaphanous 
mist, rises from the waters to a level of two or three 
feet; and there it hangs, wavering with tremulous 
hesitancy until the smi has drunk it up, when the 
sea is an immense emerald-tinted mirror, within 
which every object above it is reproduced with a 
marvellous distinctness. The island shores are 
touched with high lights, and dented with deep shad- 
ows; and the city, a league away, is just a bit blurred 
and softened by the smoke of its countless chimneys. 
The quiet is absolute; and over all is the fairest, 
mellowest of summer skies. If the morning is de- 
lightful, the return at sundown is not less so, or less 
refreshing. Leaving town as the shadows of its gray 
walls creep out over the docks, huge masses of dusky 
house-roofs lean against a wall of gold, with every 
spire, tower, and gable silhouetted against the glory 
beyond. It is a rare grouping of sombre tones and 
shadows in the middle-groimd, drawn sharply against 
the brilliance of a sunset sky; it is dark against light. 



240 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

with inarvellous effect. The picture grows more 
beautiful as the western fires go down. There is the 
same quiet of the morning. But here is a picture at 
sea. The harbor is glassy-hke, and drowsy, as in the 
morning, only the emerald is become turquoise; and 
the ships are motionless against the background of 
the island landscape, while their masts cast attenu- 
ated reflections in the water below. A low mantle 
of mist drifts in over the island horizon; and the 
slender shafts of the spruces break through into the 
ruddy glow above, and much resemble the spires of 
a distant town; but, as w^e get nearer the islands, 
the fog recedes, and the atmosphere is perfectly clear, 
as in the earlier day. 

The islands hereabout, have much the same char- 
acteristics in connnon. The same mixture of ever- 
green and deciduous woods crown the island cliffs 
and hillocks; the same outlying formations of schis- 
tose rock, worn and eaten into ragged, dangerous 
spines by the constant wearing of the waters; the 
same overhanging w^alls of massive stone-w^ork, 
scarred with deep fissures, and set with huge embras- 
ures; the same green water breaking over ledges and 
hurriedly receding, leaving pools in their crevices, 
tinted with the color of sky and cloud, singing to 
themselves with a low crooning monotone, surging 
in and out with the tide; the same blue dome, bright 
and clear as heart might wish; or choked with 
clouds, and fog, and wet, or black with wind storms, 
and sleet and snow\ These outer island barriers 
make the coast a dangerous one, when the equinoc- 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



241 



tial and winter gales blow the sea in upon them, 
making incessant roar, and hurling great waves, tons 
in weight, like missiles, up over the tops of the highest 
cliffs, or far in over the lower shores. Language is 
powerless to paint the grandeur, and power of these 
waters, the sullen music of which is lost in ever- 
lowering cadences among the neighboring islands. 
But when the waves are still, as the afternoon shad- 
ows deepen, and grow along the polished sea-walls. 














ONE OF NATURE S COURT-YARDS 



stained and streaked with ochres, yellows, reds and 
purples, some of these cliffs and rocky battlements 
look like huge mosaics set in a sea of bronze. The 
charm is not all in the sea, for over the rough acres 
that make the great tramping-ground for the multi- 
tude who come here for an afternoon outing, are 
spots of wild beauty. I have never seen the Swamp 
rose in such profusion, as along the walls and fences 
in the lower grass-lands of some of these islands. In 
the depths of the woods, reached by many a winding 



242 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

path, are open wet-places, Nature's court-yards, with 
the tall trees hedging them about in abundance; with 
wild-flowers spattering their bright green carpets 
with rich color-tones, with broad-faced lichens in all 
colors on every rock ; rare polypodys for backgrounds ; 
and Druid beeches, wide-armed, with smooth gray 
coats, that make one long, as in the days of boy- 
hood, to girdle them with a name, that another year 
would be hardly more than a distorted hieroglyphic; 
and then, what sweet odors from the spruces, and 
firs, that crowd against one everywhere, — only I 
miss the stalwart white pine. It may be here, but 
I have not seen it. 

Most of the island steamers leaving the city, point 
their prows straight for "Jones's"; and it is only a 
matter of twenty minutes before they are lazily 
chafing their guards against the thick-set, slimy piling 
of a wharf built by the ancestor of the ancient family 
of "Jones"; and which is likely to remain a monu- 
ment, for some years to come, of the way things were 
done by a dead-and-gone generation. On this side, 
city-ward, the shore falls off gradually; and in the 
ofhng, is a fringe of boats of odd size and color, that, 
with the action of the tide, are continually grouping 
themselves into picturesque disorder, and add a con- 
stant charm to the water. Everybody along shore 
has a water-craft of some sort, and the punt and dory 
are most common; but a dipper is as necessary to 
a punt as a pair of oars, for it can hardly be called 
water-tight. A punt is a diminutive craft anyway, 
holding hardly two persons, which may have been a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



243 



consideration in the mind of its first builder. It is 
hardly safe to trust one's self alone in such a leaky 
concern; and it is equalh'' hazardous to take a com- 
panion. One to row and the other to bail, is a con- 
dition of safety in a punt, hereabouts. If there is 
an abundance of sailing craft, there is a dearth of 
horses and draught cattle; and I doubt if, at any time, 
the assessor's v. 

books would 
show more than 
a single horse, 
and a pair of 
red oxen, — they 
were red when 
I saw them last, 
— they may be 
gray by this, for 
all I know. They 
would be aged 
enough certain- 
ly, if cattle ever 
grow gray. 

Along the single roadway I have before alluded to, 
are the more pretentious dwellings, the cottages, and 
summer houses; with here and there a quaint gable 
peering, in a shame-faced way, out upon an avenue 
lined with Queen Anne monstrosities, painted in a 
half-dozen colors, much as an Indian might get him- 
self up for a festival or a war-dance; as if it were not 
quite sure of its company. About the ragged hill- 
top was a landmark, the slim spire of an old gray 




AN ISLAND ROAD 



244 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

church, that hi its newer clays was more frequented 
than now; and under the shadows of its eaves is the 
burying-ground. The schoolhouse, hardly a stone's- 
throw from the meeting-house, with the bleak, ex- 
posed burial-place, make a group typical of the old 
New England of which Drake writes so charmingly. 
All these things lend a rare picturesc[ueness to what 
one may see about a locality, commonplace enough, 
if one takes its patronymic at its face value. About 
the older structures, there is the w' eather-worn quaint- 
ness, and an air of quiet decadence, that makes one 
think of fishing-tow^ns, with the dilapidated wharf and 
a fish-house at its shore-end like "Fisher's," within 
the shadows of which I have dug many a basket of 
luscious clams. There is a charm to the shallows, 
and black sands, and the lapsing tides, if one has no 
better occupation than the joining a group of urchins 
whose desire culminates in the hooking of a cunner 
or a tom-cod, to finally dangle a line himself. How 
easily the man is metamorphosed into the boy, with 
so many boys about; and so much of boyish interest 
and inclination to arouse the dormant boyish spirit 
that lingers in every man's make-up! 

The sight of a small boy bobbing his line on the 
flood-tide, gives me a boyish longing to wind that 
self-same line about my own finger; to feel for a 
moment the sharp conscious bite that betrays the 
hungry cunner. The cunner is a beautiful fish, 
closely resembling the fresh-water perch in its iri- 
descent armor of tiny, close-knit scales that glisten 
like mother-of-pearl in the sunshine. There is also 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 245 

a family resemblance in the array of bony lances 
along its spine, that make grievous wounds if the fel- 
low is too carelessly handled. From the digging 
over of the wet sands for a handful of stray clams, 
and the breaking of their brittle shells on the plank 
of the old w^harf, to the cutting off of their black 
heads and the impaling of them, one by one, as oc- 
casion requires, upon the slender Limerick, — for the 
small trout hook is the best for cunner fishing, — 
with the sunmier sunshine over all, and a fresh, salty 
breeze blowing landward, puffing out the sails of the 
yachts, up and down, the island roads, there is a zest; 
a fascination; the climax of all which, is the pulling 
up of a fat, half-pound cunner, twisting, wriggling, 
flopping with all a cunner's energ}-, until you have 
landed your prize in your basket. The cunner on 
the seashore takes the place of the trout inland. 
Catching cunners off the rocks of these bold shores, 
with the surf continuall}^ filling one's ears with its 
liquid symphonies, along with the whistling wind 
and the cry of the sea-birds, is next of kin to catch- 
ing trout from the rippling meadow brook; yet, I 
prefer the green meadows as a tramping ground, with 
their newness and perfume, their narrow vistas of 
elms, and songs of cat-birds and thrushes, to the 
wide outlook of the sea, with its swirling waters and 
ceaseless monody. There is magic in a fishing-pole 
wherever you may find it; if, perchance, there be a 
pool of sparkling water in the neighborhood over 
which one may swing its slender, bending tip, with 
the likelihood of catching a fish. This sort of ex- 



246 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

hilaration is thought by some to be a cruel sport; 
but fishes were made for the well-being of mankind; 
and if I am to depend upon my physician for a bit 
of "toning up," I prefer to try my luck first with 
Sir Salmo Fontinalis. 

But what's in a name, with so much poetry of the 
sea about! During the mackerel season, schooners 
put in here with their seines badly damaged by the 
sword-fish that go tearing through them after their 
prey; or that have been torn on the ledges in stormy 
weather. Then the great seine-boats are loaded 
with fathoms on fathoms of these long black nets, 
from the herring or mackerel smacks, — often four 
to five hundred yards in length ; — then rowed ashore 
to be unloaded into neighbor Trott's ox-cart, and 
pulled up the gullied footway to the fields, where 
they are carefully spread out to dry, and afterward to 
be mended. Spread out over the green grass they 
look hke immense webs of gauze, or muslin, in the 
sunhght ; and so finely spun are the threads, that one 
must look closely to see the netting at all. The men 
work oftentimes a week on a single net when it is 
badly torn; but these fishermen are deft workmen, 
and no time is wasted; for they must ply their trade 
on the seas, a field whose harvest is always ripe. 
These vessels have an Arab-like way of going and 
coming; disappearing in the night-time, to, as mys- 
teriously, reappear a few days later. This mending 
of the nets by the sea has a romance of its own ; and 
I never see the shimmering needles of the net-menders, 
but I wonder if they are thinking of those humble 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 247 

fishers, who from mending their nets by the shores 
of GaUlee, became "fishers of men." 

A grocery store is prosaic enough at any time, with 
its plethora of boxes on its single counter, or on its 
dirt-begrimed gray-painted shelves, and scattered 
about the floor; its corners occupied by molasses 
hogsheads, oil barrels, quintals of salt-fish, bags of 
potatoes, and bins of salt, — a sort of squatter sov- 
ereignty, — while other shelves are sagging under 
their burden of spices, soaps, and caddies of to- 
bacco; and atop of all, the inevitable row of glass 
lamp-chimneys. Bizarre advertisements, many of 
them quite works of art, from a mechanical point 
of view, fill in the blank spaces here and there, 
compelling brief attention. Their colors are ' pleas- 
ing and suggest the days of the famous Prang, 
and seem strangely out of place here among these 
plebeian smells. Coils of tarred rope and twine 
hang from the beams; and from the nails, driven 
along their sides, depends a crockery exhibit, 
meagre in its variety, but not less interesting to 
the housewife who has discovered that things made 
nowadays do not seem to last as the old things 
did. A couple of settees, notched and hacked by 
the knives of the neighborhood loafers, flank the 
rusty stove amidships; and the tobacco stains and 
whittlings about the floor, show the habitues of 
the place to be veritable Yankees; while, outside 
the door, numerous boxes are improvised as set- 
tees for use in fair weather. Such surroundings 
are as familiar to the average countryman, as his 



248 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

own fireside; but the grocery at "Jones's" is the 
haunt of all the "old salts" on the island; and the 
sea-yarns that are spun herein, on quiet summer 
afternoons, or on blustering winter nights when the 
winds from the sea set the little store a-tremble, lend 
to it a charming flavor of romance. 

Lounging about this place one summer day, I 
heard old Siah Starlin', who saw the famous sea- 
fight off Monhegan between the British brig Boxer 
and the Yankee privateer Enterprise, relate how it 
all took place. It was a mixed group, as one finds at 
the grocery, — the neighborhood exchange, — of sum- 
mer boarders and natives; as if there WTre something 
of stimulating and exhilarating quality in the plain 
ways and homely speech of these islanders, as there 
really is. Many of them carry more of quaint phil- 
osophy in their everyday trousers' pockets, than some 
people carry in their noddles; and homely as their 
wit may be, it is natural, and entertaining. Some 
fishermen, who have been mending their nets in the 
field opposite, cross the highway with their bags of 
twine, and loiter a moment, their visages brown with 
exposure, and their eyes a-t winkle with observant in- 
terest, as they scan these "lotus-eaters," these sum- 
mer dilettante ; as if wondering what they were really 
good for, any way. I am not so sure but the people 
who live in the out-of-the-way places by the seashore, 
and who never get out of sight of their gray roofs, 
or the hearing of the restless sea, and they who live 
the larger part of the year in town, when they meet 
at the seaside, or among the hills, may each look upon 



YE ROMA.XCE OF CASCO BAY 



249 



the other as foreigners, with such differences in garb, 
in tastes, and ways of living. 

The weather, and the next " fishin' trip" with Cap'n 
Fisher are congenial topics; but a knot of gray- 
headed "salts" sitting on the stoop in the shadow 
of the grocery gable, are discussing this Monhegan 
fight; and the old man Starlin', who seemed to know 




MONHEGAN 



more of the matter than any of his hearers, begins a 
story, that is all the more interesting, from the fact, 
that it was up this roadstead the Enterprise towed 
the Boxer the next day after the fight. From this 
highway one may see a group of trees, under the 
shadows of which, was laid all that was mortal of the 
brave commanders of the two vessels, both killed on 
that historic summer afternoon of 1814. 



250 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"1 r'member it, 's if 'twaz yisterday. I saw the 
hull on't, — 'n' 'twaz a big fight. We lived on 
M'nhiggin 'n them ar days, 'n' 'twixt farmin', 'n' 
fishin', 'n' the like, managed t' git on with a big 
fam'ly o' yomikers. The Boxer an' Rattler hed bin 
standin' off 'n' on M'nhiggin, the hull summer, 
watchin' fer coasters; 'n' a gret meny hed bin de- 
stroyed; 'n' pressin' the sailors inter the British sar- 
vice, a matter consarnin' which I allers hed my own 
idees; but arter a while the Rattler went off, leavin' 
the Boxer cruise'n on her own hook. The day, afore 
the fight, wuz Saturday, We began t' dig the per- 
taters; 't had been a dry summer, and the pertaters 
ripened off arly. Thet arternoon, the coasters hove 
'n sight. The Britisher gut sight on 'em, 'n' launched 
her barges; but they didn't 'mount ter nuthin'; fer 
they'd scursely left the ship afore a ' sliavin^ -milV cum 
aout o' New Harbor 'n' driv' 'em back. Thet's wut 
they called privateers 'n them days. 

"Ther wuz 'a gret movin' 'bout on the Boxer t' 
git under sail. A signal-gun wuz fired fer the men 
az wuz ashore after game 'n' berries, 'n' sich; a com- 
mon enuf happenin'. But gittin' under way, she 
bore t' west'ard 'thout ketchin' either on 'em, an' 
finally put inter John's Bay. The nex' day noon, 
'twuz the fifth o' September, we went t' the top o' 
the hill, takin' a spy-glass with us, 'n' there we wuz 
jined by three officers of the Britisher, the ship's 
doctor, a leftenant, 'n' a middy, who wuz ashore, 
gunnin', the day afore', 'n' didn't hear the signal. 
They wuz gettin' the lay of the'r ship; but the only 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 251 

sail 'n sight, wuz a brig off Seguin, bearin' daown 
the s'utheast side of M'nhiggin." 

