PEMAQUID POINT.
"Love thou thy land, with love far-brought
From out the storied Past, and used
Within the Present, but transfused
Thro' future time by power of thought."
TENNYSON.
A very small fraction of the people of New England, I venture to say,
know more of Pemaquid than that such a place once existed somewhere
within her limits; yet it is scarcely possible to take up a book on New
England in which the name does not occur with a frequency that is of
itself a spur to inquiry. If a few volumes be consulted, the materials
for history become abundant. After accumulating for two hundred years,
or more, what belongs to the imperishable things of earth, this old
outpost of English power has returned into second childhood, and become
what it originally was, namely, a fishing-village.
But those who delight in ferreting through the chinks and crannies of an
out-of-the-way locality, will be repaid by starting from Damariscotta on
a coastwise voyage of discovery. In traveling by railway from Portland,
with your face to the rising sun, you catch occasional glimpses of the
ocean, and you receive imperfect impressions of the estuaries that
indent her "hundred-harbored" shores; but from the window of a
stage-coach journeying at six miles an hour the material and mental eye
may receive and fix ideas more distinct and enduring.
[Illustration: "THE LAND-BREEZE OF EVENING."]
I reached the little village of New Harbor, at Pemaquid Point, in time
to see the sun crimson in setting, a cloudless sky, and an unruffled
sea. Monhegan Island grew of a deep purple in the twilight shadows. The
tower lamps were alight, and from neighboring islands other beacons
twinkled pleasantly on the waters. Coasting vessels trimmed their sails
to catch the land-breeze of evening. Then the moon arose.
The little harbor beneath me contained a few small fishing-vessels at
anchor. One or two others were slowly working their way in. The cottages
straggling by the shore were not numerous or noticeable. It was still
some three miles to the light-house at the extremity of the point.
At Bristol Mills I had exchanged the stage for a beach-wagon. The driver
was evidently a person of consequence here, as he usually becomes in
such isolated neighborhoods out of the beaten paths of travel. His
loquacity was marvelous. He had either a message or a missive for every
one he met; and at the noise of our wheels house doors opened, and the
noses and lips of youngsters were flattened in a whimsical manner
against the window-panes. I observed that he invariably saluted the
girls by their Christian names as they stood shyly peeping through
half-opened doors; adding the middle name to the baptismal whenever one
might be claimed, as Olive Ann, Matilda Jane, or Hannah Ann. I should
have called some of them plain Olive, or Matilda, or Hannah. The men
answered to such names as Dominicus, Jott, and 'Life (Eliphalet). Thus
this brisk little fellow's passing was the great event over four miles
of road.
I should have gone directly to the old settlement on the other side of
the Neck, now known as "The Factory;" but here, for a wonder, were no
hotels, and travelers are dependent upon private hospitality. "Do you
think they will take me in over there?" I queried, pointing to the old
mansion on the site of Fort Frederick. The driver shook his head.
"Are they quite full?"
"Solid," was his reply, given with an emphasis that conveyed the
impression of sardines in a box. So I was fain to rest with a fisherman
turned store-keeper.
The little rock-environed harbor on the side of Muscongus Bay is a mere
roadstead, unfit for shipping in heavy easterly weather. This place,
like many neighboring sea-coast hamlets, was busily engaged in the
mackerel and menhaden fishery. The latter fish, usually called "porgee,"
is in demand at the factories along shore for its oil, and among Bank
fishermen as bait. Some old cellars on the north side of New Harbor
indicated the _locale_ of a former generation of fishermen. On this
side, too, there existed, not many years ago, remains of a fortification
of ancient date.[45] Shot, household utensils, etc., have been excavated
there. There is also by the shore what was either the lair of wild
beasts, or a place of concealment frequented by savages. Mr. M'Farland,
one of the oldest residents, mentioned that he had found an arrow-head
in the den. Various coins and Indian implements, some of which I saw,
have been turned up with the soil on this neck of land.
The visitor will not leave New Harbor without hearing of sharp work done
there in the war of 1812. The enemy's cruisers kept the coast in
perpetual alarm by their marauding excursions in defenseless harbors.
