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SUMMER DAYS DOWN EAST 
 
 BY 
 
 M. F. SWEETSER 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH THIRTEEN FULL-PAGE HE LI O TYPES 
 
 PORTLAND 
 C H I S H O L M BROTHERS 
 
 i' 8 8 .s 
 
Copyrighted in 1SS3, 
 1?Y HUGH J. CH IS HOLM 
 
 PRESS or 
 
 *ROCKWELLSi 
 
 CHU RCH! LL* 
 BOSTON.' 
 
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CONTENTS. 
 
 The State of Maine i 
 
 Portland 9 
 
 *}ast\vard from portland .i3 
 
 The Kennebec-River Route 13 
 
 Brunswick and Harpswell 15 
 
 topsham, bowdoinham, and richmond . 21 
 
 Gardiner 25 
 
 Hallowell 29 
 
 Augusta 31 
 
 The Valley, from Augusta ro Waterville 37 
 
 Waterville 39 
 
 PiTTSFIELD AND DeXTER 42 
 
 ■V^ .stern Rcjte to Bangor 44 
 
 Via Lewiston and Winthrop 44 
 
 Auburn and the Lake-Auburn Spring . 45 
 
 Lewiston 48 
 
 Poland Spring ^o 
 
 Winthrop and Lake Maranacook 52 
 
 The Nokth-Western Wilderness 55 
 
 Norridgewock and North Anson 55 
 
 EusTis and Flagstaff 60 
 
 Skowhegan a:.d Solon 61 
 
 The Forks, and the Canada Road 67 
 
 The Rangeley Lakes 71 
 
 The Lower Androscoggin Valley 71 
 
 Farmington 74 
 
 iU 
 
IV 
 
 Contents, 
 
 Strong and Phillips 77 
 
 The Rangeley Lakes 79 
 
 Fhe Seaboard of Maine 90 
 
 Bath, and the Mouth of the Kennebec 90 
 
 boothbay and its islands 94 
 
 The Classic Maritime Peninsulas 99 
 
 Penobscot Bay 107 
 
 Camden and its Mountains 112 
 
 Belfast and Northport 115 
 
 Fort Point and Bucksport 116 
 
 Castine iiS 
 
 Mount Desert 121 
 
 Bangor and the Northern Forest 128 
 
 Bangor 128 
 
 The Route to Moosehead Lake 131 
 
 Moosehead Lake 134 
 
 Chesuncook and Katahdin 137 
 
 The Eastern Frontier 140 
 
 The Route to Aroostook and the Maritime Provinces .... 140 
 
 Aroostook and Madawaska 143 
 
 Passamaquoddy Bay 147 
 
 Principal Hotels and Boarding-Houses 151 
 
 Index 156 
 
LIST OF HELIOTYPE ENGRAVINGS. 
 
 Maine Central Railroad Station, Woodford's. 
 
 Kennebec River and Ice-houses, near Richmond. 
 
 Kennebec River and Ice-houses, from Dresden Camp-ground. 
 
 South Gardiner. 
 
 Hallowell. 
 
 Kennebec River, from Maine Central Railroad, North of Riverside. 
 
 Vassalborough, looking South. 
 
 Kennebec River and Railroad Bridge, Skowhegan. 
 
 Kennebec River below Skowhegan. 
 
 View from Maine Central Railroad, near Readiteld. 
 
 Maine Central Railroad Station, Lake Mara.\acook. 
 
 Lake Maranacook Grove. 
 
 Maine Central Railroad Station, Auburn. 
 
SUMMER DAYS DOWN EAST. 
 
 LMOST half of the domain oWair New England is occupied 
 by the twenty million acres of tlie State of Maine, a vast irreg- 
 ular territory fronting the sea on one side, and on the other 
 running northward almost to the St. Lawrence River, in a 
 ^'^^^ sharp wedge which cuts deep into Canada. It covers about 
 y^^ the same area as Scotland, or Ireland, or the Low Countries, or 
 South Carolina, or Indiana; and is one-eighth the size of Texas, one- 
 eighteenth the size of Alaska. The sea-coast extends from Kittery 
 Point to Quoddy Head, a distance of two hundred and seventy-eight 
 miles in a straight line; but exceeding twenty-five hundred miles when 
 the wonderful net-work of bays, fiords, and inlets is taken into consid- 
 eration. Unlike the greater part of the Atlantic seaboard, bordered 
 by straight lines of level and monotonous sandy beaches, half insulated 
 by still lagoons, the coast of Maine resembles a vast fringe, made up 
 of hundreds of long promontories and capes, thrusting their rocks and 
 hills down through and around the deep blue inlets, and interlacing 
 each other in every direction. At many points the powerful tides, 
 ranging from twelve to eighteen feet and attaining phenomenal height 
 a little farther eastward, in the Bay of Fundy, have frayed out the 
 outer fringe of headlands, leaving its fragments in the form of count- 
 less islands and islets off the coast or embayed between protecting 
 capes. It is a dangerous shore, with its myriads of rocky fangs pro- 
 jecting far into the path of international commerce ; but at every point 
 of risk the wise paternal government has stationed its light-houses, fog- 
 
 (O 
 
2 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 horns, buoys, and other warning signals. Here and there stand per- 
 haps half a score of picturesque old stone forts, each of which would 
 be shaken down in ruin if a shell from the Inflexible or the Lepanto 
 should fall on its parade-ground. 
 
 Among these islands and coves dwell thousands of the hardiest 
 of New England seamen, stalwart and clear-eyed Vikings, familiar with 
 all the coast from Battle Harbor to the Isle of Pines, and descendants 
 of ten generations of gallant mariners. There is hardly a family along 
 the coast that has not a kinsman at sea, or does not own a sixteenth or 
 a thirty-second part of some snug little fishing-vessel on the Grand 
 Banks. Season after season these domestic fleets sail away, watched 
 by loving eyes until they are hull-down on the horizon ; and later they 
 return full-freighted with the oroducts of their ventures, rounding the 
 
 't 
 
 long headlands, and exultantly sweeping up to the home-anchorages, — 
 
 "And some must sail to the banks far north 
 And set their trawls for the hungry cod, — 
 
 In the ghostly fog creep back and forth 
 Bj shrouded paths no foot hath trod; 
 
 Upon the crews the ice-winds blow, 
 
 The bitter sleet, the frozen snow, — 
 Their lives are in the hand of God ! " 
 
 At the heads of the bays, and up along the great navigable rivers, 
 are the most populous towns and cities of the State, about which dwells 
 the chief part of the six hundred thousand citizens of IMaine. In the 
 outer bays are scores of obscure little ports, each with its coasting and 
 fishing fleet of a few schooners, and respectfully regarding some adja- 
 cent ship-building town, where once the deep Indiamcn sailed in and 
 out, through waters that are now vexed only by an occasional steam- 
 boat. Since the combined malevolence and stupidity of Richmond, 
 Liverpool, and Washington destroyed American commerce, a great 
 peace has settled over these little maritime republics, which have be- 
 come, in their way, impregnated with something of the air of romance 
 and remembrance which dwells about Amalfi, Salerno, and other 
 decadent ports of the Old World. 
 
 Farther up the rivers, where they break down through the rocky 
 ribs of Maine, are the manufacturing cities, great knots of factories 
 
Ancient History. 3 
 
 built around the falls, and surrounded with the crowded homes of 
 foreign operatives. Among the intervening highland towns are myriads 
 of farms, and many quiet rural hamlets, dwindling every year in 
 importance and population, as successive armies of their sturdy and 
 enterprising sons join the great westward march, following the star of 
 empire far out on the prairies, and beyond, until they see the sun set 
 behind the long levels of the Pacific. 
 
 Beyond this tide-water belt rises the forest, vast enough to conceal 
 states, seven times larger than the Black Forest of Germany, and 
 covering two-thirds of the area of Maine. Here a continual attack is 
 made upon the fastnesses of nature by the lumbermen, American, 
 Indian, and French-Canadian foresters, familiar with all the intricacies 
 of this land of the mountain and the flood. As Theodore Winthrop 
 well said: "Maine has two classes of warriors among its sons — 
 fighters of forest and fighters of seas. Braves must join one or the 
 other army. The two are close allies." Amid these leafy leagues are 
 fifteen hundred lakes, covering one-fifteenth of the area of the State 
 with pure and pellucid waters, abounding in game-fish, and surrounded 
 by noble scenery of forest and mountain. The abundant natural 
 attractions of these sequestered reservoirs of the great rivers form one 
 of the greatest charms of Maine, and attract to its woodland labyrinths 
 thousands of visitors every summer. 
 
 It was nearly nine hundred years ago that Maine was first seen by 
 Christian eyes, when the mail-clad Norse sea-kings sailed along its 
 coast, descending from their icy northern harbors to seek the fabled 
 joys of Vineland the Good. Five centuries later, when the Pope still 
 ruled the whole Christian world, and the House of York held the sover- 
 eignty of England, fleets of fearless Biscay fishermen visited these 
 shores in pursuit of their calling, keeping, however, well out in the 
 Gulf of Maine, out of the reach of the grim savages who haunted the 
 capes and islands. In 1498 Cabot sailed along the coast searching for 
 new dominions; and his track was followed within the next century by 
 Italian, French, Spanish, Dutch, and English explorers, Gomez, Gos- 
 nold, Champlain, Bring, De Rut, Verrazano, and others. Early in the 
 seventeenth century ephemeral colonies were founded along the coast, 
 — De Monts's Frenchmen on the St. Croix River, Popham's Episco- 
 
4 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 paMans at the mouth of the Kennebec, Vines's traders at Saco, Gorges's 
 mctropoHtan dignitaries at York, the French Jesuits at Mount Desert, 
 the Enghsh fishermen on Monhegan. Most of these melted away 
 under hostile attacks, or from stress of famine and sickness, but 
 new and larger settlements arose at many other points. King James I. 
 of England granted the region to the Plymouth Company in 1620; 
 and two years later this corporation conveyed to Sir Ferdinando Gorges 
 and Captain John Mason the country between the Merrimac and Ken- 
 nebec Rivers, of which Gorges took the part between the Piscataqua and 
 Kennebec. For over fifty years this vast tract was governed by deputies 
 of the Gorges family, who finally sold it to Massachusetts, in 1677, for 
 ^^1,250. The country between the Kennebec and Penobscot, partly 
 settled under authority of the Plymouth Company, was granted by 
 Charles II. to his brother, the Duke of York, in 1664, and taken in 
 charge by Massachusetts in 1686. Five years later the region betw^een 
 the Penobscot and St. Croix became a part of the Province of Massa- 
 chusetts, which then governed the entire District of oNIaine, and con- 
 tinued to do so for one hundred and thirty years. The name Maixe 
 was derived from that of the French province between Normandy and 
 Anjou, which had been a part of the heritage of Henrietta Maria, 
 queen of Charles II. 
 
 But in all this granting and colonizing, and uprising of a great 
 State, the incoming people had to reckon with the ancient owners of 
 the soil, — the wild, fierce tribes of Indians, weakened indeed by wars and 
 pestilence, but still numbering thousands of grim and fearless warriors, 
 eagle-eyed and lion-hearted, and powerfully aided by French officers 
 and armaments. For nearly eighty years, with brief intervals of peace, 
 the infant settlements were scourged by the pitiless forays of the red 
 men, whose natural hostility was intensified by the untold wrongs which 
 they had suffered. It was a war of extermination, and the rattle of 
 the rangers' rifles, pouring death into the wigwams of Pcquawket and 
 Norridgcwock, was answered again and again by the dreadful war-whoop, 
 as swarms of red warriors overwhelmed the feeble villages of the coast 
 and massacred their people. Thus fell Arrowsic, Casco, Black Point, 
 Dover, Pcmaquid, and many another settlement, the flames of whose 
 burning Ut up the lonely shores. Step by step the unfortunate Indians 
 
Literary Interest. 5 
 
 were driven back from the coast, then into the wilderness, and finally 
 out of the country altogether, and down into the friendly St. Law- 
 rence valley. The fragments of the Tarratine tribe were suffered to 
 remain as wards of the State, and their descendants now dwell along 
 the Penobscot and out to the eastward. 
 
 These centuries of warfare and conflicts of races have made every 
 strategic point on the coast historic ; and many a noble promontory, 
 beaten by the sea and abandoned by man, bears the faint ruins of 
 ancient villages and fortresses, Indian, Norse, French, Dutch, or Eng- 
 lish, whose very names are now almost forgotten, besides those elder 
 prehistoric remains which offer such tempting themes to the anti- 
 quaries. If the legends and traditions and picturesque events of this 
 region had been gathered, and embellished and worked up as care- 
 fully and effectively as those of the Rhine and Hudson have been, 
 its interest would be very much greater, Longfellow's pathetic song 
 of his lost youth is remembered at Portland, and his "Morituri Salu- 
 tamus " repeats itself in the sighing of the Brunswick pines. At 
 Norridgewock, Whittier's " Mogg Megone " may be read ; at Harps- 
 well, his " Dead Ship of Harpswell," and farther eastward, his ballad 
 of " St. John." Castine has been sung by both Longfellow and Whit- 
 tier. Mrs. Stowe's "The Pearl of Orr's Island," and other novels, 
 give exquisite word-paintings of the ancient hamlets and communi- 
 ties of the coast. Still later, Mr. Howells has daintily drawn a Maine 
 hamlet in his "The Lady of the Aroostook"; and in "A Modern 
 Instance" has portrayed the life of the lumber-camps and the remote 
 inland villages. Scores of local histories have preserved traditions 
 and events which await only a skilful literary touch to assume 
 vigorous life. 
 
 In the year 1820 the District of ]Maine was separated from Massa- 
 chusetts, and became a sovereign State, the twenty-third in the order 
 of seniority, and the youngest of the Atlantic States, except Florida. 
 Since that time, in spite of the continual drain of emigration to the 
 West, the population has trebled, and the valuation has risen to half 
 a billion dollars. Of late years the railway system has been extended 
 and perfected in many directions, until it includes three first-class lines 
 from Portland to the southward, and two to the White Mountains and 
 
6 Siunmer Days Down East. 
 
 Canada, besides the great Maine Central line, which runs out to Ban- 
 gor and the Maritime Provinces, with branches to the Rangeley region, 
 along the upper Kennebec, to the quaint marine cities of Bath and 
 Belfast, and in several other directions, giving easy access to hundreds 
 of cities and towns. This great and complex system of routes is under 
 the management of tried and efficient officers, President George E. 
 B. Jackson being the guardian of its financial security, while General 
 Manager Payson Tucker prov-ides carefully for the safety and con- 
 venience of its thronging trains, and General Passenger Agent F. E. 
 Boothby arranges ever-new routes for travellers, and forms schedules 
 of excursion routes in great variety. Connecting with this Briarean 
 net-work of railways is a fleet of scores of steamboats plying on the 
 rivers and bays, and along the many lakes, large and small, which are 
 approached by the iron rails. By these various routes of travel myriads 
 of travellers are comfortably conveyed every season to their destina- 
 tions in the great Northern park of New England. 
 
 After combining under a single powerful management the various 
 small railroad corporations in the State of Maine, the officers of the 
 Maine Central line went steadily forward with the work of improving 
 the condition of their track and rolling-stock, in every particular, in 
 order to give the new route its proper place among the first-class and 
 efficient railroads of America. The work was done quietly and persist- 
 ently, and coincidently the managers adopted a liberal system of cater- 
 ing for the great army of summer travel which yearly invades New 
 England, and for whose pleasure and comfort this iron avenue among 
 shadowy forests and flashing lakes, and along the margins of famous 
 .rivers, and past the head of many an Atlantic inlet, seems to have been 
 specially created. In spite of (or because of) these innovations and 
 expenditures, Maine Central bonds, which formerly lay heavy on the 
 market at far below par, rose steadily to a hundred cents on a dollar, 
 and then passed upward to a premium, in which happy direction they are 
 still moving. It is a triumph of intelligent, enterprising, and conscien- 
 tious management, welding a number of unimportant members into a 
 powerful and imposing combination, continually augmenting its strength 
 and influence from healthful interior growth. 
 
 The Maine Central officials are scrupulously particular about 
 
An Aisthetic Railroad. 7 
 
 {\\e\r personnel, their track, and their rolHng-stock, and carefully study 
 the financial security, the safety, and all other problems connected with 
 so large an enterprise. But they do not lose sight of the less important 
 (but still interesting) questions connected with the minor details of 
 management, and one of the foremost among these is the proper care 
 of stations. The buildings are neatly finished and painted, and kept 
 with military neatness ; and, as rapidly as possible, new stations are 
 being erected in place of the old ones. A comprehensive system of 
 landscape-gardening has been adopted, by whose operation the dry and 
 dusty wastes, encumbered with rubbish, which usually surround New- 
 England railroad stations, are replaced by dainty little gardens, pro- 
 tected by fences, and blushing under the unaccustomed blessing of 
 broad beds of flowers and clumps of ornamental shrubbery. At some 
 of the larger towns miniature parks have been laid out around the 
 depot buildings ; and the traveller, weary of the heat and dust of a 
 summer day's ride, can refresh his eyes with the vivid colors of nature's 
 fairest flowers, and the plashing of cool fountains, and the artistic group- 
 ing of verdant lawns and shrubbery. As soon as freezing weather is 
 over an annual order is issued to have the company's stations and 
 premises and other surroundings thoroughly cleaned ; and this is fol- 
 lowed later by a supplementary order with special reference to the 
 flower-gardens and parks, the roses and geraniums, and other strange 
 corporation afi'airs. 
 
 The'preeminent characteristic of the Maine Central is its scenery 
 of lakes, rivers, and bays, which gives en almost continual water view on 
 one side or the other to travellers bound over this route. Beginning 
 with Portland Harbor and Fore River, and ending at the St. Croix River, 
 on the remote eastern frontier, the line continually seeks the margins of 
 blue waters, winding around sinuous bays, rushing across the heads of 
 silvery beaches, or descending to the long expanses of inland ponds. 
 From near Brunswick clear up to Skowhegan, a distance of nearly 
 seventy-five miles, the route lies directly on the bank of the lordly Ken- 
 nebec, whose clear waters flow downward beside, oftentimes bearing the 
 great rafts of the lumber merchants, or the tall vessels of the ice com- 
 panies, and giving opportunity for a casual survey of the magnitude of 
 these Maine industries. Here, too, are several interesting old river 
 
8 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 cities, surrounded with opportunities for summer pleasure, and inviting 
 a visit from the leisurely tourist. Turn to the northward, up the 
 Androscoggin, and other leagues of beautiful river scenery open before 
 you; or go on toward and beyond Bangor, and for hours ride along the 
 Penobscot and Mattawamkeag, with a ceaseless variety of scenery and 
 incident passing on the water-side. Elsewhere there is a perfect rosary 
 of ponds stretching for mile after mile through the farming country 
 among the hills, and followed by the iron road, which, in seeking for 
 easy grades, has found unusual scenic wealth. 
 
 Through such scenes runs this net-work of routes, giving access on 
 one side to the sea-shore, and on the other to the forest, and all that in 
 them is, — the beaches and islands, yachts and red parasols, of the one^ 
 and the glens and trout-pools, canoes and fairest rural maids, of the inland 
 counties. For Maine is now peculiarly celebrated as a land of summer joys, 
 where thousands of people who have had enough of the more artificial 
 attractions of the older watering-places come to these scenes near to 
 nature's heart, to enjoy repose and temporary change of life in a free 
 and delightful unconventionality. Here they can find variety enough 
 to suit every taste, — the wildest of sea-coasts, whose dark rocky points 
 are fringed with perpetual surf ; placid and tranquil river scenes, and 
 lowland lakes shining amid the open pastures ; mineral springs, with 
 huge hotels and well-advertised modern fountains of life ; scores of 
 points of deep interest to students of history and antiquity, with ample 
 opportunities for research ; harbors where the handsomest and fleetest 
 yachts gather, near Newport-like summer cities ; vast inland solitudes of 
 forest and fell, the chosen home of game, great and small; far-out-of- 
 thc-way lakes, the most favorite resorts of gentlemen-fishermen ; and 
 stately mountains, affording very impressive forms of highland scenery. 
 In such a summer paradise one can hardly go amiss. 
 

 PORTLAND. 
 
 Q-^^OR all purposes of tourist travel Portland is the threshold of 
 Maine. To be sure, there are many points of interest in the 
 -/// J»if ^i^^'*^^^^ Pine-Tree State before Portland is reached, — the beaches of 
 (vX-^.;^^ York, Wells, Kennebunkport, Biddeford, Old Orchard, and 
 c^'^ Scarborough; the high hills of xAgamenticus, Lake Sebago, 
 
 ^j P'ryeburg, and Bethel ; but the five great railroads passing 
 these localities all converge at Portland into a great strategic centre, 
 beyond which lie the long lines of maritime peninsulas and famous 
 islands, the populous tide-water counties, the inland lakes, and the 
 vast wilderness of Maine. From the tower on Munjoy's Hill you can 
 see on one side the long serrated line of the White Mountains, and on 
 the other a wide sweep of the open sea, extending to the mouth of the 
 Kennebec. It is a city that is set on the hills, and cannot be hid. On 
 every side there are beautiful excursion-routes, by road, railway, or sea, 
 to the beach and island resorts within a half-hour's sail or ride, or out 
 beyond this range, in every direction, to the well-known lake and moun- 
 tain hotels and villages within two or three hours' journey. Many 
 travellers bound for points farther to the eastward find it convenient 
 and pleasant to rest in Portland for a day or two, enjoying very com- 
 fortable accommodations at the magnific-e-nt Falmouth Hotel, and 
 the other large public houses near by. 
 
 It is a city of about 33,000 inhabitants, and a valuation of above 
 $30,000,000, with five or six daily newspapers, half-a-dozen banks, two 
 savings-banks with deposits of nearly $8,000,000, twenty churches, a 
 
 (9) 
 
lo Summer Days Down East. 
 
 large and flourishing shipping trade, and a considerable number of 
 profitable manufactures. The people are celebrated for their culture 
 and urbanity, and have included among their social circles litteratejirs 
 like N. P. Willis and his gifted sister, Fanny Fern, Seba Smith and 
 Elizabeth Oakes Smith, Henry W. Longfellow, John Neal, Mrs. Ann 
 S. Stephens and Mrs. Abba Goold Woolson, Cyrus A. Bartol and 
 Thomas Hill, Mrs. Elizabeth Akers Allen, Grenville Mellen, Elijah 
 Kellogg, Edward S. Morse, and many other famous names. Tilton, 
 Beckett, Harry Brown, and a dozen other well-known artists have 
 called this their home. Alden and the Preblcs are among the cele- 
 brated naval heroes of Portland ; and among its statesmen were the 
 Fessendens, the Shepleys, Horatio King, and Theophilus Parsons. 
 The Episcopalians and the Roman Catholics have cathedrals here, — 
 one cosy and aristocratic, the ether spacious and imposing ; and other 
 religious fraternities have buildings of considerable importance. 
 
 It was away back in 1632 that a small trading-post was founded 
 on the site of Portland, the ground having been leased to the merchants, 
 by Gorges, for two thousand years. The Indians called the locality 
 Machigoiinc; but the new-comers bestowed upon it, " now and forever 
 henceforth," the extraordinary name of Stogwnmor. When King 
 Philip's War broke out, in 1675, the Indians made a fierce foray into 
 the little town, and killed or captured thirty-four persons. To prevent 
 a repetition of this massacre the strong defences of Fort Eoyal were 
 constructed, and under its protection the village soon grew to a popu- 
 lation of six hundred souls. It was in 1688 that an army of four hun- 
 dred Indian warriors attempted to over-run the town, and would have 
 done it, but that Major Church and his veteran Massachusetts volun- 
 teers unexpectedly sailed into the bay, and landed on the strand, after 
 which they pitched into the enemy back of the town, and drove 
 them into full retreat, after a long and Homeric contest. A year later 
 the survivors returned with new hordes of forest braves, and several 
 skilful French officers to direct their attack. There was a siege of 
 several days, a hot sortie and fight, and then Fort Loyal surrendered, 
 with hardly a whole skin left in its garrison. That was an end of the 
 colonial town, and twenty-five years passed away, while only birds and 
 wild beasts dwelt amon<i the deserted ruins of fort and houses. After 
 
Portland. * 1 1 
 
 the Peace of Utrecht, however, a number of sturdy old veterans from 
 the disbanded garrisons along the coast made their home here, and 
 when the Indians once more came down to pay their compliments 
 they found a line of fortified streets, and strong guards of men-at-arms 
 at every point. The town bore the name of Falmouth, and had a flour- 
 ishing commerce with Britain and the West Indies, and a population of 
 two thousand, on that bright October morning of 1775 when Captain 
 Mowatt's British fleet sailed up the harbor and poured upon it for 
 eight hours an incessant and destructive bombardment. The houses 
 that escaped from the hot shot were burned by landing parties of red- 
 coats ; and the town once more sank down in ruins. But the natural 
 advantages of the locality are so great that new cities would rise on 
 this site yearl}^ if they could be so often destroyed, and so, in brief 
 space of time, the ruins were removed, and another Falmouth looked 
 out over the blue waves. 
 
 The chief event of modern times in Portland was the great fire of 
 1866, which was caused by a fire-cracker, on the Fourth of July, and 
 destroyed nearly all the business quarter of the city, burning with fatal 
 steadiness for sixteen hours, and inflicting a damage of about ten 
 million dollars. The more densely-built district is therefore entirely 
 modern, and includes many handsome and imposing buildings, such 
 as the white marble Greek temple occupied by the Post Office, the 
 massive granite Custom House, and the huge and high-domed City 
 Hall, of Nova-Scotia sandstone, and containing a large public library. 
 The fire spared the ancient house at the corner of Hancock and Fore 
 streets, in which Henry W. Longfellow was born, and halted before 
 reaching the beautiful and aristocratic streets of Bramhall's Hill, the 
 West End of Portland, where stand lines of stately old mansions, sug- 
 gestive of the old noblesse of ship-owners and retired sea-captains, 
 surrounded by gardens, and bordered by double rows of tall and 
 ancient trees. The fairest flowers still adorn these massive archi- 
 tectural relics, for the beautiful daughters of the three eastern "ports" 
 — Newburyport, Portsmouth, and Portland — have often been charac- 
 terized as the pride of New England. 
 
 The city has a noble site on a narrow peninsula at one end of 
 Casco Bay, and rises along the slopes and over the crests of two 
 
1 2 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 symmetrical hills, one hundred and sixty and one hundred and seventy- 
 five feet above the water-level. The appearance of these populous 
 ridges, as seen from the harbor, or from the lowland suburbs on the 
 landward side, is very imposing, and gives a worthy first impression of 
 the bright, enterprising, and handsome metropolis of Maine. 
 
 It is but a half-hour's ride by rail to Old Orchard Beach, one of 
 the most famous sea-shore resorts of New England, with vast and 
 magnificent hotels, frequented by the best people of the adjacent States, 
 and by many wealthy families from Upper Canada. The beach is nine 
 miles long, a vast curving strand, sloping very gently downward, and 
 affording a royal driveway at low tide ; while a little way back are very 
 lovely woods, amid which various societies of religious persons enjoy 
 the camp-meeting season. Even nearer Portland are Scarboro' Beach, 
 Cape Elizabeth, and other desirable resorts ; and Cushing's Island, at 
 the mouth of the harbor, is being beautified by the most skilful land- 
 scape-gardening, and will soon become an exquisite marine park, 
 adorned with many summer-cottages. 
 
EASTWARD FROM PORTLAND. 
 
 THE KENNEBEC-RIVER ROUTE. 
 
 HE entrance to interior Maine and the wonderful Eastern 
 ^^ seaboard leads through the busy and crowded terminal 
 station of the Maine Central Railroad at Portland, the begin- 
 '^^il ning of a varied group of unrivalled summer routes, pro- 
 vided with every convenience for comfortable travel, and every 
 inducement for leisurely exploration. Equipped with veracious 
 guide-books, and not-too-philosophical novels, bright newspapers, and 
 other comforts, the traveller takes his place in the luxurious cars, 
 secure of an easy and interesting journey, and an early arrival at his 
 chosen summer paradise by lake or sea, in the deep forest or among 
 the ancient lowland villages. 
 
 Running out of the suburbs of Portland, on the left one of the 
 largest ice-houses in the world is seen across the river. At the junction 
 station the Boston & Maine Railroad crosses the line ; and farther out 
 the Portland & Rochester Railroad is intersected'. The line swings 
 around the base of Bramhall Hill, the aristocratic quarter of Portland, 
 covered with imposing villas and public buildings, and rising from the 
 plain with a picturesque abruptness which almost suggests Quebec 
 Woodford's Corner is a pretty suburban village, — a sort of Eastern 
 Longwood, — with the homes of many Portland merchants and clerks, 
 along the highlands and towards the cove, looking out on the bay be- 
 yond. On the left, long visible fiom the train, rises Blackstrap Hill, a 
 
 (13) 
 
14 Stcmmer Days Down East. 
 
 famous landmark along the coast, with a tall tower of the United 
 States Coast Survey marking its loftiest point. It reaches a height of 
 five hundred and one feet, and commands a very extensive view. 
 
 Falmouth station is a mile and a half from Falmouth, on the shore, 
 five miles from Portland; and all along the Forcside rise summer 
 cottages and boarding-houses, favored by families from Upper Canada. 
 Off-shore are the thronging islands of Casco Bay, " the fairest dimple 
 on Ocean's cheek," stretching along the picturesque coasts to the east- 
 ward, and full of infinite variety and perennial charm. As early as the 
 year 1822 Capt. Porter ran the steamer Kennebec among these islands, 
 and to Yarmouth. It was an old flat-bottomed boat, with a battered 
 engine, and the people about the bay called it the Horned Hog. 
 
 Crossing the Presumpscot River, the outlet of Sebago Lake, on 
 an iron bridge of a single span, the little station of West Falmouth is 
 soon reached. On the shores of Casco Bay, to the eastward, is the 
 long-drawn-out settlement of Falmouth Foreside, a favorite suburb of 
 Portland, and lined with substantial old farm-houses and the handsome 
 villas of Portland gentlemen. Here also dwell many retired sea-cap- 
 tains, anchored among the orchards and cornfields, but keeping a 
 weather-eye open, through their eastern windows, over the bright waves 
 of the bay. This region was settled as early as 1632, and suffered 
 terribly from Indian attacks. In 1703 Governor Dudley, of Massachu- 
 setts, came here in regal state, and held a council with Bomasecn and 
 ten other powerful sagamores, accompanied by two hundred and fifty 
 well-armed and richly-arrayed Indian warriors. A few weeks later 
 Queen Anne's War broke out, and the little fort here was besieged by 
 five hundred French soldiers and Indian braves, under M. Beaubassin 
 and the great chief Assacombuit, whom Louis XIV. had knighted at 
 Versailles. After six days of battle, and when the enemy was on the 
 eve of winning the fort, a Provincial war-vessel came to the relief, and 
 drove away the hostile league with her artillery. Everything outside 
 the fort — farms, cattle, buildings — all was destroyed by the pitiless 
 enemy. 
 
 At Cumberland station, near the ancient Congregational village of 
 Cumberland Centre, the railroad forks, dividing into what are called 
 the upper and lower, or eastern and western, or main and back routes, 
 
Brunswick and Harpswell. 1 5 
 
 one of them running through Lewiston, Winthrop, and Belgrade, and 
 the other through Brunswick and Augusta. These two routes unite at 
 Waterville, about seventy miles from Cumberland. The Augusta line 
 ruub east from Cumberland and crosses the Royal River, after which it 
 intersects the Grand Trunk Railway at Yarmouth Junction. This region 
 was settled, about the time Boston was, by John Phillips, a Welshman ; 
 and in 1688, after some gallant fighting, the entire population fled 
 from the French and Indian allies, who totally destroyed the place. As 
 late as the year 1746 these vengeful raiders made determined attacks 
 on the local forts. 
 
 The next station is Freeport, near the charming old village of 
 Freeport Corner, in one of the Casco-Bay towns, once famous for its 
 ship-building, but now sleeping soundly among its immemorial elms, 
 amid a country like paradise. Close by, on the south, are the mazy 
 islands and labyrinthine straits of the bay, affording scenery of rare and 
 unusual attractiveness. In this seashore town Dr. Cyrus A. Bartol was 
 born, away back in 181 3. 
 