'"Wut brig 'z thet?' asked tlie surgin, o' father. 

"'It's the Enterprise,' wuz the reply, arter a long 
look. 

" The surgin sed t' the leftenant in 'n undertone, — 
I heerd it all, ef I wuz a boy, — ' Ef Cap'n Blyth 
takes 'er, he's t' hev a fine ship w'en we git hum.' 

"The Boxer 'd discivered the brig, 'n' under full 
sail, steerin' 'bout sou-sou-east, bore daown the bay, 
but tew late, fer the Yankee shot squar' 'cross 'er 
bow, hauled up t' the wind, keepin' t' th' s'uth'ard 
past M'nhiggin in sarch 'f the Ratthvy w'ile the 
Britisher gave starn chase. The Rattler hed gone. 
The Yankee hauled in sail 'if gut reddy for t' fight. 
The Boxer cum up, 'n' poured in a wild bro'dside, 
w'en the Enterprise whirled short on 'er heel, 'n' 
jest raked the Boxer fore 'n' aft. A few minits arter, 
she passed her starn with a secon' rakin' fire. The 
Boxer wuz completely outsailed. In less then a 
half-hour, a third rakin' fire wuz sent 'cross the 
Boxer's bows, thet bro't daown the main-top-mast 
'n' er number o' men who wuz tryin' t' tare her 
flag from whar it had bin nailed, — 'n' the fight wuz 
over. The ships wer' side by side, 'n' the smoke hed 
drifted aout ter sea. 'T wuz jest a good workin' 
breeze, 'n' the Enterprise sailed raound, 'n' raound her 
enemy, no daoubt disabled the fust fire. 

"The officers bo't a boat of father 'n' put off t' 
th'r own ship, but wuz not allowed t' bo'rd 'er. So 
they cum back t' the farmhouse fer shelter over night. 



252 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

" Supper wuz over, 'n' mother 'd cleared the things 
away. 'Twuz mos' dark, w'en ther wuz a rap on the 
door; father went t' see w'at wuz the matter, an' 
it wuz the officers cum back. 

"'Mr. Starhn', we hev no money, but aour guns 
ar' jest aout on the porch 'n' you may hev 'em 'n' 
welcome, ef you'll take us in over night.' 

"Gran'mother cum t' th' door an' said, 'I hev 
em, my son!' She 'd taken the guns 'n' hidden 
'em." 

Such was Uncle 'Siah's story of a memorable, and 
always glorious, exploit, — the first seafight won by 
an American cruiser after the loss of the Chesapeake. 
There was no one here who could dispute the tale, 
that, told in the dialect of a bronze-visaged sea-dog, 
owned something of the old-time romance of the 
battle; and the moist eyes of the narrator were not 
least in the charm of personal relation. 

The winds blow across the waters the fragrant 
odors of the mainland fields and woods, where the 
wide marshes give way to the mowing-lands that 
slope so gently down to the sea; and fast asleep amid 
the trees along their highways are the thrifty farm- 
houses. Faint lines of dust show where their beaten 
tracks run; and over all falls the strong white sun- 
light. In the low-lying shore opposite, with its net- 
work of shadows, its bright sands, wet and dripping 
with the tide, holding everything in bright reflection, 
the painted boats drawn up here and there, the 
tender blue of the sky, with the roofs and domes of 
the neighboring town leaning against it, the spark- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



253 



ling waters streaked with wooded isles, with white- 
winged ships coming and going between, or swinging 
out the stream with slackened sails, are pictures that 
once seen, are forgotten never; while their traditions 
seem onlv the more real. 




THE WIZARD OF CASCO 




THE WIZARD OF CASCO 




L]\IOST three centuries ago, a 
Spanish navigator, named Car- 
tier, came to the coast of North 
America, and, sailing along its 
northeasterly trend, discovered 
an extensive sheet of water 
hemmed about by miles of curv- 
ing mainland, and studded with beautiful islands. 
To the broad tongue, or southerly rib of this, which 
makes its southwestern wall, he gave the name of 
Cabo de Muchas hias, Cape of ]\Iany Islands, 
though on Hood's map, 1592, the name is given to 
the western headland at the mouth of the Rio des 
Guamos, probably the Penobscot. This bold, out- 
reaching cape, or promontory rather, if one goes by 
his knowledge of physical geography, was depicted 
with much accuracy of outline upon the various Span- 
ish maps; it appears, as well, upon the atlas of ]\Ter- 
cator; and is given much geographical importance and 

257 



258 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

prominence in the charts of an earlier date. Starting 
from ancient Cape Hondo, better known in these 
days to school-children and sailors, as the Nova Sco- 
tian Cape Sable, and running southerly, the first 
prominent point, or landmark, is the Penobscot; a 
river once known as the Rio de Goynez of the old- 
time map-makers. Next southward, is this striking 
headland overlooking the swarthy rocks and yellow 
sands of Poodack, with their twin lighthouses and 
their towers that day and night, — 

Watch the salt tides rise and fall, 

And the seas of Casco glisten, 
Where, beneath the wind-blown mist, 

Birchen slopes and barren ledges 
Greet their shores of amethyst. 

All along the coast of Maine, from Piscataqua, east- 
ward, over two thousand miles of ocean frontage, 
fretted with the embroidery, that Nature works 
through the ages, of hundreds of capes and bluntly- 
moulded promontories, broad harbors and shelter- 
ing coves, gusty inlets that run a long way inland 
among the pleasant farms and home-lots, and tree- 
embossed islands, there is not a single one of them 
all, more bold and picturesque, or more grand on 
stormy days, or when the equinoctial gales blow in 
from the Gulf Stream, than this Spanish-christened 
cape of many islands, that, a hundred years later 
had taken on the local cognomen of Pur Poodack. 
Before that it was known as Quack by the Indians. 
Where the name Pur Poodack originated, or how it 



YE ROMAXCE OF CASCO BAY 259 

came to be affixed to the lands hereabout, is tradi- 
tionally accounted for, by the pathetic legend of an 
Indian of the vicinity who shot at a duck, and dis- 
abled, instead of killing it. Whereat the Aborigine 
exclaimed, in his compassion, — "Poor duck! Poor- 
poor-duck! " 

I give it, as it came to me: and, homely as it is, 
one hears it to this day among the natives, though 
it bears a more royal name. 

This whole coast is one of romantic interest, and 
almost every inlet or jutting point has its legends, 
that are told to the children when the shadows of 
the evening shut down over the woods and hills; or 
as a sleep-distilling accompaniment to the snapping, 
crackling, winter indoor-fires. Here was a land of 
marvellous beauty; a New World Archipelago; for in 
sight of this breezy dome of rock and stunted wood- 
land, was an island for every day in the year. Pur 
Poodack, or by a more queenly translation, Cape 
Elizabeth, in a heavy wind, from any point of the 
compass between south and east, is considered by 
sailors, one of the most dangerous places on the 
Maine coast; a double assurance of which one may 
read in the two snow-white towers that stand at the 
gateway of these island roads; and the bright hghts 
of which, are a most welcome sight to the helmsman 
when the thick drizzling fog shuts down over him; 
or a driving squall builds its crystal barrier between 
him and the ledges along shore. 

There is nothing of a cowardly or shrinking quality 
in the impression one gets in the seeing of this head- 



2GU 



r-^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



land for the first time. Puritan maidens of indus- 
trious habit were wont in bygone days, to spread 
their daintily-wrought samplers on the walls of their 
humble dwellings for everybody to see; so Nature 
seems to have laid her mighty handiwork out above 
the waters, as if to show puny human-kind what she 
can do at setting stone. How many ages ago this 
mixture of bits of mica, clusters of gleaming crystals, 




IN TROUBLE 



veins of smooth red porphyry, and slabs of schist, were 
fused together, and moulded into this rugged forma- 
tion, no one will venture to say; but ever since, 
against its gray, sternly-featured face that is set lit- 
erally out to sea, mountains of water have come 
thundering across three thousand miles of blue rest- 
less ocean, — it may be from England's white cliffs, 
— to batter these immense bastions of rock into 
strange freaks of form that are countless in their 
variety. Here are flights of massive stairs that lead 
up from these stone-yards of the sea to the green- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



261 



sward that crowns their domes, or the sparsely-clad 
spruces that reach out over their sloping roofs to 
catch the storm-tossed spray. Precipitous walls 
tower, cathedral-like, as one sails within their shad- 
ows; walls stained with rare colors; their rich, deep- 
toned shades predominating; and looking up at them, 
one thinks himself gazing upon some mighty concep- 
tion of frescoing; and at whose feet, are strewn broken 




A STERNLY-FEATURED FACE 



pillars, and huge cubes of rock ; as if the workmen who 
had wrought ages before in this quarry of Nature, had 
left in a marvellous hurry, so crude are the designs 
traced upon them. But it is only when the storm 
swoops down upon the waste of adjacent waters that 
the workmen return ; when the spray is so dense they 
are hidden from observation. Only their pounding, 
deafening at times, and the trembling of the earth 
under their heavy blows, betray them. It is no 
dwarf, like the 

"Troll who dwelt in Ulshoi hill," 



262 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

and who built Kallundborg Church for Esberne Snare, 
wlio makes the strange sounds among their secret 
fissures and caves; but the surf, that goes chasing in 
and out, all day long, and all night, for that matter. 
Its speech is remarkable for its deep sonorous 
quality, even when the waters wear the glimmer of 
glass, and make one think of Coleridge's "Ancient 
Mariner," with the big ships idly drifting with the 
tide, their wrinkled sails hanging against the blue 
wall of the sky ; for nothing lies between this Poodack 
country and the broad Atlantic. 

There is not a single out-lying rib, rock, bar of 
sand, or island even, to break the monotony of sea 
that seems ever moving bodily landward. But at 
the base of its outermost cliff, the sea sings a wonder- 
ful song when urged by the winds, that one trans- 
poses into Te Deums, Stabat Maters, and Glorias at 
will; forgetting, in the breaking of the long inrolling 
swell, the dash and splatter, the gush, the swirl, and 
confused roar, as of a thousand voices in one, that, 
heard one moment, sounds unlike itself the next; 
the glittering spray, and flashing, sibilant foam; 
the waning, veering, gusty freshening of the winds; 
that this grandly beautiful outlook was once plain 
Pur Poodack Point in the local vocabulary ; forgetting 
too, with all this seething water beneath, that Southey 
ever attempted to translate such sounds, into rhyme, 
as haunt these rocks day and night. 

But all this romance of the sea fades away when 
the afternoon merges into a leaden-hued nightfall; 
and the winds rise higher as the dusk comes on, wet 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 263 

with rain, blowing stiffly in from the southerly quar- 
ter, strengthening into a gale as they reach the land 
to raise clouds of dust along its highwaj's. There 
are a few drops of rain, and the prophecy of the storm 
is spoken. The woods grow darker in the increasing 
wind, and are streaked w^ith silver where the poplar 
leaves are blown up; the swallows have left the 
fields, and the roads are turned into trails of swirling 
dust; for there is not enough rain, as yet, to dampen 
them. The farmer goes to the pasture a bit earlier 
for his herd, noticing on his way, with silent dis- 
content, the falling of the unmatured fruit by the 
roadside, as some impatient gust of wind shakes the 
orchard tree-tops, covering the ground with " wind- 
falls." 

The apples drop upon the stone wall, and bounce 
into the dull-colored dusty highway at their o-\Mier's 
feet; tid-bits for the cattle to gather, one by one, as 
they come up the road, homeward. The solitary 
whistle of a belated plover drops down from some- 
where in the sky, — a tremulous note that sounds 
weird and lonesome enough, with not another bird in 
sight. The dull thunder of the surf, a mile away, 
scarcely noticeable in clear weather, comes distinctly ; 
and has a low, guttural, ominous quality, as of haz- 
ard or threat, in its far-off speech, that makes one 
conscious of impending evil, and the companionship 
of one's kind, a keen enjoyment. The cattle are 
driven up, and everything is made taut and snug 
about the farm buildings for a hloio of two or three 
days. An extra supply of wood is brought from the 



264 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



pile in the dooryanl, to last through the storm; and 
a fire is lighted on the broad hearth for the first time 
in the season ; for a September gale, blowing in over 
the Gulf of Maine, narrowing the fury of the tornado- 
tossed Gulf Stream between Cape Cod and Cape 
Sable, and driving its mountain-high waves with all 
of Nature's wanton strength against this headland, 

with terrific shock, 
and an uproar heard 
above the tmnult of 
the wind and rain, 
a good league away, 
is the event of the 
year. 

I have a vivid 
recollection of a 
great storm that 
years ago swept in 
from the Gulf 
Stream, deluging 
these shores with its immense seas. I recall a low- 
roofed farmhouse on the " shore road," and its glow- 
ing flame in the September night. 

The afternoon had been cold, gray, and threaten- 
ing. The wind had blown in from the sea with a 
low moaning sound since noon, gathering force, as 
dusk came on. The cattle came up the road with 
a strange air of preoccupation, as if the winds had 
been telling them secrets, turning into the yard with 
decorous, obedient step, quite uncommon to them. 
The wind scurried up the road, as it blew over the 




THE LOW-ROOFED FARMHOUSE 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 265 

pastures, fresh from the sea, damp and odorous with 
salty flavor. The doors slammed; the smoke came 
down from the chimney-tops into the dooryard, to 
whirl twice, or thrice, about the huge pile of rifted 
firewood, as if dropping it a hint to keep out of the 
house until the storm was over; winding out over 
the house garden-patch, through the tall old-fash- 
ioned hollyhocks, until the wind caught it beyond 
the shelter of the big barns and spirited it away into 
the woods further inland. 

From the dooryard I could see the black waste of 
the sea, streaked with seething foam; and a constant 
sound, as of distant artillery mingled with the lesser 
roar of innumerable volleys of musketry, came up 
from it. As I watched, the line of breakers seemed 
to grow whiter, broader every moment; and there 
came down the sky, huge drops of rain, as if the 
storm were close upon their heels; but no more than 
these few premonitor}' drops fell. There was no twi- 
light. It was nightfall before one thought of it, as 
if the outdoor curtains had been suddenly drawn; 
for the fire brightened up in a cheery sort of a way, 
and a fresh glow overspread the room. The win- 
dows were but blank spaces in the walls. The burn- 
ing wood between the clumsy iron dogs, askew on the 
scarred, uneven bricks, made lively music; Tind the 
sparks and smoke, went flying and roaring up the 
big flue; as if to remonstrate with the drooping 
branches of the great elm, — the patriarchal tree 
of the farm, — for making such uncanny, creaking 
noises w4th their rubbing up and down the moss- 



2()6 y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

frescoed shingles; but the ancient ehii shook its top 
more uneasily, and swished its branches the more 
recklessly, while the sparks scurried downward to 
the ground, to go out in the wet. The wind, without, 
seemed to have a supernatural freakishness and the 
power of doing a great many things at once. It 
whistled through the tawny foliage of the big elm as 
if a hundred puckered mouths were blowing at the 
same time; it thundered down the great square 
chimney, to fill it with hollow, blustering sound and 
jarring tremor; it played fisticuffs with the seaward 
gables with many a feint, and now, and then, a stout 
blow that made every timber in the house shiver; it 
mopped the windows with the driving rain; and 
ripped the shingles, here and there, from the roof, 
where the old hand-wrought nails had rusted off, 
tearing down the road, to leave them wrecked in the 
apple-tree tops, or in the orchard stubble; it crept 
through the crevices about the shrunken window 
casings, to wander about the old sitting-room in 
draughty gusts, that sent indefinable creepy sensa- 
tions up one's spine; and impelled one to heap the 
already abundantly supplied fire from the stack in. 
the chimney corner; while, over all, sounded the 
surly message of the sea. 