One day a British frigate hove to in the Bay, and in a short time a
number of barges were seen to push off, fully manned, for the shore. The
small militia guard then stationed in Old Fort Frederick was notified,
and the residents of New Harbor prepared for action. As the leading
British barge entered the harbor, it was hailed by an aged fisherman,
who warned the officer in charge not to attempt to land. "If a single
gun is fired," replied the Briton, "the town shall be destroyed."
Not a single gun, but a deadly volley, answered the threat. The rocks
were bristling with old queen's arms and ducking-guns, in the grasp of a
score of resolute fellows. Every shot was well aimed. The barge drifted
helplessly out with the tide, and the captain of the frigate had a sorry
dispatch for the admiral at Halifax.
Leaving New Harbor, I crossed a by-path that conducted to the factory
road. Here and elsewhere I had listened to the story of the destruction
of the menhaden, from the fishermen's point of view. They apprehend
nothing less than the total disappearance of this fish at no distant
day. "What are we poor fellows going to do when they catch up all the
porgees?" asked one. The fishery, as conducted by the factories, is
regarded by the fishermen proper as the introduction of improved
machinery that dispenses with labor is looked upon by the operative.
Although the oil factories purchase the catch that is brought in, the
owners are considered intruders, and experience many petty vexations. As
men of capital, possessed of all needful appliances for their business,
they are really independent of the resident population, to whom, on the
other hand, they disburse money and give employment. The question with
which the political economist will have to deal is the expected
extinction of the menhaden.
I went through the factory at Pemaquid Point, and was persuaded the fish
could not long support the drain upon them. The porgee begins to
frequent these waters in June. The first-comers are lean, and will make
only a gallon of oil to the barrel; those of September yield four
gallons. A fleet of propellers, as well as sailing-craft of forty to
fifty tons burden, are kept constantly employed.
At Pemaquid harbor, the fish cargoes are transferred from the steamer to
an elevated tank of the capacity of four thousand barrels. Underneath
the tank a tram-way, conducting by an inclined plane to the second story
of the factory, is laid upon the wharf. In the bottom of the tank is a
trap-door that, upon being opened, quickly fills a car placed below. The
fish are then taken into the factory and dumped into other tanks,
containing each three car-loads, or about sixty barrels. Here steam is
introduced, rapidly converting the fish into unsavory chowder, or
"mash." As many as a dozen of these vats were in constant use. The oil
and water being drawn off into other vats, the product is obtained
through the simplest of machinery, and the well-known principle that in
an admixture with water oil will rise to the surface. The residuum from
the first process is shoveled into perforated iron cylinders, by men
standing up to their knees in the steaming mass. It is then subjected to
hydraulic pressure, and, after the extraction of every drop of oil, is
carefully housed, to be converted into phosphates. The water is passed
from tank to tank until completely free of oil. Nothing is lost.
This factory had a capacity of three thousand barrels per day, though
not of the largest class. Others were working day and night through the
season, which continues for about three months.
I walked afterward by the side of a seine two hundred fathoms in length,
spread upon the grass in order to contract the meshes. One of them
frequently costs above a thousand dollars, and is sometimes destroyed at
the first casting by being caught on the ledges in shallow water.
An old hand can easily tell the difference between a school of mackerel
and one of menhaden. The former rush in a body on the top of the water,
while the shoal of porgees merely ripples the surface, as is sometimes
seen when a moving body of water impinges against a counter-current. The
mackerel takes the hook, while the porgee and herring never do.
The talk was more fishy here than in any place I have visited. Here they
call a school, or shoal, "a pod of fish;" "we sot round a pod" being a
common expression. The small vessels are called seiners. When they
approach a school, the seine is carried out in boats, one end being
attached to the vessel, except when a bad sea is running. I have seen
the men standing up to the middle among the fish they were hauling in;
and they are sometimes obliged to abandon half their draught.
The whole process of rendering menhaden into oil is less offensive to
the olfactories than might be supposed. The works at Pemaquid Point are
owned by Judson, Tarr, and Co., of Rockport, Massachusetts. As against
the generally received opinion that they were destroying fish faster
than the losses could be repaired, the unusual abundance of mackerel
the last year was cited. Mackerel, however, are not ground up at the
rate of many thousand barrels per day. It is easy to conjecture that
present profit is more looked to than future scarcity. The product of
menhaden is chiefly used in the adulteration of linseed-oil. This fish
is probably the same called by the French "_gasparot_," and found by
them in great abundance on the coasts of Acadia.