 Beyond Freeport the line passes Oak Hill on the right, and enters 
 the long, sandy plain of Brunswick, between rich forests of Norway 
 pine. 
 
 BRUNSWICK AND HARPSWELL. 
 
 Brunswick rests quietly on the plain at the confluence of the 
 Androscoggin and Kennebec Rivers, around the noble falls on the 
 former river, where the rushing waters rage downward through a fret- 
 ting environment of granite ledges, falling forty-one feet in a third of a 
 mile. Half a century ago there were thirty saw-mills here, and the 
 Narrows below were lined with ship-yards ; but now the chief manufact- 
 uring is done by the Cabot Company, whose cotton mills employ 500 
 hands. The town has nearly 6,000 inhabitants, with eight churches, 
 twenty-five schools, and two newspapers. It is even more interesting 
 to know that the scenery in the adjacent country-side is very pretty, in- 
 somuch that the veracious " Gazetteer " claims that it "affords more 
 
1 6 Szunmer Days Down East. 
 
 pleasing drives than any other town in New England." Let Newport 
 and Stockbridge, North Conway and Stowe, be magnanimous. At any 
 rate Brunswick has its full share of summer visitors, pleased with the 
 quiet refinement of an old college town, and delighting in the beautiful 
 roads which ramble out over these dry and sandy plains, among the 
 pine forests and the deep-cut bays. Harriet Beecher Stowe, who 
 lived here for many years, speaks rapturously of the adjacent sea, say- 
 ing: "The site of Brunswick is a sandy plain, on which the college 
 buildings seem to have been dropped for the good old Yankee economic 
 reason of using land for public buildings that could not be used for 
 anything else. The soil was a fathomless depth of dry, sharp, barren 
 sand, out of whose bosom nothing could emerge without superhuman 
 efforts at cultivation. But these sandy plains, these pine forests, were 
 neighbors to the great, lively, musical, blue ocean, whose life-giving 
 presence made itself seen, heard, and felt every hour of the day and 
 night. The beautiful peculiarity of the Maine coast, where the sea 
 interpenetrates the land in picturesque fiords and lakes, brought a 
 constant romantic element into the landscape. White-winged ships 
 from India or China came gliding into the lonely solitude of forest 
 recesses, bringing news froni strange lands and tidings of wild 
 adventure into secluded farm-houses that for the most part seemed to 
 be dreaming in woodland solitude." 
 
 Bowdoin College stands on an elevated plain, not far from the 
 railway station, and in the vicinity of beautiful and sombre pine groves. 
 It is one of the foremost colleges of New England, bearing date of 
 1794, and named in honor of James Bowdoin, Governor of Massachu- 
 setts at that time. The State of Massachusetts endowed it with five 
 townships in Piscataquis County, and Governor Bowdoin's son gave 
 it other rich grants of land, with large collections of minerals, philo- 
 sophical apparatus, paintings, and books. So the descendants of old 
 Pierre Baudoin, the Huguenot gentleman-emigrant from La Rochclle, 
 enriched the college which honors their name. There are here upwartls 
 of one hundred and thirty paintings, some of which are attributed to 
 Teniers, Rubens, Van Dyck, Poussin, Hogarth, and other famous 
 masters. This pretentious and really interesting gallciy, together 
 with the handsomely frescoed chapel, is in a conspicuous twin-spired 
 
Brunswick and Harpswell. 1 7 
 
 building, in the line of college halls. Memorial Hall was built in 1868, 
 to commemorate the valor of the Bowdoin boys who died in the Seces- 
 sion War. The funds gave out, however, when the walls and roof were 
 finished, and the great shell of a building served as a gymnasium until 
 1882, when Valeria Stone, of Maiden, gave $25,000 for its completion. 
 It is a handsome Gothic building of granite, about one hundred feet 
 long, and mainly occupied by a large and richly-decorated hall, 
 abounding in frescoes, brasses, and stained windows. 
 
 Bowdoin is now highly prosperous, and has nearly two hundred 
 and fifty students in its academical and medical schools. The library 
 contains nearly 40,000 volumes, ancient and modern, with Assyrian 
 sculptures, old English furniture, and a fine collection of statuary. On 
 the outer walls hang the class ivies, — planted in high hilarity, and 
 beheld in later years with grave solemnity. Cleaveland Hall honors 
 the name of the venerable Prof. Parker Cleaveland, and enshrines 
 myriads of minerals and other dusty specimens in natural history, the 
 dry and inevitable concomitants of the higher education. 
 
 The President's house is now occupied by President Joshua L. 
 
 Chamberlain, a division commander in the Army of the Potomac (and 
 
 six times wounded), and for four years Governor of Maine. About 
 
 fifty years ago Longfellow brought to this house his young bride, and 
 
 dwelt here with her in great peace. The two rooms over the library 
 
 were the peculiar property of the poet, and here still remains the 
 
 ancient fireplace referred to in his lines: — 
 
 " Shadows of the fitful firelight 
 Dance upon the parlor wall." 
 
 In 1875, in his celebrated poem of Morituri Sahctamns, which he 
 delivered at Brunswick, he thus spoke : — 
 
 " O ye familiar scenes, — ye groves of pine, 
 That once were mine, and are no longer mine, — 
 Thou river, Avidening through the meadows green 
 To the vast sea, so near and yet unseen, — 
 Ye halls, in whose seclusion and repose 
 Phantoms of fame, like exhalations, rose 
 And vanished, — we who are about to die 
 Salute you; earth, and air, and sea, and sky. 
 And the imperial sun that scatters down 
 His sovereign splendors upon grove and town." 
 
1 8 Siinirner Days Down East, 
 
 In one single class, that of 1825, Bowdoin gave enough notables to 
 the world to tenfold warrant its existence. In this galaxy were 
 Congressmen Cilley, Benson, and Sawtelle ; United-States Senator 
 Bradbury; Cheever, Greenleaf, and Shepley, the divines; Commodore 
 Bridge; Abbot, the historian, Longfellow, and Hawthorne. The last- 
 named gives a pleasant little picture of their life "at a country college, — 
 gathering blueberries in study-hours under those tall, academic pines, or 
 watching the great logs as they tumbled along the current of the 
 Androscoggin; or shooting pigeons and gray squirrels in the woods, cr 
 bat-fowling in the summer twilight, or catching trout in that shadowy 
 little stream, which, I suppose, is still wandering riverward through the 
 forest." The sylvan haunt of trout is now known as Hawthorne Brook. 
 As General Chamberlain recently said, Bowdoin has given to the repubhc 
 a president, twenty-two senators and representatives in Congress, 
 fourteen judges of high courts, nine governors of States, and eighteen 
 college presidents. 
 
 Mere Point, perhaps named Pointe de la Mer by ancient French 
 settlers, or else deriving its title from John Mare, one of its earliest 
 settlers, is a very picturesque peninsula running down into Maquoit and 
 Casco Bays, and recently attaining notice as a summer resort. 
 
 In ancient times the Indians called the Brunswick region Pcjcpscot^ 
 which means "Where Angry Waters Gush," or, as others say "Crooked, 
 like a running snake." The Council of Plymouth laid claim to the do- 
 main, and under their patent the adventurous Thomas Purchas took pos- 
 session before 1628, but placed himself under the protection of Winthrop 
 as soon as Massachusetts was founded. Purchas married the cousin of 
 Sir Christopher Gardiner, the Knight of the Holy Sepulchre, who was 
 banished from Boston, but afterwards returned to Pcjepscot, where he 
 dwelt with his kinsman, and plotted vengeance on the Puritans. But 
 Purchas was too busy with his salmon and sturgeon fisheries, and in 
 keeping the Indians away from his little stone castle, to help out the 
 schemes of his knightly guest. Richard Wharton, a Boston merchant, 
 afterwards bought the domain from Purchas's heirs, and got also (in 
 1684) a quitclaim of the same region from Worumbo and other Indian 
 chiefs ; and from him it passed into the hands of a party of Boston specu- 
 lators, calling themselves the Pejepscot Proprietors, from whom (and 
 
Brunswick and Harp swell. 19 
 
 from Gen. Waldo, who bought out a small reserve held by the Purchas 
 heirs) the present titles are derived. In ancient times this locality 
 witnessed many a murderous attack and dreary siege. The Indians 
 destroyed the colony in 1676, and again in 1690, — the fort erected in 
 1688 by Sir Edmund Andros failing to protect the village. Fort 
 Andros was occupied by the savages, and then wrested from them by 
 expeditions of Massachusetts militia. In 1715 Fort George was erected 
 to protect the town, but it served little purpose a few years later, during 
 Lovewell's War, when the vengeful red men a third time laid the village 
 in ashes in retaliation for the attack on Norridgewock. In 1727 the 
 locality was once more reoccupied by the indomitable colonists, and 
 the town which they founded still endures. The last hostile foray of 
 the Indians occurred in 1757; and one of their most redoubtable war- 
 chiefs, Sabattis, visited Brunswick early in the present century to see 
 the fields over which he had fought so long before. Besides the forts, 
 the ancient settlement was defended by a dozen thick-walled and loop- 
 holed garrison-houses, all of which have long since disappeared. The 
 oldest building now standing is the Robert Thompson house, near 
 Cook's Corner, a massive wainscoted structure dating from about the 
 year 1735. The Hinkley house (now Weston's) was built before 1770, 
 and there are several others of equal antiquity, the most interesting of 
 which are the Old Red House, two miles beyond Topsham, the Horace 
 Toothaker house (built in 1757), on Harpswell Neck, and the massive 
 gambrel-roofed house on Orr's Island, built by Joseph Orr in 1756. 
 
 In the old days bears abounded in this region, and wolves were so 
 numerous that their bowlings made the night hideous, and many a 
 lonely pioneer was chased into his hut by them. Foxes and squirrels, 
 rabbits, minks, and muskrats are plentiful, and within twenty-five years 
 deer and caribou have been seen about Brunswick. 
 
 The beautiful town of Harpswell lies to the southward, with its 
 wonderful peninsulas and islands, embalmed in the best literature of 
 New England. Harriet Beecher Stovve says that the scenery here is of 
 more varied and singular beauty than can ordinarily be found on the 
 shores of any land whatever ... A constant succession of pictures, 
 whose wild and solitary beauty entirely distances all power of descrip- 
 tion. The magnificence of the evergreen forests, the rich intermingling 
 
20 Swnvier Days Dotvn East. 
 
 ever and anon of groves of birch, beech, and oak, in picturesque knots 
 and tufts, as if set for effect by some skilful landscape gardener, pro- 
 duce a sort of strange, dreamy wonder; while the sea, breaking forth 
 on the right hand and on the left of the road, into the most romantic 
 glimpses, seems to flash and glitter like some strange gem which every 
 moment shows itself through the framework of a new setting." The. 
 scene of " The Pearl of Orr's Island," Mrs. Stowe's best novel, is laid 
 on one of the Harpswell islands; and the "Elm Island" of Elijah 
 Kellogg's stories is Ragged Island, which lies out in the ocean, off Harps- 
 well. Whittier's weird poem of "The Dead Ship of Harpswell " is 
 already classic : — 
 
 " From gray sea-fog, from icy drift, 
 From peril, and from pain, 
 The home-bound fisher greets thy lights, 
 O hundred-harbored Maine ! " 
 
 Stages run from Brunswick down the peninsula, and past many 
 points where summer visitors throng, attracted by the quaint beauty and 
 romantic charm of this archipelago town. The peninsula is twelve 
 miles long and about a mile wide. Eight miles from Brunswick, be- 
 yond the broad pine plains, is North Harpswell ; and five miles beyond 
 is West Harpswell, with its two churches. Two miles farther out rise 
 the fishermen's cottages and summer-hotels, on the point, in full view 
 of the sea. Three hundred people live on Orr's Island (three miles by 
 one in area), a mile from the shore, and joined to Great Island by a 
 rickety bridge. Twenty years ago, the gathering of clams was a great in- 
 dustry at Harpswell, and 2,500 barrels have been sent hence in a single 
 year. There are now half-a-dozen large dealers in fish here, sending off 
 about 20,000 quintals yearly. 
 
 There are many old houses hereabouts, and older traditions, which 
 even the great thousand-page " History of Brunswick, Topsham, and 
 Harpswell," published in 1878, has failed to record. During the Revo- 
 lution a picturesque marine guerilla warfare was carried on among the 
 islands, between Tory, Provincial, and British boats and the local min- 
 ute-men. In 1775 the enemy was beaten off in an attack on Condy's 
 Harbor, by antique wall-pieces and swivels, handled by the Harpswell 
 militia. 
 
Top sham, Bowdoinham, and Richmond. 2 1 
 
 A branch line of railway extends from Brunswick 9 miles eastward to 
 Bath, and another line runs 6}i miles northward to Farmington, passing 
 through Leeds and Livermore, and connecting for Lewiston. These 
 routes are described farther on. (See the Index.) 
 
 TOPSHAM, BOWDOINHAM, AND RICHMOND. 
 
 The eastern-bound trains cross the Androscoggin River at Bruns- 
 wick, and stop at the sister village of Topsham, near the great falls, 
 and delighting in factories. The early history of this peaceful town 
 was dark with terrible tragedies, for the first three families of settlers 
 were massacred by the Indians. One family, living at Fulton's Point, 
 was destroyed while its head was out in search of provisions, and when 
 he returned to the ashes of his home all was lost. Gyles and his wife, 
 while harvesting corn in their field, fell under the shot of concealed 
 savages, and their children were led into captivity. But these victims 
 of the heathen were succeeded by a colony of grim Scotch-Irishmen, — 
 Presbyterians in creed, and heroes in heart, — and the savages, mis- 
 liking these sturdy G^lic men, drew back into the northern woods. 
 
 The train runs northward through the long and level township of 
 Bowdoinham, which was granted by Sir Ferdinando Gorges to Sir 
 Richard Edgecomb, of Mount Edgecomb, in 1637. But the Bowdoins 
 of Boston secured a grant of the domain from the Plymouth proprie- 
 tors, and then bought the land from Abagadusset, the Indian chieftain 
 of this region, whose royal lodge stood on the river-swept point which 
 still bears his name. When the conflicting Edgecomb and Bowdoin 
 claims were laid before the courts, about the year 1760, 'the latter won 
 the day, and the town took the name of its patrician proprietors. On 
 the east lies the great lake-like expanse at the junction of the Andros- 
 coggin and Kennebec Rivers, known as Merry-meeting Bay, and, in ages 
 long gone by, famous for the massacres along its shores, perpetrated by 
 hostile Indian bands, when the pioneer families of white settlers were 
 bloodily exterminated. After Fort Richmond's battlements gave 
 
22 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 defence to the valley, Bowdoinham was firmly settled, and became the 
 seat of a large (and now somnolent) ship-building industry. Of late 
 years the ice business has become very important, and thousands of 
 tons of frozen Kennebec are shipped hence every year. Across the bay 
 rise the rolling hills of Woolwich and Dresden, and on the west are the 
 granite highlands of Bowdoin. In the dim antiquity of 1649 Christo- 
 pher Lawson bought all this Richmond country from its Indian lords, 
 and just seventy years later Fort Richmond was built, within the present 
 village limits, and remained as a guard to the settlements below until 
 1754, when a new line of fortifications was erected farther up the valley. 
 When the shallops and vessels of the first European explorers entered 
 the river. Swan Island (then bearing some melodious and interminable 
 aboriginal name) was the capital of the lower Kennebec valley, and here 
 dwelt the gallant sachem, Sebenoa. During William and Mary's War, in 
 1692, Colonel Church led a little army of Massachusetts troops up the 
 river, and defeated the Indians at this point. 
 
 Dresden lies on the east bank of the Kennebec, and its low hills and 
 dark woods are often seen as the train runs north across Richmond, two 
 miles from which, up the water (by a ferry), is the hamlet of West 
 Dresden. Here stands the ancient court-house of Lincoln County, now 
 well over a century old, and with furniture and fireplaces of equal 
 antiquity. Here occurred the first hanging in Maine, when a terrible 
 murder was avenged by the strong hand of the offended law. This 
 town was in the territory purchased of the Indians by the ambitious 
 Christopher Lawson, and sold by him to Clark and Lake, the ante- 
 diluvian land speculators. The latter endeavored to live on his new 
 domain; but the Indians cancelled his title by putting him to death, and 
 an aristocratic kinsman. Sir Biby Lake, came into possession. It was 
 as dangerous a piece of property as a landed estate in Ireland is in the 
 last quarter of the nineteenth century, and the good English knight 
 contented himself with barren ownership, and did not take possession. 
 To prevent further Indian intrusions (and thus to reduce, the local 
 death-rate) a formidable fortress was erected, and named Fort Shirley, 
 in honor of the Governor of Massachusetts. Here Major Sam Good- 
 win lay in garrison, with a band of tough Provincials, until the Con- 
 quest of Canada removed all danger from the heads of these fair 
 
Topsham, Bowdoinham, and Richmond. 23 
 
 valleys. Three brothers by the name of Gushing settled here after the 
 fort was dismantled, and became leaders among the Kennebec pioneers. 
 Afterwards a number of the Saxon immigrants whom Gen. Waldo had 
 brought from Europe made their homes here, and the locality naturally 
 received the name of DRESDEN, after the capital of their country. 
 Still later there came to the place the gallant Major Polereczky, a 
 veteran officer of Rochani beau's army, who received the proud office 
 of town-clerk, and thus ruled the records of the little republic for fifteen 
 years. 
 
 Richmond is a pretty river village, with long and rural streets, over- 
 arch-^d with elms and maples, and occupied here and there by small 
 factories. Along the Kennebec extend the great ship-yards, abounding 
 in shavings and chips, and overlooked by gaunt stagings from which 
 many a fleet ocean-racer has slipped away into its destined element. 
 
 Ship-building began here more than fifty years ago, when Israel 
 Washburn (the father of E. B. Washburn, Gen. C. C. Washburn, and 
 Gov. Israel Washburn) built the Poclntinnnus, to carry cord-wood to 
 Boston, and bring back supplies of all kinds. This was, at that early 
 day, the great cord-wood mart of the East, upon which Boston was 
 largely dependent. But ship-building supplanted this more primitive 
 trade, and by the year 1 854 a dozen vessels were on the stocks here at 
 once. Many of the famous Kennebec-built clipper ships were launched 
 from these yards, thereafter to sail around the world on remote and 
 venturous voyages. If you stroll up Pleasant street, in this village of 
 Richmond, you will see dozens of snug houses ov/ned and occupied by 
 retired sea-captains, who have chosen Richmond in preference to any 
 of the tropical paradises to which the wide blue seas and humming 
 trade-winds carried their fleet ships. Since the strangulation of 
 American commerce the little village has utilized the neighboring 
 river in another way, — by quarrying its ice in winter, and sending it 
 away to the great cities down the coast. The ice aristocracy now holds 
 its head high in the town, and yields no precedence to the wealthy 
 shoe-manufacturers, whose factories find welcome work for hundreds of 
 people. In summer, when the three local hotels and the various village 
 boardirlg-houses are fairly occupied by visitors from the cities, many a 
 cheery excursion starts out from the embowered streets, riding a league 
 
24 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 or so westward through a lovely farmhig country, to Cobbossee Contee 
 Pond, windhig among the grassy hills ; or emulating the search for the 
 Fountain of Youth, at the Richmond Mineral Spring; or following the 
 pretty river roads, with long vistas up and down the stream. Others 
 may sail across the river to the quaint little town of Perkins, which is 
 composed of the level and fertile Swan Island, with its eighty inhabi- 
 tants and its $40,000 worth of estates. It is a town with neither church 
 nor post-office, doctor, lawyer, nor clergyman, and so the inhabitants 
 lead long and peaceful lives, and do their own right efficient praying. 
 
 The Richmond Mineral Spring flows forth in a romantic little glade 
 a quarter of a mile from the village, and has a great local fame for its 
 efficacy in curing severe chronic diseases. It is a remarkably pure 
 and transparent water, slightly alkaline. The proprietors of the spring 
 send out a pamphlet full of quaint rustic testimonials, and a hotel is 
 about to be erected near by. 
 
 Northward rushes the railway train from Richmond, past the 
 station where people alight for the Dresden camp-meeting; past the 
 little flag-station of Iceboro', where may be seen the largest ice-house 
 in the world ; and onward into Gardiner. For an hour and a half the 
 route lies close beside the river, with line after line of rolling highlands 
 sloping away, at fine landscape distance, and making a charming 
 background for the restless waters below. Here and there are groves 
 and thickets, sometimes even extensive forests of rich dark-green 
 foliage, making bold and effective contrasts with the steel-gray or dark- 
 blue of the Kennebec and the neutral tints of the farm lands. The 
 Susquehanna is sweet and feminine, like its name; the Hudson is 
 Europeanized, a practical Western Rhine; the Mississippi slips slowly 
 down through thousands of miles of long-drawn lowlands; the Kenne- 
 bec, in its strong syllables, exemplifies its rude northern strength and 
 dash, suggesting the tinkling of its forest tributaries, with the sound of 
 the ice-pick and the woodman's axe. On this lower and navigable ten 
 leagues, from Brunswick to Augusta, the deficiency of the scenery in 
 grandeur or richness is counterbalanced by a certain mellow beauty, 
 full of tranquillity and power to soothe. Now and then great rafts of 
 logs drift by, manned by tall and active lumbermen ; or trim coasting 
 vessels, laden low with crystalline ice ; or white steamboats, crowded 
 
Gardiner. 25 
 
 with merry-making travellers bound for the sea and its islands: or 
 lonely skiffs, mere dots on the wide and glistening waters. On the 
 further shores appear occasional glimpses of white villages, the spires 
 of little rural churches, a rosary of farm-houses clearly relieved 
 against the green hills, far-extending ice-houses with many a rocking 
 mast and spar outlined before them, the green lateral glens of inflowing 
 streamlets, and the graceful highlands stretching far and clear under the 
 bright sky of the North. It seems a land of endless peace, in which it 
 is always afternoon. Through this still Arcadia the train speeds away, 
 and at least reaches Gardiner, the city of ice. 
 
 GARDINER. 
 
 Gardiner is a city, with the population of a village, and the institu- 
 tions of a great town. It is a third of a century since it received a city 
 charter, but the population has not yet reached 5,000 souls, and 
 may never do so, since it has fewer inhabitants now than in i860 or 
 1870. Nevertheless, it possesses a right brisk business street, with long 
 brick blocks, busy stores, banks, two newspaper offices, several hotels, 
 and lines of sidewalk posts at which the drowsy horses of the country 
 farmers are often tethered. Above, on the heights, is a pleasant public 
 square, containing the soldiers' monument, and surrounded by the High 
 School, the stone church of the Episcopalians, and the humbler fanes 
 of the Roman Catholics, Congregationalists, and Baptists. This is on 
 Church Hill, one hundred and twenty-five feet above the river, and the 
 park was given to the people by Mr. R. H. Gardiner. 
 
 To the north is the narrow valley of the Cobbossee Contee stream, 
 which, within a mile of its confluence with the Kennebec, descends one 
 hundred and twenty-seven feet, in eight falls, most of which arc improved 
 by substantial stone dams. This downward plunge of the waters of 
 Cobbossee Contee Pond, from its high and sunny plateau to the low 
 tidal levels, is Gardi.ner's reason for existence; for on the hydraulic 
 
26 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 power thus created are several factories for paper-making and other 
 works, saw-mills, grist-mills, and machine-shops, the annual product of 
 them all being over $2,000,000. In the summer of 1882 all this 
 manufacturing district was burned over, but better buildings soon rose 
 from the ruins; for the water-power (now mainly owned by the 
 Gardiner family) has lately been augmented and made unfailing by 
 the purchase of several storage-ponds, and ranks among the best in 
 New England. The paper-mills turn out thirteen tons of paper daily. 
 The Oakland Manufacturing Company produces (among other articles) 
 immense numbers of base-ball bats and bed-slats, and also 600,000 
 broomsticks yearl)', which are exported to Australia, New Zealand, 
 South Africa, England, and other foreign countries, to promote that 
 cleanliness which ranks next to the noblest virtue. 
 
 Along the river-front there are many wharves, where much ado is 
 made in loading lumber and ice, and unloading coal. One of these is 
 the pier of the Star of the East, a venerable steamer which plies to and 
 fro between this port and Boston, and connects here with a smaller 
 steamboat for Hallowell and Augusta. Near by is the ancient toll- 
 bridge across the Kennebec, nine hundred feet long, and good for 
 $9,000 a year in tolls. The merchants of Gardiner make frequent en- 
 deavors to have the bridge declared free, since the matter of the toll, small 
 as it is, causes many of the farmers beyond to seek other towns for their 
 trading. A cent from a footman, ninepcnce from a carriage, is the 
 inexorable tollman's meed. On the further shore is the pretty village 
 of Pittston, once famous for its skilful ship-builders. The Grace Cush- 
 iiig, the last vessel built here, was launched in 1871, and now nothing 
 remains of the ancient yards but dry chips and dryer traditions. 
 
 The shores near Gardiner, and for many miles below, are studded 
 with huge ice-houses, largely the jjropcrty of powerful companies of 
 New- York capitalists. One dollar a ton pays for putting up, housing, 
 and shipping the ice, and hundreds of thousands of tons are thus 
 harvested every year. Eor miles on miles these monstrous ice-houses 
 extend, on both sides of the river ; and during the shipping season 
 fleets of fine vessels (largely three-masted schooners) are moored at 
 their wharves. The river is more valuable than its shores, and its 
 frozen film has more worth than the products of its valley. Year after 
 
Gardiner, 27 
 
 year new and greater houses are erected, in which to*store this precious 
 fragment of the Kennebec waters ; and larger and larger fleets sail up 
 the placid stream. The ice-crop of the winter of 1882-83 reached 
 nearly 700,000 tons, and employed the services of 3,000 sturdy 
 harvesters for thirty days. Nearly half of this quantity came from 
 the waters near Gardiner and Hallowell. . The operation of loading a 
 vessel with ice is full of interest and excitement. Each cake of ice is 
 kept on the run from the "time it is cut out of the half-unified mass in 
 the cold, black caverns of the ice-house until it is stowed in the hold 
 of the vessel lying alongside. A gioup of men with picks run it out 
 to the inclined plane leading to the deck, and others stationed at various 
 points below urge it on with their picks, until, flying over the scales 
 which register its weight, the crystal square descends on the vessel, and 
 is seized by iron dogs, and swung into the hold. This journey is made 
 amid a perfect babel of shoutings and gibberings from the workmen, 
 coruscating with ingenious and complicated oaths. 
 
 About the year 1670 a gallant fellow named Alexander Brown came 
 up to the green meadows on the Pittston shore, which the Indians then 
 called by the terrifying name of Kcrdoornicorp, and made himself a 
 farm. He also got great profit by catching the sturgeon, which then 
 swam up and down the stream, and sending them to the London market, 
 where they were much prized at Billingsgate. This thrifty commerce 
 was brought to a dread close in 1676, when the Indians made a foray 
 down the valley and slew the slayer of sturgeon before his burning 
 house. Fifty years after Brown's death, Dr. Noyes, of Boston, the agent 
 of the Kennebec proprietors, built a fort on the shore, not far from 
 Nahumkeag Island ; but this, too, was destroyed by the red lords of the 
 soil. After 1754, when Fort Halifax was built, up the river, Dr. Syl- 
 vester Gardiner, of Boston, a wealthy physician and importer of drugs, 
 began the development of the plans which resulted in his acquisition of 
 most of the territory hereabouts, and its settlement by immigrants, 
 many of whom came direct from Falmouth, England. The river was 
 then bordered by groves of white and red oak, which was cut down and 
 sent to England, while the spruce and ash on the hills sought a market 
 at Boston, where the lumber from the Kennebec Purchase found place 
 in the rising mansions of the shipping merchants. The town-meetings 
 
28 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 were held in the otd "church-house," or Episcopal church; and Gen. 
 Henry Dearborn, the United-States Marshal for Maine, Hved on the site 
 of the Gardiner Bank, and ordered many an unruly vagabond to the whip- 
 ping-post. Benjamin Shaw was the constable and executioner; and the 
 culprits of those early days had such a wholesome fear of his strong arm 
 that, when he wished to arrest one, he sent his jack-knife to the hapless 
 varlet, in the surety that he would return it in person, and abide the 
 law's verdict. Dearborn first passed the scene of his primitive reign in 
 1775, when, a young soldier, he ascended the Kennebec with Arnold's 
 army of Virginia, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts volunteers. In later 
 years he commanded the American armies invading Canada, in 1812, 
 and was United-States minister to the court of Portugal. 
 
 Dr. Gardiner was a Tory, and fled to Halifax with the British gar- 
 rison of Boston ; but his heirs saved- the estate from confiscation, and 
 erected a great black marble cenotaph to his memory, in the Episcopal 
 church at Gardiner. His son William inherited the domain hereabouts, 
 and is buried under the church. Another son, John, "^ome time Attor- 
 ney-General in the British West Indies, became one of the founders of 
 Unitarianism in Boston, and was the father of John Sylvester John 
 Gardiner, rector of Trinity Church, Boston. Oakland Place, the hand- 
 some granite mansion of the Gardiners, built in 1836, and still held by 
 the family, is near the river, about a mile from the centre of the city. 
 It was characterized in Downing's book, as '' the most remarkable seat 
 in Maine, as respects landscape gardening and architecture." 
 
 Four miles out, on the Brunswick road, is Libbey Hill, command- 
 ing a famous view over the lakes and forests and farms of the Kenne- 
 bec valley. On a clear day the glimmer of the White Mountains may 
 be perceived, far away in the west; and more to the northward rise the 
 nearer peaks of Saddleback and Mount Blue. Pleasant drives also lead 
 to the bright waters of Cobbossee Contee Pond, and out across the 
 Kennebec to the Soldiers' Home of New England, the military asylum 
 at Togus Springs. 
 
 It is a short four miles from Gardiner to its little sister city. Hallo- 
 well, famous for fine granite. The train crosses the Cobbossee Contee 
 just above Gardiner, and then runs close along the Kennebec for a 
 league, past huge ice-houses, at whose wharves lies many a three- 
 
Hallowell. 29 
 
 masted schooner, and past several booms, in whicn myriads of logs are 
 collected. The lumber business still maintains great proportions, 
 although it would seem as if the forests of entire empires had already 
 been felled and drifted down the Maine rivers. In i88l, 150,000,000 
 feet of lumber came down the Kennebec alone, and in 1883 there were 
 upwards of 110,000.000 feet. If the snow lies right, and the spring- 
 rains are copious, the drive starts about the first of May, and reaches 
 Augusta and Hallowell in July or August. In the 1883 drive there 
 were 1,000,000 feet each from Attean Pond, Moose River, and Cold 
 Stream; 7,000,000 from Dead River; 3,000,000 from Moxie Stream ; 
 and other large supplies from Brassua Lake, Parlin Pond, and remoter 
 out-of-the-way nooks of the wilderness. 
 
 HALLOWELL. 
 
 Clattering past the cliff-like sides of the ice-houses, and whirling 
 swiftly around the river bluffs, the train soon reaches the famous river- 
 port of Hallowell, small in population, but great in energy and enter- 
 prise. 
 
 The first settler in this town was Deacon Pease Clark, who came 
 up hither from Attleborough, Massachusetts, in 1754. 
 