The supper was of hominy, with plenty of cool 
sweet milk, which was set upon the table in a shallow 
ten-quart pan with flaring rim, just as it came from 
its cool shelf in the milk-room. From it, each was 
helped in turn. A bowl of home-made hominy and 
milk, eaten in the light of the roaring fire, was an 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 267 

experience that afforded exquisite enjoyment. The 
cheerful faces that bent over this homely repast lent 
to it a rare, sweet dignity. 

My host had been master of more than one sailing 
vessel in earlier days, and had been nmch among 
the Bermudas, and up and down the Gulf Stream; 
but, after so much of sea-faring life, he had returned 
to the acres of his ancestors to haul kelp and sea- 
weed from the kelp-cove that belonged to the old 
farm, and to plant its fields after the fashion of his 
forefathers. It was a good old name that never was 
stained with dishonor, and that had stood well with 
every tax collector since the time provincial dues 
were collected in these parts. 

Nature finds many a heart in sympathy with her- 
self, appealing to humanity in one guise and another; 
subjecting men to her moods unconsciously; setting 
their brains agog with strange fantasies, and micanny 
imaginations, — thoughts that belong to far-off days 
and have no reference to, or influence upon, one's 
present existence. My host, like his cattle, wore a pre- 
occupied, or ruminant, air, as if something of unusual 
gravity were about to happen. With every gust of 
wind, and dash of rain, and the dismal noises that 
accompanied them, he seemed only the more alert, 
with just a shade of added anxiety clouding his 
rugged face. The table, quickly cleared of its rem- 
nant of repast, was neatly spread with its cover of 
faded red cloth, and strewn with the few books and 
papers which had a temporary attraction for the 
household, keeping company with the two or three 



268 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

brightly-burning candles, that helped the flashing 
firelight to illumine the room quite sufhciently. Peo- 
ple did not expect much in those days of high prices, 
and self-denial, and Rebellion, of the early sixties. 

The conversation turned upon ghosts and spiritual 
manifestations, my host saying he could never under- 
stand why such things were always the longest to 
linger in the mind, forcing themselves upon one, 
routing and driving before them all previous thought, 
filling one's brain, oftentimes, with a queer tinge of 
apprehension, in spite of good sense and precedent, 
and most of all, in the face of intelhgent reasoning. 

My host continued the subject, by saying, and I 
will not attempt to convey the quaintness of his 
speech, — • " I have thought folk in the days of witch- 
craft might have been half-right, for all of my ortho- 
dox bringing-up ; as some I have known before this, 
have seemed to be on calling terms with the Devil, if 
not in actual business with him. There is no need 
of their riding about on broom-sticks after the 
fashion of Goody Cole, either ; for there are nowa- 
days, witches enough, and devils enough, in the flesh. 

"But sailors are the worst folk for superstitions," 
and my host laughed, heartily, to as quickly lapse 
into sobriety, as he went on with his half-soliloquy. 

" I have seen the day when a Mother Carey's chicken 
aloft in the ship's rigging, would have set my heart 
thumping like a drum-beat. I am well over that ; 
but a storm like this, brings cries for help, and the 
sound of a ship going to pieces on the rocks. When 
the winds are thick and heavy with ram, the breakers 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



260 



dance in my eyes ; and a ship at sea, the low heavy 
boom of a gun, and the graveyard up yonder on the 
hill, get strangely mixed up in my dreams. I never 
see these things when the sky is clear, and the wind 




ON THE ROCKS 



is offshore, though I always accomit for it, in one 
way or another. I believe somewhat in fore-warn- 
ings. My father did before me. It runs in the 
family. He was a sea-going man, as were all his 
children ; and it was natural that they should inherit 
some of his ideas. Folk laugh at their neighbors 



270 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

who believe in signs, dreams, and fore-warnings, but 
I never do. I tell such they do not know what they 
are laughing at." 

Here my host stopped to nod his head twice or 
thrice at the fire, that seemed to burn the more 
brightly because he noticed it so much. 

The wind and rain vied, each with the other, in 
keeping up a continual disturbance out of doors; 
and the latter ran down the window-panes in broad, 
wavy streams, as if poured from a bucket. Now 
and then, a wet gust would strike the house, broad- 
side, and the big drops would spatter over the inner 
window-sill. The seal of silence had fallen upon the 
room, unless the lazy tick of the little peaked-roofed 
Connecticut clock on the end of the fireplace mantel 
might be heard above the storm. Each seemed to 
be listening to the tumult of the elements, or in- 
dividually thoughtful, except the housewife, whose 
knitting-needles kept up a flirtation with the blazing 
fore-stick, flashing brightly in the firelight as they 
clicked together in a brisk sort of a way. 

" I suppose," said my host, beginning again, " there 
are as many addled folks nowadays as ever. Most 
everyboddy has some sort of a maggot in his head; 
I've one in mine I guess, for I've seen a ship driving 
onto the beach beyond the kelp-cove since the wind 
began to blow in from the sea. It's only an idea, 
mebbe, but it sticks like a beggar's-tick. 

"By the way," turning to speak to me after he 
had poked the fire well together, " did you ever hear 
the story of Parson Burroughs who preached in these 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 271 

parts before Castine came with his Penobscot Indians 
to burn what there was left of the Neck settlement, 
— Burroughs was hanged at Salem on account of 
Mary Wolcott? 

" Speaking of folks getting maggots in their heads, 
puts me in mind of it. I calculate it might have been 
just such a night as this, the sheriff took the parson 
to Salem. AVhen he got to Portsmouth, he told them 
there w^as a horde of devils at his back the whole 
way." 

"A race,'' I suggested, "that would put Tarn 
o' Shanter's, with all the devils of Alloway Kirk after 
him, out of sight." 

I was familiar with most that had been written of 
the witchcraft days of Salem. I had read of the 
execution of Margaret Jones of Charlestown in 1648, 
suspected of having and using the "malignant 
touch," a persecution that dogged the footsteps of 
the old herb-women and the neighborhood crones, 
the climax of which came to Salem village when 
good old Rebecca Nurse was hung on Witches' Hill, 
and dumped at the foot of its gallows. I had heard 
of old Goody Proctor and her str.uige doings; of pots 
jumping from their cranes; of hayracks tipped bottom- 
side up in the narrow barn floors, with their bulky 
loads beneath; of all the castaway boots and shoes 
in the farmhouse garret being thrown to the foot of 
its stairs at midnight by invisible hands ; and of hay- 
cocks hanging in the orchard tree-tops; and all on 
the self-same farm where I lived as a boy; for there 
was a haunted cellar on the hill-top to lend the old 



272 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

place somewhat of distinction. The story of Abigail 
Hobbs, who saw the devil's sacrament administered, 
was not a new one. I had seen hardly more than 
a mention of Parson Burroughs. 

The children put aside their books and papers and 
drew nearer the fire, as if the coming tale w^ere a new 
one to them, while the story-teller, settling comfort- 
ably into his broad-armed, high-backed rocker, began 
a tale so old, and of times so far away, that it needed 
the setting of just such a wild, boisterous night as 
this, with its dismal storm, to lend it the semblance 
of reality. The knitting-needles stopped their click- 
ing; the knitter rolled her ball of stout homespun 
yarn and the half-completed stocking together, and 
putting them in the little basket on the table, pre- 
pared to listen anew to this story of the old provincial 
days, when, — 

O'er the Witch-trott road to Portsmouth, 

Past its salt creeks winding down, 
Out through Hampton's sea-bleached meadows, 

Burroughs went to Salem town. 

These preliminaries ended with the story-teller put- 
ting a bit of Virginia leaf somewhere within the hid- 
den recesses of his right cheek, as if he might extract 
some inspiration from it after the fashion of De 
Quincey, an incident that raised my expectancy to 
a higher pitch, to which my host referred as the 
only habit that had followed him home from the 
sea. 

" In early Pur-poodack days, houses were as ' scarce 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 273 

as hen's teeth,' — as my mother used to say before we 
laid her away in the hill burying-groiind where she 
might be always in sight of the sea, for she had one 
boy somewhere in its blue waters. A single road 
stretched the length of the Neck settlement over which 
folk travelled to southward. It began at the foot 
of a rough road that ran down from the Casco Neck 
uplands to the shore, and was known as old King 
Street. Folk crossed the river to the Cape by a 






♦ ' /^ //^^^ vO--' (''7 "y/^^/ 









■^^J^-i 






iM^-^^^^^^ 



ALEWIVE BROOK 



ferry-boat, a flat-bottomed craft that set sail when 
the wind served; and at other times the ferry-man 
rowed them over. The trail crept round the Cape 
shore, and across Alewdve Brook to Spurwink Creek, 
that twists like a blue ravelling of yarn through thou- 
sands of acres of salt marsh whenever the tide is in ; 
and here, when the tide was well out, one could cross 
to follow the shore to Piscataqua. Across the Pis- 
cataqua was old Portsmouth, and from that place to 
Salem and Boston, the way was more convenient. 



274 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

That was the way the Parson came from Salem to 
preach at the Neck settlement. He was a little man 
with bushy, black eyebrows, and powerful strong in 
his arms. While he lived at Wells, the folks in Salem 
were beginning to hang their neighbors; and it is not 
singular either, that folks should have got a grudge 
against him and called him a wizard, to pay off old 
scores; but every man has his enemies. It was not 
singular, the children should make fools of them- 
selves when the old folks set them up to it, as 
they did Mary Wolcott; when such a paper could be 
made by the court" — the story-teller here arose, 
and going to the little unpainted shelf at one corner 
of the room, took from it an old volume bound in 
black-looking sheep, and turning its stained pages 
toward the fire as if in search of something, ending 
his sentence, — "as this." 

"I bought that at a vendue some years ago, on 
one of my sailing trips into Salem. I always had a 
curiosity to see the hill where so many folks were 
trundled in a cart to be murdered. A barren place 
enough, it was then, with nothing to shelter it from 
the sea winds, and maybe it is now, for all I know. 
Standing there in the sunshine is well enough, but 
after nightfall, I should steer my craft clear of such a 
ghostly old place. Never fancied being rountl dead 
folks, anyhow. It isn't healthy-like; they come up 
in your face in the dark. It's a hard-looking volume, 
— pretty old I imagine, — but the auctioneer said it 
was full of witchcraft, and knocked it off to me for 
two and six. There," — said the old man, handing me 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BA Y 275 

the book, — "is the charge against the parson, — 
you'll enjoy the okl-fashioned print; the firelight is 
not strong enough for my eyes." 

" Aiino Regis et Regince, etc., quarto." 
Essex, ss: The Jurors of our Sovereign Lord and Lady, 
the King and Queen, present, that George Burroughs, late of 
Falmouth in the Province of Massachusetts Bay, the ninth day 
of May in the fourth year of the reign of our Sovereign Lord 
and Lady, WilUam and Mary, by the Grace of God, of England, 
Scotland, France, and L-eland, King and Queen, defenders 
of the faith, etc., and divers other days and times as well 
before as after, certain detestable acts, called witchcraft and 
sorceries, wickedly and feloniously hath used, practiced and 
exercised at and within the town of Salem in the County of 
Essex aforesaid, in, upon, and against Mary Walcott, of 
Salem village in the County of Essex, singlewoman; by the 
which said wicked acts the said Mary Wolcott, the ninth 
day of May in the fourth year aforesaid, and divers other 
days and times, as well before as after, was and is tortured, 
afflicted, pined, consumed, wasted, and tormented, against 
the peace of our Sovereign Lord and Lady, the King and 
Queen, and against the force of the statute in that case made 
and provided." 

I had little difficulty in reading the indictment by 
the flickering light of the hearth-fire, for the letters 
stood out clearly on their leaf of old-fashioned, blu- 
ish, milled paper, so black were they, and so sharply 
outlined was the type from which the book was 
printed. The book was a quaint thing; and had on 
its red-lettered title-page, a cut of an old hag astride 
her broomstick, with the new moon over her shoulder; 
which, with its antiquity, made my host's story, — 



276 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

A story laid in far-off clays, 

When Sewall sat in wig and gown 
To judge the devil's protegees, — 

Quaker, and witch, in Salem town, 

By burly Stoughton exorcised 

With hangman's scaffold; ill-devised 
Provincial edict; dearth of common sense; 
Law-sanctioned crime and wickedness prepense, — 

the more interesting. 

It was not singular, with so formidable a docu- 
ment, couched in such stately, teclinical phraseol- 
ogy; charging such abominable practices and bear- 
ng the seal of an august tribunal, a Colonial court, 
that the people should have regarded the same with 
somewhat of awe and respect; for it was Jiistice 
Sewall's teste, no doubt, that gave to it its legal sig- 
nificance; or, that they sanctioned all its ignorance 
and wickedness with orderly sobriety and a churchly 
zeal, — that to-day seems pitiable if not criminal in 
its unreason, — especially when tales were told as 
truthful, like that of Mary Osgood's, afterwards re- 
lated by her in this court, how she was carried through 
the air with Deacon Frye's wife, Ebenezer Baker's 
wife, and Goody Cole to a pond, where the devil bap- 
tized her, dipped her face in the water and made her 
renounce her former covenant with the church, 
claiming her soul and body forever; and that she 
was brought back through the air on a pole. It was 
not incredible that people believed whatever might 
be said against the best known and most upright of 
their neighbors, if there was anything of the marvel- 
lous quality to it. As for that matter, there are 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 277 

plenty of credulous people in these times, whose eyes 
and ears are always open to anything they may hear, 
and whose tongues wag, — but here my speculations 
were interrupted. 

" It was in the mid-summer of 1690. I have always 
heard it was Sunday. The old town has perked up 
so much with its ??eu'-fangled ways and its stranger- 
folk coming in summer to get a sniff of salt and a bit 
of tan in their faces, I don't think it would know 
itself in its homespun clothes, even on Sunday, with 
no one stirring about, its old-fashioned sunshine laying 
across the fields that are wader than they used to be. 
Wells is drowsy enough on w^eek-days, you'll say, if 
you have ever been there; but on Sundays, the place 
is fairly asleep. The sunmier folk like it, no doubt. 
All thej^ do is to appear out in a new rig every 
day, which is nonsensical, if they can afford it; for 
there's enough poor folk as would be glad of the cost 
of a dress to help along. Folks, as have plenty, do not 
fret much about their neighbors. It's human nature. 

" The history of George Burroughs begins for us, wdth 
his graduation from Harvard, in the class of 1670. 
Very soon after that he went to Casco, later known as 
Falmouth, in the Province of Maine, and which com- 
prised a W'ide area of the surrounding comitry. In 
fact, it compassed about all the settlements east of 
the Saco, and south of Merrymeeting Bay. It was, 
however, at Casco Neck, to be accurate, that he un- 
dertook his life-work, the carrying the Gospel to all 
men. At Casco, he received a grant of land of one 
hundred and fiftv acres. It is evident that he was 



278 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



a domestic man in his tastes and inclinations, for he 
was early married, and early widowed, as well. Bur- 
roughs was of the rugged type of the times. He was 
a man of great strength, as were most of the early 
settlers and their descendants, where temperate hab- 
its, and healthy environments prevailed. He was of 

a saturnine cast of feature, 
and of swarthy complexion; 
of good height, and broadly 
proportioned; nor was it any 
wonder he could do those 
feats of strength which were 
charged to the account of 
Satan. Burroughs was a 
man of much stability, men- 
tally. His judgment was 
fortified by a liberal educa- 







A BIT OF SCARBOROUGH 



tion, the best the times afforded; and like all Harvard 
men, he assumed to sway men, and to direct the order 
of their going, as has been the fashion of the Harvard 
Churchman since the beginning; and perhaps, his 
fault was, that he did not exercise sufficient tact. 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 279 

Some local historians have set Burroughs out as a 
bad man, and without a particle of evidence. He 
was diligent in the service of the church; he under- 
went, with others, the hardships of the times; he 
conducted religious services at the garrisons, isolated, 
and far apart ; he ran the same risks of personal dan- 
ger; and there is no evidence that he ever shirked a 
duty, or ever ran away from an obligation. He was 
a good Indian-fighter; and his metal was tried at 
more than one garrison in old Scarborough. It does 
not appear that he was lax in his morals, after the 
fashion of the earlier preachers of this section. He 
was not greedy; but he was otherwise, as is evidenced 
by his returning to the donor town the large acreage 
of lands given to him, and which to-day lie almost in 
the heart of the beautiful city, the Mecca of the sum- 
mer tourist to ]\Iaine; and which, from its twin hills, 
looks out, east and WTst, over ever-widening perspec- 
tives of sea and shore, of classic, romantic, and leg- 
endary charm. There was no reason why Burroughs 
should have left Casco, except that there was greater 
need of missionary work out Scarborough way. He 
was, according to all accounts, a man of personal 
resource, with ideas of his own. The times were 
turbulent. The settler was of crude and credulous 
intellectual capacity. Strifes were easily fomented 
and carried on; nor was Burroughs the only one of 
the cloth who had difficulty with his parish. It was 
the complaint of the times; and it was so common, 
that wherever there was preaching, there w^as dis- 
sension among the lay portion. 