Some account of the habits of the mackerel, as given by veteran
fishermen, is of interest to such as esteem this valuable fish--and the
number is legion--if not in explanation of the seemingly purposeless
drifting of the mackerel fleet along shore, which is, nevertheless,
guided by calculation.
In early spring the old breeding fish come into the bays and rivers to
spawn. They then return northward. These mackerel are not apt to take
the hook, but are caught in weirs and seines, a practice tending to
inevitable scarcity in the future. The parent fish come back, in
September, to the localities where they have spawned, and, taking their
young in charge, proceed to the warmer waters west and south. Few if any
mackerel spawn south of Cape Cod.
By the time this migration occurs, the young fish have grown to six or
seven inches in length, and are called "tinkers." They frequently take
the bait with avidity, but are too small for market. When this school
comes along, the fishermen prepare to follow, saying, "The mackerel are
bound west, and we must work west with them." These first-comers are
usually followed by a second school of better size and quality. I have
often seen numbers of young mackerel, of three to four inches in length,
left in shallow pools upon the flats by the tide in midsummer.
In the midst of a "biting school" no sport could be more exciting or
satisfying. At such times the mackerel resemble famished wolves,
snapping and crowding for the bait, rather than harmless fishes. This
unexampled voracity makes them an easy prey, and they are taken as fast
as the line can be thrown over. It not unfrequently happens that the
school will either sink or suddenly refuse the bait, even while swarming
about the sides of the vessels. This is vexatious, but there is no help
for it. The fleet must lie idle until the capricious or overfed fish is
hungry.
Mackerel swim in deep water, and are brought to the surface by casting
over quantities of ground bait. If they happen to be on the surface in a
storm, at the first peal of thunder they will sink to the bottom. The
movements of the fish in the water are like a gleam of light, and it
dies hard when out of it. The mackerel was in great abundance when New
England was first visited.
In the confusion naturally incident to accounts of early discoveries on
our coast of New England, it is pleasant to find one vantage-ground from
which you can not be dislodged. In this respect Pemaquid stands almost
alone. It has never been called by any other name. Possibly it may have
embraced either more or less of the surrounding territory or adjacent
waters than at present; still there is eminent satisfaction in standing
at Pemaquid on impregnable ground.
In the minds of some old writers Pemaquid was unquestionably confounded
with the Penobscot. There is a description of Pemaquid River from the
Hakluyt papers,[46] which makes it the easternmost river, one excepted,
of Mavoshen, manifestly a name erroneously applied, as the description
is as far from coinciding with the true Pemaquid as is its location by
Hakluyt. In this account the Sagadahoc and town of Kennebec are also
mentioned. Like many others, it is more curious than instructive.
It also appears, to the student's dismay, that in some instances the
discoverers were apprehensive of drawing attention to any new-found port
or harbor, as it would render their monopoly of less value. The account
of Weymouth's voyage by James Rosier omitted the latitude, doubtless
with this object. His narrative, if not written to mislead, was
confessedly not intended to instruct. How is the historian to follow
such a clue? Fortunately, after many puzzling and unsatisfactory
conjectures, the account of William Strachey makes all clear, so far as
Pemaquid is in question. Weymouth's first landfall was in 42 deg., and he
coasted northward to 44 deg. Strachey speaks of "the isles and rivers,
together with that little one of Pemaquid."
Sir F. Gorges, in his "Brief Narration," mentions that "it pleased God"
to bring Captain Weymouth, on his return in 1605, into the harbor of
Plymouth, where he, Sir Ferdinando, then commanded.[47] Captain
Weymouth, he continues, had been dispatched by the Lord Arundel of
Wardour in search of the North-west Passage, but falling short of his
course, had happened into a river on the coast of America called
Pemaquid. In the reprint of Sir F. Gorges's invaluable narrative[48] the
word Penobscot is placed after Pemaquid in brackets. It does not appear
in the original.