 In 1 77 1 the town was incorporated, and took its name from 
 Robert Hallowell, a great landowner in these parts, who died at 
 Gardiner, in 181 8, aged eighty. Robert's brother, Benjamin Hallowell, 
 was commissioner of the Royal revenue at Boston, and when the Revo- 
 lution broke out he fled, and his estate was confiscated. This gentle- 
 man's daughter married Benjamin Vaughan, a young Jamaican who had 
 graduated at English Cambridge, and studied law at the Temple, and 
 medicine at the University of Edinburgh. The first stood him in good 
 stead when he was elected to Parliament and became a leader of the 
 Whig party ; and the medical study was made a blessing to all his poor 
 and distressed neighbors for many years. During the French Revo- 
 
30 Sujnnier Days Down East. 
 
 lution he became politically compromised, and was forced to flee to 
 France, and thence to Maine, where he found repose on the domain of 
 his wife's uncle, Robert Hallowell. Vast was the influence of this 
 cultivated gentleman upon the infant State. His noble library was a 
 well-spring of learning in a literary desert ; from his nursery of fruit- 
 trees sprang half the orchards in the upper Kennebec valley; and the 
 Vaughan farm was noted for its rare imported cattle. His eff"orts were 
 aided by his brother Charles, and by the learned John Merrick, his 
 brother-in-law, who lived until 1861. In this happy valley of Maine 
 Dr. Vaughan lived for forty years, devoting himself to study and author- 
 ship, benevolence, and works of public service, and entertaining scores 
 of eminent guests, scholars, and philanthropists from all over the 
 world, who came hither to commune with "The rural Socrates." 
 Among these was Talleyrand, prime minister of France under Louis 
 Philippe, who once fell into Vaughan Stream, and got a good ducking 
 withal. His visit occurred in 1794, and he was accompanied by Louis 
 Philippe, afterwards king of France. For many years Hallowell had a 
 considerable shipping and export trade, and the Vaughan family 
 endeavored to secure for it the commerce of the upper Connecticut 
 valley by having a road surveyed to Gorham. But the undertaking 
 was too great for those days, and the subsequent construction of rail- 
 roads took away most of the business of the little port, and left it to 
 depend on its own granite hills for support. 
 
 Jacob Abbott, the author of the RoUo books and many other 
 popular works, was born at Hallowell, where he and his brother, John 
 S. C. Abbott (the biographer of Napoleon), lived for many years. 
 Gen. O. O. Howard, also, was for a long time a resident. The old 
 Vaughan spirit still lingers here, and its manifestations appear in the 
 well-equipped Classical and Scientific Academy, in the beautiful charity 
 of the Maine Industrial School for Girls, and in the Social Library, 
 established in a handsome Gothic building of white granite, with 
 polished red granite columns and carved oaken doors. There are, also, 
 half-a-dozen churches, a newspaper, and three banks, for a population 
 of a little over 3,000, and a valuation of $i,6oo,000. The site of the 
 little city is attractive, being a curving hill-side, which rises over a bay- 
 like broadening of the Kennebec, and is adorned with very many waving 
 
Augusta. 31 
 
 trees, some of which date from the remote days when the locaHty was 
 known only as " The Hook." 
 
 The Hallovvell granite is nearly white, and very hard, yet capable 
 of assuming beautiful forms under the chisel. Among the recent 
 products of these quarries are the colossal statue of Education (forty 
 feet high) for the Pilgrims' Monument at Plymouth, the w^w Board of 
 Trade Building at Chicago (now under construction), the Boston 
 Soldiers' Monument, the Sphinx at Mount Auburn, the Douglas Tomb 
 at Chicago, the Yorktown Monument, the new Capitol at Albany, and 
 many other famous monuments and buildings at Detroit, St. Louis, and 
 elsewhere. One hundred and twenty men are kept at work in the 
 ledges west of the city, and the annual product is upwards of $350,000, 
 much of which is devoted to monumental work, the carving being 
 entrusted to skilful Italian sculptors. The models are first made in 
 clay, and then reproduced in plaster, from which the carvers work. 
 The gran,ite is polished by moistened emery powder, which is pressed 
 against it by a revolving iron disk. 
 
 Among the other interesting manufactures of Hallowell are the 
 sand-paper works, where powdered quartz is sprinkled upon and pressed 
 into glued brown paper ; the large oil-cloth factories ; and the wire- 
 works, where Bessem.er iron rods are drawn out in a solution of rye- 
 meal, and carefully annealed. 
 
 The ride from Hallowell to Augusta leads along the Kennebec 
 shore, and takes but a few minutes. 
 
 AUGUSTA. 
 
 Augusta, the capital of Maine, is a charming semi-rural city of 
 about 9,000 inhabitants, having a valuation exceeding $5,000,000, with 
 plenty of schools and more than enough churches, like most New-Eng- 
 land communities. It also has three national banks and two savings- 
 banks, several enterprising newspapers, and three or four large hotels. 
 
32 Summer Days Dozvn East 
 
 There is one very brisk and noisy business street, parallel with the 
 river, from which shorter streets climb the heights to the noble avenues 
 above, with their grassy borders, wide-spreading elms, and comfortable 
 mansions. There is plenty of pure air here, and delightful surroundings 
 on all sides, and many are the summer visitors who sojourn in this quiet 
 and refined little capital, driving about the adjacent hill country and 
 enjoying the cool northern air. Mr. Blaine says that he can recuperate 
 in this climate of Augusta more quickly than anywhere else in the 
 world; and many another exhausted toiler has found the tonic equally 
 good. 
 
 The State House is a handsome and imposing classic building, of 
 white granite, rising above a dense greenery of forest trees, and from 
 its lofty perch overlooking the Kennebec and its valley for many 
 leagues. It is now more than half a century old; and within a few 
 years was strongly garrisoned by militia and defended by artillery, as 
 a result of hot political quarrels and a contested election for governor. 
 In the rotunda are eighty tattered battle-flags of the Maine volunteers 
 in the Secession War, with a great number of cavalry and artillery 
 pennons, and a half-score of captured rebel flags. It is proudly 
 claimed that not even a single stand of colors was lost by the Maine 
 troops during the war. Among these glorious mementos are portraits 
 recalling by-gone centuries, representing Pownall and Pepperell, Knox 
 and Washington, and other ancient heroes and statesmen. The visitor 
 may also glance into the halls of the Senate and House of Representa- 
 tives, and the great State Library, and then climb to the top of the 
 dome and look down over silvery leagues of the Kennebec and broad 
 undulating townships of the hill-country. 
 
 Close to the State House, among pleasant grounds, is the cosey 
 home of James G. Blaine, the most popular and powerful of modern 
 American politicians, who has lived at Augusta for more than forty 
 years. In the Senate chamber above is the old-fashioned desk at 
 which he began newspaper life, reporting during several terms the 
 debates for " The Kennebec Journal." When twenty-six years old he 
 was chosen Speaker of the Legislature, and he has said, "When I was 
 elected Speaker, I felt prouder over it than of any office to which I have 
 since been called." Augusta was also the home of the late Lot M. 
 
A It gust a. 33 
 
 Morrill, long time a Senator of the United States, and Secretary of the 
 Treasury. 
 
 Not far from the handsome Augusta House, on the plateau, is a 
 very impressive monument, with bronze rejiefs and statue, commem- 
 orating the two hundred volunteers (out of the city's contingent of 
 1,000 men) who died on the Southern battle-fields. It is inscribed: 
 " In honor of her heroic sons who died in the war for the Union, and 
 to commend their example to succeeding generations, this monument 
 is erected by the city of Augusta, A.D. i88i." On the same fine 
 avenue are the modern buildings of Kennebec County, and also a 
 handsome and stately Congregational church, of granite. 
 
 The Cony Female Academy was founded in 1815 by Judge Cony, 
 who had the building erected and furnished before revealing to the 
 wondering Augustans his purpose. The institution has been closed for 
 several years, and the endowment fund has so effectually increased that 
 a stately new brick building has been erected. Not far from this 
 structure is a very popular Episcopal boarding-school for young ladies, 
 known as St. Catherine's Hall, and partly connected with the flourish- 
 ing parish and church of St. Mark's. 
 
 Augusta is the fifth office in the United States for second-class 
 mail matter, since it is the very paradise of periodical light literature, 
 of which there are several very large publishing houses here, with 
 immense and massive buildings, electrotype foundries, and other costly 
 paraphernalia. One of these alone has five hundred employes, and 
 buildings which cost upwards of $300,000, and runs day and night, 
 sending out yearly 1,600 tons of papers and magazines, at an annual 
 postal expense of nearly $150,000. Anglo-Saxon America is flooded 
 with circulars from these great houses, and hundreds of thousands of 
 families are mainly dependent on the great Hoe presses of Augusta for 
 their literary supplies. 
 
 Near the eastern end of the Kennebec bridge stands a poor tene- 
 ment-house, one hundred feet long, with huge chimneys, small windows, 
 and walls of solid timbers twelve inches thick. This building was the 
 home of the commander of the ancient castle of the region, which was 
 erected in 1754, and long garrisoned with Provincial troops, to protect 
 the country against the savages. It received the name of Fort 
 
34 Sufmner Days Down East. 
 
 Western, in honor of a friend of Governor Shirley, in Merrie England. 
 The works were surrounded with a palisade, at whose corners stood 
 massive block-houses. As early as the year 1629 the Plymouth fur- 
 traders had established a post here, at Cushnoc, near the village of the 
 Canibas Indians. About ninety years later the strongest stone fort in 
 the country was built on the same site ; but this suffered the fate of the 
 trading post, and was totally destroyed by hostile Indians. After the 
 Revolution the locality became settled very rapidly, and by 1828 
 Augusta was big enough to be made the capital of Maine. 
 
 Benedict Arnold sailed up to this point, the head of sloop navi- 
 gation, with his army, and here built bateaux in which to ascend the 
 Kennebec, while his men were quartered in Fort Western. Eighty-six 
 years later Augusta again became a military post, when regiment after 
 regiment of Maine lumbermen and farmers was formed and encamped 
 here, before being sent off to death in Virginia. 
 
 Just above the city is the great Kennebec Dam, five hundred and 
 eighty-four feet long and fifteen feet high, built in 1833-37, at a cost of 
 $300,000, and furnishing an enormous power for the mills below. For 
 years the river has been idly foaming over the dam, since the property 
 belonged to the Rhode-Island Spragues, and shared the fate of their 
 other enterprises. Quite recently, however, the mills, dam, and con- 
 tiguous estates, valued altogether at $2,000,000, were bought by a 
 syndicate of Boston and Augusta capitalists, who intend to have eight 
 hundred operatives at work here this year. 
 
 The State Insane Asylum is on a secluded and sunny height 
 across the Kennebec, surrounded with three hundred acres of cultivated 
 grounds, with masses of bright flowers and clumps of handsome trees. 
 The older asylum, which stood on the same site, was burned in 1850, 
 when twenty-eight lives were lost. Many of the three hundred inmates 
 solace the hours of their enforced retirement from the world by laboring 
 on the great farm connected with the institution. 
 
 Below the asylum, on the river-side lowlands, is the Kennebec 
 Arsenal, where the National Government keeps a lot of its old-fashioned 
 artillery and muskets. The spacious grounds about these old stone 
 buildings are types of military neatness, and the War Department keeps a 
 handsome flag on the tall staff. The arsenal was founded in 1828, under 
 
Togus Springs. 35 
 
 the direction of the doughty Col. Bomford, of the Ordnance department, 
 to store arms and ammunition for the exposed northern and eastern 
 frontiers. Among the commandants here were Gen. J. W. Ripley, of 
 the Ordnance department; Robert Anderson, afterwards the hero of 
 Fort Sumter; O. O. Howard, now a general in the U.S. Army, and 
 other officers who became famous in later years. During the Mexican 
 War the arsenal was the scene of very active work ; and while the 
 Secession War was going on great quantities of fixed ammunition were 
 prepared here. The military stores at that time were valued at a 
 million and a half dollars ; and an attempt by supposed rebel emissaries 
 to surprise the arsenal at midnight, from the river, was frustrated by the 
 sentinels. 
 
 The best view-point near Augusta is Oliver Hill, above the Catho- 
 hc cemetery, and the graveyard of the post hospital of 1861—62, and 
 named for Captain Oliver, whose mansion stood near by. Thirty town- 
 ships in the valley are overlooked from this noble height, with countless 
 quiet Kennebec farmsteads, white villages, and far blue mountain 
 ranges. From other high hills back of the city very lovely views are 
 afforded, including the serpentine stream and its daughter cities on one 
 side, and on the other the lofty peaks of Mount Blue, Mount Abraham, 
 and Saddleback, and the long azure wall of the distant White 
 Mountains. A favorite drive leads out over the Winthrop road for four 
 and a half miles to Hammond's Grove, a pleasant picnic-ground at 
 the head of Cobbossee Contee ; and here one can get boats, wherewith 
 to go out and seek the bass that inhabit these crystal waters. The 
 road thence to the outlet runs over elevated ground, and gives many a 
 charming view across the highland lake ; and the Hallowell road leads 
 thence through a very picturesque region of woods and dales back 
 toward Augusta. 
 
 The Soldiers' Home at Togus is a very interesting institution, a 
 sort of American Hotel des Invalides, in a lovely valley five miles east 
 of Gardiner, and seven miles from Augusta, among the low hills of 
 Chelsea. There is a mineral spring here, and many years ago some one 
 built a large summer hotel near by. But guests came slowly to this 
 Maine Bethesda, and finally the discouraged proprietors sold the place 
 to the United States, to be used as a home for disabled soldiers of the 
 
36 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Secession War. The premises were not long afterwards cleaned up by 
 a fire, which swept away the old buildings, and left the ground clear for 
 the spacious and comfortable brick structures which now constitute the 
 Home. It is a regular military post, with flagstaff, guns, uniformed 
 veterans, regular company organizations, and a fine military band. 
 Everything is provided for the comfort of the old boys in blue, and 
 there is no work imposed upon them, except in cases of misbehavior, 
 when they are set to labor on the farm for a certain number of days; 
 or, if they sometimes get tired of fighting over old battles, and 
 reenacting the defence of Cemetery Hill or the storming of Fort 
 Fisher, they can go to work for a few days in the shoe factory on the 
 grounds, and earn money enough to buy a box or two of prime cigars, 
 or a set of Charles Lever's novels. To pass the happy hours away they 
 have a free circulating-library of five thousand volumes; a reading- 
 room containing the chief daily and weekly newspapers ; a billiard- 
 room, and a bowling-alley ; and a hall, which, on different days, serves 
 the purposes of theatre and church. There are thirteen hundred 
 men dependent on the Home for rations, and living close by, and nine 
 hundred men who are inmates of the post. The dining-room seats 
 six hundred ; and in a single dinner these hearty sons of Mars con- 
 sume a full ton of meat and fish. Every month they make way 
 with two tons of sugar, a ton of coffee, and over a hundred barrels 
 of flour, — so that any temporary delinquencies of the old-time 
 commissariats in Virginia or Georgia are now more than amply made up 
 to the grizzled veterans. Here and there are venerable Uncle Tobys 
 whose army service began almost as far back as the days of the Legion 
 of the West, and who speak of Chapultepec and Monterey with 
 kindling eye. Others have grim memories of battles on the plains with 
 the wild Comanches and Dakotas, or ghastly scenes among the 
 mountain fastnesses of the Apaches and the Utes. 
 
 •' The neighing troop, the flashing blade, 
 
 The bugle's stirring blast, 
 The charge, the dreadful cannonade. 
 
 The din and shout are passed. 
 Nor War's wild notes, nor Glory's peal. 
 
 Shall thrill with fierce delight 
 These breasts, that nevermore may feel 
 
 The rapture of the fight." 
 
Q^ 
 
 (^ 
 
 'A 
 
Valley From Augusta to Waterville. 37 
 
 THE VALLEY FROM AUGUSTA TO 
 WATERVILLE. 
 
 The line crosses the Kennebec on a high bridge of stone and iron, 
 with good views of the great Kennebec Dam on the left, and of the 
 broad stream on the right. Running northward on the east bank, the 
 river is almost constantly in view, with the trees on its banks mirrored 
 in the clear water, and here and there stranded or floating logs from 
 the vast forests of the North. 
 
 Farther along is the station of Riverside, where a ferry crosses to 
 the west bank of the river, and roads run into the corn-producing 
 back country. At Vassalboro', the next station, stages are in waiting to 
 carry passengers over the hills to North and East Vassalboro' and China, 
 — pretty rural villages to the eastward. This wealthy old town, richly 
 diversified in its scenery, and famous for its luscious fruits and promis- 
 ing water-powers, was first settled in 1760, and included among its 
 pioneers two of the guides of Arnold's expedition, one of whom, Dennis 
 Gatchell, long held the office of captain of the town, while another, 
 John Gatchell, was a valiant hunter, and had vanquished and slain a 
 wounded moose in hand-to-hand combat. He was as wary as valiant, 
 and cut a subterranean passage from his house to the river below, so 
 that he could escape in case of a siege by hostile Indians. A few years 
 later, these doughty warriors were joined by one of Washington's life- 
 guardsmen, and by other veterans of the Revolution. To neutralize 
 the martial counsels of these men of war. Providence next sent a large 
 number of Cape-Cod people hither, to live in the deep peace and God- 
 liness of the Society of Friends, and to found a church and school (the 
 Oak-Grove Seminary) which still flourish in the land. The building 
 was burned in March, 1883, but doubtless it will rise again in renewed 
 beauty. 
 
 The train runs north from Vassalboro' for ten minutes, with the 
 broad river on the left, and then stops at Winslow, near the pretty little 
 
38 Suniiney Days Down East. 
 
 village of the same name, nestling deep under great trees, and inhabited 
 by the descendants of the ancient Puritan immigrants from Massachu- 
 setts. The line next crosses the Sebasticook River on a covered 
 bridge, immediately after emerging from which one sees, on the left- 
 hand side, and close to the track, the ancient block-house of Fort 
 Halifax, now carefully preserved by the antiquaries of ]\Iaine. This 
 beautiful site, at the confluence of the Kennebec and Sebasticook, was 
 the capital of the Indian tribes in this region, — if people could be said 
 to have had a capital who possessed as little sense of permanent resi- 
 dence as the birds have, or the fishes. Here, at any rate, were brave 
 fishing-grounds, and broad alluvial meadows on which the squaws 
 planted corn and vegetables wherewith to feed their lazy lords. In 
 1676, when Massachusetts was being burnt and flayed by King 
 Philip's red warriors, her council of war sent Abraham Shurt, of Pema- 
 quid, into the heart of the country, to search out the Kennebec chief- 
 tains, and detach them from alliance with the hostile tribes. The envoy 
 was received with much barbaric state in the fortified "great wigwam" 
 on this site. 
 
 As civilization advanced up the valley it became necessary to 
 embattle its advanced guards, and so a new fort was erected at this 
 point of vantage by the orders of Massachusetts. The corner-stone of 
 this Provincial fortress is now in the State House at Augusta, and bears 
 an inscription as follows : THIS Corner-Stoxe LAID BY DIRECTION 
 OF Governor Shirley, 1754. The commander of the troops who 
 built the fort was Gen. John Winslow, a veteran of the fatal Havana 
 expedition, and the next year the chief leader in the expulsion of the 
 Acadians from their native land. There were no settlers within many 
 miles of the post, and the soldiers of the garrison had little to do but 
 hunt game in the vast pine forests adjacent, or fish about the falls. The 
 Indians gave the place a wide berth, and their allies, the French officers 
 and Canadian gentlemen, who had in earlier years reduced many a firm 
 New-England stronghold, never looked upon the Sebasticook fortress. 
 Yet it was considered an important point, fencing out the barbarians as 
 efl'ectually as Aurelian's wall did the Ficts and Scots ; and the Province 
 kept a garrison of 130 men here, under the gallant Captain Lithgow. 
 After the conclusion of the Treaty of Paris, in 1763, the garrison was 
 
> 
 
Waterville. 39 
 
 withdrawn down the river, and the defences were left to fall into 
 dilapidation. 
 
 From the block-house the long line of mills and houses which 
 forms the front of Waterville comes into view, and the train soon 
 sweeps across the Kennebec on a high bridge, beneath which roar and 
 thunder the picturesque Ticonic Falls, among whose wave-swept rocks 
 and ledges hundreds of logs from up-stream are entangled and beaten 
 to pieces. 
 
 WATERVILLE. 
 
 The city of Waterville is one of the prettiest in Maine, and covers a 
 broad alluvial plateau above the Kennebec, its long streets overarched 
 with rows of venerable elms, making deep shadowy vistas like cathedral 
 aisles. On every side extend the comfortable homes of a peaceful and 
 industrious population, between which the streets run out to the edge of 
 the country, and lose themselves among the lanes and highways beyond. 
 Among these tranquil avenues, and far removed from the busy district 
 of stores and mills, stands the new Elmwood House, a very handsome 
 and commodious modern hotel, which attracts large numbers of summer 
 guests. There are many pleasant drives in this favored region, and one 
 cannot go amiss if he rides over to the pretty cascades at Oakland 
 (West Waterville), or up to the sylvan seclusion of East Fond, or 
 across the hills by East Vassalboro' to the lovely scenery of Webber's 
 Pond, or down to the broad lake of China Pond. The pleasant valley 
 towns in this region are rich in fruits, and produce great quantities of 
 choice apples and berries, which are eagerly gathered up by buyers 
 from Southern New England. 
 
 Waterville is about eighty miles from Portland, and here is the 
 junction of the two main tracks of the Maine Central, which traverse 
 the populous counties by widely distant routes, and unite here to pass 
 on to Bangor over a single line. Hence, also, a branch road ascends the 
 valley to Skowhegan ; and the Somerset Railroad runs north (from West 
 Waterville) to Norridgewock and North Anson. It has a population of 
 
40 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 about 5,000, and received a city charter in 1883, in consequence of its 
 rapid and healthy growth as a manufacturing centre. It is not many 
 years since the vast water-power of the Ticonic Falls was used only by 
 a few country saw and grist mills. Now it gives motive force to the 
 great Lockwood cotton-mills, with a capacity of 90,000 spindles, and 
 employing a thousand operatives. Mill No. 2, built in 1882, and 499 
 feet in length, is one of the best and costliest in America, and has all 
 the modern innovations, electric lights, steam-heating, automatic sprink- 
 lers, and other conveniences and safeguards. The construction of this 
 immense building was undertaken on account of the success of Mill No. 
 I, which has been in profitable operation for several years. Among the 
 other products of Waterville are matches and shovel-handles. On the 
 Messalonske River is a factory where water-pails, washbowls and other 
 articles of indurated ware are made from spruce wood-pulp, compacted 
 by enormous pressure, and then polished and chemically hardened into 
 horn-like firmness. 
 
 Close to the Waterville station are the pleasant grounds of Colby 
 University, beautifully shaded by lines of fine old trees, on which stand 
 the college-buildings, — Memorial Hall on the south, containing the 
 chapel and a library of 20,000 volumes; then the long old-fashioned 
 brick dormitories of South College and North College (Chaplin Hall) 
 with Champlin Hall between them; and on the north the granite struct- 
 ure known as Coburn Hall, and occupied by the scientific school. 
 Back of these is a wooded bluff, overhanging the swift waters of the 
 Kennebec, along which extends the favorite ramble of the students, an 
 ancient and abandoned railway embankment, hedged in with shrubbery, 
 and extending beside the river almost to Fairfield. In the Memorial 
 Hall is a monument to twenty of the college men who died in the 
 Secession War. It is an adaptation of Thorwaldsen's great work at 
 Lucerne, and represents in marble a colossal dead lion, transfixed by a 
 spear, and with his paw resting on the shield of the Union. The names 
 of the dead are carved below. The citizens of. the town who fell in the 
 same dread conflict are commemorated by a martial bronze statue on 
 the broad green square by the ancient academy. 
 
 This venerable college was chartered in 1813, and opened in 1818, 
 and has had nearly 800 alumni, many of whom have attained fame as 
 
Waterville. 4 1 
 
 missionaries and teachers. Two of the chief of these were George 
 Dana Boardman and Benjamin Tripp, of the class of 1822, men of high 
 courage and consecration ; and among the later graduates was Prof. 
 Wilham Matthews, now one o-f the leading authors of the North-west. 
 The roll of the alumni also includes 230 clergymen and missionaries, 
 158 lawyers, 162 professors and teachers, 44 doctors, and 32 newspaper 
 men. Many years ago Benjamin F. Butler was a student here, occupy- 
 ing a dull little room on the third floor of the North College, and fight- 
 ing penury and starvation in his struggle for an education as gallantly 
 and cheerfully as he has since opposed other terrible adverse influences. 
 
 The original name of "The Maine Literary and Theological Insti- 
 tution " was changed, in 1822, to that of Waterville College, and in 1867 
 to Colby University, in honor of Gardiner Colby, of Boston, a generous 
 benefactor. It is richly endowed, and has an able staff of professors ; but 
 the conservatism of the college is widely known, and keeps its antique 
 curriculum unimpaired in an age of drifting from the old standards. 
 The affiliated Classical Institute near by was for years one of the chief 
 fitting-schools of New England, and a rival of Exeter and Andover; 
 but latterly has hardly held its own, having an insufficient endowment 
 to compete with the richer academies of Massachusetts. Ex-Governor 
 Coburn is now erecting, at great expense, a very handsome and commo- 
 dious new building for the Institute, and a brilliant future is opening 
 for the well-famed school. 
 
 In the old days Waterville was a noted steamboat port, whence 
 five boats departed daily for Augusta and the towns below, passing 
 through the dam by locks. The Waterville ran between Augusta and 
 Waterville as early as 1825, making slow progress against the roaring 
 waters. The Ticonic was put on this route in 1832; ascended the 
 Twelve-Mile Falls in Vassalboro' without difficulty; and was received 
 at Waterville by artillery salutes and colossal free lunches. At one 
 time there was a great deal of steamboat racing on the river between 
 Waterville and Augusta, and scenes worthy of the Mississippi were 
 enacted on these quiet waters. In 1848 the Halifax and the Balloon 
 were indulging in such a trial of speed, when the boiler of the former 
 exploded, killing or wounding nearly every one on board, and sinking 
 the boat. 
 
42 Summer Days Down East, 
 
 PITTSFIELD AND DEXTER. 
 
 To the eastward of Waterville, and especially after leaving the fair 
 Kennebec Valley, and climbing up on the great water-shed, the coun- 
 try is less populous, and the villages stand much farther apart. It is 
 fifty-five miles from Waterville to Bangor; and the day-express makes 
 the trip in an hour and a half, stopping only at Burnham and Newport, 
 and rushing with lightning speed by the other nine stations. After the 
 Bangor train runs out of Waterville, leaving the ancient University 
 buildings on one side, it ascends the west bank of the Kennebec for 
 a short distance through a populous region, and crosses the great 
 river below Fairfield. Beyond the quiet little station of Benton the 
 pretty village of Clinton is reached, in one of the old Plj^mouth-Patent 
 towns, settled as early as 1775. Here the line runs in the valley of the 
 Sebasticook, which is followed for a dozen miles, or more, through long 
 highland clearings, with heavy fringes ^f forest on either side, and occa- 
 sional glimpses of the high blue mountains about Penobscot Bay. 
 
 From Burnham station a branch railway loafs downward to the 
 south-east, across the dreary plains of Waldo County, to Belfast, thirty- 
 four miles, in two hours, crossing half-a-dozcn Yankee farming towns, — 
 Unity, Thorndike, Knox, Brooks, Swanville, and Waldo. At Belfast 
 (see Index) steamboats may be taken for the great summer hotel on 
 Fort Point, or the camp-meeting grounds at Northport, or the ancient 
 fortress of Castine. 
 
 The next station on the main line is Pittsfield, a brisk manu- 
 facturing village, with mills which convert Maine wool into Scotch 
 Cheviot cloth under the direction of canny old Scottish weavers. 
 Here also is the Maine Central Institute, a well-known training-school 
 for the eastern colleges. Stages run from this village of the plain up 
 the Sebasticook Valley to Hartland, and around great Moose Pond to 
 Harmony. Beyond the station of Detroit comes the junction at New- 
 port, in the thrifty village of the same name ; and from this point a 
 branch railroad runs northward fourteen miles, over the long plains of 
 
Pittsfield and Dexter. 43 
 
 Corinna, to Dexter, a prosperous and pretty village with a line of busy 
 factories along the downward-pitching outlet of Dexter Pond. One of 
 the eight local churches is called the Barron Memorial, in honor of the 
 cashier of the bank, who was murdered by burglars while defending the 
 treasures in his charge. There are many localities in the environs 
 where the scenery is noticeably beautiful, and summer travellers often 
 make Dexter the goal of their pilgrimages. Up to within a very few 
 years the favorite route to Moosehead Lake ran via Dexter, whence 
 daily stages cross the hill-towns on the north to the foot of the lake. 
 
 Eastward, on the main line, the train passes near the great Newport 
 Pond, and so on down to the lonesome station of Etna, with glimpses 
 of the mountains of Dixmont on the south. The high water-shed of 
 the Kennebec has now been crossed, and the line passes on into the 
 Penobscot Valley, passing through Carmel and Hermon, primitive New- 
 England towns, where the sewing-circle still exists in all its old-time 
 glory. The great river is struck at a point below Bangor, and the 
 train runs up beside the Penobscot, and stops in the outer environs of 
 the city. 
 
 <^!^^. 
 
WESTERN ROUTE TO BANGOR, 
 
 Via LEWISTON AND WINTHROP. 
 
 CONSIDERABLE part of this route lies over the old 
 Androscoggin and Penobscot Railroad, which has been con- 
 solidated with the Maine Central line, and brought up to the 
 same splendid efficiency which characterizes all parts of that 
 great avenue of travel. It leaves the main track at Cumber- 
 ^^ land, eleven miles north-east of Portland, and runs across Cum- 
 berland County, a part of the ancient province of Laconia, and of 
 Gorges's domain of New Somersetshire. After turning off at Cumber- 
 land the train runs to the rural hamlet of Walnut Hill, whose red 
 farm-houses are nestled deep among the century-old trees, between two 
 tall hills. Far away ahead blue ridges begin to appear, — the videttes 
 of the wilderness. Around the station of Gray beautiful flower-beds 
 arc seen, their fragrance and color replacing the usual wretched sur- 
 roundings of American railway buildings. Many other stations on this 
 line are adorned in a similar manner, and their parterres of flowers 
 afl"ord pleasant refreshment to passing travellers. It is about two miles 
 from Gray to Gray Corner, the chief village of the town, on the high- 
 lands toward Sebago Lake. Here Simon Greenlcaf, the great jurist, 
 practised law from 1S07 to 181 1, and laid the foundations of his vast 
 legal learning. The railway ascends the valley of Royal River, and the 
 pretty little stream is seen dimpling down among the trees. A new 
 railroad line has recently been surveyed from Gray station to Poland 
 
 Spring and Mechanic Fal's. 
 
 (44) 
 
Aiibiirn and Lake- Auburn Spying. 45 
 
 Up the narrowing valley rushes the train, and the Grand Trunk Rail- 
 way is seen across Royal River on the east. New Gloucester, the next 
 station, is in the broad town of the same name, which was granted to, 
 and settled by, people from Massachusetts Gloucester, about the year 
 1735. The Indians compelled its abandonment a few years later; but 
 in 1753 the inhabitants returned and erected a strong and spacious log- 
 castle, which long served the purposes of homes, church, and fortress. 
 In later years New Gloucester became a shire-town, and this period 
 of forensic favor gave it a certain distinction and elegance which still 
 remain among its venerable mansions. Here Peleg W. Chandler was 
 born ; and here William Pitt Fessenden, the great Senator, passed the 
 days of his youth. 
 
 Beyond New Gloucester the Maine Central and Grand Trunk lines 
 slowly converge, and at Danville Junction they cross each other, one 
 route bearing away north-westward to Canada, and the former running 
 to the north-east, into central and eastern Maine and the Maritime 
 Provinces. The junction is in the fiftli ward of the city of Auburn, but 
 its surroundings are entirely rural. Soon, however, the Little Andros- 
 coggin is crossed, and the train halts briefly at the station of Auburn, 
 after which it crosses the Androscoggin River, and stops at Lewiston. 
 
 AUBURN AND THE LAKE-AUBURN 
 
 SPRING. 
 
 Auburn is just across the river from Lewiston, and the two cities 
 form a kind of municipal Siamese twins, joined by the important liga- 
 ment of the falls. Auburn, however, is less metropolitan than her 
 neighbor, and has but about 10,000 inhabitants, with a valuation of 
 $5,000,000. She has great manufactories of furniture, crackers, and 
 bleached cottons, but her chief pride rests in shoes, and her ambition 
 is to be a second Lynn. Over a million dollars are invested in this 
 industry, which engages one thousand five hundred men and six hun- 
 
46 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 dred women, out of the two thousand five hundred operatives in the city. 
 The average annual production of shoes is nearly five million pairs; 
 and the value of the goods manufactured here every year equals the 
 total valuation of the city. Auburn has neither castle, cathedral, nor 
 convent, but she takes pride in the possession of the public buildings of 
 Androscoggin County, and in a new and handsome high-school, before 
 which stands a bronze statue of its chief benefactor. There are also 
 half-a-dozen good churches, and a Young Men's Christian Association 
 building. 
 