280 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"About the time of Burroughs' graduation, a 
church had been organized at Danvers, old Salem 
Village, and a Mr, Bayley assumed the pastorate. 
The usual dissatisfaction began in a small way, and 
widened, until the General Court was called upon to 
interfere in the support of the pastor; but even that 
was of little avail. The new parish would neither 
fiddle nor dance to the Bayley music. The order of 
the General Court was openly contemned. Fmids, 
food, and fuel, were woefully lacking; and the parson 
from Newl^ury cried quits, and retired from the Dan- 
vers field. 

" It was into this parish of Danvers, where spiritual 
turmoil and party animosity were rife, that Bur- 
roughs came. If Preacher Bayley went out the back- 
door, the parson from Casco may be said to have 
stepped upon the former's shadow as he came in at 
the front. Burroughs could not have been unaware 
of the dissension that compelled the retirement of 
Preacher Bayley; and it may be, that he took the 
reins with a firm hand. Be that as it may, he soon 
found that the Danvers soil was still affording lodge- 
ment for abundant tares; and, notwithstanding his 
urgent ministrations, for he was a man, instant, in 
season, and out of season, he soon was given op- 
portunity to feel the Danvers spiritual pulse under its 
most feverish aspects. He hammered at this per- 
verse and untoward metal for a year; but dogma or 
homiletic availed little. They were laggard with 
their tithes, and there were times when Burroughs 
was actually in want. He kept to his task among 



y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 281 

this obdurate people for two years; and finally left 
the pastorate; but not before his wife had been car- 
ried into the Danvers burial-ground, whose funeral 
charges her husband was unable to pay for lack of 
money. 

"Among the funeral charges were two gallons of 
Canary rum bought of one Putnam, The debt was 
about fourteen pounds. At that time the parish was 
indebted to its pastor in the sum of thirty-three 
pounds, odd; and for this debt to Putnam, Burroughs 
had drawn upon the parish in Putnam's favor to pay 
the Putnam claim. After throwing up the Danvers 
parish, and adjusting his debts, Burroughs came back 
to Casco. This Danvers parish, by the way, was the 
same into which the Rev. Samuel Parris was inducted 
seven years later, occupying the Bayley-Burroughs 
parsonage, and whose voluminous notes of the evi- 
dence in the witchcraft trials, taken by order of 
Hathorn, make up the records of the numerous cases 
of wizardry of which that of Burroughs was a fair 
exponent. 

" Upon Burroughs' arrival at Casco, he had the con- 
stable at his heels. Putnam, notwithstanding the 
order upon the Danvers parish, which he had re- 
ceived from Burroughs, had pursued him hither, evi- 
dently with no other purpose than to expend upon 
the preacher the venom of the disaffected portion of 
his former parish. It was a fair sample of the Chris- 
tian charity of the times; and is not a far remove 
from some of the springs of modern church turmoils. 
I can think of no better name for such disaffections. 



282 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

It is almost beyond belief, that the doings of 
the early courts, and the clergy that made up their 
most potent support, could have been realities. 
There is no doubt, but the existence of the laws 
against Quakers, heretics, and witches, gave lever- 
age for the visiting upon many a goodman, and 
his goodwife, the petty animosities and jealousies, 
that, even nowadays, set whole neighl^orhoods by the 
ears. 

"After this, Burroughs wrought in the rough vine- 
yard of Casco until around 1688, when he went to 
Wells, where he preached acceptably, and became an 
active man in that sparse settlement. Old Wells 
was a settlement of garrisons at the time; of which, 
perhaps, Storer's may be regarded the chiefest, in 
local importance. It was here, principally, that Bur- 
roughs officiated; for the savages were abroad; and 
conditions were perilous in the extreme. There was 
no safety for anyone outside the garrison walls; and 
it was within these havens of security that, in those 
immediate days, most religious observances were held. 
It has been said by an annalist of the times, that 
Wells was better supplied with garrisons than any 
of her sister settlements. Whether or not this be true, 
it is certain that Wells stood the brunt of the frontier 
savagery marvellously well. 

"On the twenty-first day of July, 1691, a despatch 
was sent to Boston, to which George Burroughs' sig- 
nature was attached second on the list of signers — 
Francis Littlefield's being the first. On Sept. 28, 
the same year, the following despatch was sent: 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 283 

" ' To the Honored Governor and Council: 

" 'Whereas it hath pleased God (both formerly and 
now) to let loose the heathen upon us by holden us 
off from our improvements, keeping us in close garri- 
son, and daily lying in wait to take any that go forth, 
whereby we are brought very low, not all the corn 
raised in the town is judged enough to keep the in- 
habitants themselves one-half year, and our stocks 
both of cattle and swine are very much diminished. 

" ' We therefore humbly request your honors to con- 
tinue soldiers among us and appoint a commander 
over them, and what number shall be judged meet to 
remain with us for winter that provisions, corn and 
clothing suitable for them may be seasonably sent, 
also one hogshead of salt, all ours being spent; also a 
present supply in that what was sent before is almost 
gone. We had a youth seventeen years of age last 
Saturday carried away, who went not above gun-shot 
from Lieut. Storer's garrison to fetch a little wood in 
his arms. We have desired our loving friends, Capt. 
John Littlefield and Ensign John Hill, to present this 
to your honors, who can give a further account of 
our condition. We subscribe, — ' 

"This despatch is headed by Burroughs. Among 
other signatures are those of the two Wheelrights, 
and Joseph Storer. This evidences the whereabout 
of George Burroughs, on that far-off summer of 1691. 
He seems to be given something of precedence in 
this most pressing affair of the need of the Storer 
garrison. Sullivan gives Burroughs a poor character, 
but from all that is left of the meagre detail of his 



284 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

life, and of which the largest part is given to the 
proceedings at Salem, such a conclusion must be 
conjectural. 

"At the time of the accusation against him of 
witchcraft, Burroughs had a third wife. In the in- 
dictment, one notes Burroughs was described as of 
Falmouth. At the time of his arrest he was in Wells, 
at Storer's garrison, and York was the proper venue 
for his trial; but as Bourne says: 'the offense might 
be regarded as committed in Salem, because the 
spectre of the witch was there, and also the person 
injured,' — or, in other words, the act was done in 
Salem. There was apparently little law in the mat- 
ter, and still less gospel. According to the writer 
last quoted. Burroughs had strong friends; one of 
whom remarked: 'I believe he is a choice child of 
God!' An emphatic testimony, to be sure. 

"The date of his arrest does not appear; but the 
warrant was issued about the last day of April, 1692, 
by Elisha Hutchinson, 'major,' at Portsmouth. It 
was directed to Jno Partridge, 'field marshall of the 
provinces of Maine and New Hampshire,' command- 
ing him to ' apprehend the body of George Burroughs, 
at present, preacher at Wells in the province of Maine, 
and convey him with all speed to Salem.' The re- 
turn on the warrant was, that the officer ' had ap- 
prehended the said George Burroughs and have him 
brought to Salem and delivered him to the authority 
there this fourth day of May, 1692.' 

"Burroughs was probably at the Storer garrison 
when arrested. Thev blew the horn in those days 



F^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 285 

to call the people to meeting; and it was a good old- 
fashioned forenoon and afternoon preaching, — the 
session lasting three hours, with an 'early candle- 
light' at the end of it. Folk did not mind the rude 
seats, for it did not cost much to go to meeting in 
those days; and the preacher was always paid with a 
bag of wheat, or corn, or a bundle of woolen rolls. 
It is all different nowadays; for, the more folk pay 
their minister, the less preaching they get. Good old 
times, when the women went to one side, and the 
men to the other, and the preacher expoimded the 
AVord, and at the same time watched the clearing 
for Indian signs, as his own folk for signs of the devil 
inside; for every man carried his musket to church, 
as he did his conscience. 

"The horn had blown its summons that morning 
from Storer's for the folk to attend church service. 
Everybody attended. There were distinguished vis- 
itors present. The Provincial marshal had come 
from Portsmouth with his deputies. They were after 
Burroughs. Partridge read his warrant, but Bur- 
roughs did not know much about Salem witches, or 
Salem juries, either. He did not know what queer 
verdicts twelve men could find in a jury-room, and 
he went along, willingly enough. 

"I had a lawing once, and I have my opinion of 
juries. I have drawn them out of the jury-box, and 
it is mighty poor timber they build them out of, some- 
times. Great deal of shaky hemlock in the panel. 
Burroughs' sermon that morning was a short one, for 
they were at once on the road to Salem, hoping to 



286 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



roach Portsmouth early in the evening, even then 
afl'righted with their thoughts of Indians, witches and 
ghosts. Without this, considering the facilities for 







FROM WELLS TO YORK 



travel in those days, the execution of the precept 
was reasonably swift; and there may have been some 
truth in the tradition extant of the happenings upon 
their journey Salem-ward. Thoroughly saturated 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 287 

with the heresy of witchcraft, their terror was made 
more emphatical by tlie actual perils which beset 
them. They followed the seashore along Hart's 
Sands to York; and from thence, they struck inland, 
to cross the river at Quamphegan. ^^'ild imaginings 
played riot in their minds as they went; and the 
eerie tales of those Salem chits were freshened and 
reenforced as the glooms of the Newichawannock 
woods deepened about them. 

"The stumps in the pastures by the way, were 
bogies or ghosts. The skies reeked with ominous 
signs. Partridge and his squad were in mortal fear 
of Burroughs, who was reputed to have sold himself 
to the devil; which is not so surprising, when one re- 
members even the judges were so scared that a few 
months after, they hanged poor old Rebecca Nurse 
after the jury had acquitted her. It was a time 
when folk went on a mad hunt for trouble. Every 
happening about the house had its occult meaning. 
The church-yard was not considered a healthy place 
for folk after night set in; and a ride through a strip 
of strange woods when ghosts might be abroad, took 
a sight of backbone, — more than most folk had in 
those times, — when the winds turned the leaves of 
the trees into wizard foot-falls; and the creaking of 
their interlaced branches were witch jabberings; and 
the bent gray birches a crowd of sheeted grave- 
sleepers, leering and grinning over the fences; and the 
silences of the night were pulsing with hideous things 
and hideous sounds. I have heard that the cellar of 
the old Samuel Parris house may still be seen; that 



288 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

was where the black Tituba from the Barbadoes, 
trained eight girl-simpletons into witch-finders. They 
were so smart at the business, that they had only to 
point a single finger at a poor old woman who had a 
stoop in her shoulders, a hook-nose and a wrinkled 
face, and she was as good as hung. The girls were 
taken to Andover to hunt witches; and with such 
effect, it was commonly reported that, ' forty men of 
Andover could raise the devil as well as any astrol- 
oger.' 

" But the officers kept to their journey, and as they 
went, their wits oozed out their pores. Witches flew 
through the air, and ghosts arose out of the bushes. 
Strange and unaccountable whisperings kept pace with 
their horses, evil spirits communing with the cul- 
prit preacher, whose sober and undisturbed demeanor 
was suggestive of grave and devilish machinations. 
Night set in quickly, as if a black pall had been let 
down from the sky. It was a storm-cloud, that a 
moment later burst with tempestuous fury upon them. 
The lightning flared, and flapped its pale wings in 
their faces, until one bolt, more potent than all the 
others, smote a huge pine over their heads. Along 
with the fragments of the thunderous peal that fol- 
lowed, came the debris of the tree-top, crashing at 
the heels of their horses. Horses never flew like those 
of the Portsmouth sheriff. Burroughs had wrought 
a direful spell, and the friends of Satan had them all 
in their grip. They kept no more to the solid ground, 
but skimmed the roads like a troop of swallows scour- 
ing the fields before the coming rain. It was a wild 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



289 



ride, equalled only by that of Ichabod Crane and the 
Headless Horseman. But they got over the Piscat- 
aqua safely, and were only able to quiet their nerves 




THE WITCHTROTT 



under the eaves of the tavern at Portsmouth. From 
thence to Salem, the ride was uneventful. 

" To this day, the road through the shadows of these 
old Berwick woods has been dubbed, the Witchtrott. 



290 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

Not then had Burns, the Commoner 

Of Doon and Ayr, — "and a' that," — 
Sung to the world in braw Scotch verse, 

"A mon 's a mon, for a' that." 
But Burroughs knew the truth, as well. 

That simple living teaches. 
That manhood is not always found 

In laced coats, wigs and breeches. 

Not then the old North Church had hung 

Its lanterns, redly gleaming, 
Into the night, from belfry-tower. 

To wake folk from their dreaming, 
With clattering midnight hoofs, and shout 

Of hurried hoarse-voiced warning, — 
"Daybreak, the British march this way!" 

No news for idle scorning. 

Not then the Concord men had fought. 

Nor made of roadside fences 
And lichened walls, their ambuscades, 

The uncondoned offences 
That taught the world a lesson, grim. 

With Yorktown for its object. 
The "divine right of kings" alike 

Is vested in the subject. 

"And yet, as one recalls the environment of these 
people, what could one look for, other than what oc- 
curred? It afforded a most natural soil for the de- 
lusions that were abated none too soon. It was a 
leafless hedgerow that led to Peter's Gate. 

"May 9th, Burroughs was brought up for exami- 
nation at Beadle's Tavern. Stoughton and Sewall 
came out of Boston to lend countenance to so im- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



291 



portant a case. This was in the nature of a private 
enquiry by the adjacent clergy. Here is a part of 
the Star Chamber examination: 

" ' Being asked when he partook of the Lord's Sup- 
per, he being (as he said) in full communion at Rox- 
bury, he answered it was so long since he could not 
tell, yet he owned he was at meeting one Sabbath at 




BEADLE'S TAVERN 



Boston, part of the day, and the other at Charlestown 
part of a Sabbath, when the sacrament happened to 
be at both, yet did not partake of either. He denied 
that his house at Casco was haunted, yet he owned 
there were toads. The above was in private, none 
of the bewitched being present.' 

"This preliminary hearing being concluded, pro- 
ceedings in open court were begun, and one can im- 
agine the crowd agape, half with wonderment, and the 



292 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

rest onlooking with ill-concealed unrest. What a 
nudging of elbows, grimaces, shifting of feet, and 
uneasy and apprehensive posturings, must have con- 
fronted the grave judges, who, under the English 
law, which deprived the accused of the right of coun- 
sel, were supposed to maintain all reasonable bar- 
riers against the prisoner's accusers! 

" But follow the record : 

"'At his entry into the court room many (if not 
all of the bewitched) were grievously tortured. Sarah 
Sheldon testified that Burroughs' two wives appeared 
in their winding sheets and said that man killed her. 