Pemaquid, then, becomes one of the pivotal points of New England
discovery, as it subsequently was of her history. As the French had
directed their early efforts toward the Penobscot, so the English had
imbibed strong predilections for the Sagadahoc, or Kennebec. Weymouth
and Pring had paved the way; the Indians transported to England had been
able to give an intelligible account of the country, the configuration
of the coasts, the magnitude of the rivers, and power of the nations
peopling the banks.
The Kennebec was known to the French earlier than to the English, and by
its proper name. Champlain's voyage in the autumn of 1604 extended, it
is believed, as far as Monhegan, as he names an isle ten leagues from
"_Quinebequi_" and says he went three or four leagues beyond it.
Moreover, he had coasted both shores of the Penobscot bay, penetrating
at least as far as the Narrows, below Bucksport. He calls the Camden
hills Bedabedec, and says the Kennebec and Penobscot Indians were at
enmity. De Monts followed Champlain in June, 1605, having sailed from
St. Croix two days after Weymouth's departure from the coast for
England. He was more than two months in exploring a hundred and twenty
leagues of sea-coast, visiting and observing the Kennebec, of which a
straightforward story is told. Even then the river was known as a
thoroughfare to Canada.[49]
The mouth of the Kennebec is interesting as the scene of the third
attempt to obtain a foothold on New England's soil. This was the colony
of Chief-justice Popham, which arrived off Monhegan in August, 1607.[50]
This undertaking was intended to be permanent. There were two
well-provided ships, and a hundred and twenty colonists.[51] The leader
of the enterprise, George Popham, was accompanied by Captain Raleigh
Gilbert, nephew and namesake of Sir Walter Raleigh.
A settlement was effected on Hunnewell's Point, at the mouth of the
Kennebec. The winter was one of unexampled severity, and the new-comers
had been late in preparing for it. Encountering privations similar to
those afterward endured by the Plymouth settlers, they lost courage, and
when news of the death of their patron, the chief-justice, reached them,
were ready to abandon the project. Popham, having died in February, was
succeeded by Gilbert, whose affairs recalling him to England, the whole
colony deserted their settlement at Fort St. George in the spring of
1608. Popham was the first English magistrate in New England.
Mather attributes the failure of attempts to colonize the parts of New
England north of Plymouth to their being founded upon the advancement of
worldly interests. "A constant series of disasters has confounded them,"
avers the witch-hating old divine. One minister, he says, was exhorting
the eastern settlers to be more religious, putting the case to them much
in this way, when a voice from the congregation cried out, "Sir, you are
mistaken; you think you are preaching to the people of the Bay. Our main
end was to catch fish."
[Illustration: COTTON MATHER.]
"Did you ever see Cotton Mather's 'History of New England?'--one of the
oddest books I ever perused, but deeply interesting." The question is
put by Southey, and I repeat it, as, if you have not read Mather's
"Magnalia Christi Americana," you have not seen the corner-stone of New
England historical and ecclesiastical literature.
Apropos of the immigration into New England, it was openly bruited in
England that King Charles I. would have been glad if the thousands who
went over were drowned in the sea. Between the years 1628 and 1635 the
exodus was very great, and gave the king much displeasure. No one was
permitted to remove without the royal permission. Even young Harry Vane
had to solicit the good offices of his father, Sir Harry, to obtain a
pass. He was then out of favor at court and at home, through his Geneva
notions about kneeling to receive the Sacrament, and other Puritan
ideas. "Let him go," growls an old writer; "has not Sir Harry other sons
but him?"
The colony of Popham began better than it ended. A fort, doubtless no
more than a palisade with platforms for guns, was marked out. A trench
was dug about it, and twelve pieces of ordnance were mounted. Within its
protection fifty houses, besides a church and store-house, were built.
The carpenters framed a "prytty pynnace" of thirty tons, which they
christened the _Virginia_. There is no earlier record of ship-building
in Maine.
The tenacity of the English character has become proverbial.