 It is almost two hundred years since Major Church came to the 
 site of Auburn, and stormed the Indian fort there, at the head of his 
 gallant Provincial rangers. As the doughty Puritan infantry entered 
 the works on one side, the aborigines fled out at the other end, and 
 made good their escape. Several Indian skeletons have been found 
 buried in this vicinity, all of them in a sitting posture, with their war- 
 clubs in their hands, defiant even in death. Only a few years after the 
 subjugation of the fort Massachusetts colonized the region with tough 
 old veterans of the Canada wars, and the dark-skinned lords of the soil 
 retired without argument from before these Cromwellian Congregation- 
 alists. The fire of the early days survived long, for, in 1861-65, 
 Auburn sent four hundred and thirty soldiers into the field, and they 
 were more than decimated during the long struggle. 
 
 The Lake-Auburn Spring Hotel is about five miles from the twin 
 cities, by a very pleasant stage-road, which leads for miles along the 
 shore of the lake. The hotel coaches connect with trains at Lewiston 
 and Auburn, and run thence about three miles to the ancient Baptist 
 hamlet of East Auburn, where passengers get on board a steamboat, 
 and are carried across the lake to the hotel (fare from Boston and 
 return, $7; from Portland and return, $4,25). The mineral fountain 
 which gives interest to this locality is an uncommonly pure spring 
 water, styled, in the jargon of the chemists, " naturally aerated, or 
 charged with carbonic acid, oxygen and nitrogen gases, — alkaline, 
 colorless, tasteless, odorless, sparkling, and free from any appreciable 
 organic matter." It is a soft water, naturally laxative and corrective, 
 and has been found very beneficial in diseases of the kidne\s, liver, and 
 stomach, as scores of testimonials in the little pamphlet sent out by the 
 
Auburn and Lake- Auburn Spring. 47 
 
 hotel people bear witness. Not far from the spring is a commodious 
 house, where vast quantities of water are barrelled and sent away to the 
 agency in Boston, and to patrons in distant cities. The hotel is a 
 modern and well-appointed house, with broad verandas, beautifull}'' 
 situated on a bold bluff one hundred feet above the adjacent lake, and 
 nine hundred feet above the sea, amid ancient groves of pines and oaks. 
 It commands an enchanting view down the lake (which is four miles 
 long), and over the distant blue hills beyond, down the Androscoggin 
 valley. The guests find ample resources for pleasure in boating and 
 fishing, in evening excursions to Harlow's grove, and in driving 
 through the beautiful and primitive country which surrounds this 
 sequestered nook. High up above this locality, near the hamlet of 
 West Auburn, and five miles from Auburn, is the Grand View House, 
 which has not }-et entered into the heritage of fame, but may be 
 destined to a brilliant future. It is i,iOO feet above the sea, and 
 commands a view of scores of mountains and lakes, near and far, 
 including even the sovereign peak of ]\Iount Washington. Connected 
 with it is a very pure spring of sparkling, oxygenated, and silicated 
 w^ater, valuable as a solvent. 
 
 To the northward is the pond-strewn town of Turner, the birthplace 
 of the late Postmaster-General Howe, Senator Eugene Hale, and other 
 eminent men. This remote hill town gave an aide-de-camp and a life- 
 guardsman to General Washington, and a score of soldiers to the Con- 
 tinental army, and also three hundred and nineteen volunteers to the 
 national armies in the civil war. Minot, the little town to the westward, 
 sent two hundred and six volunteers to the war, although its chief citizen, 
 William Ladd, was the founder of the American Peace Societ}% and the 
 pacific influences of the venerable Hebron Academy had for many 
 years been leavenine its vouth. 
 
48 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 LEWISTON. 
 
 Lewiston is one of the brightest and most enterprising of the 
 manufacturing cities of New England ; and the incessant motion of 
 its machinery, moved by the swift waters of the Androscoggin, makes 
 perpetual industrial music, as it has for more than a century. For it was 
 as early as 1768 that the famous Pejepscot proprietors granted this locality 
 to Moses Little and Jonathan Bagley (of Newbury, Massachusetts), who 
 agreed to settle fifty families here within six years. The first three of 
 their colonists came hither in 1770, and set up a mill at the falls the same 
 season. In 1774 came Davis, the surveyor and shoemaker; in 1775, 
 James Garcelon, from the Isle of Guernsey; in 1785, Ames, the black- 
 smith and inn-keeper; and in 1788, Read, the village statesman and 
 postmaster. From these small beginnings have arisen a city of 20,000 
 inhabitants, with a valuation of $10,000,000, a dozen churches, thirty 
 schools, and several newspapers, one of which, the Lewiston jfeurnal, 
 takes rank among the best products of the American press. The first 
 tide of immigration was composed of veterans of the Revolutionary 
 War; the second, of families who fled inland, in 181 2-1 5, from a sea- 
 coast exposed to the attacks of British cruisers ; and the third, the 
 voluminous and increasing stream of French-speaking people from 
 Lower Canada, comJng hither to work in the mills. A large part of 
 the inhabitants of Lewiston are French-Canadians, descendants of the 
 old Norman and Poitevin emigres who settled about Quebec, — merry 
 and garrulous citizens, with very little of the New-England gravit}^, but 
 a vast capacity for money-earning labor. Their temporal interests are 
 maintained by a weekly newspaper, Le Messager, and their spiritual 
 welfare rests safely in the care of a body of French clergy, and under 
 the auspices of the good St. Anne. In proportion to its population 
 Lewiston has more Roman Catholics than any other place in Maine, 
 and their chief shrine is the great Church of St. Peter, conducted by 
 Dominican monks, and adorned by costly statues, imported from 
 France, and by rich modern frescoes. 
 
Lewiston, 49 
 
 Young as the settlement was, it sent three good soldiers into the 
 armies of the Revolution, and into the war of 1812 several companies, 
 one of which was captured en masse in the gunboat Growler, on Lake 
 Champlain. Toward the forces called out by the United States in 
 1861-65, it gave 1,142 volunteers and 16 drafted men, 112 of whom 
 died in Maryland, Virginia, Louisiana, and elsewhere throughout the 
 red South. The handsome little park in the centre is adorned with a 
 bronze statue of a soldier, commemorating the Lewiston volunteers 
 who never came back to Maine. Looking down upon this memorial are 
 several costly churches, the city hall, with its lofty Gothic spire, and 
 the great brick building of the De Witt House. This locality is the 
 crown of the civic pride, and intervenes between the mill district and 
 the residence streets, which melt away into the country outside. A 
 charming view of the city and its environs, and of the Androscoggin 
 valley for many a league, may be obtained from the little mountain 
 near Bates College, whose summit has been reserved for an astronomi- 
 cal observatory. 
 
 Begirt as they are with mills, canals, and bridges, the falls have 
 lost much of their ancient natural beauty; yet in seasons of high water, 
 when vast bodies of water are thundering over the stone dam and whiten- 
 ing over the rocky islets and ledges, they afford a scene of deep interest 
 and attraction. There is a very grim and terrible legend attached to 
 this locality, of a war-party of hostile Indians lured down the river 
 by false signals placed by white men, and swept over the falls in their 
 canoes, to meet with destruction in the raging white floods below. But 
 in these happy practical days the water-nymphs are yoke sisters of the 
 mill-girls, and the Union Water Power Company, having encased the 
 falls in bulwarks of masonry, hires out their power to the adjacent 
 factories. Their province extends to the distant Rangeley Lakes, where 
 vast dams serve to regulate in some degree the supply of water in 
 dry seasons, making sure a supply to the fifty busy water-wheels, with 
 their 6,000 horse-powers. The great cotton-mills, the Continental, 
 Bates, Hill, Androscoggin, Lewiston, and others, run 400,000 spindles, 
 and use every year 13,000 tons of cotton. There are also various 
 other large factories in Lewiston, and the roll of operatives comprises 
 4,000 men and 3,300 women. The products for 1882 included 
 
50 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 61,000,000 yards of cotton and woollen goods (more than enough to 
 belt the earth at the equator), 17,000,000 feet of long lumber, 
 4,000,000 bags, 72,000 shirts, and a vast number of other articles. 
 
 In ample grounds above the city rise the commodious buildings 
 of Bates College, which was founded, in 1856, as the Maine State 
 Seminary, and assumed its present name seven years later, in honor of 
 a generous patron. It is an undenominational Christian college, where, 
 by frugality and intellectual industry, 130 young men and women are 
 laying broad and deep the foundations for useful lives. The tuition 
 fee is $36 a year; and students have gone through the entire four- 
 years' course for $600 each. Earnest efforts are now being made by 
 Edward Everett Hale, Dr. Duryea, Stillman B. Allen, and other 
 eminent Bostonians, to increase the endowment of this centre of light 
 and culture. The theological school attached to the college is the 
 chief supply of clergy for the Free-Will Baptist Church. Elsewhere 
 in the city is the new Eclectic Medical College. 
 
 There are many pleasant drives in this region of hills and lakes, 
 and abundant livery accommodations in the stables of the two cities. 
 About three miles out, on the river- road, is the Gulf, where the 
 Androscoggin rushes down a series of rapids against a steep height 
 below, making a very pretty sandy beach, and surging ceaselessly 
 against the repelling ledges above and below. 
 
 POLAND SPRING. 
 
 Poland Spring, one of the chief health-resorts of New England, 
 is reached by a hilly stage-road of 3^ miles from Lewiston Junction, 
 or a longer (but still pleasant) drive from Lewiston and Auburn, over 
 the highlands. It is in the picturesque hill town of Poland, abounding 
 in ponds and ridges and other scenic charms, and commemorating, in its 
 name, an ancient Indian chief of this region, now long since departed 
 to the kingdom of Ponemah. 
 
 The hotel is one of the largest of its class, with a frontage of 262 
 feet, long piazzas, electric annunciators, gas-lights, steam elevator. 
 
Poland Spidng. 5 1 
 
 reading and smoking rooms, a colossal dining-room, and all the other 
 appurtenances of a first-class American summer hotel. It is 800 feet 
 above the sea, and commands an exquisite view, including the distant 
 spires of Lewiston on one side, and on the other the broad waters of 
 Sebago Lake, with the noble peaks of the White Mountains beyond. 
 The nearer lakes of Poland are included in this panorama of beauty, and 
 the long ridges which stretch away toward the Androscoggin valley. 
 Within easy driving distance are the quaint Shaker villages, founded 
 a hundred years ago, near Sabbath-Day Pond, and now rich in well- 
 tilled farms; the busy hamlet of Mechanic Falls, with its manufactures 
 of paper and rifles ; the prosperous twin cities of Lewiston and Auburn ; 
 and the old lake-side haunts of Nathaniel Hawthorne, in Raymond. 
 
 The famous spring is close to the hotel, through whose rooms its 
 waters are conducted in enamelled iron pipes ; and alongside is a 
 building in which vast quantities of the water are barrelled and bottled 
 for export, to be sold in the cities. It flows from a crevice in a granite 
 ledge, running about eight gallons a minute, and is a colorless and 
 tasteless alkaline water, containing only about four grains of mineral 
 matter (mainly silica, and carbonates of lime and magnesia) to the 
 gallon. Among the diseases which yield to its gentle power are dys- 
 pepsia, Bright's disease, gravel, scrofula, debility, dropsy, and various 
 other distressing complaints of the kidneys and digestive organs. The 
 patients drink two full goblets of the water five times a day, and thus 
 in a manner drown out their troubles, returning home, in many cases 
 (as attested by a great number of witnesses in the little pamphlet given 
 away by the proprietors), quite cured of long chronic ailments. 
 
 The spring has belonged to the Ricker family since 1792, and for 
 many years enjoyed a considerable local fame, which was augmented 
 by a wonderful cure performed on a sick ox that was turned into 
 the adjacent pasture to die, but drank freely, and soon recovered 
 and grew so fat that he passed under the butcher's knife as marketable 
 'beef. Since that time, nearly twenty-five years ago, the spring has 
 become famous for its wonderful curative powers. The old stage- 
 tavern of the Rickers began to be visited by crowds of health-seekers, 
 and a few years later the present immense hotel was built to accommo- 
 date the increasing throngs of people from the cities. 
 
52 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 WINTHROP AND LAKE MARANACOOK. 
 
 As the Bangor train runs out of Lewiston, it follows the Andros- 
 coggin for a while, and then branches off across the purely agricultural 
 town of Greene, which was settled a century ago by Massachusetts 
 veterans of the Revolutionary War. Here the hills attain a greater 
 height, and begin to be called mountains. At Leeds Junction the 
 Androscoggin branch is crossed, and passengers for Farmington and 
 the Rangeley Lakes change cars. The next station is in the lake- 
 bordered town of Monmouth, the seat of the great estate of Gen. Henry 
 Dearborn, who distinguished himself at the battle of Monmouth (New 
 Jersey) in 1778. A small and peaceful tribe of Indians were dwelling 
 here when the first settlers came in, but they gave way in silence, and 
 retreated into the northern wilderness. The village near the station lias 
 a small hotel and several factories. The next station, six miles beyond 
 Monmouth, is at VVinthrop, in the heart of the lake country. The 
 outlet of Lake Maranacook, descending steeply toward Lake Annabesa- 
 cook, affords a chance for Yankee mills, and here rises the village of 
 VVinthrop, whose busy little woollen factory has been running for 
 seventy years, and in 1882 received among its laborers a large party 
 of exiled Russian Jews. It is now nearly 120 years since Timothy 
 Foster and his comrades settled here, " by the great pond," and were 
 saved from starvation only by the game and fish which they were 
 enabled to capture. 
 
 Of late years this pretty little village, the Interlachen of Maine, 
 has attained considerable favor as a summer resort, and the enlarged 
 Winthrop House and the rural boarding-houses have been well filled 
 with people, who find pleasure in driving about the beautiful lake 
 region and among the rich farms of the hill-country, prolific in hay 
 and apples. There was good reason for the name of Pond-town Plan- 
 tation, which the early settlers gave to this region before the Revolu- 
 tionary War, for the country is all a-smile with bright and devious 
 lakes. Annabesacook stretches away to the southward for many a 
 
Ji. 
 
IVmthrop and Lake Maranacook. 53 
 
 shining mile, and contains one charming island, on which many inter- 
 esting Indian relics have been found. Indeed, everywhere among these 
 fair ponds are signs and tokens of the vanished race, who found here a 
 land of joy and plenty. But of their life and deeds not even a dim 
 tradition has survived. The first immigrants from tidewater Massachu- 
 chusetts found it a deserted land, made ready for their habitation by 
 the disappearance of its ancient owners. Travellers who drive up to 
 the old town-house describe the view thence as one of peculiar beauty, 
 including many a hill-girt winding lake, with blue peaks far away along 
 the horizon, and ihe White Mountains low in the western distance. 
 
 Cobbossee Contee Pond, a little farther eastward, is nine miles 
 long, and meanders among the fairest of grassy hills, between groves 
 of cedar and red oak, in the heart of a purely rural and agricultural 
 region. In the calm cool waters about its clustered islets dwell 
 myriads of white perch and black bass, affording rare sport to the 
 bucolic fishermen, and occasionally tempting sportsmen out from the 
 not distant cities of Augusta, Hallowell, and Gardiner. 
 
 Lake Maranacook is about eight miles long, and its crystal waters 
 extend from Winthrop village to Readfield, being crossed by a railway 
 bridge at the narrows. At one of the most charming points on the 
 shore the railway company purchased about sixty acres of woodland, 
 contiguous to the track, and graded the ground, thinning out some of 
 the trees, and erecting a great number of pavilions, seats, dance-halls, 
 wharves, and other conveniences for the vast picnic armies which visit 
 the grove on almost every pleasant summer day. Until recently the 
 lake was known as Winthrop Pond, and it is uncertain whether its pres- 
 ent melodious Indian name is a revival of some long-forgotten title. 
 It has already become a synonym for pleasure ; and no prettier sight 
 can be found than the daily summer armies of merry-making thousands 
 rambling through these grand pine groves by the side of the silvery lake. 
 In this delightful forest meet joyous conclaves of myriads of merry 
 makers. Gray veterans of the Grand Army, thousands of fire-breath- 
 ing Land-League Hibernians, parishes of French and Irish Catholics, 
 temperance camp-meetings, band tournaments, rifle matches, Sunday- 
 schools, industrial brotherhoods, mystic secret societies, and all manner 
 of bands of pleasurers. Here the chief orators of Maine address their 
 
54 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 constituencies, the strongest boatmen compete for shining prizes, the 
 favorite brass bands from Kennebunk to Mattavvamkeag make varied 
 music, and thousands of happy tourists of a day wander among the 
 dehghtful pine groves. If the woods are uncomfortably warm, tliere 
 are several little steamboats on the lake, carrying excursionists up and 
 down the mimic sea, amid great variety of sweet and pleasant scenery. 
 
 Beyond the picnic grove the train rumbles across the lake, which 
 is followed for miles, on the left, to the station of Readfield. The 
 lonely spire of Readfield Corner rises at the head of the lake, with 
 Mount Blue far away beyond ; and on the western ridge appear the 
 towers of the Maine Wesleyan Seminary and Female College, at 
 Kent's Hill. For nearly fifty years this school of Methodist prophets 
 has pursued its quiet and useful way, and it now has more than one 
 hundred and fifty students. A daily stage climbs up to it from Read- 
 field station, giving beautiful views over the lake country. 
 
 From Belgrade station stages run to New Sharon, passing Bel- 
 grade Mills, with its little inn and Golder's spool-factory, where thirty- 
 five workmen annually convert 1,500 cords of fine-grained white birch 
 into about 35,000,000 spools. Near the Mills is a very attractive lake, 
 covering nine square miles, and dotted with an archipelago of islets. 
 There is a small steamer on these secluded waters, and several boats, 
 in which the villagers and infrequent summer travellers pursue the 
 bass and perch which swarm among the islands. Near by is Rome, 
 the least of rural villages, yet not without heroes worthy of its name, 
 for forty of its Yankee Romans died in the field during the civil war. 
 
 Northward of Belgrade station the train soon reaches the shore of 
 Messalonske Lake, which it follows for several miles through a thinly 
 settled farming country to Oakland (or West VVaterville), the terminus 
 of the railroad to North Anson, whence it descends to beautiful 
 Waterville, on the Kennebec. Oakland is a manufacturing borough, 
 rich in the possession of the Messalonske River, which, in falling 
 downward over the edges of the plateau toward the Kennebec makes 
 many highly prized water-powers, dear to Yankee men. One of these 
 is the largest scythe-factory in the world. Here our route meets the 
 Eastern Division of the Maine Central Railroad, which left it at Cum- 
 berland, and a single line runs hence eastward to Bangor. 
 
THE NORTH-WESTERN 
 WILDERNESS. 
 
 NORRIDGEWOCK AND NORTH ANSON. 
 
 'T is therefore from Oakland and Waterville that one turns 
 northward toward the wilderness, aided for a few leagues 
 by the branch railways, and afterwards dependent on more 
 primitive modes of travel. The Somerset Railroad runs 
 north from Oakland across an open rolling country, with 
 many comfortable farms on either side, and occasional fair 
 glimpses of the lofty blue hills beyond. At Norridgewock it crosses 
 the Kennebec, with the brick house of Sophie May close to and 
 below the track, on the right, and the venerable houses and great 
 trees of Norridgewock beyond. Several miles farther, on the monu- 
 ment to Father Rasle is seen in a broad field on the left. 
 
 On this north side of the river sleeps the Norridgewock of the past, 
 once the chief town in all this region of the upper Kennebec, with many 
 stores and a large trade, but now a charmingly drowsy old hamlet, with 
 immemorial elms arching over its soundless street, and dignified old 
 gentlemen rehearsing the traditions of the past among the old-fashioned 
 gardens. It seems as near Sleepy Hollow as a Yankee village can be, 
 and is rich in quaint legends. The Danforth and Tenney places, once 
 the homes of eminent Maine jurists, and many other great square 
 mansions, stand retired from the street, like the homes of the maritime 
 
 (55) 
 
56 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 aristocracy of Portsmouth and Newburyport. At the end of "the long 
 house " is the most famous tree in Maine, a grand willow, twenty-three 
 feet in circumference at the base, said to have sprung from a switch 
 stuck in the ground over a hundred years ago by -a traveller riding 
 eastward from New Hampshire. There are several other interesting 
 legends about this venerable Colossus. The great elm-trees, the par- 
 ticular pride of the village, are believed to owe their origin to a tree- 
 planting day many generations ago, announced from the church pulpit, 
 
 the minister stating that Squire would furnish all the saplings 
 
 needed, and Brother all the rum. The old brick mansion, with its 
 
 great white pillars, built many years ago by Cullen Sawtelle, member 
 of Congress from Maine in the time of the Mexican War, has long been 
 owned and occupied by Miss Rebecca S. Clarke, who has achieved 
 fame and competence as a writer, under the pseudonym of " Sophie 
 May." In this ideal home, earned by her pen, dwells the favorite 
 author of the Prudy Stories, amid delightful grounds, rich in tall 
 trees, rustic seats and arbors, and bright views of the blue Kennebec. 
 Near by is the house of ex-Congressman Lindsey, who married Sophie 
 May's sister. The little brick temple, with white pillars, which he uses 
 for an office, was formerly the study of John S. Abbott, the eminent 
 jurist. The old court-house, once the forensic centre of this great forest 
 county, and the resort of many famous lawyers, is now used only for the 
 occasional meetings of agricultural and temperance organizations. Ad- 
 jacent is the antique meeting-house, still occupied for religious services, 
 while the lower floor serves as the town-hall, and the steeple is packed 
 with honey, and inhabited by myriads of bees. The men who raised 
 the huge beams and braces in this temple of civil and religious liberty 
 required the inspiration of "one barrel of good \V. I. rum, and one 
 hundred pounds of maple sugar." The church was once for a week or 
 more the retreat of grim Jack Hale, the famous horse-thief, who slept 
 very comfortably on the pew-cushions, and drank up the year's supply 
 of communion-wine, while from time to time he coukl hear the villagers 
 outside wondering where he was. 
 
 The business of old Norridgewock was very considerable, both with 
 the adjacent rural communities and with the Indians, who expended 
 the profits of their arduous hunting excursions in rum, beads, and 
 
Norridgewock. 57 
 
 trinkets. A dozen stores lined the river bank, but they have all disap- 
 peared ; and the two local newspapers which celebrated their activities, 
 have followed them into oblivion. The genius of modern enterprise 
 recoiled from this dreamland ; and when some uneasy seekers of wealth 
 erected various little manufactories here, they were placed on the farther 
 side of the river, near the railway station. 
 
 About five miles above Norridgewock is Old Point, a pleasant in- 
 tervale at the confluence of the Kennebec and Sandy Rivers, an acre of 
 which is fenced off around the tall granite monument and cross which 
 Bishop Fenwick, of Boston, erected in 1833. This little reservation 
 belongs to the Roman Catholic Church, and has been the goal of many 
 pilgrimages of the devout Indians of Eastern Maine. In the vicinity 
 are occasionally found arroiv-heads and tomahawks, and other relics ; 
 and it is but a few years since the chapel bell and bronze cross were 
 discovered. Here from the most ancient times had stood a populous 
 Indian village, — the chief town and capital of the Norridgewock tribe 
 — near the great cornfields on the adjacent intervales. As early as the 
 year 16 10, or ten years before the Pilgrims began to massacre the 
 Massachusetts Indians, the French people in Lower Canada opened 
 communication with Norridgewock, and founded a Christian mission 
 here. The last of the missionaries was Sebastian Rasle, a Jesuit, and 
 formerly Greek professor in the ancient French college at Nismes, who 
 settled here in 1695, and prepared a dictionary of the Abenaki language 
 (now at Harvard College), in which he taught many of his flock to 
 correspond with each other and with him. Sweet and gentle in his man- 
 ners, and charming in conversation, he won the love of the savages, and 
 grounded them firmly in the principles of his faith. The chapel was 
 the chief building and the pride of the village, and its services were 
 attended by throngs of devout worshippers. Thus consolidated, and 
 guided by the astute counsels of their aged pastor, the Norridgewocks 
 stood like a rock against the advancing and aggressive tide of English 
 colonization on the south, and often made successful and pitiless forays 
 upon the other settlements. Finally the Provincial authorities resolved 
 to annihilate this fastness of danger, and two successive military expe- 
 tions, in 1705 and 1722, burned and pillaged the village and chapel, 
 and then swiftly retreated down the valley on snow-shoes. It was 
 
58 Smnmer Days Down East. 
 
 reported that Father Rasle had erected in front of his church a flag- 
 staff, bearing a superb consecrated standard, emblazoned with a cross 
 and a bow and sheaf of arrows, and that this crusading flag was some- 
 times seen flashing like a meteor over the burning villages and murdered 
 colonists of Maine. The chieftain of the tribe went to Boston, and de- 
 manded indemnity for the destruction of the church and town ; but 
 when the authorities asked him in return to take a Puritan minister, he 
 haughtily turned away. In the summer of 1724 a body of two hundred 
 and eight soldiers marched from Fort Richmond against the village, and 
 so skilfully was their advance covered by Harmon's Rangers and a body 
 of wary Mohawk scouts, that Norridgewock was surrounded, and their 
 bullets began to fall among the wigwams before they were discovered. 
 The aged Father Rasle was shot at the foot of the village cross, while 
 endeavoring to save his people, and all who failed to break through the 
 line of environment — men, women, and children alike — were massa- 
 cred. Many fell victims to the rangers' volleys in the river while 
 trying to escape to the other shore ; and seven chiefs, who tried to pro- 
 tect their pastor with their own bodies, were slain with him. Then the 
 raiders burned the church and wigwams, and retreated in great haste 
 down the silent valley. The body of the venerable priest was mutilated, 
 and his scalp taken to Boston, where it may still be preserved in some 
 time-blackened coffer amid the Massachusetts archives and trophies. 
 
 Sixty years passed by, and the remnant of the tribe returned no 
 more. After the close of the Revolutionary War, a little group of 
 American veterans came into the deserted valley, and made for them- 
 selves farms ; but the fertile plain on which the ancient village stood 
 still remains desolate and empty, haunted by the spirits of the hapless 
 aborigines. In one of Whittier's early poems (" Mogg Megone"), the 
 village and the massacre are described with epic power : — 
 
 " And where the house of prajer arose, 
 And the holy hymn, at daylight's close, 
 And the aged priest stood up to bless 
 The children of the wilderness, 
 There is nought save ashes, sodden and dank. 
 
 And the birchen boats of the Norridgewock, 
 
 Tethered to tree, and stump, and rock. 
 Rotting along the river bank!" 
 
North Anson. 59 
 
 Out from this long and level campagna, and from the grim mem- 
 ories of the New-World crusades, the train rushes fast, and the spires and 
 white houses of a modern Yankee town soon rise by the riverside. 
 Madison Village has some large new woollen mills, and other signs 
 of prosperous industry, and is connected by a bridge with Anson, 
 beyond the Kennebec. The railroad crosses the river here, and fares 
 away northward through the woods to North Anson, the end of the 
 route, where the Carrabasset River enters the Kennebec, and the whirl- 
 ing currents and plunges of the Carrabasset Falls afford interesting 
 glimpses of river passion. North Anson is a brisk little village, with a 
 Democratic newspaper, two or three churches, and several small fac- 
 tories, while near the end of the main street is the dingy old Academy 
 where so many successful men have received their education. The 
 Carrabasset River rushes merrily down through the village, affording no 
 end of water-power, — that sovereign blessing of the Yankee heart. 
 Above is the broad and rather dreary main street, with its bazaar-like 
 shops, and the offices of various local dignitaries. 
 
 North Anson is the most northerly railway station in the Kennebec 
 Valley, and for many years will remain so, enjoying, with Skowhegan, 
 the trade of all the forest-towns beyond. The local newspaper com- 
 bats the proposed road from The Forks to Shirley with tremendous 
 vigor, as tending to drain off the Upper Kennebec trade to Bangor. 
 From the main street of the village magnificent blue mountains are 
 seen all along the western horizon, and running northward far towards 
 Canada. Prominent among these are the nine high peaks in New Vine- 
 yard, — a wild and picturesque town, which was settled, about ninety 
 years ago, by people from Martha's Vineyard. The soil is not so bad 
 as might be inferred, and the chief village has several busy factories ; 
 but the population of the town has been diminishing for many years, 
 ever since the prairie fever struck into Maine. 
 
 At North Anson is the only factory in the world for making 
 wooden shanks wherewith to support the soles of shoes in the curve 
 between the heel and ball. Here the butts of silver and white birches 
 and white maples are sliced and boiled, and split and squeezed into 
 the proper shank form, after which they are bundled together in great 
 numbers, and sent down the valley. 
 
6o Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 It is twelve miles from North Anson to the rich farming town of 
 Starks, on Sandy River; twelve miles to Industry, a decaying hill-town, 
 with four churches and 600 inhabitants; twelve miles to Skowhegan, or 
 Norridgewock ; twenty miles to Brighton ; and thirty-six miles to The 
 Forks. A stage leaves daily for Solon, eight miles up the river, where 
 connection is made with the stage from Skowhegan to The Forks. 
 
 One can drive from North Anson to Quebec in three long days 
 (the distance being one hundred and sixty miles), the last fifty miles 
 being through an almost continuous village of prolific French Cana- 
 dians, with many a tall stone church sacred to the saints of Rome. 
 
 EUSTIS AND FLAGSTAFF. 
 
 Forty-eight miles north-west of North Anson, by a road leading 
 up the beautiful intervales of the Carrabasset, is the secluded hamlet of 
 Eustis Mills, on the Dead River; and six miles beyond Kennedy 
 Smith's farm, by a buckboard road, is the famous Tim Pond, only 
 about a mile square, but fairly alive with small trout, which attract 
 sportsmen from cities hundreds of miles away. There are comfortable 
 cabins on the shore, and boats on the water. Twelve miles farther into 
 the wilderness, and within twenty miles of Canada, lie the renowned 
 Seven Ponds, the ultima tJmle of the trout-fisher, with their swarms of 
 gamy and delicious trout. Here, also, are boats and camps for the use 
 of sportsmen, under the care of Smith, the path-finder. Now and then 
 a small herd of deer may be seen coming down to the ponds, on a still 
 morning, to drink ; and of other and smaller game the wide and moun- 
 tainous forests all around are full. 
 
 This region of mountains and lakes may also be reached by way 
 of Farmington and Kingfield, although good accommodation for 
 staging is found at Brown's, in North Anson. The former road ascends 
 the Carrabasset Valley from Kingfield, and then crosses the highlands 
 by a very rough and arduous route, after which there is a final stretch 
 of ten miles of admirable road, aff'ording very grand views of Mount 
 Bigelow and its sister peaks. 
 
n 
 
Dead River and Flagstaff. 6 1 
 
 The road from North Anson passes through North New Portland, one 
 of three little factory hamlets in a township which was granted to the 
 people who suffered by the British naval bombardment of Portland in 
 1775. It has no fewer than six churches, to a declining population of 
 about 1 ,200 souls. Beyond is Dead River Village, twenty-seven miles from 
 North Anson, and here, at Parsons's inn, one can get boats and supplies to 
 ascend the river to Flagstaff and Eustis, with a portage around the pict- 
 uresque Hurricane Falls. Dead River Plantation has about lOO inhabi- 
 tants, mostly of the Methodist persuasion, and sent twelve stalwart 
 soldiers into the civil war. Here we are on the route of Benedict Arnold's 
 expedition against Quebec, and can ascend the north branch of Dead 
 River for a dozen miles (with only one short carry, at Ledge Falls), to 
 the Chain Ponds, whence the way is short across the frontier, and down 
 to Lake Megantic and the Chaudiere waters. The territory between 
 Dead River and Eustis belongs to Flagstaff Plantation, a patriotic little 
 Methodist settlement at the foot of Mount Bigelow, whose great granite 
 peaks rise to a height of 3,300 feet, and form a landmark for all Western 
 Maine. Near the river Arnold encamped for three days, and from a 
 tall flagstaff (whence the name of the plantation) beside his tent dis- 
 played the new-born American flag. 
 