"'He was bid to look upon Sheldon. He looked 
back and knocked down all (or most of the afflicted 
who stood behind him). 

"'Mary Lewis' deposition going to be read and he 
looked at her and she fell into a dreadful and tedious 
fit. 

Mary Walcott Testimony going to be 

Elizabeth Hubbard Read and they fell 

Susan Shildon Into fits. 

"'Being asked what he thought of these things he 
answered it was an amazing and humiliating provi- 
dence but he understood nothing of it, and he said 
(some of you may observe that) when they begin to 
name any name they cannot name it. 

" ' The bewitched were so tortured that authority 
ordered them to be taken away some of them. 

"'Capt. Putnam testified about the gun, Capt. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 293 

Wormwood testified about the gun and about the 
mohisses. 

'"He (Burroughs) denied that about the molasses. 
About the gun he said he took it before the lock and 
rested it upon his breast. 

" ' John Brown testified about a barrel of cider. He 
denied that his family was affrighted by a white calf 
in his house.' 

•'This reference to the record throws a side-light 
upon the bias, or mental leanings of the Court. As 
ridiculous as seem these stories, for they were not 
evidence, their result was to cause the remanding of 
Burroughs to the Salem Gaol, where he remained un- 
til August; when he came up for trial on the indict- 
ments, which, in the meantime had been drawn, to 
the number of four, of which one is given to the 
reader. Ann Putnam and Sarah Osgood seem to have 
been the most lucid and prolific in their imaginings, 
as their depositions indicate. Ann said, — and by 
the way it was Putnam who some ten years before 
had followed Burroughs with legal process into Fal- 
mouth, and perhaps it was directly chargeable to 
Thomas Putnam that a girl of around twelve years 
of age should be able to relate such a tale as is re- 
corded by Parris, — that Burroughs' two first wives 
had appeared to her and had told her that they had 
been bewitched to death by hhn. 'One told me,' 
she deposed, 'she was his first wife and he stabbed 
her under the left arm and put a piece of sealing-wax 
on the wound, and she pulled aside the winding-sheet 
and showed me the place.' Also, 'the wife which he 



294 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

hath now, killed her in the vessel as she was coming 
to see his friends, ' — the revelation of the second wife. 

"To quote a recent writer: 

"'Simon Willard testified to being in Falmouth, 
Me., in September, 1689, when some one was 

"■ ' Commending Mr. Burroughs, his strength, saying 
that he could hold out his gun with one hand. Mr. 
Burroughs being there said, I held my hand here be- 
hind the lock and took it up and held it out. I, said 
deponent, saw Mr. Burroughs put his hand on the 
gun, to show us how he held it and where he held his 
hand, and saying there he held his hand when he 
held his gun out; but I saw him not hold it out then. 
Said gun was about seven-foot barrel and very heavy. 
I then tried to hold out said gun with both hands, but 
could not do it long enough to take sight.' 

" ' Willard also deposed that when he was in garri- 
son at Saco some one in speaking of Burroughs's 
great strength said he could take a barrel out of a 
canoe and carry it and set on the shore, and Bur- 
roughs said he had carried a barrel of molasses or 
cider and that it had like to have done him a dis- 
pleasure, so he intimated that he did not want strength 
to do it, but the disadvantage of the shore was such 
that his foot slipping in the sand he had liked to have 
strained his leg.' Benjamin Hutchinson testified that 
he met Abigail Williams one day about eleven o'clock 
in the forenoon, in Salem Village. Burroughs was 
then in Maine, a hundred miles away. She told him 
she then saw Burroughs. Hutchinson asked where. 
She answered, 'There,' and pointed to a rut in the road. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 295 

Hutchinson threw an iron fork towards the place where 
she said she saw Burroughs. WilHams fell into a fit. 

" Coming out she said, ' You have torn his coat for 
I heard it tear.' 'Whereabouts?' said I. 'On one 
side,' said she. Then we went to the house of Lieu- 
tenant Ingersoll, and I went into a great room and 
Abigail came in and said, 'There he stands.' I said, 
' Where? where? ' and presently drew my rapier. Then 
Abigail said 'He is gone, but there is a gray cat.' 
Then I said ' Whereabouts?' ' There,' said she, ' there.' 
Then I struck with my rapier and she fell into a fit; 
and when it was over she said, 'You killed her.' 

" ' Hutchinson said he could not see the cat, where- 
upon Williams informed his credulous soul that the 
spectre of Sarah Good had come in and carried away 
the dead animal.' 

" These affairs, be it remembered, occurred in broad 
daylight. Deliverance Hobbs, called as a witness in 
the case, protested her innocence. Subsequently she 
was examined in prison and confessed that she was a 
witch. She had attended a meeting of witches where 
Burroughs was preacher, and 

" ' Pressed them to bewitch all in the Village. He 
administered the sacrament to them with red bread 
and red wine like blood. . . . Her daughter Abagail 
Hobbs, being brought in at the same time, while her 
mother was present, was immediately taken with a 
dreadful fit ; and her mother being asked who it was 
that hurt her daughter, answered it was Goodman 
Corey, and she saw him and the gentlewoman of Bos- 
ton striving to break her daughter's neck.' " 



206 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

'' The same annalist says: 

" ' I quote at this point a deposition exactly as I find 
it on the files, without the change of a letter or a 
punctuation mark. 

"'The complaint of Sanmel Sheldon against Mr. 
Burroughs which brought a book to mee and told mee 
if i would not set my hand too it hee would tear me 
to peesses i told him i would not then he told mee 
hee would Starve me to death then the next morning 
hee tould me hee could not starve mee to death but 
hee would choake mee so that my vittals should doe 
me but litl good then he tould mee his name was 
borros which had preached at the vilage the last 
night hee came to mee and asked mee whither i 
would goe to the village to-morrow to witness against 
him i asked him if he was examined then he told mee 
hee was then i told him i would goe then hee told 
mee hee would kil mee before morning then hee ap- 
peared to mee at the hous of nathanniel ingolson and 
told mee hee had been the death of three children 
at the eastward and had kiled two of his wifes the 
first he smothered and the second he choaked and 
killed two of his own children.' 

"Ann Putnam, it will be remembered, told an en- 
tirely different story about the way in which Bur- 
roughs 'killed his two first wives,' and she, too, 
claimed to have the story directly from the appari- 
tions of those wives. 

"A jury of seven appointed to search the body of 
Mr. Burroughs for witch marks reported that they 
found nothing but what was natural. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



297 



"George Herrick testified that in May he went to 
the jail and searched the 
body of Jacobs. He 
found a tett under the 
right shoulder a quarter 
of an inch long. He ran 
a pin through it, but 
' there was neither water, 
blood, nor corruption, nor 
any other matter, and so 
we make return.' The 
following document is 
also among the papers: 

" ' wee whose names are 
under written ha^dng re- 
ceived an order from ye 
sreife to search ye bodyes 
of George Burroughs and 
George Jacobs wee find 
nothing upon ye body of 
ye above sayd Burroughs 
but wt is naturall but 
upon ye body of George 
Jacobs wee find 3 tetts 
wch according to ye best 
of our judgements wee 
think is not naturall for 
wee rmi a pinn through 
2 of ym and he was not 

sincible of it one of them being within his mouth 
upon ye inside of his right cheak and 2d upon 




A CORNER OF SALEM 



298 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

his right shoulder blade and a 3d upon his right 
hipp. 

Ed Welch sworne John Flint jurat 

Will Gill sworne Tom West sworne 

Zeb Gill jurat Sam Morgan sworne 

John Bare jurat.' 

"Burroughs w^as convicted, however, and on the 
19th of August hanged on Gallows Hill, Salem." 

Calef says Burroughs was 

"Carried in a cart with others through the streets 
of Salem to execution. When he was upon the lad- 
der he made a speech for the clearing of his inno- 
cency with such solemn and serious expressions as 
were to the admiration of all present: his prayer 
which he concluded by repeating the Lord's Prayer 
so well worded and uttered with such composedness 
and such (at least seeming) fervency of spirit, as was 
very affecting, and drew tears from many, so that it 
seemed to some that the spectators would hinder the 
execution. The accusers said the black mand stood 
and dictated to him. As soon as he was turned off, 
Mr. Cotton Mather, being mounted upon a horse, ad- 
dressed himself to the people, partly to declare that 
he (Burroughs) was no ordained minister, and partly 
to possess the people of his guilt, saying that the 
devil has often been transformed into an angel of 
light: and this somewhat appeased the people and 
the execution went on. When he was cut down, he 
was dragged by the halter to a hole or grave, be- 
tween the rocks, about two feet deep, his shirt and 
breeches being pulled off, and an old pair of trowsers 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 299 

of one executed put on his lower parts. He was so 
put in together with Willard and Carrier that one of 
his hands and his chin, and a foot of one of them, 
were left uncovered." 

Famous Judge Sewall was moved to make a rec- 
ord of the event of the execution of George Burroughs, 
and of the unbelief of many of the Salem folk in his 
guilt. His note bears date of August 19, 1692. 

"This day George Burroughs, John Willard, John 
Proctor, Martha Carrier, and George Jacobs were exe- 
cuted at Salem, a very great number of spectators 
being present. Mr. Cotton Mather was there, Mr. 
Sims, Hale, Noyes, Cheever, etc. All of them said 
they were innocent. Carrier and all. Mr. Mather says 
they all died by a Righteous Sentence. Mr. Bur- 
roughs by his Speech, Prayer, presentation of his 
Innocence did much move unthinking persons, which 
occasions their speaking hardly concerning his being 
executed." 

This judge was the only one of them all to make 
public confession of his error. 

Referring to the quotation from Calef, and his al- 
lusion to the repeating of the Lord's Prayer by Bur- 
roughs, a witch was not believed to be able to repeat 
the same correctly. As a part of the examination of 
an individual found guilty of witchcraft, that was 
one of the ordeals to which the culprit had to sub- 
mit; it was regarded in the light of corroborative 
testimony, and its repetition was always exacted by 
the presiding justice at the trial. Nevins, in a note 
to his work on Salem Witchcraft, says, — " the ac- 



300 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

cused often voluntarily repeated the prayer, as Bur- 
roughs did on this occasion." 

As to Burroughs' character, Fowler, in his edition 
of Calef's "More Wonders, etc.," disagrees with Sul- 
livan. Increase Mather termed him a " very ill man." 
Hutchinson declares that Burroughs at his trial, " was 
confounded, and used many twistings and turnings 
which I think we cannot wonder at." Cotton Mather 
writes, " his tergiversations, contradictions, and false- 
hoods were very sensible at his examination, and on 
his trial," Nevins opines, "that all these state- 
ments were based, more or less, on Cotton Mather's 
'Wonders of the Invisible World.'" Cotton Mather, 
and his Double-headed Snake of Newbury, demand 
equal credence with his tales of spectral visitations 
and influences. Mather and the Salem judges were 
no respecters of the infirmities of extreme old age; 
nor were they qualified to judge of the competency, 
or incompetency of evidence. They purged the 
threshing-floors of Truth with the brutal flail of De- 
lusion; and Sewall, alone felt the stings of Conscience. 
Stoughton was the Provincial Jeffries who presided 
most ably at this feast of crime. George Cor win, the 
sheriff, was a willing tool; and poor Samuel Parris, 
how his little brain must have throbbed and ached, 
as he tried to keep up with this drivel of adolescent 
hysterics ! 

Degenerate days! 

Not a few writers upon the occurrences of those 
days, have made serious attempt at palliation of so 
grave an outrage against personal right, and com- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 301 

muiial decency; but it has been at the expense of the 
standard of intelhgence exhibited by the Puritans in 
other hues of self-government. Had this weeding 
out of heretical tares been less cruel; or less tainted 
with apparent malice; or even less hasty in piling 
stones upon old Giles Corey, and swinging its vic- 
tims from the rude gallows on Witches' Hill; or 
somewhat more doubtful in its credulity, one might 
be inclined to plead leniency of judgment. Had the 
official sanction of these terrible deeds, that smacked 
of the days of the Duke of Alva, been less pronounced, 
and active, it might have been easier. But this was 
done by the Crown, which left its victim without 
coimsel, or the intervening arm of the Court; which, 
under the old English law, was bound to ward off 
irrelevancy and hearsay; and to shelter the accused 
within its mantle of absolute justice, so far as the 
same was possible of attaimnent under the existing 
laws, and a wise and temperate application of them. 
John Proctor, who was convicted as a witch, and 
who was hung on the same day as Burroughs, affords 
an instance of evident, and malicious persecution. 
He was a "proper sort" of a man, and was possessed 
of some local importance. He was referee in a 
matter of law between Giles Corey and John Gloyd, 
and undoubtedly incurred the enmity of Corey. He 
had his idea of dealing with this moral distemper; 
and he was one of those who kept his wits, when 
those of others were balanced about evenly between 
witch-ridden Parris' pasture, and Beadle's Tavern. 
He did not hesitate to express upon proper occasion, 



302 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



his personal disapprobation of these untoward hallu- 
cinations of Abigail Williams and her conscienceless 
coterie of adolescents. Proctor said, he " could whip 
the devil out of them," and it was a public calamity 
that he was not given the opportunity to apply the 
birch. Even this sturdy adhesion to sound sense 
counted against him in his day of need, to be re- 




PARRIS PASTURE 



called later with poignant regret by those who had a 
hand in his murder. 

His wife, Goody Proctor, as she was called in the 
witch vernacular, was apprehended, sentenced, and 
would have gone to the gallows with her husband, 
except for the plea of pregnancy, which procured for 
her a stay of proceedings. Before the birth of her 
child, the insane delusions of these Salem butchers 



I'^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 303 

had become weary or affrighted with the ever-present 
spectre of gray-haired Rebecca Nurse swinging in the 
wind; as, according to Rose Terry Cooke, 

"They hanged this wear}^ woman tlicre, 
Like any felon stout ; 
Her white hairs on the cruel rope 
Were scattered all about." 

But Proctor was a man of keen perceptions, and 
of great determination. He had his prehminary ex- 
amination, and was then remanded to jail for triah 
An observant witness of the manifest injustice and 
one-sidedness of these trials, he asked for a change of 
venue to Boston. It was refused him. He then 
solicited to be brought before magistrates other than 
Stoughton and his fanatical associates, which proved 
likewise, unavailing. No other inference can be 
drawn, than that these "judicial" proceedings were 
attaint with ultra vires, going far beyond the powers 
of the Court in these so-called trials. The accused 
might as well have been taken to Gallows Hill, and 
disposed of at once on the original warrant, as to 
Court. The result was the same, for an accusation 
was equivalent to a conviction; and the stain of 
Goody Nurse's murder is of the color of the fatal 
noose that strangled all, from Bridget Bishop to 
Sarah Good. 

Here is something of interest, as showing the lay 
sentiment of Salem ^^illage, and the current opinion 
which found definite expression: 

"We whose names are underwritten, having sev- 



304 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

eral years known John Procter and his wife, do testify 
that we never heard or understood that they were 
ever suspected to be guilty of the crime now charged 
upon them, and several of us, being their near neigh- 
bors, do testify, that to our apprehension, they lived 
Christian-like in their family, and were ever ready to 
help such as stood in need of their help." 

This petition was signed by John Fulton and 
twenty others. Here is another of similar character. 

"We reckon it within the duties of our charity, 
that teaches us to do as we would be done by, to 
offer thus much for the clearing of our neighbor's 
innocence, viz.: that we never had the least knowl- 
edge of such a nefandus wickedness in our neighbors 
since they have been within our acquaintance. . . . 
As to what we have seen or heard of them, upon our 
conscience we judge them innocent of the crime 
objected." 