Nevertheless, the opinion is hazarded that no nation so ill accommodates
itself to a new country. The English colonies of Virginia, New England,
and Jamaica are striking examples of barrenness of resource when
confronted with unforeseen privations. The Frenchman, on the contrary,
possesses in an eminent degree the capacity to adapt himself to strange
scenes and unaccustomed modes of life. Every thing is made to contribute
to his wants. Let the reader consult, if he will, the campaign of the
Crimea, where thousands of English soldiers gave way to hardships
unknown in the French camps. The elastic gayety of the one is in
contrast with the gloomy despondency of the other. The Popham colony
abandoned a well-matured, ably-seconded design through dread of a New
England winter and through homesickness. Clearly it was not of the stuff
to found a State.
The previous winter was passed by the French at their new settlement of
Port Royal, commenced within two years. The seasons of 1605 and of 1606
were extremely rigorous. The colony of De Monts went through the first
in rude cabins, hastily constructed, on the island of St. Croix. The
next autumn the settlement was transferred to Port Royal. Winter found
them domiciled in their new quarters under no better roofs than they had
quitted. Though their leader, Du Guast, had left them, they were
animated by an irrepressible spirit of fun, altogether French. They made
roads through the forest, or joined with the Indians in hunting-parties,
managing these native Americans with an address that won their
confidence and good help.
[Illustration: ANCIENT PEMAQUID.]
Finally, at the suggestion of Champlain, in order to keep up an
unflagging good-fellowship, and to render themselves free of all anxiety
on the subject of provisions, the ever-famous "L'Ordre de Bon Temps" was
inaugurated. It is deserving of remembrance along with the coterie of
the Knights of the Round Table.
Once in fifteen days each member of the order officiated as _maitre
d'hotel_ of De Poutrincourt's table. It was his care on that day that
his comrades should be well and honorably entertained; and although, as
the old chronicler quaintly says, "our gourmands often reminded us that
we were not in the _Rue aux Ours_ at Paris, yet so well was the rule
observed that we ordinarily made as good cheer as we should have known
how to do in the _Rue aux Ours_, and at less cost."
There was not a fellow of the order who, two days before his turn came,
did not absent himself until he could return with some delicacy to add
to their ordinary fare. They had always fish or flesh at breakfast, and
were never without one or both at the repasts of noon and evening. It
became their great festival.
The steward, or _maitre d'hotel_, having caused all things to be made
ready, marched with his napkin on his shoulder, his staff of office in
his hand, and the collar of the order, that we are told was worth more
than four French crowns, about his neck. Behind him walked the brothers
of the order, each one bearing his plate. In the evening, after giving
thanks to God, the host of the day resigned the collar to his
successor, each pledging the other in a glass of wine.
On such occasions they had always twenty or thirty savages--men, women,
and children--looking on. To these they gave bread from the table; but
when, as was often the case, the sagamores--those fierce, intractable
barbarians--presented themselves, they were, says Lescarbot, "at table
eating and drinking like us, and we right glad to see them, as, on the
contrary, their absence would have made us sorry."
At Pemaquid we enter the domain of Samoset, that chivalric New Englander
whom historians delight to honor. He was a sagamore without guile.
Chronologically speaking, he should first appear at Plymouth, in the act
of offering to those doubting Pilgrims the right hand of fellowship. He
told them he was sagamore of Morattigon, distant from Plymouth "a daye's
sayle with a great wind, and five dayes by land." In 1623 he extended a
kindly reception to Christopher Levett, to whom he proffered a
friendship, to continue until the Great Spirit carried them to his
wigwam. All the old writers speak well of Samoset, whom we call a
savage.[52]
[Illustration: CHARLEVOIX.]
I next visited the little point of land on which are the ruins of old
Fort Frederick. Little difficulty is experienced in retracing the
exterior and interior lines of a fortress designed as the strongest
bulwark of English power in New England. It was built upon a green
slope, above a rocky shore, commanding the approach from the sea; but
was itself dominated by the heights of the western shore of John's
River, a circumstance that did not escape the notice of D'Iberville in
1696. At the south-east angle of the work is a high rock, overgrown
with a tangle of climbing vines and shrubs. This rock formed a part of
the old magazine, and is now the conspicuous feature of the ruined
fortress. A projecting spur of the opposite shore was called "the
Barbican."