 The descent of Dead River, from Eustis to The Forks, is a difficult 
 journey of over fifty miles, with carries at Ledge, Hurricane, Long, and 
 Grand Falls (the latter being twelve miles below Dead River Village), 
 and almost continuous rapids from Grand Falls for eighteen miles 
 below, A carry of about a mile leads from Long Falls to the seques- 
 tered and rarely visited waters of Long Pond, under Flagstaff Mountain. 
 
 SKOWHEGAN AND SOLON. 
 
 Returning to the Maine Central line, the favorite route to the upper 
 Kennebec region may be entered upon. It is about forty mitiutes' ride 
 (nineteen miles) from Waterville to Skowhegan, the route running 
 across the well-named town of Fairfield, famous for its fine cattle, and 
 dotted with small manufacturincf hamlets. There are beautiful views of 
 
62 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 the Kennebec close at hand on the right, whose many curves are fol- 
 lowed by the, track, with the gentle slopes of Clinton on the farther 
 shore. Just before reaching the end of the journey, the train crosses 
 the deep gorge of the Kennebec on a graceful iron bridge. The rail- 
 road ends at the brisk and prosperous manufacturing village of Skow- 
 hegan, which has 4,000 inhabitants, five churches, a newspaper, and 
 other public institutions befitting the capital of great Somerset 
 County. The chief local treasure is the water-power afforded by the 
 Kennebec, which descends twenty-eight feet in half a mile, amid huge 
 masses of rock and frowning" black ledges, sweeping stormily around a 
 great island, and foaming away through a deep cafion beyond. 
 
 Skowhegan is now one of the most enterprising and prosperous of 
 Yankee towns, and bids fair to become an important manufacturing 
 centre. The Coburn woollen-mill has recently doubled its capacity of 
 production ; large shoe-shops have been transferred here from Lynn, and 
 employ nearly five hundred persons; and many other manufactories are 
 thriving on the grand water-power of the Falls. Much of this new pros- 
 perity is due to the enterprise of Abner Coburn, ex-Governor of Maine, 
 a man worth seven million dollars, and owning vast forest townships in 
 this State and in Oregon. His spacious and comfortable home is in the 
 outskirts of the village, which was originally settled, in 1792, by his 
 father, coming from Massachusetts. 
 
 The long village street, full of semi-rural activity, contains many 
 commodious and well-stocked stores, from which the chief supplies of 
 fifty northern towns arc drawn; for this is the metropolis of the upper 
 Kennebec, and for long lines of townships toward Moosehead Lake ; 
 and many a heavily-laden farm-wagon rumbles out hence over the rural 
 roads to the homesteads in the distant valleys. Down by the river are 
 clusters of mills, rattling and thundering and clattering, and daily in- 
 creasing the wealth of the happy little town. There are two large and 
 commodious modern hotels on the main street, where wayfarers meet 
 with comfortable accommodations. Among the latest undertakings of 
 this secluded and enterprising people is the Skowhegan & Athens Rail- 
 road, a narrow-guage line northward a dozen miles, across the rugged 
 town of Cornville, to Athens, a pretty little village, toward Moosehead 
 Lake. 
 
Skowhegan and Solon. 63 
 
 There are two routes between Skowhegan and Solon, one of them 
 running through the hamlet of Madison Mills, and the other crossing 
 the long heights of Robbins Hill, from which magnificent views are 
 gained of the distant Mount Blue range, Mounts Bigelow and Abraham, 
 and the remote azure crest of Moxie Mountain, up by The Forks of the 
 Kennebec. From either of these roads frequent glimpses are given of 
 Madison Pond (or Hayden Lake), a league long, and affording a 
 favorite excursion point for the busy Skowheganites. 
 
 The most expeditious route from Boston to The Forks is by taking 
 the night train (at 7 P.M.), which reaches Skowhegan at about 7.30 in 
 the morning, or but a little time after the hour when the stage usually 
 starts, and if there is a party of half a dozen, the stage will wait for 
 them, being duly notified. The travellers reach The Forks by supper 
 time, and can press on still farther toward Moose River before dark. 
 Or they can go to Skowhegan by the day train, rest there all night, 
 purchase their supplies, and take the stage in the morning. This route 
 is preferable to that from North Anson, as it ensures one a seat in the 
 stage. The distance from .Skowhegan to The Forks is forty-six miles, 
 one of the longest stage rides in New England ; but with a fair day and 
 a good seat no great fatigue need be experienced. 
 
 Solon is a very pretty white village, built on a terrace high above 
 the Kennebec, and conspicuous from points leagues away, like some of 
 the old hill-towns of Palestine. Here Fall Brook descends rapidly 
 from the plateau down to the Kennebec, between deep-cut banks of 
 slate, with many a picturesque cascade and miniature cafion. The 
 village is remarkably clean, bright, and quiet, and contains numerous 
 pleasant old-time mansions and farm-houses, where dwell the descend- 
 ants of the bold pioneers who came hither more than a century ago. 
 The population is steadily diminishing, and is one-third less than it was 
 thirty years ago ; but the remnants of the old families still cling to their 
 ancient homesteads, and cherish the memories of their kinsmen far 
 away on the Western prairies, or out on the Pacific slope. 
 
 The population is purely American, and its chief subsistence is 
 derived from agriculture. About a mile above the village are the Car- 
 ritunk Falls, where the Kennebec plu;iges over long and abrupt ledges 
 of jagged rocks, amid clouds of spray and never-silent roaring. A mile 
 
64 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 or so south of the village, the road to North Anson, after passing a 
 dainty little Boston villa, crosses the Kennebec by a singular chain- 
 ferry, and climbs the green highlands of Embden. Near the centre of 
 Solon village is a spacious white inn, where occasional summer guests 
 are found enjoying the unconventional. It is sixty miles hence to 
 Moosehead Lake, by an arduous and hilly road through Brighton, or 
 somewhat farther by the easier Athens route. 
 
 On the opposite shore is the unfortunate town of Embden, with a 
 scattered and decreasing population of about 700, and a tax rate double 
 that of Boston. When the Somerset Railroad was being built, Embden 
 subscribed for $45,000 worth of its stock; but the line stopped short 
 before entering the township, and the unhappy farmers were left to pay 
 for what they never received. There was nothing to do but for the 
 town to default its bonds, and in the future it must face repudiation or 
 ruin. Solon was saved from a like fate by the stubborn resistance of a 
 single citizen ; and Anson issued upwards of $120,000 worth of railroad 
 bonds, which have dragged heavily on the town for years. 
 
 The stage bowls northward merrily from Solon, with frequent pleas- 
 ant views over the valley, and in eight miles it reaches Bingham, 
 where the horses are taken out, and travellers are given a chance to 
 partake of a homely and hearty dinner at the village inn. Here is the 
 last telegraph station in the valley, and several small stores give an 
 appearance of commercial activity to the broad rural street. There are 
 also some small manufactories here, on the little stream which runs 
 down from the hills and out across the rich alluvial meadows to the 
 Kennebec. The town derives its name from William Bingham, of 
 Philadelphia, who purchased a million acres of land, covering forty 
 townships, in this region, in the year 1793. The tract had originally 
 been sold to Gen. Knox, the Secretary of War, who transferred it to his 
 friend, Mr. Bingham. This gentleman died in England some years 
 later, and his agent, John Black, managed the property for the estate 
 until 1856. One of Bingham's daughters married Alexander Baring, 
 the famous London banker, who subsequently became a peer of the 
 realm, under the title of Lord Ashburton, and was engaged with 
 Daniel Webster in settling the north-eastern boundary of the United 
 States. 
 
Arnold's Expedition. 65 
 
 The next stopping place northward is Carney's Hotel, in the town 
 of Moscow, which received its name in the year when the Russians 
 destroyed their greater Moscow. Across the stream appears the 
 Carrying Place, where Arnold's army left the Kennebec, and began 
 their dreary march through the horrible jungles toward the frontier. 
 Relics of the expeditionary force are found here from time to time, 
 and traditions of the great march are still current in the valley. 
 In August, 1775, the American generals planned to send Schuyler's 
 army from New York into Canada, while Benedict Arnold should lead 
 a force of picked men through the vast Maine wilderness to strike 
 Quebec. Accordingly, Col. Arnold marched from the Continental camp 
 at Cambridge, to Newburyport, where he embarked his force and 
 sailed to the Kennebec, and up that river to Fort Western (Augusta). 
 At Norridgewock they had great difficulty, and were obliged to carry 
 their cumbrous batteaux, with supplies and stores, for a mile and a half 
 around the falls, and most of their provisions were spoiled. During 
 the last few days of the advance up the Kennebec, the stream grew 
 so shallow and rapid that the men were obliged to wade most of 
 the way, pushing and pulling the batteaux. On reaching the Carry- 
 ing Place, where the long portage to Dead River begins, the army 
 went into camp, only 950 men still remaining with the colors. 
 The next fifteen miles lay across the frowning ridges to the west- 
 ward, and through numerous morasses and ponds. The batteaux were 
 drawn by oxen, and the soldiers carried the provisions and supplies on 
 their shoulders; and, finally, after incalculable trials, the boats were 
 launched on the placid reaches of the Upper Dead River, in the 
 splendor of the mid-autumn days, and advanced toward Lake Megantic. 
 The force encamped three days at the foot of a snowy peak, which 
 Major Bigelow painfully ascended, hoping to see thence the distant 
 towers of Quebec. The mountain still bears his name. Suddenly a 
 tremendous storm swept the valley, destroying many boats, with their 
 contents, and reducing the army to sore straits. The rear-guard, under 
 Roger Enos, deserted, and re'turned to civilization ; but the main force 
 waded upward through the frozen streams, crossed the lofty water- 
 shed, launched their battered vessels on Lake Megantic, and Arnold 
 and fifty-five men descended the foaming Chaudfere for seventy miles to 
 
66 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Sertigan, a French-Canadian settlement, whence they sent back pro- 
 visions to the main body, where the troops had been reduced to the 
 necessity of eating roots, dogs, and boiled moccasins. After thirty-two 
 days in the wilderness the entire army emerged at Sertigan, whence 
 they marched as rapidly as possible against Quebec, appearing at the 
 heights of Point Levi in a driving snow-storm, while the drums were 
 beating to arms in the Gibraltar of the North. A few days later, the 
 invading force, reduced to 750 men, crossed the St. Lawrence in birch- 
 canoes, and advanced along the Plains of Abraham, until fired upon by 
 the fortress-guns. The rest is known, — the siege, the desperate assaults, 
 and the final repulse. This noble expeditionary force was an army of 
 young men. Arnold was but 35 years old, and under him were the 
 gallant youths Aaron Burr, afterwards so famous and infamous ; Henry 
 Dearborn, afterward Secretary of War, and Commander of the Northern 
 Department in the War of 1812; Daniel jMorgan, the Virginia rifle- 
 man, one of Washington's favorite officers ; Judge Henry, of Pennsyl- 
 vania; Christopher Greene, of Rhode Island, the hero of Fort Mercer; 
 Return J. Meigs, long afterwards famous in the settlement of the West ; 
 and other young fathers of the Republic. 
 
 Carney's Hotel is owned and kept by a sturdy Yankeeized Irish- 
 man, who has a large patronage in summer, from sportsmen and trout- 
 fishers. About three miles distant, near the foot of Moxie Mountain, 
 is Decker Pond, celebrated for its great depth and its gamy fish, small 
 colonics of which populate the outlet stream for over a mile. From 
 Carney's, also, many persons visit Carrying-Place Pond, crossing the 
 Kennebec at Briggs's Ferry, and going through the forest for three or 
 four miles. It is a beautiful woodland water, reflecting the great trees 
 and the blue sky in its pellucid depths," haunted by the weird cries of 
 loons, and often visited by thirsty deer. There are plenty of fish here, 
 and noble sport has been found in fishing down the outlet to the 
 Kennebec. Others go in from Carney's to Pleasant-Ridge Ponds, 
 beyond the frowning highlands on the west of the river. 
 
 Above Carney's the road runs close beside the Kennebec, and for 
 a great part of the way to The Forks is built on artificial terraces, cut 
 out of the sides of the environing hills, and almost overhanging the 
 rushing stream far below. As the sta<je swings around these curvinsz 
 
The Forks. 67 
 
 galleries, with dense green thickets overarching on both sides, and 
 the unbroken savagery of nature all about, the ride becomes highly 
 exhilarating, and the pure and bracing air of the highlands fills the 
 valley like an elixir. 
 
 "And, stretching out, on either hand, 
 O'er all that wide and unshorn land, 
 
 Slumbers the mighty wilderness! 
 The oak, upon the windy hill, 
 
 Its dark green burthen upward heaves; 
 The hemlock broods above its rill, 
 Its cone-like foliage darker still, 
 
 Against the birch's graceful stem ; 
 And the rough walnut-bough receives 
 The sun upon its crowded leaves, 
 
 Each colored like a topaz gem ; 
 
 And the tall maple wears with them. 
 The coronal which autumn gives, — 
 
 The brief, bright sign of ruin near, 
 
 The hectic of a dying year ! " 
 
 Over this road, at certain seasons of the year, pass thousands of 
 French-Canadians, on their \va)^ to the harvest-fields of Maine, bivouack- 
 ing by the wayside when evening comes, and at dawn faring on towards 
 the populous lowlands. For many years these annual processions of 
 peaceful invaders have marched down the Canada Road, in search of the 
 Yankee farmers' acceptable dollars. 
 
 THE FORKS, AND THE CANADA ROAD. 
 
 At last the low hills break down on either side, the glen widens 
 and grows more populous, and in front appears the great white hotel 
 at The Forks, where a hearty supper awaits the tired and hungry riders. 
 Here, where the Dead River comes in from the south-west, and meets 
 the Kennebec, is a hamlet of about a hundred inhabitants, with two or 
 three small stores and a school-house. It is the merest dot of Yankee 
 civilization, amid a wilderness of virgin forests and shadowy mountains. 
 
68 Stmimer Days Down East 
 
 and the guides and lumbermen who congregate in the capacious office 
 of the hotel tell many a fascinating story of the silent leagues beyond. 
 The view from the house is full of placid beauty, and the night-hours 
 are lulled by the ceaseless murmur of the rapid Kennebec, which is here 
 upwards of two hundred feet wide. 
 
 Within a few miles of The Forks are a dozen forest-bound ponds, 
 famous in the annals of angling, and well-known to the old rangers who 
 frequent the hotel. About twenty-five miles to the north-east, up the 
 rapid and turbulent Kennebec, is Moosehead Lake. The Legislature 
 has been petitioned to build a road across from The Forks, by Moxie, 
 to Shirley, near the foot of Moosehead Lake, which would bring this 
 secluded region into more direct railway communication with the outer 
 world. The distance is not far from twenty miles. 
 
 Moxie Pond, which is about ten miles long, is reached by a five- 
 mile road from The Forks, and here stand two or three neat camps, one 
 of which pertains to a hospitable Georgian. At its outlet are the pine- 
 shaded Caribou Narrows, and many a stately caribou may be seen 
 drinking from the lake above. There are other narrows cutting across 
 the blue waters ; islands, also, and reefs, and navigable tributary streams, 
 in whose cold depths the gamiest of fish await the angler's lure. On the 
 outlet, and but a short drive from The Forks, are the famous Moxie 
 Falls, where the stream gives a noble leap of nearly a hundred feet, over 
 dark and frowning cliffs. Or, if one drives down the Skowhegan road 
 nine miles, and there turns off on a rugged road to the eastward, in 
 three miles he will reach the crystalline Pleasant Pond, famous for the 
 delicious flavor of its trout. From the little settlement here, the road 
 is prolonged four miles, to Mosquito Pond, close to Moxie. 
 
 But, remote and sequestered as The Forks appears, it is metropolitan 
 in comparison with the alleged plantations farther out on the Canada 
 Road. A public vehicle leaves The Forks three times a week for 
 Hilton's inn, in Sandy Bay township, whence Canadian stages descend 
 through the townships of Quebec on the north. At The Forks the 
 Kennebec River is crossed on a massive little covered bridge, and the 
 road for three miles beyond is steep and arduous, until, after ascending 
 i,ioo feet, it emerges on a high, cold plateau, with grand mountain 
 views on every side. Outside tiiis little civilized band of road the vast 
 
Parlifi Pond. 69 
 
 sea of forests sweeps around for scores of leagues, dark, still, and awe- 
 inspiring, as when the Pilgrims first landed in Plymouth harbor. Fall- 
 ing away from the open plateau, the road enters vast overarching woods, 
 through which it burrows on until broader horizons appear at Parlin 
 Pond, fifteen miles from The Forks. Here stands the United-States 
 custom-house, guarding the frontier in this direction, and critically ob- 
 serving the imports of Canadian ponies. Here, also, is a snug tavern, 
 separated from the pond by a broad intervale, and occasionally visited 
 by sportsmen. The pond is fully three miles long, and its clean, sandy 
 bottom affords homes for many colonies of trout, for which the casual 
 visitor angles, aided by the boats and guides furnished at the hotel. 
 Five miles beyond is Adams' tavern, from whence roads and trails lead 
 to the famous Parlin-Pond dam, and Long Pond (four miles). Nine 
 miles from this forest-hostelry, and thirty miles from The Forks (still 
 on the Canada Road), is the important settlement of Moose-River Vil- 
 lage, with a couple of taverns, mills, stores, and several scores of inhab- 
 itants. If any one wants to see desolation intensified, let him keep on 
 fourteen miles further on the Canada Road, through vast, unbroken forests, 
 to the township of Sandy Bay, which is half surrounded by the rugged 
 mountain ranges of the Canadian frontier, and has a population of two 
 families. But the wisest course for the sportsman and the lover of nature 
 is to engage guides and boats at the village, and enter the adjacent laby- 
 rinth of ponds and streams, amid whose tranquil solitudes fish and game 
 and rest are found, and telegraphs are not. Close by, on the west, is 
 the island-dotted expanse of Wood Pond, several miles long, and 
 with the gallant home of a farmer at its head. The stream above broad- 
 ens out into other ponds, and finally into the picturesque and charming 
 Attean Pond, irregular, island-strewn, and overlooked by vast and lonely 
 mountains. A road one mile long leads from its western bay to Holeb 
 Pond, whence one may descend Moose River for twenty-seven miles, 
 with occasional carries around the falls, and finally drift out again into 
 Attean Pond. Men of Boston who have made this romantic journey 
 return-to it again, year after year, with great joy in the infinite restful- 
 ness of thus drifting down the forest-aisles, sleeping at night the pro- 
 found sleep of physical weariness, and eating heartily of the products 
 of their skill with the rod and ^\xn. 
 
70 Stmifner Days Down East. 
 
 It is a long and interesting journey from Moose-River Village to 
 Moosehead Lake, down the Moose River. Seven miles of smooth 
 water, overhung by vast elms, lead to Long Pond, a very beautiful 
 sheet of water, ten miles long, with rocky islands, far-projecting capes, 
 and graceful bays enough for a miniature Mediterranean, and fish 
 enough for all the Fridays of a century. There are two or three log- 
 houses, with attendant clearings, on this lovely lake. It is less than 
 ten miles thence down the stream, with occasional carries around dams 
 and rapids, to Brassua Lake, whose outlet runs into Moosehead Lake 
 in about four miles. 
 
THE RANGELEY LAKES. 
 
 THE LOWER ANDROSCOGGIN VALLEY. 
 
 HE railroad line that runs from tide-water toward the Range- 
 ley Lakes begins at Bath, and runs thence by Brunswick and 
 Leeds to Farmington, a distance of seventy-two miles. It 
 was built under the names of the Androscoggin Railroad, 
 and the Leeds and Farmington Railroad, and now forms a divis- 
 ^^ ion of the Maine Central line. The chief point on this route is 
 Lisbon Falls, a right busy manufacturing village, with the great VVo- 
 rumbo woollen mills, and other industrial hives. Here is another for- 
 midable cascade on the Androscoggin, where the Indians found many 
 fish, and doubtless enjoyed life in their grim way. As early as the year 
 1650 Thomas Purchas established a fish-house here, and sent hence to 
 London many a snug little cargo of smoked salmon. Near this point, 
 six miles above the falls, was the chief village and capital of Sebenoa, 
 the wise sachem of the Indian tribe which occupied the lower Andros- 
 coggin valley, and hither (in 1607) came Capt. Gilbert, nephew of 
 the Lord Chief Justice of England, with nine men. He was cordially 
 received here by fifty well-armed warriors, who might easily have de- 
 stroyed the little band, but preferred to give them the hospitalities of 
 the town. 
 
 A few miles beyond Lisbon, at Crowley's, a branch railway diverges 
 to Lewiston, running across to the bright Androscoggin. 
 
 (71) 
 
72 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 The Farmington train passes northward across the ridgy town of 
 Webster, a stronghold of Baptists ; and beyond the httle factory village of 
 Sabattusville it follows the shore of Sabattus Pond, a pretty lakelet of sev- 
 eral miles' length. At Leeds Junction the back route of the Maine 
 Central Railroad is crossed. Most travellers to the Rangeley Lakes come 
 up from Portland on this route, passing through Lewiston, and change 
 cars at Leeds Junction for Farmington. The line runs north, through 
 the immensely long town of Leeds, for upwards of ten miles, in which it 
 stops at three stations, each with its saw-mill and dull little hamlet. 
 Among the highlands of Leeds Gen. O. O. Howard and his gifted 
 brothers were born. 
 
 As the train rushes on through the rather lonely country, the 
 beautiful expanse of Androscoggin Pond appears on the right, sparkling 
 in the sunshine, and a mile or more away. Beyond it looms the long 
 plateau of Quaker Ridge, which commemorates an ancient Quaker 
 society of Leeds, now long since moribund. This land of venerable 
 farm-houses and lovely rural landscapes is becoming somewhat popular 
 as a summer-home for Bostonians, some scores of whom come hither 
 every season. By and by the five-mile expanse of Androscoggin Pond 
 fades away on the eastward, and the hvelier waters of the Androscoggin 
 River appear on the other side, close at hand. The route lies through that 
 happy farming country which the Indians called Rokomeka, " the great 
 corn land," and where some of the most valuable patrician cattle and 
 horses of Maine have been raised. On the left the Livermore Falls are 
 seen, whitening over long ledges, close to a pretty little manufacturing 
 village. Here are the Umbagog Pulp Mills, provided with copious 
 water-power from a massive new dam two hundred and twenty-five feet 
 long and eighteen feet high, and grinding up great numbers of logs into 
 pulp, from which a superior grade of paper for newspapers is made. 
 The daily production is several tons, and the paper takes printing-ink 
 better than paper made from rags. There are several other hopeful 
 little factories here, and during the decade between 1870 and 18S0 the 
 town gained nearly eighty inhabitants. This region was granted by 
 Massachusetts, one hundred and thirty years ago, to some of her gallant 
 veterans of the wars against Port Royal ; and about twenty years later 
 Deacon Elijah Livermore moved in, and built the first mill. His comrade 
 
Liver more and jfay. 73 
 
 in the wilderness was Major Thomas Fish, who does not seem to have 
 been entirely satisfied with the Deacon as a life-long mate, since he 
 became engaged to be married to a fair damsel in the town of Winthrop. 
 His hopes of domestic joy amid the glens of the Androscoggin were 
 doomed to a fatal ending, for on a savage winter day, while returning 
 from a precious visit to his betrothed, the Major was overwhelmed by a 
 snow-storm, and perished miserably in the vast and lonely forest. 
 
 This town was the cradle of the celebrated Washburn family, the 
 six sons of Israel of that ilk, of whom were Elihu B., long time a Con- 
 gressman, and known as " the watch-dog of the U.S. Treasury," and 
 afterwards Minister to P'rance ; Charles A, Minister to Paraguay; 
 General Cadwallader C, for many years a Congressman, and a brilliant 
 officer in the Mississippi campaigns; Israel, Jr., for ten years in Con- 
 gress, and sometime Governor of Maine; William D., Surveyor-General 
 of Minnesota; and Samuel B., a naval officer in the civil war. These 
 sturdy men have recently built, in their old home, a handsome Memorial 
 Library, of Hallowell granite, in Gothic architecture. On an adjacent 
 farm was born (in 1809) Hannibal Hamlki, for over a score of years a 
 Congressman or Senator, Vice-President of the United States from 1861 
 to 1865, and recently Minister to Spain. Governor Hunton. General 
 Learned, Editor E. B. Haskell (of the Boston Herald), and Dr. Cyrus 
 Hamlin, the celebrated missionary, were also born in this nursery of 
 heroes and statesmen. 
 
 The scenery in this region is rich in quiet pastoral beauty, and 
 amid the pure air of the high hills men grow to a great age, living 
 peaceful and contented lives of honest toil. The track follows the 
 dimpling Androscoggin northward, with broad expanses of emerald 
 meadow, overlooked b)'' very noble and picturesque mountains, and 
 enters the town of Jay, which was granted by Massachusetts, under the 
 name of Phips-Canada, to sixty-four veterans of the French war of 
 1755. In 1795 it was named in honor of John Jay, the Revolutionary 
 statesman, at that time Governor of New York. It is a rugged town, 
 dominated by the green heights of Spruce Mountain, but producing 
 large crops of corn, grain, and fruits. At Jay Bridge is a large factory, 
 where great quantities of sweet corn and apples are packed in cans, for 
 exportation. A daily stage runs from North Jay station (famous for 
 
74 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 its granite quarries) to Dixfield, fifteen miles up the Androscoggin 
 valley, near the august peak of Aunt Hepsy Brown's Mountain. 
 
 The next station is Wilton, a mile and a quarter from the village 
 of the same name, with its three churches and half-dozen factories, all 
 in a picturesque little glen under a wooded hill. Daily stages run from 
 the station twelve or fourteen miles north-westward, across the bold 
 Carthage hills, and down into the pretty hamlet of Weld, close to 
 Webb's Pond (a noble lake, seven miles long), and almost under the 
 shadow of Mount Blue. The cosey tavern here has been well-recom- 
 mended. Ten miles beyond is the mountain-girded town of Byron ; and 
 another ten miles leads to Camp Bema, at the foot of Mooselucmaguntic 
 Lake. The next station beyond Wilton is East Wilton, a pretty village 
 on a rushing brook, with four snug little churches to defend the adjacent 
 farmers against the assaults of Satan and his hosts. Not long after 
 leaving this rural station the landscape broadens and grows more 
 charming. Among the hills on the right is the village of Farmington 
 Falls, beautifully situated in an amphitheatre of hills, bending around 
 the sinuous river, and near the tomb of Jotham Sewall, the Apostle of 
 Maine, and the ancient fortress and cemetery of the Canibas Indians. 
 Beyond West Farmington the track makes a broad curve around and 
 across the lonely intervales of Sandy River, where the red men, in the 
 long-past centuries, had their corn-fields, and many a Minnehaha and 
 Nokomis watched the growing of the golden grain. 
 
 " And the maize-field grew and ripened. 
 Till it stood in all the splendor 
 Of its garments green and yellow, 
 Of its tassels and its plumage, 
 And the maize-ears full and shining 
 Gleamed from bursting sheaths of verdure." 
 
 FARMINGTON. 
 
 High on the bluff across these emerald fields rise the spires and 
 towers of Farmington, a little Athens in the backwoods; and after 
 rumbling on a wide semicircular trestle across Sandy River, and 
 
Farmington. 75 
 
 entombing itself in a cavernous railway-station, the train finally stops, 
 at the head of broad-gauge navigation. High overhead is the village, 
 the capital of Franklin County, the seat of its two newspapers, and the 
 location of twoscore small factories, — named "farming-town," or 
 Farmington, on account of "the goodness of its soil for agriculture." 
 The streets on the plateau are bordered with long lines of shade-trees, 
 back of which, across fragrant gardens of old-fashioned flowers, are the 
 neat homes of the villagers. Two or three of the churches are of 
 considerable architectural beauty. There are two hotels here, the 
 Stoddard and the Marble, where many travellers have found fair 
 accommodations while bound in to the lakes beyond. In and near the 
 village are several noted schools, chief of which is the Little Blue 
 School, occupying the picturesque estate where Jacob Abbott dwelt 
 when he wrote those charming classics of our childhood's days, the 
 Rollo books. For nearly forty years this school has been under the 
 charge of Mr. A. H. Abbott, and hundreds of men, now gray with age, 
 remember fondly the glens, and dells, and ponds about the old school, 
 and the rich exotic tulip and magnolia trees which perfume the summer 
 air. Elsewhere is the modern brick building of the Western Normal 
 School, where the old science with a new name, pedagogy, is taught, 
 under the arching trees of Main Street. 
 
 Among these peaceful scenes lived for many years Jacob Abbott, 
 whose sixty volumes of books for the young endeared him to all juve- 
 nile America ; and his brother, John S. C. Abbott, the biographer of 
 the Napoleons. Lilian Nordica (Norton), the favorite soprano of Paris 
 and St. Petersburg, is a native of Farmington, and a granddaughter of 
 Camp-meeting John Allen. This flower of the Sandy-River valley is not 
 yet twenty-five years old ; but she has dined with the Czar of Russia, 
 and now receives $12,000 a year at Paris. 
 
 The orchards of Farmington are famous for their great productive- 
 ness, and, besides the quantities exported in barrels, 70,000 gallons of 
 canned, and eighteen or twenty tons of evaporated, apples are put up 
 here yearly. A still more important product is sweet corn, which attains 
 greater perfection here than anywhere else in the United States. Hun- 
 dreds of thousands of cans are put up yearly in the factories of Farm- 
 ington, whence they are sent out to all parts of the world. There are 
 
76 Simimer Days Down East. 
 
 seventy corn-canning establishments in Maine, whose product exceeds 
 10,000,000 cans yearly, besides immense quantities of succotash. The 
 corn is picked and husked at early morning; cut from the cob by a ma- 
 chine ; boiled in sealed cans for half an hour, and then opened to let the 
 gas escape, and, finally, re-soldered. Not satisfied with these precious 
 products of their happy valley, the inhabitants claim that there is gold in 
 the bed of Sandy River, and that a few grains of the royal metal may be 
 found in every panful of earth. Sometime the Argonauts may return 
 to the old Pine-Tree State, and find bonanzas among her noble hills. 
 
 It is a very pleasant drive down the river by Farmington Falls to 
 New Sharon, a distance of nine miles (daily stages). The river runs 
 through a devious course of eight miles between the Falls and New 
 Sharon, with rich meadows and farm-lands on either side, and high blue 
 hills beyond. It has been likened to the valley of the Connecticut, for 
 its rich and tranquil pastoral scenery. There is very good boating on 
 all this long reach of quiet water; and the local tradition stoutly claims 
 that the first screw steamboat in the world was invented here, by Mr. 
 Beard, and ran upon this stream. New Sharon is a lovely village, on 
 both sides of Sandy River, near broad corn-bearing meadows, much of 
 whose product, transmuted into money and given to the adventurous 
 youth of the valley, has gone, as a chronicler dryly says, "to develop 
 new towns and States in the West." • A stately and far-viewing hill near 
 by bears the singular name of Cape Cod, in memory of its early settlers, 
 who came from that sandy and sea-girt right arm of Massachusetts. 
 This town was the birthplace of George Dana Boardman, the Apostle 
 to the Karens, who founded his great missions in Burmah as early as the 
 year 1827. A daily stage runs out from New Sharon for sixteen miles, 
 through the wonderful lake country of central Maine, to Belgrade, on 
 the Maine Central Railroad. 
 