This latter was signed by John Wise of Ipswich, 
and thirty-one others of his Ipswich neighbors, in 
Proctor's behalf. Neither of these, which were pre- 
sented to the Court's Assistants, availed anything. 
Great moral courage, however, was required to pre- 
sent them, so emphatically friendly were they to 
Proctor's interest. 

These allusions to the Proctor case are luminous, 
as illustrating the deeps of the moral slough into 
which the Salem authorities had waded, along with 
the insipid-faced Cotton Mather, to get altogether 
mired. Lieutenant-Governor William Stoughton was 
the chief -justice at these trials. His sanctimonious 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 305 

affectations made his administration of the law suffi- 
ciently odious; but his merciless judgments were 
painted with virulence. Once, when one of his vic- 
tims was reprieved, he left the bench in a flout of 
temper, to exclaim, "We were in the way to have 
cleared the land of these. Who is it obstructs the 
course of justice, I know not. The Lord be merciful 
to the country." 

In Proctor's case, notably, he was not allowed the 
time he thought necessary to prepare for the sum- 
mary exit in store for him. Even the clerg\Tnan who 
attended the hangings, refused the usual consola- 
tions of the faith, in his last moments on the scaffold, 
— the essence of barbarity of the Dark Ages. So it 
was charged, as showing manifest persecution, a 
charge not to be gainsaid. No doubt these peti- 
tions were thorns in the sides of the Court and its 
ready assistants, for they were the palpable evidence 
of the rising storm of open denimciation, and con- 
demnation, which was to follow all the active partici- 
pators in these outrages against right and decency, to 
their graves. 

The horror of those days must have been inde- 
scribable, with the short shrift of a fortnight be- 
tween the dock and the hangman. But those days 
are far away, and it is a pleasing thought that even 
the last resting-places of these nineteen alleged 
witches, or the, rather, unfortmiates, have been ob- 
literated by the soft hands of Nature. Would that 
these extracts from the ancient court records had at 
once faded into illegibility; but they remain for the 



306 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

world to see, even to the bottles of "witch-pins" 
carefully hoarded even now in the Salem court-house 
for the curious to look ujoon, pinning the traditions 
of Yesterday to To-da}^ 

Here the little clock on the mantel began to strike, 
and, unconsciously, I had counted nine, when the 
children, with a parting kiss, stole quietly off to bed; 
nor, was I omitted in the observance of this old- 
fashioned courtesy. I heard their light footsteps on 
the uncarpeted stair, and wondered if they would 
hide their heads under the coverlid, after hearing 
such grewsome tales of witches and ghosts that were 
likely to haunt the open chambers in the childish 
brain. 

The fire is getting low and everything has a drowsy 
sound, unless it is the storm outside. A half after 
nine, the ashes on the hearth are raked apart ; the 
half-burned back-stick is tipped into the glowing hol- 
low against the chimney-back, and covered with hot 
coals and a thick outer covering of dull gray ashes. 
The fire is raked up for the night to smoulder and 
smoke until morning, when it will be unraked to 
make the fire for the new day, — a custom not 
many steps from a religious observance in most New 
England farm households, — a sort of Fire Worship, 
— for the day ended and began, at this altar of 
smouldering flame. With a parting sip from the 
quaintly-fashioned brown mug, I bade Goodman and 
Goodwife a "Good night!" and climbed the creaky 
stair after the children, to an old-fashioned room 
with old-fashioned furnishings, to get an old-fashioned 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 307 

slumber under the dripping roofs, and perhaps to 
dream that I am on the road to Quamphegan. 

''Boom!" It is the wind buffeting the gable. 

I do not know how long 1 have slept, but I am 
thoroughly awake. 

On the brass-mounted bedstead, the tapering, 
fluted posts of which reach the ceiling, as I noticed 
before blowing out the flame of my candle what 






' ''-■ / ->&^« 



'<'// / ---'- 

^ 









ON THE ROAD TO QUAMPHEGAN 

seemed hours before, my watch ticked in a subdued, 
half-apologetic sort of a way, as if its only excuse for 
ticking at all, was that of making some companion- 
ship for itself. That it took a c^uiet enjoyment in 
keeping up its monotonous speech, cheery at times 
and brisk-like, dying away into a half-audible asser- 
tion of itself at other times, was evidenced \ij the fact 
that it was simply doing on this occasion what it had 
done every night since it had come into my posses- 
sion. All I could make of its iteration was, — 



308 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"Wake up! Wake up!" and I doubt not that had 
been the gist of its saying during my shmiber, from 
what occurred afterward. 

I am not a heavy sleeper. I awake easily if un- 
usual sounds are about, or even at will, if I have 
fixed the time for such waking before going to sleep. 
Some folk sleep with an alarm clock beside their 
pillow; but it is more convenient, and less trouble- 
some to the family, if one can make the time-keeper 
in his brain strike the hours; nor are my slumbers 
light, for they are thoroughly restful when in normal 
health. Knowing all this, I am wondering why I 
am so wide awake on the instant, when I should be 
soundly sleeping, with such a storm lullaby over- 
head. Something has touched me, and I have un- 
consciously responded. I look out into the room, 
but nothing is discernible in this cube of opaqueness 
into which the thick storm has converted my room 
for the time being. I seem to be apart from all evi- 
dences of humanity, as for the seeing of them, or 
hearing of them. There is no town-clock to send 
down the storm-wind the message of the flying hours, 
with its clanging note. Not even the little time- 
keeper from the "Yankee Notion" country, on the 
fireplace mantel below, could be heard, at its loudest 
stroke, beyond the front stairs; but, for all this, I 
have the uncomfortable impression that I am not 
altogether alone. AVho is it, or what is it, that has 
thrust itself upon my attention at this unseemly 
time of night? There are no sounds about, — only 
those of the storm. When the gale lulls a bit, — it 



F^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 309 

comes in fitful gusts now, with intervals of down- 
pouring rain between, — there is a rhythni of thick- 
falling drops on the pine roof-shingles that impart a 
sensation of wavering, irregular i)ulse to the timbers 
that hold the staunch roof and gable together; as 
if fairly worn out and discouraged under the pelting 
and drenching of such a night of wind, and wet. On 
the seaward gable, the rain courses down the warped 
shingles to the outer window-sill, with an audible 
splash and spatter; and when it comes with a gusty 
haste, it is thrown against the ancient gable with a 
dry rattling sound, like sleet. A hea\y gust makes 
the old house tremble from king-pin to cellar; and 
the wooden fireboard at the foot of my bed is blown 
outward; falling with a queer flapping noise, as if 
trying to catch its breath in the tumult; while the 
sounds in the chimney are augmented in volume. 
The wind, as it blows over the top of the chimney, 
fills the flues with a medley of wind-speech. The 
chimney seems thronged with summer-dwellers, the 
swifts, there is such a fluttering of windy wings; and 
then there is a sound of blowing into an empty bot- 
tle, only in larger degree; as if a stray storm sprite 
had caught some urchin at his sport of coaxing hide- 
ous sounds out of this creation of the glass-blower, 
and in a freak of mockery was playing like pranks with 
my host's chimney-top. It whistles, mocks, moans, 
and mutters all sorts of wind gibberish. It rolls, 
or tmnbles, headlong down the gloomy alley where 
the Smoke family live, making a deal of disturbance, 
and carrying with it swallow nests by the score, and 



310 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

huge scales of glossy soot; and, not satisfied with 
that, it coaxes great splashing drops of wet along 
with it ; an illustration in nature of how folks may go 
from bad to worse, when they are not particular what 
company they keep. I can hear the pounding of 
the sea; and it is like the rolling of distant thunder; 
so much like thunder is it, that I am not startled 
when my room is flooded with a thin bluish light; a 
pallid, weird, quivering flame, that is followed by a 
terrific crash that has swallowed up all other noises; 
and that makes the old house shudder nervously at 
this storm threat. The thunder dies away to wind- 
ward, with slow, uneven mutterings; the wind is 
awed into silence; and the rain comes in torrents. 

How much one can see in an instant of time! In 
that brief second of electrical phenomena, I have, 
by a sort of instantaneous mental photography, made 
a picture of all there is in this room, even to the 
quaintly-patterned wall-paper, and the colored prints 
that hang against it, and the old-fashioned furniture, 
that fills its nooks and corners, — a picture that will 
last forever. On the walls is the greenest of green 
and white paper ; the whole, a landscape in conglom- 
erate, with oblong panels, or blocks, separated by 
white seams ; as if set in an irregular sort of masonry 
bond, neither English, nor Flemish, but peculiarly 
old-fashioned; each pictured panel a duplicate of its 
fellow, and suggestive of the times when wall paper 
came in patches or squares, instead of rolls; and that 
were fastened in place with nails; all of which was 
somewhat before paper-hanging had become an art. 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 311 

One window-curtain of a like arsenical color, unrolled 
to its full length, is decorated with an inip()ssii:)le 
landscape, done in gairish colors, that would give one 
the nightmare if seen long in such an unearthly 
light. The tall, brass-mounted chest of drawers with 
its tiny looking-glass in its thinly gilded frame atop, 
and the blown-out tallow dip beside it; the square, 
top-heavy stand with its four attenuated legs and 
ancient blue-ware toilet-set to keep it company; the 
black rush-bottomed chairs, each one a ghost of 
Puritan dignity, that set stiffly between; and look- 
ing down upon them from the walls, the faded faces 
of good Queen Bess and the unfortunate Mary, with 
a half-dozen wood-cuts from some illustrated news- 
paper, pinned here and there in lieu of something 
better; all these, with the fireboard fallen prone, 
and helpless, athwart the home-woven rag carpet; 
and the hearth, dingy, cheerless and forlorn, are as 
indelibly imprinted upon my brain at this far-off 
day, as when I saw them for that single instant of 
quivering light. 

There is one thing in this room I have not men- 
tioned, — a little square-topped stand at the head of 
my bed, an old-fashioned chair close beside it, and 
in which was something I had seen in my earlier 
days that gave me a momentary chill. I might say 
here, I am an utter disbeliever in ghosts or appari- 
tions; but here in this chair is the impalpable, but 
visual evidence, that might convince a more credu- 
lous person than myself, of ghostly visitations, for 
one of the spectre family has come to play the ghostly 



312 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

watcher over my slumbers. I see in the span of a 
Ughtnhig flash, the figure of an old man, with long, 
white beard, dressed in most ancient garb, the cut 
and fashion of which are before my time, and which 
are strange to me. His coat fits loosely about the 
stoop in his shoulders, and on his half-bent head is a 
slouch hat, that might have hung for years in the 
dustiest corner of some old grist-mill. Now, I think 
of it, the old man's garb was more like a miller's 
than anything else; or like something that had been 
taken from its garret nail, with the undisturbed dust 
of years upon it. The occupant of this chair does 
not look at me, — he never does, — but seems star- 
ing vacantly outward into the room, as if depreca- 
ting any inquiry he might read in my eyes, or any dis- 
covery I might make, could I but get a look into his 
own. He is no stranger to me, with his palHd counte- 
nance and depressed manner, for I have met him 
several times since my early childhood. He always 
preserves the same impassive mien. Whatever his 
mission, I have never been able to discover it; but 
I have become so used to his appearance at any time, 
that I sometimes find myself trying to conjure him 
into existence, but am rarely successful. Sometimes 
he stands at the foot of my bed, but he never looks 
me in the face; why, I cannot imagine. He comes 
most when my room is flooded with light, usually at 
the full of the moon. Whether it is the family ghost 
or not, I do not know. I never heard my people 
allude to the matter, however fashionable it may be 
to have such a well-behaved ghost among the family 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 313 

heirlooms. Is it not singular that his visitations 
have never before been commented upon? I am 
an only child, and my father had numerous brothers, 
to any one of whom his Ghost-shij) might have at- 
tached himself; but I confess I was startled enough 
when I first saw him in his dusty, anticjuated clothes, 
that were the farthest remove from the musty ha- 
biliments of the graveyard, sitting by the white-cov- 
ered light-stand in the big square chamber of the 
old farmhouse, a good quarter of a century ago. 
There was one singular thing about this old fellow. 
While I could see every outline of form and feature, 
and could even distinguish the texture of his thread- 
bare garments in the moonlight, yet I could see 
through and beyond all this, so thin and unsub- 
stantial was this, to me, vagary of an unduly ex- 
cited imagination. But was it a vagary? Whether 
it was or not, will always be a mystery, to be solved 
after this house of flesh has been vacated, when, if 
restless spirits return to earth, the writer may take 
a hand at playing midnight visitant. 







THE TROLL OF RICHMON'S 
ISLAND 




THE TROLL OF RICHMON'S ISLAND 




!N these matter-of-fact clays one 
does not give much heed to the 
superstitions once cherished 
among the fireside tales of 
singular and so-called super- 
natural happenings; but that 
such were current coin among 
our ancestors is nevertheless 
true. They have come down to us as remnants of 
one vagrant chronicle or other, weird traditions of 
trolls, were-wolves and vampires, of ghost-walks and 
haunted houses that made the Salem Witchcraft 
Trials the short steps to that series of tragedies that 
are almost the only blot upon the civilization of New 
England. 

Children's tales, nowadays, hardly three centuries 
ago, in the days of Jocelyn's Hermans and Tritons, 
they were repeated oftentimes in low- voiced murmurs, 
when repeated at all — as if the Dead Ship of Harps- 
well were ever a ship at all, except in the mind of 
some lively romancer of the period, whose unagina- 
tion stood for the quintessence of veracity. They 
were the days when John Ingram's description of the 

317 



318 1'^' ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

Golden City of the Penobscot wilderness set the gr(>ed 
of all London agog to make immediate pilgrimage to 
Norombegua, the then Mecca of the New World ex- 
plorer, and whose only rewards were the direst fail- 
ure, except that so fair a j^icture as now greets the 
eye of the sea-voyager as he approaches the Maine 
Coast, would never have been limned, had not this 
same spirit of adventurous exploration, as it were, 
stretched the canvas and sketched in the perspective 
of what was to be an incomparable panorama of sea 
and shore. 

Southward of Champlain's "Cabo de Muchas Islas" 
was Richmon's Island, one of the shifting scenes of 
a drama put upon the boards in the days of Charles 
I, and which continued to be played with varying 
fortunes for many years thereafter. 

With Trelawney for prompter, greed, avarice and 
murder stalked across the stage with a realism only 
to be found in the living heart. Here were the liv- 
ing characters, and here they played those parts, 
whose entre'acts were enlivened only by the dirge of 
the ocean that beat unceasingly against the Init- 
tressed shores, as if in protest against the character 
of the play that was on, a kind of continuous per- 
formance, that was broken into only by the dropping 
out of some actor as the musket ball, or knife, cut 
short the span of life. 

It was here in 1855, on Richmon's Island, that a 
pot of gold was ploughed up, an old earthen pot, 
within whose recesses for more than two centuries 
had been hidden the romance of a far-away day, a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



319 



romance stained \\\{\\ more than one bloody tragedy, 
and which would have been as yet mirevealed, but, for 
the old Troll who lived, so he told me, about the stone- 
yards of this old "cape of many islands" ever since 
the days of Chaos, and who, for so many years, was 
the self-constituted guardian of this old pot of gold. 
This treasure is now the property of the .Maine 

Historical Society, where 
the ancient coins may 
be examined if the 
curator regards the 
observer as honest as 





himself; and it 
was here in the 
shadows of the 
lofty ceilings 
under the spell 
of the gathering 

twilight, as I fingered one of those worn discs of 
gold, with all thought of Aladdin, and his Lamp, as 
far away as my own book-shelves at home, the old 
Troll, hoary with the dust of every geological period 
since the Creation, slowly emerged out of the dusk 
to perch himself on the glass case beside Father 
Rasle's old chapel-bell, from which vantage-point, 
with one arm outstretched, his stubby forefinger in- 
dicating the coins in my hands, and with a voice 
that sounded like the music of the sea, he murmured. 
— "You would like to know their storv?" 