The importance of Pemaquid as a check to French aggression was very
great. It covered the approaches to the Kennebec, the Sheepscot,
Damariscotta, and Pemaquid rivers. It was also, being at their doors, a
standing menace against the Indian allies of the French, with a garrison
ready to launch upon their villages, or intercept the advance of
war-parties toward the New England settlements. Its presence exasperated
the Abenaquis, on whose territory it was, beyond measure: the French
found them ever ready to second projects for its destruction.
On the other hand, the remoteness of Pemaquid rendered it impracticable
to relieve it when once invested by an enemy. Only a few feeble
settlements skirted the sea-coast between it and Casco Bay, so the same
causes combined to render it both weak and formidable. Old Pentagoet,
which the reader knows for Castine, and Pemaquid, were the mailed hands
of each nationality, always clenched ready to strike.
The fort erected at Pemaquid in 1677, by Governor Andros, was a wooden
redoubt mounting two guns, with an outwork having two bastions, in each
of which were two great guns, and another at the gate.[53] This work was
named Fort Charles. It was captured and destroyed by the Indians in
1689.
Sir William Phips, under instructions from Whitehall, built a new fort
at Pemaquid in 1692, which he called William Henry. Captains Wing and
Bancroft were the engineers, the work being completed by Captain
March.[54] The English believed it impregnable. Mather, who says it was
the finest that had been seen in those parts of America, has a
significant allusion to the architect of a fortress in Poland whose eyes
were put out lest he should build another such. From this vantage-ground
the English, for the fifth time, obtained possession of Acadia.
In the same year D'Iberville made a demonstration against it with two
French frigates, but finding an English vessel anchored under the walls,
abandoned his design, to the chagrin of a large band of auxiliary
warriors who had assembled under Villebon, and who now vented their
displeasure by stamping upon the ground.
The reduction of Fort William Henry was part of a general scheme to
overrun and destroy the English settlements as far as the Piscataqua.
The English were fore-warned. John Nelson, of Boston, whose biography is
worth the writing, was then a prisoner at Quebec. Madocawando was also
there, in consultation with Count Frontenac. The Abenaqui chief,
dissatisfied with his presents, gave open expression of his disgust at
the niggardliness of his white ally. Nelson was well acquainted with the
Indian tongue. He cajoled the chief into talking of his projects, and as
soon as they were in his possession acted like a man of decision. He
bribed two Frenchmen--Arnaud du Vignon and Francis Albert--to carry the
intelligence to Boston. On their return to Canada both were shot, and
Nelson was sent to France, where he became for five years an inmate of
the Bastile.
[Illustration: FRENCH FRIGATE, SEVENTEENTH CENTURY.]
The life of John Nelson contains all the requisites of romance. Although
an Episcopalian, he put himself at the head of the revolution against
the tyranny of Andros. As a prisoner, he risked his own life to acquaint
his countrymen with the dangers that menaced them; and it is said he was
even carried to the place of execution along with his detected
messengers. The French called him "le plus audacieux et le plus
acharne," in the design of conquering Canada. Released from the Bastile
on his parole, after visiting England he returned to France to fulfill
its conditions, although forbidden to do so by King William. A man of
address, courage, and high sense of honor was this John Nelson.
In 1696, a second and more successful expedition was conducted against
Pemaquid. In August, D'Iberville[55] and Bonaventure sailed with the
royal order to attack and reduce it. They called at Pentagoet, receiving
there a re-enforcement of two hundred Indians, who embarked in their
canoes, led by St. Castin. On the 13th the expedition appeared before
the place, and the next day it was invested.
Fort William Henry was then commanded by Captain Pascho Chubb, with a
garrison of about a hundred men. Fifteen pieces of artillery were in
position. The French expected an obstinate resistance, as the place was
well able to withstand a siege.
Chubb, on being summoned, returned a defiant answer. D'Iberville then
began to erect his batteries. The account of Charlevoix states that the
French got possession of ten or twelve stone houses, forming a street
leading from the village square to the fort. They then intrenched
themselves, partly at the cellar-door of the house next the fort, and
partly behind a rock on the sea-shore. A second demand made by St.
Castin, accompanied by the threat that if the place were assaulted the
garrison might expect no quarter, decided the valiant Chubb, after a
feeble and inglorious defense, to surrender. The gates were opened to
the besiegers.