 Another stage- route leads northward across the hills from Farming- 
 ton to remote Eustis, high up on the Dead River, passing through the 
 mountain towns of New Vineyard, New Portland, and Kingfield. It is 
 twenty-two miles from Farmington to North Anson, by a good road, 
 leading through several high mountain-passes. Another beautiful drive 
 passes through the pleasant village of Temple, to the great lake (Webb's 
 Pond) in Weld. All this lovely valley of Sandy River, with its ramparts 
 
Strojtg and Phillips. 77 
 
 of blue peaks and its hamlets of sturdy and intelligent New-Englanders, 
 affords a worthy rambling-ground for summer idlers and seekers after 
 picturesque variety in life and manners. From the streets of Farming- 
 ton, Mount Blue appears in full majesty in the near north-west ; and from 
 Powder-Horn Hill, above the village, an exquisite view is given for dim 
 leagues up and down the valley. 
 
 Five miles out, in the town of Industry, is Clear Water Fond, cover- 
 ing a thousand acres, and girdled with forests, which curve gracefully 
 around many a snug little cove, shadowing cool waters in which trout 
 are fabled to attain a weight of fifteen pounds. About the same distance 
 from Farmington, and also a favorite drive, is the Rainbow Cascade, a 
 very charming little fall, fifty feet high, on a sequestered forest-stream, 
 where the rainbows play with the deep shadows of the thronging maples. 
 
 STRONG AND PHILLIPS. 
 
 The Sandy-River Railroad. 
 
 The quaintest of narrow-gauge railroads, apparently hardly more 
 than a toy, runs from Farmington, for nineteen miles up the Sandy 
 River, to Phillips. The line and its stations and rolling-stock have cost 
 about $150,000, and the annual running expenses amount to $io,ooo. 
 The gauge is twenty-four inches, and the little cars have but a single 
 seat on each side of the aisle. The ride is full of interest and beauty, 
 for the woods are on more intimate terms with this tiny line than with 
 its broader lowland brethren, and bend down closely and curiously over 
 the way. On one side is the rapid river, with graceful sandy beaches 
 and broad reaches of pebbly strand ; and across the valley loom the 
 conspicuous peaks of the Mount-Blue range. The train rushes merrily 
 onward, over high and rattling trestles, up steep grades, and around 
 sharp curves, until one wonders what keeps it to the track, and would 
 hardly feel surprise to see it swing off independently up the mountain 
 side; At almost every cross-road it makes a brief stop, while some 
 stalwart farmer gets on or off, and then it speeds away with new vigor 
 
78 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 up the glen. Occasionally the imposing form of Mount Abraham ap- 
 pears on the far front, gliding ghost-like over the trees ; and soon the 
 train slows up at the pretty white village of Strong, on the great bend of 
 the Sandy River, and between two immense hills. It is a hopeful, 
 energetic, enterprising little place, with the usual quota of small factories 
 and smaller churches; and its citizens claim for it (whether rightly or 
 not) the honor of having been the birthplace of the Republican party. 
 
 Another fact, of which Strong should be proud, is that here was born 
 Elizabeth Akers Allen (Florence Percy), the poet, whose exquisite song 
 of " Rock me to Sleep " has been sung all round the world. 
 
 Adventurous mountaineeers, who want to look over the Maine 
 wilderness from the top of Mount Abraham, may drive out eight or ten 
 miles to Salem, whence the ascent, four miles long, can be made in 
 three hours. The summit, 3,387 feet above the sea, is covered with 
 long moss, and affords an unimpeded and magnificent outlook. 
 
 Beyond Strong the track is carried across the Porter Stream on a 
 long bridge, and then winds upward along the hill-sides, with lovely 
 views of the glens below, and the high green peaks across the valley. 
 Finally it makes a dash at Sandy River, crosses it triumphantly on a 
 rattling lattice-bridge, and stops at the end of the line, — the inex- 
 pensive statian of Phillips. The traveller who has left Boston at 8.30 
 or 9 in the morning, and lunched at Portland, gets to this point at 
 about 7 in the evening; spends the night here, and leaves a little before 
 8 next morning on the stage, and dines at Rangeley. Phillips is a 
 lively town of 1,400 inhabitants, with various manufactures, and a large 
 country trade, a brace of churches, a sparkling newspaper ( The 
 Phillips Phojiograph) , and environing miles of fertile farms. Favored 
 by its attractive scenery, and still more by its excellent hotels, it is fast 
 becoming a summer resort of some celebrity. The Barden House is a 
 large old-fashioned country inn, near the centre of the village ; and 
 farther out on the main street stands the Elmwood, a thoroughly first- 
 class house, kept by Theodore L. Page, of Boston. The only difficulty 
 widi this quaintly luxurious little hotel, one of the best in all rural New 
 England, is that the demand for rooms, throughout the summer, largely 
 exceeds the supply. Brook trout abound in the streams near Phillips, 
 to lure the sedentary sportsman ; and a valuable and highly-flavored 
 
Rangeley Lakes. 79 
 
 sulphur spring near the village gives relief to victims of rheumatism. 
 Travellers in search of natural phenomena may drive to the Sandy-River 
 Falls, in Madrid, or to the Mammoth Rock, — a wonderful boulder, three 
 or four miles out; or to the deep glens in the neighboring plantations; 
 or they can ride to within a mile of the top of Mount Blue, and ascend 
 the path to the crest, 2,804 ^^^t above the sea, where stands a signal 
 station, commanding a view as far as the ocean, and along the White- 
 Mountain range. 
 
 Greenvale and Rangeley are respectively seventeen and twenty-one 
 miles from Phillips, on Rangeley Lake, and the stage leaves betimes in 
 the morning, passing through the hamlet of Madrid, not far from Mount 
 Abraham, and surrounded with valuable spruce forests. Beyond, from 
 the lofty summit of Beech Hill, a spur of Saddle-back, 2,500 feet above 
 the sea, a magnificent view is gained ; and then the road descends rapidly 
 into the great Rangeley Basin, passing between the Sandy-River Ponds, 
 the head of this important tributary of the Kennebec, and the trout- 
 haunted Long Pond, the source of the Androscoggin. Two miles from 
 the latter the stage draws up at Greenvale, near the steamboat-pier 
 and head of navigation on these inland waters. 
 
 THE RANGELEY LAKES. 
 
 High up on the plateau of North-western Maine, at an elevation as 
 great as that of the head-waters of the Mississippi, are the famous 
 Rangeley Lakes, the fountains of the Androscoggin River, and the 
 favorite fishing-ground of New England. For forty or fifty years 
 thousands of gentlemen, who love the gentle art of dear old Izaak 
 Walton, have frequented these beautiful mountain-tarns, enwalled with 
 primeval forests, gemmed with em.bowered islands, and connected by 
 many a silvery stream with remoter recesses of the wilderness, amid the 
 haunts of bear, deer, and moose. Over the crystalline waters several 
 odd little steamboats ply back and forth, and the light cedar boats of 
 the foresters skim up and down, bearing enthusiastic knights of the 
 
So Summer Days Down East. 
 
 rod and line. Among the bordering woodlands dwell Mahng, the loon, 
 Opechee, the robin, Shuh-shuh-gah, the heron, and Adjidaumo, the 
 squirrel, with Mokwa, the great bear ; and in every camp along the 
 shore lives lagoo, the great story-teller. In the exquisitely clear waters 
 is the chosen abode of the salmo-fontina/is, classed by Agassiz with the 
 ordinary brook-trout, but sometimes attaining a weight of eight or ten 
 pounds each. From the highest of the lakes the plateau falls off to 
 the south-west in a series of vast terraces, down to the muddy levels 
 of Umbagog, two hundred and fifty feet below, yet more than twelve hun- 
 dred feet above the sea; and everywhere the scenery is wild, aboriginal, 
 and primitive, and worthily echoes the ponderous polysyllabic names 
 which the long-extinct barbarians bestowed upon these happy hunting- 
 grounds. With every returning season larger and larger companies of 
 tired city men come up to these restful solitudes to drink in the blessings 
 of the pure, sweet air, and to lure the gamy trout from their coverts in 
 the deep pools. There comes a time, in our fierce American summers, 
 when with poor old Falstaff we ^' babble o' green fields," and then it is 
 pleasant to seek these sylvan heights, far away in the virgin wilderness. 
 As Shakespeare, in the gloomy old Globe Theatre of London, dreamed 
 of the moonlight on the Avon, and Wordsworth could see the solemn 
 arches of Tintern Abbey across the smoky streets of the British 
 metropolis, and Daniel Webster at W^ashington beheld with his spiritual 
 eves the blue sea beating along Marshfield beach, so thousands of 
 weary merchants and professional men in our cities stop in their labors, 
 from time to time, and in fancy look over the dimpling wavelets of the 
 Rangeleys and hear the wild cry of the northern loon. 
 
 The clang of the metropolitan fire-bells, the ceaseless tinkle of the 
 horse-cars, the maddening click of the ticker, and the thousand noises 
 of the city, are replaced here by soothing and primeval melodies, — 
 Minnewawa, the sound of the wind in the trees, and Mudway-aushka, 
 the lapping of the waves on the shore, in the Moon of Strawberries, 
 or the Moon of Falling Leaves. It is a time and place in which 
 to avoid the excitements of the urban Heralds and Journals and 
 Tribunes, and to dream over the woodland achievements of Hiawatha, 
 the illuminated wanderings of Thoreau and Winthrop, and the racy 
 Munchausen stories of the lake guides. After fifty weeks of treadmill 
 
Range ley Lakes. 8i 
 
 life in our brick and brownstone cities, the yearning for Nature's freedom 
 breaks out in the cry, ''I go a-fishing," even although the vacation 
 tourist may share Josh Billings' rueful experience: "There are plenty 
 of two-pound trout, but I always manage to get there about ten days 
 too late." The limpid atmosphere is unchangeable, and Thoreau says 
 that the very air of Maine is a diet-drink. It is a liquid food that costs 
 nothing, a beef-iron-and-wine tonic that is imbibed with every inspira- 
 tion, an aerial Apollinaris Spring covering hundreds of cubic miles. 
 Starr King calls lakes embodied sympathies, and Goethe sees in them 
 the eyes of the landscape. Whittier, the poet of New-England nature, 
 found that by such sweet waters as these, — 
 
 " Life's burdens fall, its discords cease, 
 I lapse into the glad release 
 Of Nature's own exceeding peace. 
 
 "The western wind hath Lethean powers, 
 Yon noon-day clouds Nepenthe showers, 
 The lake is white with lotus-flowers." 
 
 Four hours after leaving Phillips the stage pulls up at Greenvale, 
 at the head of Rangeley Lake, where there is a comfortable inn, with 
 carriages and boats to let, and situated in a region where good fishing 
 abounds. From the grassy hill near by, a broad bird's-eye view is 
 given over the waters of the lake, and out upon its low enwalling moun- 
 tains. The road goes on from Greenvale three miles, along the shore 
 of the lake, to Rangeley, the metropolis of this amphibious region, a 
 village of twenty or more houses, with several stores and small work- 
 shops, and two hotels, — the Rangeley-Lake House, with cupola and broad 
 piazzas, and rooms for seventy-five guests, and the smaller Oquossoc 
 House, which commands a noble view over the lakes and hills. These 
 hotels were built in 1876-77, and have very good accommodations, con- 
 sidering their remoteness from the world ; and attached to them are 
 livery stables and boatmen galore. A rather rugged road follows the 
 north shore of the lake from this village to the hotel at the Outlet, a 
 distance of perhaps seven miles. 
 
 The best way of travelling beyond Greenvale is (of course) the 
 steamboat; one of the least of steamboats, to be sure, but affording an 
 
82 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 easy and safe conveyance across these narrow waters. The Molly- 
 cJmnkaimink is not so long a craft as her name would indicate; but she 
 meets the miniature billows right gallantly, and runs across the lake 
 from Greenvale to Rangeley, and thence to the Outlet, a distance of 
 nine miles, passing Ram Island and other wee bits of islets, and giving 
 notable views of the great hills along the coast. The Indian name of 
 this famous sheet of water was Oquossoc^ and the present name, dear to 
 thousands of sportsmen, commemorates an eccentric English gentle- 
 man, who gave up his tentative land-speculations in Virginia in order to 
 found a little feudal sovereignty in the wildest corner of New England. 
 He was a florid and hearty gentleman, always hospitable, very courtly in 
 his manners, well dressed and well housed, and rich in bankable funds, 
 in the possession of 70,000 woodland acres, in the love of two blooming 
 daughters and several stalwart sons, and in the hopes, which he con- 
 stantly kept bright, of a future time in which the developed gold mines 
 and lumber mills and the perfected inland navigation of his domain 
 should give him a ducal power in Western Maine. A few score of 
 Yankees were drawn into the wilderness to follow his fortunes, and the 
 squire built a little red chapel, in which they and his very dear wife 
 could hear the Episcopal service on Sundays and saints' days. All 
 these things occurred half a century ago, and their memory has become 
 vague and confused. In his fifteen years of life at the lakes he found 
 that his Yankee neighbors would not take kindly to the idea of landlord 
 and tenantry, and that neither his handsome house and accomplished 
 family, nor his notable achievements in mill-building and road-making, 
 could secure him seigniorial rights and honors from the practical pio- 
 neers about him. 
 
 It was during Tyler's administration, while the Florida War and 
 Dorr's Rebellion were going forward, and Fremont was exploring the 
 Wind-River Mountains, that Mr. Rangeley grew discouraged, and 
 abandoned his forest principality, retiring to Portland, and thence to 
 North Carolina, where he died, twenty years later. On the whole rather 
 a picturesque and romantic individual, and worthy to have his name 
 perpetuated for some centuries yet. 
 
 But, earlier even than Squire Rangeley's settlement, this wilderness 
 was penetrated and occupied by sturdy old Deacon Hoar, of Leominster. 
 
Raugeley Lakes, ^2> 
 
 From Phillips he advanced for four days, deep into the grim solitudes 
 beyond, dragging after hini a hand-sled, on which were all his household 
 goods and two of his youngest babies. Behind this group followed 
 Mrs. Hoar, also on foot, and leading five more children. The vast wil- 
 derness of Maine was attacked by hundreds of such heroic processions, 
 from fifty to eighty years ago ; but it baffled them all, and still remains 
 the unconquered fastness of Nature. 
 
 Rangeley Lake is one thousand five hundred and twelve feet above 
 the sea, and the village on its shore stands higher than even Bethlehem 
 of the White Mountains. In the south rises the long Beaver Mountain ; 
 on the west is Bald Mountain, four thousand feet high, and a landmark for 
 all the upper lakes ; and on the north, several miles away, rise the vast 
 dark ridges of Saddleback, higher than Chocorua or Kearsarge. The 
 lake is nine miles long, and about three miles wide, and along its rolling 
 banks are several sunny farms. 
 
 •Kennebago is about five miles long, a narrow lake winding among 
 high hills, and reflecting the bare crests of several Alpine peaks. The 
 peculiar beauty of the shores, with their dainty, sandy beaches, and 
 groves of sturdy trees, is largely due to the fact that there is no dam at 
 the outlet to raise the waters and kill the trees on the banks. There is 
 a camp at the head of the lake, where sportsmen get simple and hearty 
 board while seeking the small but plucky trout that dwell in these 
 waters. The inlet-stream leads in three miles to Little Kennebago Lake. 
 Twelve miles north of Kennebago, by the Kennebago River, are the 
 Seven Ponds, in an uninhabited township that corners on Canada. 
 Many enthusiastic and hardy trout-fishers visit these remotest of the 
 Ran-geley waters, going by boat to the head of Little Kennebago, and 
 walking thence for six or eight miles. Across the unexplored and un- 
 named mountain on the north is the lonely valley of Dead River, 
 through which Benedict Arnold led his doomed army. Kennebago is 
 reached from Rangeley by riding three miles to a hill-top which over- 
 looks the entire region, and then walking eight miles down a rough, but 
 well-worn, forest-path. 
 
 At Rangeley Outlet, with a pleasant view up the lake from its broad 
 piazzas, is Kimball's Mountain-View House, — a two-story building, 
 several years old, with forty sleeping-rooms, which are proudly adver- 
 
84 Sununey Days Down East. 
 
 tised as "lathed and plastered, and suitable for the accommodation of 
 ladies." Attached to the house is a livery-stable, and on the silvery- 
 waters before it floats a squadron of boats. Near by are the Lake Point 
 Cottage, the Oquossoc Angling Association's camp, and a large hatch- 
 ing-house, where a million spotted trout are hatched every winter. A 
 road, a mile and a half long, leads down the Outlet from Kimball's 
 to Indian Rock, the site of Camp Kennebago, the head-quarters of the 
 Oquossoc Angling Association, — a powerful New-York company, with 
 great sums invested hereabouts, active in stocking the lakes with young 
 fish, and very vigilant in enforcing the wise game- laws of Maine. At 
 this point they own numerous buildings and a fleet of thirty boats, be- 
 sides other camps and adjacent waters; and here, in a delightful semi- 
 primitive manner, they entertain their guests and themselves, and spread 
 a joyous table In the midst of the wilderness. In July and August 
 outsiders arc allowed to board at Camp Kennebago. Indian Rock is at 
 the confluence of the Rangeley stream and Kennebago River, whence 
 Oquossoc River flows down to Cupsuptic Lake, nearly a mile distant. 
 The head-quarters of sportsmen in the lake region, forty or fifty years 
 ago, was at this place, where the old-time guides had their rendezvous. 
 
 Cupsuptic Lake, one of the prettiest in the group, island-gemmed 
 and girt by wooded hills, lies close to Camp Kennebago, whence boats 
 may be easily rowed five miles across Cupsuptic, and four miles up the 
 Kennebago River to Cupsuptic Falls, above which eight miles of navi- 
 gable (but swift and shallow) water lead to the portage (eight long 
 miles over hills and ridges) which crosses to Parmachenee Lake. A 
 guide should be secured at Indian Rock for this journey. The long 
 promontories and enclosed sandy beaches which surround Cupsuptic 
 make beautiful episodes of scenery all around the quiet tarn ; and the 
 Narrows, the great thoroughfare of the upper lakes, affords the best of 
 fishing. Here many a recreating citizen adopts the goodly creed that 
 '' a thing of duty is a bore forever," and lazily studies the chief lesson 
 of Italian civilization, the charming dolce far nientc. 
 
 Moosclucmaguntic Lake lies below Indian Rock, and is connected 
 with Cupsuptie by navigable narrows, on and near which are sevpral 
 comfortable camps and cabins, with lovely views down the ten miles of 
 the great lake. At the end of the two-mile carry from Rangeley Outlet, 
 
Ran gel ey Lakes. 85 
 
 at Haines' Landing, is Richardson's camp, with twenty "lathed and 
 plastered " rooms, in a two-story house, and accommodations for sixty 
 sojourners. This is the chief hotel hereabouts, and at the landing in 
 front touches the little steamer Oqiiossoc, which makes the tour of the 
 lake every day. Three or four miles below is Bugle Cove, a picturesque 
 and beautiful locality, the seat of Allerton Lodge, over which rises the 
 ponderous Bald Mountain (not bald at all, in fact, but partly cleared on 
 top, for the view, and climbed by a path from the Lodge). At the south 
 end of the lake is Camp Bema, under the care of Captain Fred C. Barker, 
 where thirty guests can find accommodations, and luxuriate on mattresses 
 and spring-beds, in a group of log huts. The fishing here is very good, 
 and the view down the lake, and including several large islands and dis- 
 tant mountain-ranges, is full of beauty. The curving sandy beach near 
 the camp is more than a mile long, and in the background rise the long 
 Bema Mountains, lonely amid the forests. Mooselucmaguntic, the 
 musically named, is the largest and most diversified of the upper lakes, 
 rich in islands, promontories, coves, and mountains, and highly favored 
 by the most patrician of trout. The distance from Indian Rock to Camp 
 Bema is seventeen miles, and it is seven miles thence to the Upper Dam. 
 Some of the islands are so large that valuable rafts of timber have been 
 cut from them ; others, especially in the great archipelago near Brandy 
 Point, form a labyrinth of insulated rocks and groves, — a miniature 
 Thousand Islands. As the Oqiiossoc glides over the lake striking viifvvs 
 are gained of the Bema Mountains at the south, the Bald Mountain ridge 
 on the east, and the Kennebago, Aziscoos and Boundary Mountains on 
 the north. Farther away, in the south-west, occasional glimpses are 
 vouchsafed of the distant White Mountains, at the end of long vistas of 
 blue water. The Oqiiossoc plies between Indian Rock, Camp Bema, and 
 the Upper Dam daily; and the Ciipsiiptic (least of steamers) runs up 
 frequently through the lake and to the falls whose bibulous name she 
 bears. 
 
 The Upper Dam is a vast and massive structure of heavy timber, 
 iron, and rocks, fifteen hundred feet long, erected in 1845-47, and pur- 
 chased in 1877, together with the other dams hereabouts, for $350,000, 
 by the company that furnishes water-power to the mills at Lewiston. 
 Many millions of dollars' worth of logs have passed through this great 
 
86 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 warder of the lakes, which in June and July raises the waters above 
 upwards of ten feet, overflowing many a lovely beach and romantic 
 islet. The Upper Dam Camp consists of two rude buildings, a refectory 
 and a dormitory; and here the lamented Tiieodore Winthrop had his 
 experience with Bourgogne, so delightfully recorded in '' Life in the Open 
 Air." About the middle of June there is great excitement here, when 
 the logs from above sweep through the cataracts of the opened sluice, 
 by thousands, turning and twisting and leaping in every direction, and 
 preceded by great batteaux skilfully guided by gigantic woodsmen. 
 
 There are famous fishing grounds near the Upper Dam, where 
 spotted brook trout of seven pounds have been captured, and where 
 the long vista down the stream is terminated by the distant peak of 
 Aziscoos. It is half a mile from Trout Cove, on Mooselucmaguntic, to 
 Echo Landing, where the steamboat is taken on the next lake below. 
 
 The beautiful lake which opens below the Upper Dam bears the 
 name of Moilychunkamunk, or the Upper Richardson Lake, and its 
 shores are dotted with the camps and lodges of sportsmen, usually 
 rather pretty cottages, built on conspicuous points. The trout in this 
 lake average over a pound each, and are caught by thousands. Occa- 
 sionally a ten-pound trout may be captured. Hundreds of thousands 
 of artificially hatched young trout and landlocked salmon are turned 
 loose here yearly. A path leads from the head of the lake, in a little 
 over a mile, to the Richardson Ponds, famous for their deer and cari- 
 bou, as well as for fishing, and beautified by many a lovely islet. 
 Aziscoos may be reached by a steep blazed trail two miles long, which 
 begins two miles from the settlement on the Magalloway; and its sum- 
 mit, covered with blueberries and huge square blocks of granite, com- 
 mands a magnificent view of the Magalloway and Rangclcy valleys, 
 the distant White Mountains, Katahdin far in the cast, and the long 
 lines of the Boundary Mountains. The top of Aziscoos is five miles 
 from the Richardson Pond, whence it may be ascended by skilful 
 foresters. 
 
 A tiny steamer runs up and down the lake daily, leaving the pier a 
 short walk from the Upper Dam, and near Camp Bellcvuc, a Philadel- 
 phian institution. Steaming down the lake, it passes Camp Aziscoos, 
 the head-quarters of the Boston Club, and Camp Whitney (pertaining 
 
Range ley Lakes. 87 
 
 to San Francisco gentlemen), a delightfully equipped hunting-lodge, 
 whence trails run to all parts of the adjacent wilderness. Near the 
 outlet of the lake is Metalic Point, whence a trail leads inland to the 
 paradise of deer and ducks, Metalic Pond. Mollychunkamunk is over 
 five miles long, and about a third as wide, with the low mountains 
 thronging around its shores, making many a Trosach-like view, over 
 which far-away blue peaks here and there shoot up into sight. The 
 lake covers ten square miles, and its clear cold waters are inhabited by 
 the choicest and daintiest of trout. The immense sesquipedalian name 
 of this little lake is thus happily explained by Theodore Winthrop : 
 " Bewildered Indian we deem it, — transmogrified somewhat from 
 aboriginal sound by the fond imagination of some lumberman, finding 
 in it a sweet memorial of his Mary far away in the kitchens of the 
 Kennebec ; his Mary so rotund of blooming cheek ; his Molly of the 
 chunky mug." 
 
 The picturesque and navigable strait called the Narrows is two 
 miles long, and very rocky, with a singular wall of rock running along 
 its right bank, and down this blue aisle in the forest the little steamboat 
 rushes, passing from Mollychunkamunk into the Lower Richardson 
 Lake, usually called by its ancient and pretty Lidian name of VVelo- 
 kennebacook. Just as the boat glides out on these broader waters, a 
 very noble view is opened on the southward, where the distant Mount 
 Washington and his gigantic brethren rise above the forest, and beyond 
 Speckled Mountain, and other guardians of Grafton Notch. Eight 
 miles from the Upper Dam the boat runs up to the wharf at the Mid- 
 dle Dam, on the outlet of Welokennebacook, and thence steams down 
 by Loon Bay, Spirit Island, and other picturesque localities, to the 
 South Arm, the remotest corner of the lake. The lower lakes are 
 frequently visited by the Andover route, which leaves the railway at 
 Bryant's Pond, and passes north for thirty-three miles, by the pretty 
 village of Andover, to the South Arm. 
 
 The Middle Dam holds the waters of Welokennebacook and Molly- 
 chunkamunk at a high level, as one of the reservoirs of the Andros- 
 coggin water-power. Close by it is a two-and-a-half-story hotel, with 
 piazzas and 'Mathed and plastered" rooms, frequented by sportsmen, 
 and commanding a lovely view from its piazzas, up the long vistas of 
 
88 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Welokennebacook. It is about six miles hence down the portage road, 
 alongside the Rapid River, and past several camps, to the landing of 
 the steamboat on Umbagog Lake. 
 
 Umbagog is the lowest and largest of the lakes, being but 1,256 
 {qqX. abovethesea, and coveringeightecnsquaremiles with its red andturbid 
 waters. Far away appear the lofty spires of the White Mountains, the 
 Dixville highlands, the Diamond Peaks, Aziscoos and the Boundary 
 range, and scores of nameless and unvisited hills. The steamboat runs 
 from the Richardson-Lake road across the lake, and down its outlet for 
 a mile or so, past the inflowing of the Magalloway, to Errol Dam, 
 whence a highway leads up to Dixville Notch and Connecticut Lake. 
 Steaming back into Umbagog, the course is laid southward for several 
 leagues, to the head of the lake, where the steamer runs into the Cam- 
 bridge River, and soon reaches the hotel in Upton, where connection is 
 made with stages through the Grafton Notch, to Bethel. 
 
 About seventy miles north of Umbagog is Parmachenee Lake, deep 
 in the heart of tlie wilderness. The steamboat ascends the rapid Magal- 
 loway for about ten miles, nearly to the head-quarters and hotel of the 
 Berlin Mills Lumbering Company; and above that point the traveller 
 must do his touring in a row-boat, often alighting for long portages 
 around roaring rapids, or for attacks on the trout of the clear inflowing 
 brooks, or to pass the nights in the half-savage camps of the pioneers. 
 The stream slips down blackly between walls of evergreen forest, or 
 sweeps the long coasts of natural meadows, dotted with royal elms ; or 
 flashes down over long inclines up which the pilgrims of pleasure wade, 
 towing their boats. Sometimes the woods open out, and reveal magic 
 glimpses of the Diamond Peaks, or lofty Azicoos, or the colossal semi- 
 amphitheatre of Half-moon Mountain, or the rugged and lonely peaks 
 along the Canadian frontier. 
 
 Parmachenee is a very lovely lake, five miles long and three wide, 
 and nestling deep among a group of gently sloping hills, clad with 
 verdure to the water's edge, and inhabited only by game, large and 
 small. The altitude of this region is so great, and the air is so exquisitely 
 pure and bracing, that a sojourn here, even though unattended by the 
 exhilarations of hunting and fishing, is full of benefit to the exhausted 
 citizen. On a romantic islet near the head of the lake is Camp Caribou, 
 
Rangeley Lakes. 
 
 89 
 
 a cluster of buildings where fifty guests can be accommodated at once, 
 while being initiated into the mysteries of the woodland craft by John 
 Danforth, the veteran guide, who has constructed comfortable camps at 
 a dozen trout-populated ponds in the adjacent forests. An old portage 
 road leads from Little Boy's Falls, two miles from Camp Caribou, for 
 eight very long miles through the woods, to the Second Connecticut 
 Lake, one of the reservoirs of the Connecticut River. 
 
THE SEA-BOARD OF MAINE. 
 
 BATH, AND THE MOUTH OF THE KEN- 
 NEBEC. 
 
 jROM the dim green heart of the forest, on the edge of the 
 ahnost unexplored Eastern Townships of Canada, turn we to 
 the rocky shores of the ocean, .where the restless waves for- 
 ever beat against the iron-bound and unyielding shore. It 
 is a straight-away track from Phillips down to Bath, and the 
 train traverses the distance in five hours, down the Sandy-River 
 and Androscoggin valleys. 
 
 Bath is a quaint old inaritime city, stretching sleepily along the 
 Kennebec, which is here both broad and deep, and presenting from the 
 river the appearance of a place of considerable magnitude. It has about 
 8,000 inhabitants, a dozen churches (of which those of the Free Baptists 
 are most numerous), capital schools, half-a-dozen banks, two newspapers, 
 a public library, and a stately monument to commemorate the one 
 hundred and seventeen soldiers out of its contingent of seven hundred 
 and sixty-five (one-tenth of the population), who died on the Southern 
 battle-fields. The earliest settlement here was made by Robert Gutch, a 
 minister from Salem, and two companions, in 1657, after they had 
 bought the land from the Indian sachem, Robin Hood. A little over a 
 century later, the citizens seized the King's Dock and its British com- 
 mandant, and beat back, from a battery down the river, two incoming 
 royal gunboats. The ship-building industry had already been founded 
 
Bath. 9 1 
 
 here by Captain Swanton, a veteran of the French wars, and grew amain, 
 until Bath became widely famous for its swift and seaworthy vessels. 
 In i854fully 94,000 tons of shipping were built here; and then the busi- 
 ness declined rapidly, until the year before the civil war, when the 
 product fell to 18,400 tons. Nevertheless, between 1859 and 1882, the 
 tonnage built was 464,217. Recently this industry has increased very 
 notably, and now more sailing-vessels are built in the Bath district than 
 in any State of the Union. The tonnage in 1882 was above 39,000, and 
 13,000 tons were on the stocks at the beginning of 1883. Among these 
 were several ships of over 2,000 tons each. The firm of Goss & Sawyer 
 alone has built more than one hundred and sixty vessels within fifteen 
 years, with a tonnage exceeding 125,000, and is now turning out a com- 
 pleted vessel every fortnight. Extensive works are now in preparation 
 for the construction of iron ships and steamers, boilers and engines, and 
 it is hoped that at no distant day stanch and stately ships, constructed 
 from the magnificent Katahdin iron, may sail from this port. There are 
 three miles of ship-yards, occupied by more than a thousand skilled 
 mechanics, substantial and intelligent citizens, whose weekly wages aver- 
 age above $16.00 each. The greater part of the lumber used is brought 
 from the Southern States, Maine contributing only the hard-wood and 
 hackmatack. Occasionally a large vessel is rigged, ballasted, and pro- 
 visioned while on the stocks, and launched, with colors flying, and crew 
 on board, leaving port immediately for distant foreign voyages. Bath 
 builds more wooden ships than any other place in the world, and has 
 produced more than $50,000,000 worth of them within a century. The 
 wide, deep, salty river, with its bold shores and sheltering hills, gives 
 good natural advantages for this business ; but the chief reason for its 
 development is found in the skill and energy of the people. " The men 
 of Bath, born in the seventeenth century," says the local historian, 
 "were reckoned a half-head taller than the men of any other community 
 in the country. They were a race of giants in size and strength." Their 
 Maine forests have faded away; but they draw to this remote point 
 lumber from Georgia and Canada, spars from Oregon, wire rigging from 
 Europe, add to these their own labor and ingenuity (reckoned at one- 
 third the cost of a ship), and construct vessels that are known in all 
 seas. 
 