320 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

"Certainly, — very much, indeed," and eagerly, 
I replied, notwithstanding my surprise at the sudden 
appearance of this courteous and dwarf-like bit of 
humanity. 

"I will tell you, — " with something of flattery 
in his accent. 

I give it to my reader as literally as I am able. 

"You know the old Zealand legend of father Fine 
and the church at Kallundborg that he built for 
Esbern Snare?" 

"Yes." 

"Well, then, it was a sister of mine whom Fine 
had for wife, unfortunately, and who sang, — 

"Tie stille, barn min! 
Imorgen kommer Fin, 
Fa'er din, 
Og gi'er dig Esbern Snares 

oine og hjerte at lege med!" 

his fate of the coming day. Helva of Nevsek, and 
Esbern Snare are long since gathered to their fathers, 
but I can show you the stones of Kallundborg Church 
to-day, Gaffer Fine builded so well. And Gaffer Fine 
and his Troll-wife are alive to-day, and living, under 
Ulshoi hill. Fine beats his wife and children, still. 

"But the Trolls are an ancient people, and the 
Norse valleys, and the islands — 

"Low lying off the pleasant Swedish shore 
Washed by the Baltic Sea, and watched by Elsinore," 

abound in wild tales of their doings. Their lore is 
the folk-lore of every race; and their songs are sung 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



321 



in every tongue; the crooning lullabys, that mothers 
murmur to their drowsy babes, they have caught 
from the Troll-wives singing under-ground, — 

"Since the Creation, the Trolls have been the 
good spirits of mankind, with few like Gaffer Fine. 
My clan, allied to the Richmon family, have simply 
followed its traditions; and since the days of Cedric, 
the first titular king of Wessex, and especially that 
comitry, anciently, and since known as Somerset- 
shire, the annals of the Richmon family have been 




ON THE EDGE OF THE MARSH 



our own. During the sixteenth, and the early part 
of the seventeenth centuries, Ireland was practi- 
cally depopulated by the wars between the Saxons 
and Gaels. The recolonization of this waste coun- 
try was undertaken by English Queen Bess, and 
Popham was sent through the English counties to 
organize planter's companies to go over to Ireland 
in that interest. Many of the junior members of 
the landed gentry of Somersetshire found their way 
thither. Among those who went from Somerset- 
shire was John Richmon, or Richmond, who was 



322 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

one of the assignees of Sir Bernard Granville, who 
held a grant of the site of Bandon on the river of 
that name, a locality about twenty miles from Cork. 
Here, at Bandon, a town Avas erected; and it was 
here, on the site of an ancient Danish fort, that the 
first Protestant church was founded. These Ban- 
don colonists were Puritans, and such were the in- 
fluences under which George Richmon was reared. 
Several of these Bandon Puritans were among those 
who founded the Puritan colony of Massachusetts. 

" George Richmon grew like his ancestry, a sturdy, 
adventurous Englishman. Ultimately he had sailed 
over the sea to New England, and, when he cast 
his anchor, it was in the lee of Champlain's and 
Du Mont's Isle of Bacchus, which, ever since, has 
gone, nominis umbra, by the distinctive name of 
Richmond's Island. Here on the shores of the 
Dominion of Maine, this adventurous Englishman 
engaged in fishing and the accumulation of furs 
and such merchandise as would find a ready sale 
in his own country. He was the first Englishman 
to utilize this island for the purposes of trade, of 
which there is any record. Here he built a ship; 
and it may have been three or four years after the 
first voyage of the Mayflower, to Plymouth, if one 
wishes to locate the date, though there is no reason 
to be exact al^out it. In this ship he went to 
England. It is probable he made several voyages, 
as incidental to his career; and it was not long after 
this, that Walter Bagnall came to the island. He 
purchased Richmon's rights and engaged in barter 



Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



323 



with the Indians ; and by his cupidity and dishonesty, 
soon found himself in bad odor. Richnion was soon 
after lost with his vessel on his home voyage to 
England. This Bagnall was exceedingly avaricious; 
and here is where the story of the Pot of Gold begins. 

'' Bagnall's desire was for gold, glowing, yellow gold. 

" Dark and swarthy, and repellent in his personal 
appearance, like the child of the Evil One he was 
soon to become, he could hardly wait for the night to 




ALONG SHORE 



fall, that he might finger his rapidly accumulating 
store of golden coins. When the falling dusk had 
deepened into the blackness of night, he pulled his 
treasure from its hiding-place, and, pouring its con- 
tents upon the table of oaken deal, he washed his 
hands in the yellow flood, gloating over it, miser- 
like, until his soul was steeped in the glow of his 
subtle enjoyments; and then, with a stealthy glance 
about his kitchen, he hid his gold until the night 
should come again. 



324 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

" One night he became more deeply than ever ab- 
sorbed in his soUtary counting over of his gains. 
The night was rough outside. He was storm-iso- 
lated. The equinoctial had broken on the coast; 
and the winds howled and shrieked down the wide- 
mouthed chimney; the rain rattled and smote gust- 
ily against the rough log-gable; and the sea pounded 
across the bar to the mainland, to make the solid 
shores throb under the shock of the heavy waters; 
ever and anon, throwing the spray in sibilant sheets 
against the low eaves of the cabin. On the flat 
stone hearth the fire made fitful glow; and the single 
candle-flame quivered and shrunk to a sinuous thread 
under the stress of some random draught. 

"Anon a bolt of living fire shot across the narrow 
glazing of a single window; and then, the noise of a 
jagged explosion, rolled down earthward, a roulade 
of dislocated sounds that broke and fell away in 
peals of deafening reverberation, landward, and over 
the foam-streaks above the churning seas. There 
was a lull in the wild storm, and the miser fingered 
his gold anew, and his soul cried, 'More! More!' 
and his gold filtered through his fingers again and 
again, until his heart was hot with desire. 

"Another break of livid flame flooded the low- 
ceiled kitchen, and about the rough walls tongues of 
blue fire curled and twisted, uncannily. They over- 
ran the table of oaken deal, and the yellow of Bag- 
nail's gold was the ruddiness of blood, each coin a 
huge corpviscle, a splotch of dire red. The perspira- 
tion that oozed from Bagnall's finger-tips had a 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 325 

viscid feel, as if they were fresh from some foul deed. 
BagnalFs hair stood on end, each one a sprite of 
living fear. The cabin swayed from side to side like 
a boat at sea, and, with a final shudder, the toppling 
wick of the candle fell inert and flameless. 

" But Bagnall was not alone. 

"Before the dying embers stood a gentleman 
garbed from head to foot in crimson velvet. 

"Bagnall began to gather up his gold, which, 
strange to say, glowed in the semi-dusk with a mild 
phosphorescence, piling the coins into his bag between 
his knees under the table, while between his chatter- 
ing teeth came the audible exclamation, ' The Devil ! ' 

" ' If you please, and your very humble servant, 
sir, — and, by the ' way, friend Bagnall there is no 
hurry,' whereat the Devil picked up the candlestick, 
straightened the wick, and blew slightly upon it, 
and it was again alight. 

"Bagnall, speechless in his amazement, began to 
survey his visitor with more calmness. 

"'Don't mind me, Bagnall. I'm only calling on a 
few of my friends. Suppose you count that gold 
over again, Bagnall.' 

"The bag dropped to the floor with a smothered 
ring of its contents, as Bagnall muttered, 'Gold! 
what gold!' 

"The Devil snapped his fingers and the bag was 
on the table, and before its owner could reclaim it, 
it was upside down, held by an invisible hand, and 
the golden coins were running from it a steady stream. 

"Bagnall's fear was dissipated. Here was more, 



326 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

and MORE. But, at last the bag was emptied; and 
in its emptiness, it fell prone upon the yellow pile 
that scintillated with light of the living sun. 

"'You asked for more?' inquired the Devil, smiling 
in his evident pleasure at Bagnall's surprise. 

"'You must be the , ' was Bagnall's broken 

exclamation. 

"'Bah! what's in a name? There's a fellow over 
across the water, who has just written some very 
clever things. I believe he says a rose would smell 
as sweet by any other name, — very good, too, — 
I am inclined to think the idea is not new. It had 
occurred to nle when Adam and Eve were on my list, 
but, say, Bagnall, — is it more, and more still, that 
you desire?' 

"'More what?' replied Bagnall, evasively. 

" ' Don't be shy, man, — I've known you for a long 
while, and you are one of my sort, — I have a mind 
to make a bargain with you.' 

" Bagnall was silent, but his eyes wandered from 
the Devil's face to the pile of glowing coin on the 
table, and his hands went out to clutch the trebled 
hoard. As he gathered his hands full of the yellow 
metal, each separate disc became instantly a tawny 
reptile that scurried off the table to the floor to hide 
in the crevices with which it seemed abundantly sup- 
plied. 

"Bagnall's terror had returned. 

" ' Rather elusive stuff, isn't it, Bagnall, — see here, 
my friend, the Styx is the principal river in my do- 
minions, and it rises in the gold mines of the world, — 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 327 

I am the Gotl of Gold, man! If you wish gold, you 
can have your fill in a short time.' 

'"Can I be sure of that?' was Bagnall's eager in- 
quiry. 

" ' Certainly, sir, — a little matter of business be- 
tween us, — I desire security, of course, — your sig- 
nature, — that's all — you'll be in good company, 
Bagnall, — very good company, indeed!' 

"One by one the coins resumed their place in the 
pile on the table, which was noted by Bagnall with 
increasing satisfaction, though he was restrained by 
a wholesome fear of the man in crimson. 

" ' You can handle the coins, Bagnall,' suggested 
the Devil, benevolently. 'And, by the way, I can 
make you the richest man in the Dominion of Maine, 
or in the New World, for that matter, — you love 
gold, — and why not. But I am making a longer 
stay than I intended. I have an engagement, — a 
little bond to foreclose, and, of course, if you are not 
ready for business now, some other time will do.' 

" Bagnall fingered the gold, nervously, yet caress- 
ingly, his eyes snapping and glowing like the red 
coals that had for the moment lighted up among the 
dusky brands. The coins rang true, with no evident 
disposition to crawl off the table. For all the lively 
pleasure Bagnall openly evinced at the reality of this 
abundance of wealth visible, he was possessed with 
mental reservation to drive the best bargain he could 
with the Devil, who w^as feeding his propensity for 
evil gains with a diplomatic persistency, and an in- 
genuity possible only to the Devil himself. 



328 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY_ 

"Bagnall's heart was throbbing Ukewise with a 
tremulous fear of his visitor's purpose, and yet, the 
cry of his soul was, — ' More, more!' 

" Satan had in the meantime not been idle. From 
some hidden repository about his person the con- 
tract had been produced, and unrolling it, he had 
placed it upon the pile of glittering coin; but the 
parchment was of so transparent a texture that the 
tempting bait was plainly visible through it. How 
the gold burned and shone! Its glory filled the 
room, to dazzle and intoxicate Bagnall with its 
glamour, — fool's gold. 

" ' Sign there, Bagnall,' murmured Satan, his voice 
softly alluring, like the strain of music, and instantly 
the parchment became opaque, and as firm as a slab 
of ivory. 

" ' What do I get out of it?' suggested Bagnall with 
greedy cunning. 

" ' Get ! ' and the Devil stripped a splinter of wood 
from the firestick that leaned against a blackened 
jamb, — 'You see that earthen pot on the dresser?' 
pointing a single finger at the bit of rude ware, and 
from the tip of that outstretched digit, a single spark 
flew straight as an arrow to its mark, to illumine its 
flaring rim overbrimming with heaped-up discs as 
yellow as those that lay so securely within his reach. 

" ' Yes.' 

" ' Well, then, in consideration of your duly con- 
stituted bond to enter my service, and to continue 
obediently in the same, and to deliver up yourself, 
body and soul to my disposal; I, of the second part, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 329 

will fill that pot with gold every Friday night so 
long as you live, but, with this reservation, that I 
find a few coins in the bottom of the pot at my com- 
ing; ' and, wetting the end of the splinter with the 
tip of his tongue, he handed it to Bagnall, who, after 
a moment of hesitation, had affixed his scrawling 
signature. 

"'This gold is mine,' said Bagnall, drawing the 
pile closer. 

" ' Certainly, as well as that in yonder pot, — you 
are satisfied, now, I suppose,' said the Devil. 

" ' And you won't forget to come as you have prom- 
ised,' replied Bagnall, in a somewhat doubtful manner. 

"*0h, I won't forget, — and, mark you, sirrah,' — 
said the Devil, harshly, 'I know your tricks, and 
your cheating methods in trade ; so cheat your neigh- 
bors, and the poor Indian, at your leisure, but don't 
try to cheat the Devil. Remember he is to be 
reckoned with, to the letter. He is an exacting 
master; and once more, don't forget to leave a few 
coins in the pot. It is so nominated in the bond.' 

" ' That is easy enough. My soul belonged to your 
highness anyway, and I'm only getting my own, 
I'm glad you took the trouble to make me a visit,' 
said Bagnall, with an easy assumption of boldness. 

" ' Now,' said Satan, folding his bond carefully, 
' pass that mug at your elbow, — let's have a health 
to the bond. After you, my dear Bagnall.' 

"Bagnall choked at the first gulp. His rum had 
changed to liquid fire, and his tongue was too large 
for his mouth. 



380 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

" The Devil laughed a merry laugh, and then raised 
the mug to his own lips, to send across its rim a 
gentle respiration, which Bagnall could liken to 
nothing but the yellow reptiles that he saw crawling 
off his table, while from the mug, itself, burst forth 
a bluish flame. The Devil quaffed his brew with a 
single swallow. 

" 'Excellent rum, Bagnall, and very much to my 
taste. By the way, Bagnall, — count your gold!' 

" And the trader fell to counting the coins. When 
he next looked up, he was alone with his gold; and, 
except for the size of the pile before him, he would 
have declared he had dropped asleep to dream of the 
Devil, as he often did after his heavier potations. 

"Saturday morning seemed a long way off, but 
when it came, the earthen pot was brimming with 
strange-looking coins stamped with the effigies of 
an, to him, unknown people. 

" Satan had kept his word, and after that, Bagnall 
failed not to leave a few coins in the pot; and his 
hoard grew rapidly, so rapidly that he began to be 
terrified for fear his good luck would get abroad in 
the province; so what he coveted most, was like to 
be a curse. The weeks grew into months, and the 
Devil had not failed a scintilla of his contract. 

" One Saturday, he was up before the break of day ; 
Bagnall's wife was sleeping soundly, and standing 
before the dresser, he glanced eagerly at the old 
earthen pot, to discover it was empty. He lifted 
it with sudden anger. He shook it, as he knew the 
Devil must have done many times on his weekly 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 331 

visitations, but there was no response of the loose 
bits of gold. The Devil had done the same thing 
before him, to mildly, smilingly soliloquize, — 'It 
was so nominated in the bond,' and away he went 
to visit his next debtor. 

"Bagnall discovered something the Devil over- 
looked, however. His wife had poured some rem- 
nants of the treacle-jar into the pot, and the coins, 
though there, were smothered to silence in the sticky 
sediment. 

"A storm was brewing along the southern hori- 
zon, and unconsciously Bagnall was computing time. 
It had been a year and a day the Devil had owned 
him, body and soul, and the more he thought of it, 
the more his heart and courage failed him. Out 
across the island hummocks he went to one of the 
hiding-places he had selected for his treasure. Down 
on his knees, he pushed the dirt aside,, — but the 
yellow gold, it was gone. And so he went, from 
hoard to hoard, and all were gone, all but the trifling 
handful he remembered counting on that fateful 
night when he added his name to the list of Satan's 
bonded servants. 