[Illustration: HUTCHINSON.]
On finding an Indian in irons in the fortress, Castin's warriors began a
massacre of the prisoners, which was arrested by their removal, at
command of D'Iberville, to an island, where they were protected by a
strong guard from further violence. The name of William Henry has been
synonymous with disaster to colonial strongholds. The massacre of 1757
at Lake George, forever infamous, obscures with blood the fair fame of
Montcalm. The novelist Cooper, in making it the groundwork of his
"Mohicans," has not overstated the horrors of the tragedy enacted by the
placid St. Sacrament.
Two days were occupied by the French in the destruction of Pemaquid
fort. They then set sail for St. John's River, narrowly escaping capture
by a fleet sent from Boston in pursuit. The French, who had before
claimed to the Kennebec, subsequently established their boundary of
Acadia at St. George's River.
On the beach, below where the martello tower had stood, I discovered
many fragments of bricks among the rock debris. Some of these were as
large as were commonly used in the hearths of our most ancient houses.
The arch by which the tower was perhaps supported remained nearly
intact, though completely concealed by a thicket formed of interweaving
shrubs. Some have conjectured it to have been a hiding-place of
smugglers. Fragments of shot and shell have likewise been picked up
among the rubbish of the old fortress. Not far from the spot is a
grave-yard, in which time and neglect have done their work.
It has been attempted to show that a large and populous settlement
existed from a very early time at Pemaquid, with paved streets and some
of the belongings of a permanent population. Within a few years
excavations have been made, exhibiting the remains of pavement of
beach-pebble at some distance below the surface of the ground.
It is not doubted that a small plantation was maintained here antecedent
to the settlement in Massachusetts Bay, but it as certainly lacks
confirmation that it had assumed either the proportions or outward
appearance of a well and regularly built town at any time during the
seventeenth century. If it were true, as Sullivan states, that in 1630
there were, exclusive of fishermen, eighty-four families about
Sheepscot, Pemaquid, and St. George's, it also becomes important to know
by what means these settlements were depopulated previous to the Indian
wars.
The commissioners of Charles II., sent over in 1665, reported that upon
the rivers Kennebec, Sheepscot, and Pemaquid were three plantations, the
largest containing not more than thirty houses, inhabited, say they, "by
the worst of men." The commissioners gave impartial testimony here, for
they were trying to dispossess Massachusetts of the government she had
assumed over Maine since 1652. They wrote further, that neither Kittery,
York, Wells, Scarborough, nor Falmouth had more than thirty houses, and
those mean ones. This was the entirety of the grand old Pine-tree State
two centuries ago.
Colonel Romer had recommended, about 1699, the fortifying anew of
Pemaquid, and the building of supporting works at the next point of
land, and on John's Island. Nothing, however, appears to have been done
until the arrival of Colonel David Dunbar, in 1730, to resume possession
of the Sagadahoc territory in the name of the crown.
Dunbar repaired the old works, giving them the name of Fort Frederick.
At Pemaquid Point he laid out the plan of a city which he divided into
lots, inviting settlers to repopulate the country. Old grants and titles
were considered extinct. His possession at Pemaquid conflicting with the
Muscongus patent was revoked through the efforts of Samuel Waldo. The
garrison was replaced by Massachusetts troops, and the so-called
Sagadahoc territory annexed to the County of York.[56]
When in the neighborhood, the visitor will feel a desire to inspect the
extensive shell heaps of the Damariscotta, about a mile above the town
of Newcastle. They occur on a jutting point of land, in such masses as
to resemble low chalk cliffs of guano deposits. The shells are of the
oyster, now no longer native in New England waters, but once abundant,
as these and other remains testify. The highest point of the bank is
twenty-five feet above the river. The deposits are rather more than a
hundred rods in length, with a variable width of from eighty to a
hundred rods. The shells lie in regular layers, bleached by sun and
weather. Among the many naturalists who have visited them may be named
Dr. Charles T. Jackson,[57] and Professor Chadbourne, of Bowdoin
College. Some animal remains found among the shells were submitted to
Agassiz, who concurred in the received opinion that the shells were
heaped up by men.