92 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 A little way down the river, at a time (1601) when many of the 
 Pilgrim Fathers were still at school in England, Popham's colonists 
 launched the first vessel ever built within the present territory of the 
 United States. They named her the Virginia, of Sagadahoc, and she 
 sailed merrily away to England, and thence to Virginia. In 1674 Sir 
 William Phips built a ship, across the river from the present Bath, and 
 when she was ready for sea the Indians were pressing so hard on the 
 settlers that the latter all got on board, and sailed away to Boston. 
 Ninety-two years later came Swanton, and built a dozen good three- 
 masters here. In 1771 the Rev. F"rancis Winter drove into Bath with the 
 first carriage which had ever been seen there, having been obliged to 
 take it to pieces several times on the way, and carry the parts across 
 bad places in the roads. Thirty years later the United-States mails 
 were brought to Bath on horseback. The roads were of minor impor- 
 tance, for the homes and routes of the people were upon the ocean. 
 
 The sea is about a dozen miles away, but the Kennebec is fully half 
 a mile wide at this point, and bears a large coastwise and foreign trade 
 to the city wharves. The chief hotel at Bath is the Sagadahoc House, 
 — a large and commodious brick building on the main street, not far 
 from the handsome stone edifice which is occupied by the United- 
 States post-office and custom-house. The people of Bath are highly 
 cultivated and widely connected, and have many visitors during the 
 summer, which gives a sort of watering-place gayety to the town. The 
 local livery stables give the best of facilities for driving, whether the 
 route is over the beautiful wood road, on the plains, or down to Adams', 
 prolific in clams, or out along the adjacent shores ; and the river is alive 
 with boats, sailing to the picnic grounds of Woolwich and Arrowsic, or 
 down to the green islands below, or by steamboat through the delightful 
 short routes to Squirrel Island or Fort Popham. 
 
 The mouth of the Kennebec River is guarded by Fort Popham, — 
 a ponderous granite structure on which the National Government has 
 spent great sums of money, and to little purpose, since the works were 
 never finished, and in 1882 the cannon and shells were removed from 
 the walls and magazines. Near this picturesque and half-dismantled 
 fortress is the long sweep of Hunnewell's Beach, of late years becoming 
 more and more known abroad as the site of the Eureka Mouse, to which 
 
Bathy and Mouth of the Kennebec. 93 
 
 small steamboats run daily from Bath. In the vicinity are extensive 
 cranberry-meadows, whose products bring high prices at Boston. These 
 localities are in the famous peninsular town of Phippsburg, which is 
 joined to the mainland near Bath by the Winnegance Carrying Place, 
 less than half a mile wide, and extends into the sea for more than a 
 dozen miles, a long and narrow tongue of land, indented by beautiful 
 bays and fiords, dotted with bright fresh-water ponds, and enlivened by 
 three or four semi-amphibious hamlets. The very picturesque scenery 
 of the adjacent beaches and islands derives an added interest from the 
 historic associations which cling to them. 
 
 It was In 1607 that the Plymouth Company, excited by Weymouth's 
 discovery of a new terrestrial paradise in Maine, sent out the ships Mary 
 and John and Gift of God, commanded by George Popham, brother of 
 the Lord Chief-Justice of England, and bearing one hundred and twenty 
 planters, to found a colony on this coast. They settled on the peninsula 
 of Phippsburg, with religious ceremonies of the Episcopalian variety, and 
 built a twelve-gun fort, a ship, and fifty log-cabins, where they were visited 
 by many of the neighboring Indian chieftains. The colonists, after the 
 deaths of several of their leaders, repaid the hospitalities of the natives 
 with horrible atrocities. Once they induced a party of their red-skinned 
 friends to pull a loaded cannon across the parade-ground, and while 
 they were in line before it fired off the gun, killing and wounding 
 nearly all of them. The assembled tribes soon laid siege to the place, 
 and carried the fort by escalade, after which, as they were revelling in 
 the captured works, the magazines blew up, killing a great number of 
 them, and causing the rest to flee away in abject terror. A few months 
 later the remains of this evil and ill-fated colony abandoned the place 
 forever, and returned to England, reporting that the aborigines, whom 
 •they had so shamefully outraged, were " the outcasts of civilization, — 
 the very ruins of mankind." Governor Popham died and was buried at 
 the colony, among his last words being, " I die content. My name will 
 always be associated with the first planting of the English race in the 
 New World." 
 
 In 1614 Capt. John Smith made his head-quarters at the mouth of 
 the Kennebec, while on that profitable trading expedition in which, for 
 a few trifles, he secured eleven thousand beaver skins, and four hundred 
 
94 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 marten and otter skins. Capt. Hunt treacherously seized twenty-four 
 Indians hereabouts, whom he took to Malaga, Spain, and sold for $ioo 
 each. The next year still further disasters overtook the natives, when 
 the Penobscot and Kennebec tribes went to war with each other, and 
 were almost exterminated. Those whom the tomahawk and arrow 
 spared were swept off by a terrible pestilence (yellow fever or small- 
 pox), and left the land almost empty. A volume would fail to tell of 
 the merciless wars which, for over a century, broke over this fair penin- 
 sula, from time to time, when the brave and indomitable survivors en- 
 deavored to extinguish the English colonies in blood. 
 
 BOOTHBAY AND ITS ISLANDS. 
 
 Within a very few years the pretty islands off the mouth of Booth- 
 bay harbor have attained the dignity of great summer-resorts, which 
 are visited by many thousands of people every year, and are famous 
 all along the Atlantic seaboard. At first their visitors were altogether 
 people from Maine; but the fame of the purity of the island air, and 
 the beauty of the scenery, and the genial bonliojuie of the assembled 
 companies, soon secured a wider recognition, and now Squirrel and its 
 neighbors have guests from all over the broad Union. 
 
 The little steamboats Sebenoa and Sasanoa run from Bath to the 
 Boothbay islands, a distance of fifteen miles, through the intricate and 
 picturesque passages which connect the Kennebec and Sheepscot Rivers. 
 It is a trip filled with charming surprises, leading through deep and 
 narrow straits, between rocky shores fringed with floating sea-weed, and 
 under noble promontories and high-crested islands, whose garniture of 
 trees is reflected in the clear sea-water below. And, besides all this 
 charm of nature, there is hardly another locality on the coast so con- 
 secrated by legends and romantic annals of the remote past. 
 
 Crossing the broad Kennebec from Bath, the boat runs through the 
 bridge which connects Woolwich with ancient Arrowsic, and follows the 
 shore of the latter for several miles, through the rushing tides of Upper 
 
Boothbay and its Islands. 95 
 
 Hell Gate, and around the ghost-haunted cliffs of Hockomock Point. 
 Arrowsic is an island-town, running south seven miles to the cliffs of 
 Bald Head, and having about two hundred and fifty inhabitants. The 
 gloomy annals of the seventeenth century redden when they record the 
 frequent disasters of this ill-fated colony, thrice swept by the Indians, 
 and stained all over with conflagration and massacre. 
 
 Leaving Phip's Point on the left, the obedient little boat, held well 
 in hand, runs up a snug cove to Westport Upper Landing, and then down 
 through the boiling caldron of Lower Hell Gate to Westport Lower 
 Landing, passing several dainty little islets mirrored in the stream. 
 Westport is an island-town, eleven miles long from the old fortifications 
 on Squam Heights to the southern point. There are about 6oo 
 inhabitants, with a few farms, but mainly devoted to the sea and its 
 mysterious harvests. Beyond the landing-places at Riggsville the boat 
 crosses the mouth of the estuary which nearly cuts Georgetown in two, 
 and runs out through a very picturesque strait into the Sheepscot River, 
 touching again at Fire Islands, where several Maiden and Boston families 
 have established summer homes. The largest of these islands was 
 bought in 1870 for $200, and has a group of club-cottages, a common 
 dining hall and kitchen, and hall, and yacht. It covers twelve acres, 
 part of which is occupied by pretty groves of spruce and fir. 
 
 After a short run across the mouth of the Sheepscot, with the open 
 sea on the right, the snug narrows north of Southport being traversed, 
 the outer harbor of Boothbay is entered, and the course is laid for the 
 joyous archipelago, Capitol, Mouse, and Squirrel Islands, with beautiful 
 marine scenery on every side, Boothbay village on the left, and the 
 broad ocean on the right. 
 
 Boothbay's two small hotels are overflowed by summer guests, who 
 •clamber about the crooked hill-streets and among the gray old wharves, 
 and sail up and down the harbor, and among the islands beyond. There 
 are about 4,000 inhabitants in the town, mostly dependent on the ever- 
 generous sea for a living, and passing rich in the possession of one of 
 the finest harbors in New England, wherein sometimes several hundred 
 sail of fishing-vessels take refuge. Many thousands of barrels of porgies 
 have been brought into this little port, and made into oil, the refuse 
 being afterwards used for phosphate fertilizers. There are now large 
 
96 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 dog-fish works here ; and another important industry is the storage and 
 shipment of vast quantities of ice. At the little custom-house is a museum 
 of curiosities, — John Brown's shackles, Zulu assegais, a brick from the 
 house where Columbus was born, and many strange relics of war and of 
 the fisheries. 
 
 Captain Weymouth, in the Archangel, lay in this haven (or one ad- 
 jacent) for several days, in the year 1605, and named it Pentecost 
 Harbor, trading and visiting with the natives, and rearing crosses on the- 
 adjacent promontories. Then he treacherously seized five of the Indians, 
 and carried them to England, where they were received into kind and 
 commiserating Christian families. One of these was that Squanto who 
 many years later walked into the gloomy village of Plymouth, saying 
 " Welcome, Englishmen ! " and became the most valued friend of the un- 
 happy Pilgrims. Skitwarroes also returned to America, with the Popham 
 colony; and Nahanada, who was captured by the Spaniards, while in 
 an English vessel, somehow escaped from Iberian captivity, and returned 
 to Maine, where he became the chief of his native village. Assecomet 
 and Dehamida, the other captives, disappeared in Europe. The Booth- 
 bay heroes who died in the civil war are commemorated by a monument, 
 with a martial statue of Hallowell granite. This locality was settled as 
 early as Boston, and destroyed by hordes of Indian warriors. The next 
 relay of colonists were valiant Scotch-Irish Presbyterians, veterans of 
 the Revolution of 1688; and the celebrated John Murray was pastor 
 here for many years. The village suffered greatly from plundering raids 
 of British frigates, until Murray went out to the fleet, arrayed in his 
 canonical robes, and set forth to the naval officers the sad state of his 
 people. After this solemn visitation the blue-jackets were kept in their 
 wooden walls, and the little town enjoyed comparative peace. 
 
 Squirrel Island is the summer-metropolis of this region, and looks 
 bravely out to sea from the outer roads of Boothbay harbor, three miles 
 from the village. It formed a part of the dowry of the bride of Wil- 
 liam Greenlief, an old-time Harvard graduate and member of the Legis- 
 lature. In 1870 the little domain was bought by Lewiston gentlemen, 
 for $2,150, and divided into lots, most of which have since been sold 
 and occupied by summer-cottages. The population during the season 
 is not far from one thousand, mainly people from the Androscoggin and 
 
Boothbay and its Islands, 97 
 
 Kennebec towns, whose families come hither in happy colonies, and mingle 
 in a pleasant and decorous democracy, on the croquet, archery, and 
 tennis grounds, or along the lovely beaches, or on the yachts which 
 skim the adjacent seas. Plank-walks run through the groves and by 
 the cottages in every direction; but roads there are none. A union 
 chapel forms the centre of the island on Sunday, and on other days the 
 people flock to the cosey public reading-room and post-office. The 
 annals of the community, and countless legends of the coast, are pre- 
 served in the Squirrel-Island Squid, — a bright and good-natured little 
 newspaper, luxuriously printed on fine-tinted book-paper. Around the 
 island you may visit Kidd's Cave, and seek buried treasure ; or look off 
 from Moss Cliff; or catch fish from the rocks of Cunner's Point; or 
 examine the wonderful flume of Cleft Rock; or see the great waves roll 
 in along the south shore ; or sail in the swift yachts into new worlds, 
 and out to famous historic islands in the blue main. The Squirrel- 
 Island Association forbids the erection of a hotel, but the spacious 
 Chase House and several boarding-houses give accommodations to 
 transient visitors, who ramble at will over these enchanted hundred and 
 fifty acres of natural parks, and down to the resonant shores. 
 
 There is a pretty little sandy cove on one side of the island, with 
 a rivulet of pure fresh water pouring into it, and here in ancient times 
 many vessels used to get supplies of drinking-water. The British frigate 
 Squirrel spent a long time on the Maine coast, cruising from Pemaquid 
 to the Kennebec, and it is supposed that her visits to this island, to get 
 wherewithal for her jolly jack-tars to mix their grog with, caused her 
 name to be transferred to it. At one time the British government in- 
 tended to establish a navy-yard at Boothbay, and the huge old three- 
 decker Bulivark, 74, often looked into the harbor, until the alert militia- 
 men gathered on all the adjacent headlands, to drive off her inquisitive 
 boats. 
 
 Mouse Island, more than a mile from Boothbay, covers about forty 
 acres, in woods, lawns, and parks, with charming sea-views all around, 
 and every convenience for boating, bathing, and fishing. It was discov- 
 ered in 1866, by Mr. Johnston, who erected here Rosewood Cottage, a 
 pretty stone villa, with rosewood finishings. In 1877 the Samoset House 
 was built, adjoining the cottage, with seventy rooms, and since that time 
 
98 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 the summer congregation on the island has increased with every year. 
 It is supposed that the original name of the locality was Moss Island, 
 for which very good reason may be found around its rocky ledges. 
 Steamboats can be taken here several times daily for the other Islands 
 and shores of the harbor. 
 
 Ocean Point was visited by Capt. Weymouth's expedition in 1605, 
 and Owen Griffin, a gallant young Welsh sailor, first set foot on its wild 
 shores. He found nearly three hundred armed Indians there, but par- 
 leyed with them, and was allowed to depart in peace. The point is at 
 the seaward end of Boothbay's easternmost promontory, six miles from 
 the village, and has a hotel and a considerable colony of summer cot- 
 tages. A large Queen-Anne hotel, of the first class, is about to be 
 erected here, face to face with the ocean. Ocean Point is six miles from 
 Boothbay, viewing the wide sweep from Seguin, by Mouse aild Squirrel 
 Islands and Monhegan, to Pemaquid. 
 
 Capitol Island, with its little hotel and group of summer-cottages, 
 lies near the Southport shore; and on Burnt Island stands a light-house, 
 showing the way into port at night. Space fails to tell of the beauties 
 and legends of Cape Newagen and lonely Seguin, of Fisherman's and 
 Damariscove Islands, and many others, out in the resounding ocean. 
 
 Far out at sea, a purple cloud on the horizon, rise the tall cliffs of 
 Monhegan, visited by Champlain in 1605, and also by Capt. Weymouth, 
 who named it St. George, and lifted up an Anglican cross upon its 
 silent hills. When the English had so incurred the just hostility of the 
 Indians that they dared not settle on the mainland, they made Monhegan 
 their head-quarters, and it was for some years the chief trading-port and 
 harbor of Maine. It was the site of a populous and prosperous fishing 
 station and village until King Philip's War broke out, and compelled the 
 desertion of all outlying New-England colonics. In these days it forms 
 a snug little Methodist hamlet of one hundred and thirty-three souls, 
 with a good school and a high tax-rate ; and summer visitors sojourn 
 here, well out to sea, in Mrs. Albce's boarding-house, to which they are 
 brought (on giving several days' notice) by sail-boats from Boothbay. 
 The island covers one thousand acres, rising two hundred feet above 
 the sea, and marking its presence, at night, by a strong and steady white 
 light burning in its high granite tower. One may stand here as on the 
 
The Classic Maritime Peninsulas. 99 
 
 deck of a fast-anchored ship, and from the grassy hill look out on 
 three sides upon the unbroken blue sea, and on the fourth side see the 
 distant shores of Maine. 
 
 Away back in 1813 the British brig Boxer, the terror of this coast, 
 cruised insolently up and down between Monhegan and Pemaquid ; and 
 when the American brig Enterprise sailed down to meet her every 
 headland and island bore its groups of anxious spectators, watching the 
 red cannon-flashes leaping through the smoke-pall of battle. In less 
 than an hour the Boxer surrendered, and the two ships sailed away to 
 Portland, bearing the bodies of Burrows and Blythe, their respective 
 commanders, who fell in that hot and deadly engagement. They were 
 buried in the Portland cemetery, side by side, with great pomp and 
 solemnity. This was the battle of which our Longfellow wrote : — 
 
 "I remember the sea-fight far away, 
 How it thundered over the tide ! " 
 
 THE CLASSIC MARITIME PENINSULAS. 
 
 The Knox and Lincoln Railroad runs across the heads of half-a- 
 dozen great peninsulas, which project to the southward into the ocean, 
 interlinked with noble bays and clusters of islands. It affords many 
 glimpses of beautiful marine scenery, and skirts a region which is 
 classic in the annals of America. When the natural charms of this 
 country are more widely known, summer-travel hitherward will be 
 greatly augmented, and the picturesque and decaying old maritime 
 towns will receive a new life and develop new sources of wealth. 
 
 At Bath, forty miles east of Portland, the eastward-bound cars run 
 on to a great steam ferry-boat, and are carried across the broad Kenne- 
 bec, with charming views of the city and the long reaches of the river. 
 On the opposite shore is Woolwich, a rugged and rocky town, originally 
 called Nequasset by the Indian tribe which dwelt here, and winning its 
 present name from a fancied resemblance of its river-shore to that of 
 ancient Woolwich, on the Thames. In 1638 the first pioneers occupied 
 
I oo Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 the place, and in 1676 the hostile Indians attacked their feeble village. 
 They would have been exterminated, but that young William Phips, 
 who had for years been the shepherd of his father's flocks, on the prom- 
 ontory still known as Phips Neck, took them on board of a little vessel 
 that he had built, and sailed away to a place of safety. Many years 
 afterward our shepherd of Nequasset recovered from the wreck of a 
 Spanish galleon, near the Bahamas, $1,600,000 in jewels and bars of gold 
 and silver, and became Sir William Phips, Governor of Massachusetts, 
 and commander of the victorious expedition against Port Royal. 
 
 After passing the obscure little stations of Nequasset and Mons- 
 weag the line emerges from the low hills and runs along the shore of a 
 broad bright arm of the sea, to the ancient and unfortunate village of 
 Wiscasset. Hither came the first settlers as early as the year 1663, and 
 a dozen years later they were sent flying down the coast, by an irruption 
 of fierce Indians. For sixty years the town lay silent and depopulated, 
 and then another party of pioneers came in and built a fort, which was 
 saved from capture, soon after, by a skilful stratagem on the part of 
 three women who were occupying it. During the Revolution the 
 British sloop- of-war Rainbow sailed up the river, and forced a contri- 
 bution of supplies from the town, under threat of a bombardment. The 
 flourishing maritime business which sprung up after the war carried 
 Wiscasset vessels and mariners into every sea; but the Embargo and the 
 War of 1 81 2 annihilated this lucrative commerce, and inflicted upon the 
 brave little seaport a ruin from which it has never recovered. A few 
 years ago the town made large outlays of money and credit, in the hope 
 of regaining its commercial importance by opening routes of communi- 
 cation between its harbor and the interior; but the scheme came to 
 naught, and left Wiscasset on the verge of bankruptcy, and it is doubt- 
 ful if it can ever recover. 
 
 This landlocked harbor is one of the best on the New-England 
 coast, being formed by a widening of the Sheepscot River, broad, deep, 
 and perfectly sheltered, and never closed by ice. Seventy years ago a 
 national surveying commission recommended it as a very eligible site for 
 a navy-yard. It is the hope of the citizens that at some future time a 
 railway will be constructed hence to Quebec, afibrding the shortest and 
 most convenient route between England and Canada. But in spite of 
 
The Classic Maritime Penijtsulas loi 
 
 its memories of the palmy long-ago, and its hopes of a brilliant future, 
 the quiet little shire-town is slowly fading away, losing every year in 
 population and valuation. The local newspaper, the Seaside Oracle, 
 chronicles the decay of its constituency, and the vast elms about the 
 village park wave mournfully over the grassy streets. Tne scenery in 
 the vicinity and along the neighboring roads is very beautiful, and per- 
 haps, like some of the ancient Italian ports, Wiscasset may be destined 
 to find its future emolument as a resort for pleasure-travellers and seekers 
 after the picturesque. Whoever drives down the Monsweag road, or 
 across the long bridge to Edgecomb, or down the sea-beaten shores of 
 Jewonke Neck, or climbs the far-viewing heights on Clarke's Point, will 
 get a succession of charming panoramic prospects over widening leagues 
 of land and sea. Daily stages run down the long peninsula for nine 
 miles, to Boothbay. facing the sea, traversing the ancient town of Edge- 
 comb, productive of bricks and ice. The harbor of Wiscasset is guarded 
 by Fort Edgecomb, a ponderous and once imposing stone fortress, now 
 nearly eighty years old, and of value only as a picturesque element in 
 the landscape. 
 
 A short sail below Wiscasset, down a beautiful expanse of salt 
 water, leads to the site of Old Sheepscot, which was settled by a branch 
 of Popham's colony, about the year 1608, and afterwards became a large 
 and important colony, occupied mainly by people from English Dart- 
 mouth. For some years this town had a representation in the General 
 Assembly of New York. In 1676 it was destroyed by the Indians; and 
 in 1689 the citizens of the new colony, suspecting their garrison 
 of regulars to be partisans of the royal Stuarts, dispersed them, and 
 soon fell an eas}- prey to a terrible Indian attack. The town was so 
 utterly destroyed that no attempt was ev^er made to rebuild it, and the 
 ancient King's Highway is now only a grassy cart-track, bordered by 
 scores of cellars and other remains. 
 
 The Sheepscot River, from Wiscasset to the sea, has been likened 
 to Somes's Sound, on Mount Desert, for its singular and romantic 
 beauty, bordered by rocky shores, wooded hills, deep coves, and waving 
 forests. Its waters are very deep, a pure salt-sea current, never freezing, 
 and the home of countless fish and lobsters. The facilities for boating 
 are very good, and the dense fogs and heavy squalls, which become such 
 
I02 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 elements of danger outside, rarely invade these tranquil recesses. The 
 historic interest of the region is equal to its scenic beauty, for the 
 Sheepscot River was in the very heart of the dark and bloody ground 
 of the ancient colonial wars, when, amid these islands and harbors, 
 French infantry and sailors, Indian warriors, Maine colonists, and Mas- 
 sachusetts Provincial troops, met in many a bloody contest. 
 
 On the bold headland of Squam Heights, below Wiscasset, are the 
 ruins of Fort McDonough, which was erected during the war of 1812, 
 a star-fort with six guns, its outer approaches guarded by a formidable 
 ahattis of fallen trees and sharpened stakes. 
 
 The famous Rosicrucian Springs are two and one-half miles from 
 Wiscasset, near Wiscasset Bay, and will soon (it is hoped) be provided 
 with a large summer-hotel and other needed accessories. 
 
 The Rosicrucian Spring is alkaline-saline, somewhat resembling 
 the Seltzers of Germany, but much stronger, and very beneficial in 
 relieving cases of rheumatism, malaria, hay fever, dyspepsia, etc. 
 Many hundreds of barrels of it are sold yearly in Boston and in other 
 cities. 
 
 The Ashburton Spring is remarkably pure, and has special value 
 for patients who require a water much less contaminated than the aque- 
 ducts of the cities afford, or than the products of the average well and 
 spring. In this respect its properties resemble those of the Poland and 
 Auburn Springs, so long and justly famous. 
 
 Close to the Rosicrucian is the Mantho-Mer Spring, which is said 
 to be the purest alkaline water in the world, having but two grains of 
 mineral matter to each gallon. It bears the name of the friendly Indian 
 chief who held a council on the adjacent heights, with DeMonts and 
 Champlain, in the summer of 1605. With delicious gravity the Spring 
 Company remarks, in its prospectus: "While there seems to be some 
 evidence that the water from the Rosicrucian Spring, now favorably 
 known in several States of the Union, was famous from the early part 
 of the fourteenth to the eighteenth century, during which time it 
 worked almost miraculous cures, and that while controlled and dis- 
 pensed by the Rosicrucian Brotherhood it had the power of renewing 
 youth and imparting perpetwity of life; yet as this opinion, if estab- 
 lished, would interfere with the generally accepted theory of the early 
 
The Classic Maritime Peninsulas. 103 
 
 settlement of this country, and as the purposes of our corporation are 
 not entirely of an historical nature, we prefer to drop tradition . . . 
 and to date our history from 1849." The scenery and historic associa- 
 tions of this region are of such deep interest, and the curative proper- 
 ties of the springs are so well recognized, that Edgecomb Heights seem 
 destined to win a wide fame, as a summer resort, as soon as proper 
 accommodations are ready. 
 
 The next station on the railway is at the twin villages of New- 
 castle and Damariscotta, separated by the Damariscotta River, and 
 containing together about 2,500 inhabitants, with half-a-dozen 
 churches, good schools, and several mills. When Governor VVinthrop 
 founded Boston there were more than fifty families in this settlement ; 
 but the town was entirely destroyed by the Indians in 1675, s"*^ again 
 in 1688, and consequently Boston somehow got an advantage, which 
 she still retains. A long stage-ride leads from these villages down sea- 
 ward into Bristol, which was granted by the Plymouth Council to cer- 
 tain merchants of EngUsh Bristol, in 1631, and is inhabited by the 
 Americanized descendants of ancient Scottish and Scotch-Irish immi- 
 grants, with the Dutch colonists brought by Sir Edmund Andros from 
 New Amsterdam, and several German families, descended from the 
 people brought over a century or so ago by General Waldo. 
 
 There are over 3,000 people in this amphibious town, with 
 half-a-dozen fish-oil works, factories for lobster-canning and s«il- 
 making, a granite quarry, and six little neighborhood hamlets. On 
 one of the outermost peninsulas of Bristol are the scanty ruins of Pema- 
 quid, one of the ancient fortresses of New England, and latterly a 
 permanent battle-ground of antiquaries. Somewhere hereabout Capt. 
 Weymouth led his savage English sailors, in 1605, and twenty-seven 
 years later a rudely forlified village was in existence on this site, and 
 received a plundering visit froai Dixey Bull, the redoubtable pirate of 
 the Eastern coast, who carried off all the vessels in the harbor. In 
 1635 the war-ship Angel Gabriel wd^s wrQck^d nearby. In 1664 the 
 region of Pemaquid became a Ducal State, under the control of the 
 Duke of York, the son of King Charles I. and brother of Charles II., 
 and himself in later years crowned as James II., and driven from his 
 throne by Prince William of Orange. By the waters of Pemaquid he 
 
I04 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 founded a little Episcopalian principality, named Jamestown, and built 
 the strong bulwark of Fort Charles, which he garrisoned with unfortu- 
 nate Dutchmen from New York. During King Philip's War this " cen- 
 tre of civilization in the wilderness, one of the first-born cities of the 
 New World," was annihilated by an Indian army. It had hardly been 
 rebuilt again when another horde of warriors swooped down from the 
 northern forests, and destroyed town and fort and people. 
 
 In 1.692 Sir William Phips erected here a strong stone fortress, 
 with eighteen cannon; but four years later Iberville and Castine besieged 
 it with two frigates, two companies of French infantry, and a swarm of 
 Micmac and Tarratine Indians. A bombardment from sea and land 
 batteries begun, and shells rained on the little parade-ground, and 
 drove the defenders from the walls. The works were surrendered, and 
 the justly incensed Indians massacred a part of the garrison. Then the 
 strongest fortress in New England, with its flanking towers and bomb- 
 proofs, and lofty barbican, was blown up, and the victors sailed away 
 joyfully, hotly pursued by a fleet of English and Massachusetts frigates. 
 In 1722—26 the ruins afforded shelter to new companies of settlers, and 
 a few years later Colonel Dunbar rebuilt the works, as a defence of 
 Eastern Maine. In 1745 and 1747 this post, then known as Fort 
 Frederick, beat off French attacks ; but about thirty years later the 
 inhabitants of the neighborhood destroyed it, root and branch, so that 
 the British might not make it a military post during the Revolutionary 
 War. In 18 14 the place was attacked by two hundred and sev^enty-five 
 British tars, in boats from the frigate Maidstone; but the invaders were 
 beaten off with such heavy loss that the captain of the frigate was dis- 
 charged from the service. Pemaquid did not become, as its good old 
 magistrate, Abraham Shurt, prayed, " the Metropolitan of these parts " ; 
 but it is their Marathon and Pompeii, full of all heroic memories. 
 Many cellars, cemeteries, bits of paved streets, and the massive foun- 
 dations of Sir William Phips's fortress, still remain, but no other signs 
 of the busy port and the embattled batteries. 
 
 " The restless sea resounds along the shore, 
 
 The light land-hreeze flows outward with a sigh, 
 And each to each seems chanting evermore 
 A mournful memorj of the days gone by." 
 
The Classic Maritime Peninsulas. 105 
 
 In these ancient days many a bold buccaneer sailed these narrow 
 seas, seeking adventure and profit among the fleets which then came 
 hitherward from Europe. Dixey Bull, the plunderer of Pemaquid, was 
 captured off the coast by a Royal cruiser, and hung in chains at Lon- 
 don. Captain Kidd, " as he sailed, as he sailed," visited many a lonely 
 headland and island of Maine, and an organized company of romantic 
 Yankees spent some years of this nineteenth century in digging for his 
 buried pots of gold, along the lower Kennebec. Captain Bellamy, who 
 afterwards lost his ship and his life, and his hundred black-bearded 
 pirates, on Cape Cod, once made a hot foray down the Maine coast, 
 and when his " long, low, black vessel " was well-nigh foundering in a 
 whirling thunder-storm, he loaded his guns, in defiant rage, and an- 
 swered each peal of thunder rolling through the heavens with a full 
 broadside from his rocking batteries. 
 
 Near Newcastle are vast heaps of oyster-shells, covering acres of 
 ground, and affording numerous themes to the antiquaries of New 
 England. Arrow-heads, bones, and bits of decorated pottery are found 
 among these prehistoric remains, and it is evident that the aborigines 
 appreciated and feasted freely upon the delicious shell-fish, long cen- 
 turies gone by. 
 
 The train runs north-east to Waldoborough, a pretty village, 
 which is seen stretching along the hills on the south, embowered in 
 century-old trees, and girt about with ship-yards and small and 
 bustling factories. This venerable town was settled before 1740 by 
 German and Scotch-Irish colonists ; but the red aborigines soon fell upon 
 the unhappy village, and swept away or slew all its people. About a 
 dozen years later, fifteen hundred Germans came over the seas, and 
 settled in this region, where they found the land speculators their worst 
 enemies. 
 
 The next town on the line- is Warren, which was settled in 1736 
 by Germans and Scots, and still preserves the memory of the latter in 
 its little hamlet of Stirling, and in the mills on Georges River, where 
 capital Scotch Cheviot cloths are made. As the train winds up 
 through the lonely hills occasional glimpses are gained of Congress 
 Mountain and Mount Pleasant, and the route descends the valley of 
 Georges River to Thomaston, a pleasant village on a snug harbor 
 
io6 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 formed by the widening of the stream. This town has 3,000 inhabi- 
 tants, half-a-dozen churches, two or three banks, and a local news- 
 paper. It is also the seat of the Maine State Prison, where nearly 
 two thousand unhappy convicts have languished during the past sixty 
 years. Close to the site of the present railway-station stood (until 
 1872) " Montpelier," the great mansion of General Henry Knox, 
 commander of the American artillery during the Revolution, Secretary 
 of War from 1785 to 1795, founder of the order of the Cincinnati, and 
 grand seignior of all this region, which came to him through his wife, 
 heiress of a large part of the extensive domains granted to and 
 colonized by General Waldo, about the year 1730. This baronial 
 mansion stood near the site of the ancient fort, which several times 
 beat off attacks by the Indians, led on by French monks, and aided by 
 fleets of vessels. Blockade, bombardment, and mining, alike failed to 
 reduce this little fortress, which was finally demolished by the British, 
 at the outbreak of the Revolution. In later years Knox exercised a 
 princely hospitality here, and exacted the observance of the strictest 
 old-time etiquette. Another veteran artillerist. Captain Thomas Vose, 
 built a mansion near by, which stood until 1882. 
 