"The days came and went, and Bagnall grew 
harder with his debtors. He sold poorer rum, and 
more of it. He cheated the Indians of their peltry. 
He scanted his weight and doubled his charges, so 
that they who once disliked him, now feared him. 

"But the Devil was not idle. He had not for- 
gotten. 

"He knew Squidrayset's medicine-man. He bor- 



332 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

rowed his garb and began to prophesy. The trader, 
Bagnall was at the bottom of their lean maize and 
their empty snares. The totem of the tribe had 
whispered this in his ears. If Bagnall were killed, 
the maize would grow fat, and the singing-birds 
would tell them where the otter, the beaver, and 
the mink made their new homes. The old days, 
before the white man came, would return; and their 



A BIT OF THE OLD COUNTRY 

warriors would multiply like the sands of the sea- 
shore; Bagnall was a little snake, with the belly of 
a whale, — he would swallow them all. 

" And the Devil's leaven wrought the murder of 
Bagnall; and the nomination in the bond was ful- 
filled. 

"But," said the Troll, " that is a matter of history, 
and you can tell that to suit yourself; but the old 
cracked pot ploughed up in 1855 on Richmond's 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 333 

Island was the same that stood for a year and a 
day on Bagnall's dresser; and the same that Squid- 
rayset dropped on his way to the bar that con- 
nected the island to the mainland, after the judg- 
ment of his tribe had been visited on the dishonest 
trader. The coins now in charge of the curator, 
are the same that were last left in the pot by Bag- 
nail, and which were so long held prisoner in the 
dried-up treacle, which, by the intervention of a 
woman, was the means of the trader's ruin. 

"Truth is stranger than fiction," said the old 
Troll; whereat he placed the stub of his finger to 
one eye, and with a half-wink, faded away as he 
came, imperceptibly, into the silence of the deep- 
ening dusk. 




THE PASSING OF BAGNALL 





TTTE PASSING OF BAGNALL 

leave a neighboring town some 
summer afternoon by the Packet 
Line, — a coastwise saihng trio of 
steamers, — taking one of its more 
commodious vessels for a night trip, 
is one of restful pleasure. There 
is nnich to see in the charm of the 
failing (lay when the roofs and towers 
of the old town are darkly, but crisply 
etched against the ruddy background 
of a sky as beautiful, in its soft brilliancy, it is safe to 
say, as any that may be seen in romantic Italy; and 
out through the Roads, one may see much that is 
not laid down on the navigation chart of the Gov- 
ernment Coast Survey with its mysteries of triangu- 
lations, topography, and hydrography; for in the 
place of its plain surface of white, are the dancing 
waters of the bay, and its hieroglyphics of black 
diamonds and dots are metamorphosed into black 
and red-painted buoys, that bob to one side and 
another, in a tipsy sort of fashion ; and into pyramid- 
shaped bits of open iron-work, with dolorous-sound- 

337 



338 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

ing bells suspended from the inner apex of each, that 
ring incessantly when the winds are high, driving 
the waves into hillocks, up and down which the bell- 
buoys climb, wearily, as if tired utterly of such a 
restless life; while the lines, that mark the contour 
of the coast, black, hard, and faintly suggestive, are 
but the symbols of numberless coves, inlets, and rocky 
points that possess all the fascination common to the 
sands, the bluffs and headlands, and the marshes that 
own the sea for their next-door neighbor. 

Once past a bit of granite breakwater that takes 
the brunt of the in-racing, storm-driven waters upon 
itself, with its little white nob of a tower at the outer 
end, and its revolving light that seems saying all 
night long to the home-coming sailor, — "Don't run 
into me!" the vessel runs the harmless gantlet of 
gray stone fortifications with grass-grown bastions, 
black unmounted cannon, and piles of dressed and 
roughly-quarried rock about their dilapidated, or 
forsaken docks. Beyond the mifinished forts are 
many beautiful Queen Anne cottages, their red roofs 
making warm patches of color against the massy back- 
ground of the naturally-grouped elms, the more l^eau- 
tiful, that Nature has here had her own way. Leav- 
ing Ram Island to seaward, and following the curving 
trend of the mainland past Catfish Rock and Ship 
Cove on either hand, with the newly-lighted lamps 
of the twin lighthouses glimmering above the dusky 
purple of the sea a mile away, one is at last on the 
open water, with all its limitless expanse before. It 
is a treacherous sea for all that, for, opposite a main- 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 339 

land point that bears the commonplace cognomen of 
Chimney Rock, are a half-score of sunken ledges that 
lurk, in a villanous sort of a way, just under the sur- 
face of the waters, waiting to impale some unfortunate 
ship on their ragged needles. 

These pictures of sea and shore glow and strengthen 
as one calls to mind some red-letter day when the 
painter, who sets his easel in the secrets of the eye, 
made a host of sketches to store away in the folios 
that crowd the eyery-day liying-rooms of the House 
in the Brain, — art treasures indeed, fresh from an 
outdoor easel, the like of which some people seem 
never to haye discoyered. 

The traveller by ship to eastward, must needs 
pass an island a few miles off the shores of old Scar- 
borough, of considerable importance in the early days 
of the discovery and settlement of the country 
adjacent. Now, only a single habitation is to be 
noticed, where were once rude wharves and ample 
storehouses for fish and furs; for Richmond's Island, 
in the time of the English Trelawneys, was, along 
with Monhegan and Pemaquid, one of the few trad- 
ing stations along the New England Coast. The 
curing of cod, hake, and haddock, and the rendering 
of train-oil were the principal industries. Very lu- 
crative employments they proved to be. 

John Winter, Robert Trelawney's local agent, 
apparently had an eye double to his own interest, 
even if he possessed one single for his master, — 
which, after a perusal of those admirable "Trelaw- 
ney Papers" of Mr. Baxter's editing, might be thought 



340 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



to be a matter o£ grave doubt, — for, Trelawney, 
shrewd and successful as a London merchant, lost 
everything to Winter, profitable as the venture turned 
out later to be, to the latter and his heirs. Trelaw- 
ney, an ardent adherent of Charles I, saw, in addi- 
tion to his New England losses, his star fall with 
that of his king, until, under the Cromwellian interest 
and influence, it disappeared under the Usurpation 
into that opaque obscurity that follows the complete 
downfall of a great political sovereignty. 




Captain John Smith thought it a great coast for 
fish as early as 1614; and, in writing of the industry 
of the region, says, — " and is it not pretty sport 
to pull up two-pence, six-pence, and twelve-pence 
as fast as you can haul and throw a line?" Before 
Winter came to renew the commerce begun by George 
Richmon, and later carried on by Walter Bagnall, 
fishing had been very profitable; but with Winter's 



1'^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



341 



coming, cargoes began to be wafted over seas from 
England and Spain, — salt, liquors, fine stuffs for 
wearing; and even arms for soldiers, and uniforms, 
if one may credit ^^'inter in his accounting to his 
principal. 

Bagnall, as above intimated, had settled here 
some time before the Trelawney and Goodyere Patents 
had been issued, and traded with the Indians to his 
considerable profit; although in a way to give him 
an unsavory reputation; and which, a few years 



.31 




EBB TIDE 



later, brought upon him a terrible retaliation, no 
less terrible than unexpected. Bagnall was found 
one morning in his kitchen, foully murdered. Guilty 
of extortion and dishonesty in his transactions with 
the rude sons of Nature whom he found here, his 



342 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

retribution was hardly less swift than perhaps well- 
merited. 

Of the many who came to barter their peltry for 
English muskets and ammunition, the crime has 
been laid at the door of the Sagamore Squidrayset, 
-- a summary vengeance to take upon even so dis- 
reputable a character as Bagnall seems to have pos- 
sessed. But the crime, if such it can be called, in 
the absence of proper court of inquiry, may have 
been committed in just such a low-browed habita- 
tion as its solitary dwelling of the days when I fre- 
quented its shores for a day's sport on the marshes, 
— an old weather-worn house that seemed always 
to be looking oceanward through its narrow win- 
dows, with no other sign of human interest about 
it than the thin ribbon of smoke from its lone chim- 
ney-top, that seemed ever hastening after some van- 
ishing sail in the offing, blown on, and on, until the 
slenderly- wooded rib of Front's Neck fails to follow 
its mystery. 

Front's Neck and Black Point are honorable land- 
marks of colonial history, and are not without their 
local tragedies, enacted Avhen Mogg Megone, and 
the outlaw, Johnny Bonython, were alive to put 
their heads together to outwit the English settler. 
Scarborough country was afterward known as the 
"bloody ground," for here were enacted many a 
dark and gruesome deed in the times of the Indian 
forays. 

There is a grim justice in the trial of Bagnall in 
the rudely-timbered kitchen of the old trading-house, 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



343 



by these untutored children of the woods; and in 
the gloomy secrecy of the night-time, with no one 
to motion a stay of proceedings in the accused's 
behalf. As one thinks nowadays of the corruption 
in high places, and the leniency of courts, and juries, 
it is natural to revert to the more primitive days 
when Justice gave unsparing judgment, and some- 
times erringly; yet, blind as she was reputed to be, 
her judgments were duly executed. 

What a grim picture, this grimmer episode of 




colonial life, — the darkness of the night; the iso- 
lated island hedged about by the gleaming phospho- 
rescence of the sea; the black landings and the dark- 
some group of storehouses; their lonely tenant, and, 
the murder! Peaceful times! So Bagnall thought. 
In the low-studded room, the stout oaken beams 
that reach across the ceiling, seamed with deep 
shadows, catch the fitful glow of the smouldering 
logs piled against the broad back of the dingy fire- 
place. The trader drowses in his three-cornered 
chair, while the like dingy clock in its corner tells an 
hour that lacks one of midnight. Its loud striking 



344 YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

falls unheeded upon the ear of the keeper of these 
storehouses; and the regular accents of its slow- 
swinging pendulum grow sharper and more acute as 
the shadows deepen among the kitchen cross-beams, 
for the fire is dying on the hearth, — a silent proph- 
ecy of the going-out of another flame, and the 
stilling of a hand that will never again coax these 
waning brands into life, and genial warmth. There 
is a sound of moaning, uneasy waters on the sands 
below the fishyards; an undertone of complaining 
as of smothered speech; and the wind, damp with 
the unerring prophecies of the coming tempest, has 
an ominous threat, a surly hint of danger about it, 
as it blows up from the sea against the landward 
gables of the Bagnall settlement. Black clouds scud 
over the low roofs, smiting the single, square-topped 
chimney with noisy buffetings, coaxing its single 
thread of pungent smoke to steal away with noise- 
less going, and the wind still hastening on with its 
ill-fraught message. The sleeper drops his head 
lower, lower still; his drowsing has deepened into 
slumber. An old pewter mug on the oaken deal 
table, just within reach, that has an odor of rum, 
knows why its master sleeps so soundly when he 
should have been wide awake, if ever. It is a long 
sleep, and a heavy one. There is still a glimmer 
of stars, far-off and fearful, beyond the little square 
window; and had Bagnall been awake, he might have 
seen the limning of dusky faces upon its glazing. 

There are noiseless fingers at the bobbin, and the 
latch is unloosed; and creeping as noiselessly over 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 345 

the threshold, come the avengers, — a half-score of 
painted savages, who gather as noiselessly about 
their victim, to look with long, greedy, and silent 
gaze upon the sleeper, with a hatred that tinges 
his dreams with trouble. Bagnall's drowsing grows 
fitful imder the subtle influences that are impelling 
him toward waking, with such unwelcome company 
about, of whose presence he is as yet unconscious. 
Some occult operator is telegraphing over one nerve 
circuit and another the premonition of danger; but 
Bagnall drowses uneasily. The clock ticks on; the 
wooden wheels creak and groan in grim protest; but 
Bagnall sleeps on. Only the breaking brands on 
the hearth disturb the rhythmic monotone of the 
swinging pendulum, while their smokes swirl into the 
throat of the chimney, an endless thread of gray 
that is being unwound by the Fates on to the reel 
of the winds that now come in strong gusts. There 
is a dash of rain on the window. There is a low 
muttering of thunder to landward. 

Like statues stand these dusky figures in the deep- 
ening shadows, biding the slow awakening of him 
whose sleep is crowded with weird vagaries, as his 
insentient self is hemmed about with a cordon of 
painted demons. See, — the doomed man twists and 
turns, as if his chair were one of inquisitorial torture ! 
He nmtters the name of Squidrayset. There are 
other strange sounds that drop from Bagnall's lips; 
but they are lost in the beating of the storm on the 
battened roof. The big, wet drops fall into the hot 
ashes, with a hiss and sputter. 



346 Y^ ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 

The clock has begun the twelve strokes of mid- 
night, that time when ghosts come out of their 
graves to haunt the old familiar places. 

Sss-t! The lightning! It comes so near, one can 
hear the flap of its livid wings; the room is flooded 
with a tremulous, pallid halo. A deafening peal, 
and Bagnall is at last awake. With blurred vision 
he notes his unheralded visitors. At this untimely 
hour they bode no good to him. There is a wild 
cry of terror, — a wilder struggle in the darkness, — 
and the trader is thrown and pinioned into his chair. 
The fire is replenished, — 

"With the yellow knots of the pitch-pine tree, 
Whose flaring light, as they kindle, falls, — " 

on the rough stones of the broad jamb with its cav- 
ernous, sooty flue, that yawns like the entrance to 
some den of torture; on the black cross-timbers; on 
the hemlock floors; up and down the rough mud- 
plastered wall, against which stand out in sharp 
silhouette the burly shapes of the Indians. 

"Ugh!" 

It is the sign. The hunting-knives are out-thrust 
in the ruddy firelight. Their baleful gleaming is 
the silent announcement that Bagnall's arraignment 
is over. The chcle narrows about its victim. Now, 
the verdict. The swift flashing of a dozen cruel 
blades, — a cry of despairing agony, — then the 
silence of the midnight falls, — the supreme influence 
of the hour. 

Is this tallest, broadest-shouldered savage, Scit- 



F« ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 347 

terygusset, Sachem of the Presumpscots, or Mogg, the 
sachem of the Saco lands? Was it poor Ruth Bony- 
thon's father, the unscrupulous outlaw, who has thus 
settled his account with the man who gave him 
fire-water for his peltry? 

The nmrder done, its doers steal away as quietly 
as they came, to be swallowed up in the gloom that 
held Bagnall in like obscurity. 

The sun rose over the waters with the next dawn, 
and set over Scarborough woods with the next even- 
tide, with only this picture between, — 

"The low, bare flats at ebb tide, 
The rush of the sea at flood, 
Through inlet and creek and river, 
From dike to upland wood; 
The gulls in the red of morning, 
The fish-hawk's rise and fall, — " 

with never a sail in sight. 

The old wharves and storehouses have long since 
disappeared, with never a sign of them left, although 
the spot is still pregnant with curious conjecture. 

All this is occurrent of the year 1631, and the 
records are so definite that the day of the month is 
designated. It was on the third day of October 
that Walter Bagnall was called to render an account 
of his stewardship. 

Justice in this case was slow, but in part sure. 
Two years later, one of the free-booters of the coast 
began cruising off and on Pemaquid; and, according 
to Winthrop, an expedition was fitted out at Boston 



348 



YE ROMANCE OF CASCO BAY 



and despatched to intercept the pirate. Upon the 
return of the expedition, it stopped at Richmond's 
Island, and while there, Black Will, one of Bagnall's 
murderers was swung to the winds " without form 
of law or benefit of clergy." This was contemporary 
with the establishment of the Trelawney interests, 
that, under the direction of John Winter, was to 
form the nucleus of an important settlement, that 
widened out, until the Indian and French raids of 
1690 had devastated Casco; with the result, that all 
the intervening country between that settlement of 
Cleeve, and the Storer Garrison, was depopulated, 
and Richmond's Island once more deserted. 




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