From point to point excavations have been made with the expectation of
finding the Indian implements which have occasionally rewarded such
investigations. Williamson mentions a tradition that human skeletons had
been discovered in these beds. The bones of animals and of birds have
been found in them. Situated in the immediate vicinity of the shell
deposits is a kiln for converting the shells into lime, which is
produced of as good quality as that obtained from limestone rock.
In walking along the beach at low tide, I had an excellent opportunity
of surveying these remains. A considerable growth of trees had sprung
from the soil collected above them, the roots of some having penetrated
completely through the superincumbent shells to the earth beneath. From
an observation of several cavities near the surface and in the sides of
the oyster banks, the shells, in some instances, appear to have been
subjected to fire. The entire stratum was in a state of decomposition
that sufficiently attests the work of years. Even those shells lying
nearest the surface in most cases crumbled in the hands, while at a
greater depth the closely-packed valves were little else than a heap of
lime.
The shell heaps are of common occurrence all along the coast. The reader
knows them for the feeding-places of the hordes preceding European
civilization. Here they regaled themselves on a delicacy that
disappeared when they vanished from the land. The Indians not only
satisfied present hunger, but dried the oyster for winter consumption.
Their summer camps were pitched in the neighborhood of well-known oyster
deposits, the squaws being occupied in gathering shell-fish, while the
men were engaged in fishing or in hunting.
Josselyn mentions the long-shelled oysters peculiar to these deposits.
He notes them of nine inches in length from the "joint to the toe, that
were to be cut in three pieces before they could be eaten." Wood
professes to have seen them of a foot in length. I found many of the
shells here of six inches in length. Winthrop alludes to the oyster
banks of Mystic River, Massachusetts, that impeded its navigation.
During recent dredgings here oyster-shells of six to eight inches in
length were frequently brought to the surface. The problem of the
oyster's disappearance is yet to be solved.[58]
FOOTNOTES:
[45] This work is on an old map of the Kennebec patent. It was about
twenty rods square, a bastion. A house now stands in the space it
formerly occupied.
[46] "Purchas," vol. iv., 1874.
[47] In 1603 Gorges was deprived of the command, but had it restored to
him the same year.
[48] "Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society," vol. vi., 3d
series.
[49] See Lescarbot, p. 497.
[50] Strachey. Gorges says August 8th; Smith, August 11th.
[51] A fly-boat, the _Gift of God_, George Popham; _Mary and John_, of
London, Raleigh Gilbert.
[52] Samoset, in 1625, sold Pemaquid to John Brown. His sign-manual was
a bended bow, with an arrow fitted to the string. The deed to Brown also
fixes the residence, at Pemaquid, of Abraham Shurt, agent of Elbridge
and Aldworth, in the year 1626.
[53] "New York Colonial Documents," vol. iii., p. 256. Some primitive
defensive works had existed as early as 1630, rifled in 1632 by the
freebooter, Dixy Bull.
[54] It was of stone; a quadrangle seven hundred and thirty-seven feet
in compass without the outer walls, one hundred and eight feet square
within the inner ones: pierced with embrasures for twenty-eight cannons,
and mounting fourteen, six being eighteen-pounders. The south wall
fronting the sea was twenty-two feet high, and six feet thick at the
ports. The great flanker, or round tower, at the west end of the line
was twenty-nine feet high. It stood about a score of rods from
high-water mark.--MATHER, vol. ii., p. 537.
[55] "D'Iberville, monseigneur, est un tres sage garcon, entreprenant et
qui scait ce qu'il fait."--M. DENONVILLE.
[56] As it is inconsistent with the purpose and limits of these chapters
to give the detail of charters, patents, and titles by which Pemaquid
has acquired much historical prominence, the reader may, in addition to
authorities named in the text, consult Thornton's "Ancient Pemaquid,"
vol. v. "Maine Historical Collections;" Johnston's "Bristol, Bremen, and
Pemaquid;" Hough's "Pemaquid Papers," etc.
[57] While making his geological survey of Maine.
[58] Williamson mentions the heaps on the eastern bank, not so high as
on the western, extending back twenty rods from the river, and rendering
the land useless. The shell heaps of Georgia and Florida are more
extensive than any in New England.
[Illustration: MONHEGAN ISLAND.]