 Stages run from Thomaston down the seaward peninsulas to the 
 ancient towns of Friendship, Cushing, and St. George, on rocky points 
 making down toward Muscongus Bay and the open ocean, and dotted 
 with hardy little maritime hamlets. Along these shores and among 
 the islands in the offing occurred several sanguinary conflicts during 
 the old Indian wars, and it was found necessary to erect a strong stone 
 fortress here, to prevent the annihilation of the settlements. The 
 scenery in this region is famed for its beauty, and bears some resem- 
 blance to localities on the coast of Norway. 
 
 A few miles beyond Thomaston the railroad reaches its terminus^ 
 far out in the fields outside of Rockland, the metropolis of Penobscot 
 Bay, amid very pleasant hills, and facing out on a broad expanse of 
 salt water. This is a chartered city, with nearly 8,000 inhabitants, a 
 very copious supply of banks, hotels, newspapers, and churches, and a 
 long and busy (but architecturally unpretentious) street of stores and 
 offices. The chief public building is the post-office, a handsome 
 structure of St. Georcfc's sjranitc. The manufacture of lime has been 
 
Penobscot Bay. 107 
 
 the leading industry of Rockland for ninety years, and sometimes 
 employs a thousand men, producing more than a million barrels a 
 year. The lime quarries are about a mile out, and the eighty kilns 
 form a smoky fringe around the city, each of them employing four 
 men, and consuming vast quantities of lime rock and soft wood. 
 Nearly all this supply of lime, and a great product of Portland cement, 
 are sent away by sea. 
 
 Rockland is highly favored by summer tourists, for besides the 
 beautiful drives in its vicinity, and the interesting stage-routes to St. 
 George, Owl's Head, Union, Belfast, Augusta, and Camden, it is the 
 port of departure for several important steamboat lines. The Boston 
 and Bangor steamboats touch here, and connect with the two lines to 
 Mount Desert (one via Castine, and the other through the Fox 
 Islands) ; and small and wheezy steamers run hence to several of the 
 islands out in the bay, — to Vinalhaven, North Haven, Hurricane 
 Isle, etc. 
 
 PENOBSCOT BAY. 
 
 On the islands near the mouth of Penobscot Bay are vast 
 granite quarries, employing thousands of men, and producing a 
 building material which takes high rank for its uniformity and com- 
 pactness. From the wave-washed ledges of Dix Island, Hurricane 
 Isle, Vinalhaven, and Spruce Head have been taken the granite mono- 
 lithic pillars for the Treasury Department at Washington, the materials 
 for the New- York Post-office, and the great government buildings at 
 Cincinnati, Pittsburgh, Atlanta, St. Louis, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, 
 besides many other structures of almost equal importance. Hurri- 
 cane Isle, twelve miles from Rockl?.nd (daily steamers), covers one 
 hundred and fifty acres, and is an independent town, with from 
 200 to 600 inhabitants, according to the amount of work on 
 hand. Among other products of the Penobscot granite are the 
 Brooklyn Bridge, the Tribune Building, the Masonic Temple at Phila- 
 
1 08 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 delphia, the St. Louis Bridge, the Indiana State-House pillars, much 
 of the Capitol at Albany, and the Chicago Board of Trade Building. 
 
 Vinalhaven, an interesting island town between Penobscot Bay 
 and the sea, is connected with Rockland, fifteen miles distant, by a 
 primitive little daily steamboat, which touches on the way at Hurricane 
 Isle. The chief village in Vinalhaven is at Carver's Harbor, which was 
 named from the descendants of Governor John Carver, of Plymouth, 
 many of whom dwell here, and occupies a very favorable location on 
 a high terrace over the sea. It has a church, a score of stores, and 
 two ideally cheap hotels, where hearty and simple fare is' furnished at 
 five dollars a week. The great institution of the island is the Bodwell 
 Granite Quarries, producing vast quantities of gray and red granites, 
 which are highly prized all over the country. The polishing mill is 
 very interesting, and also the powerful machinery by whose aid 
 immense masses of stone are lifted and moved about. An obelisk of 
 a single stone sixty feet long has been quarried here. 
 
 North Haven is another island-town, one of the Fox Islands, eight 
 miles long, with hills seven hundred feet high rising from its plains. 
 Although it has but 800 inhabitants, its fishing fleet includes some of 
 the finest vessels in New England, and North Haven ranks as the 
 foremost fishing-port in Maine, next to Portland. The earliest 
 explorers of the coast saw such numbers of silver-gray foxes on these 
 silent shores that they named them the Fox Islands. They resorted to 
 them frequently for wood and water. When the British troops 
 occupied Castine, during the Revolution, they made frequent raids on 
 the little colonies here, and carried off all the men to work on their 
 fortifications. Many a sharp naval skirmish occurred in these narrow- 
 waters, between the privateers of the bay and the Royalist vessels, and 
 the chronicles of the adjacent towns teem with deeds of daring wrought 
 in tho.se heroic days. 
 
 IsIe-au-Haut lieS well out in the sea, to the eastward of Vinal- 
 haven, twenty-five miles from Rockland, and is destined to become one 
 of the foremost summer-resorts of Maine, several thousand acres of it 
 having been purchased and laid out by Boston, New- York, and 
 Chicago gentlemen. The Thoroughfare is the island capital, where are 
 the homes of about two hundred people, kind-hearted, intelligent, and 
 
Penobscot Bay. 109 
 
 hospitable, and nearly all deriving their subsistence from the surround- 
 ing seas. A recent visitor reports that " A Sabbath-like stillness 
 prevails over the island, broken only by the bleating of sheep and 
 lowing of kine. Almost every one you meet is solemn, even the 
 children." Yet the chief building is a perfectly appointed dance-hall, 
 which was erected by that chivalric Southerner, Colonel Montgomery, 
 and the defunct Isle-au-Haut Improvement Company. The little 
 Congregational Church near by has for a vane a strange and extraordi- 
 nary fish. There are no horses on Isle-au-Haut, and many of the 
 islanders have never seen this noblest friend of mankind. A few 
 cattle serve for the meagre farming operations. The grand feature of 
 this insular land of dreams is its mountains, rising from the shores to 
 the height of six hundred feet, clad with a vast number of berry- 
 bushes and strawberry-vines, and visible for many leagues over the sea 
 and bay, almost always wrapped in a rich purple haze, approaching 
 
 "The light that never was, on land or sea." 
 
 To the south is the mile-long expanse of Crystal Lake, bordered 
 by shining sands, and so transparent that a newspaper can be read 
 through a piece of its ice twenty-two inches thick. Thousands of 
 wild-fowl haunt this lovely vale during the summer and autumn. 
 Foxes formerly swarmed on the island ; but they have been nearly all 
 killed, because they used to destroy the sheep, which now roam at will 
 over the grand sea-viewing hills. 
 
 Islesborough is a town out in Penobscot Bay, composed of Long 
 Island and several short islands, with about 1,200 Baptist inhabitants, 
 and every man a good sailor and skilful fisherman. Of late years it 
 has become known as a summer-resort, and its hotels, the Seaside and 
 Sprague, fail to accommodate the throngs of visitors who seek the 
 cool and fragrant air of these lovely isles, while many families from up 
 the valley have erected pretty summer-cottages amid the attractive 
 scenery of Ryder's Cove. 
 
 Deer Isle is a very interesting marine town, ten miles long and six 
 wide, with 3,300 inhabitants, half-a-dozen churches, three high schools, 
 and six snug little sea-side hamlets, frequently touched at by the 
 
I lo Summer Days Down East, 
 
 Mount-Desert steamers. There are several small and unpretentious 
 boarding-houses in the villages, and many of the farmers take boarders; 
 so that three or four hundred summer visitors are enabled to spend 
 part of each season here. The Sunnyside, at North-west Harbor, is the 
 chief hotel. Most of the summer guests come from New York, Phila- 
 delphia, and Washington, and the Bostonians do not seem to have 
 discovered the locality. Half the island is in forest and half in farms, 
 connected by fine roads, and rising here and there into lofty sea- 
 viewing hills. Along the shores are delightful coves, whose \varm salt 
 waters afford the best of bathing for invalids and children, while off- 
 shore there are famous fishing and boating. Nearly every family on the 
 island has one or more members on the sea, and every school-boy in 
 its thirty districts looks forward to freedom on the blue main. The 
 ancient church dates back to 1773, and has a strong membership 
 among these grave, thoughtful, and moral islanders. The silver mines 
 which have been in operation here for some years have affected the 
 people hardly more than the sheep that browse on the breezy hills, or 
 the herons in the lowland marshes. Across the surrounding waters 
 tower the noble mountains of Camden and Mount Desert, and many a 
 picturesque rocky islet rises through the fretted blue plain of the bay. 
 Over all flows the air, — the wonderful tonic air, always in motion, and 
 compounded of the bracing salty breath of the sea, and the fragrant 
 exhalations of the great island forests of pine, spruce, and hemlock. 
 It has been likened to the atmosphere of the Riviera, between Nice 
 and Bordighera, or that of the upper Adirondack region. Some one 
 has happily spoken of \hQ.joyous7iess of the Deer- Isle air, in which are 
 combined the softness of Italy and the bracing qualities of a high 
 northern climate. It is a land of low prices, plain living, and rest, 
 unadapted to seekers after social excitement, but just the thing for 
 tired workers, who want peace and the truest refreshment of nature. 
 
 The scenery of Penobscot Bay has been the theme of praise from 
 countless writers, American and foreign, in prose and verse ; and year 
 by year its merits become more widely known and enthusiastically cele- 
 brated. Cruising on or dwelling by these embowered waters, amid the 
 brief but surpassing splendors of the northern summer, the happy idler 
 gains new strength with every breath, and fills his memory with lovely 
 
Penobscot Bay. 1 1 1 
 
 pictures of blended sea and land and sky. The magnificent hills on 
 either side, Camden on the west, Mount Desert on the east, and Isle- 
 au-Haut on the south, are among the choicest beauties of New Eng- 
 land, clothed with a rich and mystic purple by the sea-haze, and melt- 
 ing off in bands of rich foliage down to the peaceful farms below. 
 
 The islands are rich in variety, from miniature continents, a dozen 
 miles long, and occupied by populous communities, down to lonely 
 rocks, over which the high tides break in long white wreaths. Perhaps 
 their chief beauty is in their coronals of spruce and fir trees, graceful 
 and symmetrical cones rising above the curving channels, and filling 
 the air with a strange woodland fragrance. This famous archipelago, 
 with its white cottages, well-tilled farms, and flocks of grazing sheep, 
 forms a sort of agricultural Yankee Venice, separated in summer by 
 myriads of lanes of blue water, and joined in winter by crystal sheets 
 of ice. 
 
 These intricate avenues of water have been admirably surveyed and 
 charted, and afford very good yachting-ground, especially with the aid 
 of the encyclopaedic and loquacious pilots of the region. And whether 
 the traveller crosses by the northern route, through the Reach (in the 
 City of Richmo7id) , or across the centre, by the Thoroughfare (in the 
 Mount Desert), the trip will be found full of interest and of health- 
 giving change. 
 
 The romance of history dwells in all the coves, on all the islands, of 
 this lovely Penobscot region, — the Norumbega of the ancient geogra- 
 phers. It is impossible to tell whether the old Norse vikings who cruised 
 along the New-England coasts at the time of the Crusades visited the 
 bay, or not. Perhaps Cabot's West-of-England mariners entered these 
 solitudes; or Cortereal's Portuguese explorers, in 1500; or Verrazano's 
 sturdy Normans and Bretons, in 1524; or the Spanish caravels of Estevan 
 Gomez, in 1525 ; or John Rut's good English ship, the Mary of Guil- 
 ford. In Ramusio's geography, this land of Norumbega appears as 
 " abounding in all kinds of fruit. There grow oranges, almonds, wild 
 grapes, and many other fruits of odoriferous trees." In 1556, Thevet, 
 a French scholar, ascended the Penobscot River, then called by the 
 Indians ' Agoncy, and saw great villages of fur-clad aborigines, with 
 whom he and his twenty Frenchmen held long and merry revels, " and, 
 
1 1 2 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 parting from them with great contentment upon both sides, went out 
 upon the sea." About fifty years later, Martin Pring and De Monts 
 entered the bay in succession, with British and French vessels, followed 
 by Weymouth. The first sea-fight in these waters took place on a July 
 day in 1643, when the Massachusetts ships Gnyhoicud, Increase, Philip 
 and Mary, and Seabridge, and the French Huguenot ship Clement, at- 
 tacked D'Aulnay's French fleet, and drove it up the river, during a hot 
 contest, in which the thirty-eight Puritan cannon made deep music 
 among the island-aisles. The battles and adventures of the last two 
 and a half centuries have left their records everywhere, and the stu- 
 dent of history, the lover of romance, finds rare pleasure in their 
 annals. 
 
 CAMDEN AND ITS MOUNTAINS. 
 
 Camden, eight miles north of Rockland (with which it is connected 
 by stage and steamboat), is one of the most picturesque towns on the 
 American coast, passing rich in its mingled charms of sea and mountain 
 scenery, and already attaining a notable position as a summer-resort. 
 The view from the chief village, down the snug little harbor, and out 
 across and between the islands to the broader expanse of Penobscot 
 Bay, is full of beauty, and several costly summer-villas have been erected 
 on the adjacent shores and points, from which comfortably circumstanced 
 gentlemen of the great cities down the seaboard enjoy the delicious air 
 and the inspiring prospect. In the village there are several hotels and 
 boarding-houses, which are well filled in summer. Among the various 
 curious manufactures here is that of anchors, of the best and most re- 
 liable quality. There are also ship-yards, powder-mills, and other 
 manufactories ; and the neighboring villages of Rockport and Rockville 
 have other industries, besides several lucrative lime-kilns. The crowning 
 beauty of Camden is its mountains, the lofty blue range, which for cen- 
 turies has been a landmark for sailors entering Penobscot Bay, the 
 ancient Mathebestuck Hills, on whose account the Indians named this 
 region Megunticook, " the land of great sea-swells." The ancient 
 
Camden and its Mountains. 1 13 
 
 boundaries between the domains of the Tarratines and the Kennebec 
 tribes lay among these frowning ridges, which are still almost entirely 
 clothed with forest-trees. Mount Megunticook, twelve hundred and 
 sixty-five feet high, is the loftiest of the five Camden peaks, and com- 
 mands a majestic view over the bay, and beyond to Mount Desert and 
 out on the open sea, and across hundreds of miles of inland Maine to 
 Katahdin and the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Among the 
 glens and around the bases of the mountains there are several beautiful 
 drives, leading by still and sequestered lakes, and sweeping over high 
 and lonely foot-hills, amid luxuriant overarching forests. In some of 
 these deep ravines the scenery has a true Tyrolese aspect, and one 
 might fancy that the great resounding sea was a thousand miles away. 
 But the road soon slopes down to the lowlands, and reaches the shore, 
 where the long salty surges beat inward from the breezy East. It is a 
 realm of surprises, and in the not-distant future will be one of the most 
 favored summer-resorts of this great national park called Maine. 
 
 The finest inland scenery hereabouts is along the shores of Lincoln- 
 ville Pond, which the Indians called Megunticook, and the old settlers 
 entitled Molyneaux' Pond, in memory of the courtly old Huguenot 
 gentleman who dwelt for many years on the rocky knoll at its foot, and 
 daily traversed the adjacent regions of sylvan beauty with fishing-rod 
 or fowling-piece in hand. The pond covers nearly a square mile. 
 Several other lakelets among the mountains are noted for their great 
 beauty of situation, and afford good sport to the contemplative fisher- 
 man. 
 
 The snug little village of Kockport, with its new Carleton House, 
 is on a pretty harbor a mile from Camden, and boasts of several active 
 ship-yards, and hundreds of summer visitors. Back among the hills 
 are the great forests, almost as wild as in the old days, when in the 
 woods of Camden alone James Richards killed thirty bears and seventy 
 moose, or when Metcalf, the mighty hunter, rode a bear down Mount 
 Batty. Richards's wife, Betty, often designated one of the peaks near the 
 harbor as her mountain, and the obliging farmers always spoke of it as 
 Betty's Mountain, which has latterly been Frenchified into Mount Batty. 
 The view from the top of Batty includes the broad bay of Penobscot, 
 with its thronging islands and bordering villages, and the remoter 
 
114 Summer Days Dozvn East. 
 
 heights of Monhegan, Matinicus, and Mount Desert. Standing here 
 people of Camden saw the sea-fight between the Enterprise and Boxer. 
 During the Revolutionary War the British made several forays on 
 this town, and were hotly met by Ulmer's ever-ready minute-men. 
 There were two hundred men, including a company of Penobscot 
 Indians, in barracks at Clam Cove, where they had a small fort and a 
 lonely eighteen-pounder gun, which mingled its roaring with that of 
 the British batteries at Castine, when the news of peace arrived. 
 When the War of 1812 broke out, the citizens erected a battery on the 
 top of Mount Batty, nine hundred fjeet high, and near the village, and 
 the bold Britons avoided any contact with this little fortress amid the 
 clouds. It appears to have been put far enough out of the way to 
 avoid all opportunity to receive or inflict harm, and was doubtless 
 garrisoned by the most Falslaffian of militia-men. The gallant little 
 community also sent a company into the 9th regiment of regulars, 
 which fought in the battles along the New York frontiers. In 1814, 
 when the British frigate Furiciise lay off the town, the 5th militia 
 regiment hurriedly assembled here to repel an attack. It is said that 
 the colonel commanding inspired his garrison by ordering them to 
 hold the forts until the last moment; "but, should you be under the 
 necessity of retreating, you'll find me out back of Simon Barrett's 
 barn." The military traditions of the town bore good fruit later, when 
 the integrity of the Union was threatened, and three hundred sturdy 
 volunteers went thence into the hot and fatal South, where nearly one 
 in three of them laid down their lives. The town was named in honor 
 of Lord Camden, the friend of America in Parliament, who character- 
 ized the arming of Indians against Americans as " a war of revenge, 
 such as Moloch in Pandemonium advised." 
 
Belfast and Northport. 1 1 5 
 
 BELFAST AND NORTHPORT. 
 
 Belfast is about ten miles up Penobscot Bay, a quiet little city of 
 5,000 inhabitants, founded by Scotch-Irish people in 1770, tormented 
 by British fleets in our two wars with the mother-country, and often 
 devastated by fires. The front of the city is lined with gray old 
 wharves, with some evidences of still lingering commerce, the masts 
 of the vessels forming not exactly a forest, but rather an irregular 
 hedge-row, up to the mouth of the Passagassawakeag River. Beyond 
 these is the brick nucleus of the city, the old-fashioned business-blocks 
 in which the trading of Waldo County centres, and the head-quarters 
 of the local newspapers and banks. A succession of long streets, 
 nearly parallel with the water-front, follows the trend of the hill, one 
 above another, delightful terraces of homes and tree-avenues, up to 
 the summit, nearly one hundred and eighty feet above the tide, where 
 from Congress street one looks out over the bay and down even to the 
 blue ridges of Mount Desert. This dreamy old sea-city is a capital 
 point from which to make excursions, for its people are great lovers of 
 summer recreation, and steamboats leave every day for almost all 
 parts of Penobscot Bay. There are also lines of stages running hence 
 to Searsmont, Searsport, Winterport, Rockland, Camden, Belmont, 
 Bangor, and all parts of the outlying country. The Maine Central 
 trains reach this point in about five and a half hours from Portland, 
 passing through Augusta and VVaterville. 
 
 The Northport Wesleyan Camp Meeting Ground is a summer-port 
 of the bay steamers, and is easily and quickly reached by several 
 modes of conveyance from the neighboring city of Belfast. The 
 August camp-meeting still draws thousands of visitors, but more 
 important than this has become the city of summer-cottages and 
 hotels among the groves, open to the delicious breezes from the bay, 
 and occupied throughout the heated season by a joyous population, 
 continually reinforced by crowded steamboats from the river-towub, 
 A vivacious little newspaper, The Sea Breeze^ chronicles the gossip of 
 
1 1 6 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 the camp, and continually records new devices for enjoying the 
 vacation-days. About a mile from the camp-ground, and reached by 
 a good carriage-road, is the summit of Mount Percival, which com- 
 mands a famous view over the bay and the open sea, and through the 
 mazes of countless islands off-shore. 
 
 The camp-meeting ground was bought by the East Maine Metho- 
 dists in 1848, and the first cottage dates from 1869, before which the 
 summer-pilgrims dwelt in tents, as many still do. Steamboats now 
 ply daily between this sea-fronting bluff and Islesborough, Castine, 
 Belfast, and all the other ports on the bay and river, and yachts run 
 out from the snug little harbor to all parts of the bay. Almost the 
 entire shore from Belfast down is occupied by summer-cottages, and 
 farther south, at the pretty hamlet of Saturday Cove, is a favorite 
 haunt of other vacation tourists. 
 
 Searsport is a pretty village of white houses, peeping from the trees 
 which line its streets. It has about 2,000 inhabitants, and is connected 
 with Belfast, six miles southward, by a stage-line. Its little harbor is 
 sheltered by Sears Island, the ancient Brigadier Island, on which 
 appears the comfortable summer-mansion of the Scars family of Boston, 
 whose great-grandfather, David Sears, was the chief proprietor of the 
 adjacent town. 
 
 FORT POINT AND BUCKSPORT. 
 
 Fort Point is now secure of fame and* favor as a first-class summer- 
 resort, and annually receives thousands of visitors from the great cities, 
 who find ample amusement in sailing and fishing in the adjacent waters 
 of the bay, in rambling over the beautiful peninsula, in riding among 
 the picturesque hill-towns on the north, and in dancing, banqueting, 
 and comfortably resting amid the flowers and groves and piazzas of the 
 hotel. A perpetual cool breeze draws across this magnificent peninsular 
 bluff, upon which rise the long walls of the hotel, looking, from miles 
 away down the bay, like a huge stranded line-of-battle ship, and com- 
 manding, in return, a view which includes many leagues of dancing 
 waves, fringed with wooded islands, and overlooked by far-away blue 
 mountains. After several years of but partial success, the Fort-Point 
 
Fort Point and Buck sport. 1 1 7 
 
 House appears to have entered into the flood tide of favor, and is vis- 
 ited by larger and larger companies each returning season. 
 
 The fort on this commanding promontory was a substantial work 
 of stone, three hundred and sixty feet around, with flankarts at the 
 corners, cJievaiix-de-frise in the deep moat, a drawbridge and port- 
 cullis, and a massive interior block-house surmounted by a sentry-tower, 
 and garnished with a dozen cannon and several cohorn mortars. It 
 was built in 1758-59, by Governor Pownall, of Massachusetts, to pro- 
 tect the Penobscot settlements from attacks by sea or land ; and the 
 British Parliament paid for its construction. After the French wars 
 ceased this became a great trading-post, to which the Indians brought 
 their stores of beaver, sable, and otter skins. The garrison abandoned 
 the works when the Revolution broke out. The British frigate Canseaii 
 disarmed and partly demolished it in 1775 ; and four years later a de- 
 tachment of Americans, under Capt. Cargill, completed the work of de- 
 struction. Some slight remains of the ancient fort are still visible, and 
 afford pleasant rambling-ground for the summer visitors. The tall 
 light-house on the extreme point marks the head of Penobscot Bay. 
 The adjacent mainland was settled by veterans of the French wars and 
 retired fur-traders. General Waldo, the founder of the chief colonies 
 in this part of Maine, was buried on Fort Point, but some years later 
 his remains were carried to their present tomb in King's Chapel bury- 
 ing-ground, at Boston. 
 
 Bucksport is one of the loveliest villages on the Penobscot, and 
 rises conspicuously from the swift currents of the Narrows, its steep 
 streets being laid out regularly along a picturesque slope, whose summit 
 is crowned by the rectangular brick buildings of the East Maine 
 Conference Seminary. It has upwards of 2,000 inhabitants, and in 
 summer the population is much augmented by people who explore the 
 adjacent hill and lake country. This territory was granted by William 
 and Mary of England to sundry stout burghers of Haverhill, and set- 
 tled in 1762 by Colonel Jonathan Buck and other pioneers. Seventeen 
 years later a part of the village was burned by a British naval foray. 
 The immense and costly defences of Fort Knox, on the bluff opposite, 
 present. a very imposing appearance from the river, and were designed 
 to protect the towns above from future molestation. 
 
1 1 8 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Bucksport is said to be eighteen miles from everywhere, that being 
 its distance from Bangor, Ellsworth, and Castine. With the former 
 point it is connected by the Eastern Maine Raih'oad, running along the 
 river, and connecting with the Maine Central line, by which travellers 
 may come hither from Portland in seven hours. 
 
 Winterport, on the west bank of the Penobscot, above the widen- 
 ings of Marsh Bay, is a decadent village of 2,000 inhabitants, once 
 celebrated for its ship-building and commerce, but now quietly fading 
 away among the sleepy river-hills. It has rich farms inland, and at 
 the port a contented community of citizens, with houses distinguished 
 for neatness and comfort. The view from the lofty hill on which 
 stands the soldiers' monument is famous for its extent and beauty. 
 
 CASTINE. 
 
 Castine is reached by the steamboat in two hours from Rockland, 
 or by steamers from Belfast and Bangor, or by stage from Bucksport, 
 about eighteen miles. It is a lovely old village of about a thousand 
 inhabitants, and stands on the harborward slope of a high ridge which 
 overlooks for many leagues the fascinating scenery of Penobscot Bay 
 and its purple hills. A very pleasant illustrated article on this town, 
 written by Noah Brooks, appeared in the Century Magazine for Sep- 
 tember, 1882. The little fort now overlooking the harbor was built 
 during the late Secession War; and farther back are remains of the 
 old American siege-works, erected by Paul Revere and Pcleg Wads- 
 worth (Longfellow's grandfather), and fragments of the luiglish and 
 French batteries. There are distinct traces of more than twenty 
 fortifications on this little peninsula, which was an important garrisoned 
 post for more than one hundred and fifty years, and has seen many 
 days of conflict, and the rise and fall of many a proud standard. 
 Scores of legends still cling to the abandoned batteries and to the 
 stately old houses on the shadowy village streets. Among the young 
 subalterns stationed here during the British occupation were several, 
 like Sir John Moore, who afterwards achieved great renown. 
 
Cast me. 119 
 
 Hundreds of visitors come hither every summer, living at tlic 
 Acadian House and the numerous boarding-houses near by, and, as 
 Noah Brooks says, "he who comes once comes again and again." 
 They sail and fish among the adjacent islands and coves, or ramble 
 about the quaint old village and the adjacent woods, or take buckboard 
 rides among the hills beyond, or make excursions on the steamboats 
 up and down the bay. The stores are small and dull, the wharves are 
 dilapidated, and the village-life seems listless and drowsy; but many a 
 quaint old house rises among the environing trees of the upper streets, 
 and the ladies of the old families still exemplify the antique culture 
 of their ancestors, when this was a brilliant garrison town. 
 
 The history of Castine is full of epic grandeur. Thevet, who 
 explored the bay in 1555, said that long before that time a French fort 
 had been razed hereabouts. In 161 3 the lively French traders erected 
 another little castle here, which was visited by Captain John Smith. 
 The Plymouth Company fortified the Pentagoet peninsula in 1626, 
 under the direction of Isaac Allerton ; but it was captured by the 
 French in 1632, and three years later became French territory, held by 
 the Sieur D'Aulnay, and one of the centres of the long war between 
 this Catholic chief and the grim Huguenot La Tour, holding a feudal 
 lordship to the eastward. Friar Leo erected a Capuchin chapel here, 
 under the influence of Cardinal Richelieu, and in 1654 the Puritans 
 swooped down from the sea and occupied the place under orders from 
 Oliver Cromwell. In 1667 came Vincent, the Baron of St. Castin, and 
 lord of Ol^ron, in the Pyrenees, who had been colonel of the Royal 
 Carignan Regiment, but came across the seas and married the dusky 
 daughter of Madockawando, the sachem of the Tarratine Indians. If 
 he had been a Parsee the Indians would have worshipped fire with him, 
 so deeply did they reverence this gallant seignior ; but, since he was a 
 stanch Roman Catholic, they made to themselves rosaries, and 
 became devout children of Rome. The port was fortified again in 
 1670 by the Chevalier de Grandfontaine, acting under the orders of 
 Colbert, the French statesman. In 1674 a Dutch fleet, under Captain 
 Jurriaen Aernoots, captured Pentagoet ; and thirteen years later it was 
 plundered again by Sir Edmund Andros, in the frigate Rose. St. Castin 
 retaliated by the destruction of Pemaquid, and after thirty years of life 
 
1 20 Stiminer Days Down East. 
 
 with his savage clan he returned to La Belle France. One of his half- 
 Indian sons followed him, twenty years after, and became Lord of 
 Oleron, while another remained, and perpetuated the line of Tarratine 
 chieftains. The tribe remained under the government of St. Castin's 
 descendants until the year i860. 
 
 In 1799 General McLean and seven hundred British troops of the 
 74th and 83d Regiments captured Castine and fortified its approaches, 
 where he was speedily attacked by a Massachusetts fleet and army, 
 composed of nineteen war-vessels, mounting three hundred and forty- 
 four guns, with twenty-four transports, and two thousand soldiers. After 
 several repulses the Americans secured a footing on the peninsula, and 
 opened a lively bombardment from land-batteries. Suddenly a British 
 fleet of seven large frigates, under Sir George Collier, entered the bay 
 and boldly attacked the American squadron, whose vessels fled away 
 up the bay, hotly pursued, and one by one were burnt or blown up, 
 or driven ashore. The American army retreated in detachments to 
 the settlements on the Kennebec ; and the British flag floated peace- 
 fully over Castine until the end of the war, four years later. In the 
 years 18 14 and 18 15, again, the little town was garrisoned by two 
 brigades of red-coatS under General Gosselin, who kept the bay-towns 
 in terror for many a harassing month. The British fleet was composed 
 of the ships-of-thc-line Bulwark, Spoicej', and Dragon; the frigates 
 Bacchante and Tcnedos; the Sylph, Peruvian, and Pictou; and ten 
 transports. The little American garrison of forty regulars exchanged 
 a few shots with this formidable armada, and then blew \\\) the fort and 
 retreated up the river. 
 
 Dice's Head, at the mouth of the beautiful island-gemmed harbor, 
 is a promontory of evergreen groves, dowered with a medicinal spring, 
 and commanding a broad view over Penobscot Bay and its mountain- 
 walls. Summer-cottages crown its rocky cliffs, and hither come many 
 picnic parties from the bay and river towns. 
 
 Beautiful views are afiordcd from the summit of Kench's Mountain, 
 and from the Walker farm, on the adjacent mainland of Brooksvillc, 
 amid an ancient and democratic farming region, and around the shores 
 of Walker's Pond, and down to the legend-haunted cliffs of Cape 
 Rosier. 
 
Mount Desert. 121 
 
 MOUNT DESERT. 
 
 Nowhere else on the North-Atlantic coast is there such a grand 
 combination of scenery, of forest and lake, mountain and glen, sound 
 and bay, beach and promontory, trout-brook and open sea, as is found 
 on this wonderful island of Mount Desert, which has become of late 
 years one of the most delightful and fashionable of resorts. In the 
 hundred square miles of the island there are thirteen well-defined 
 mountains and seventeen lakes and ponds. Among the remoter glens 
 are the homes of deer, foxes, and minks, and virgin pastures of rich 
 flowers and luscious berries. The magnificent coloring of these far 
 northern woods and waters rivals that of the Mediterranean shores. 
 The perfect sapphire of the sea reflects the overarching sky, and is 
 framed by gray and pink and brown cliffs, light-green meadow-lands, 
 silvery beaches, and surging leagues of dark forest. 
 
 The history of the island abounds in romance. The Indians 
 called it Pemctic, meaning " that which is at the head " ; and Champlain, 
 the French discoverer, in 1604 called it the Island of the Desert 
 Mountains {Monts Deserts). In 1603 Henri IV. of France granted it 
 to the Sieur de Monts; and the priests Du Thet, Biard, and Masse, 
 with thirty colonists, founded the mission-settlernent of St. Sauveur, 
 on Fernald's Point, in Somes's Sound. This town was destroyed in 
 161 3 by Captain Argall and a ship from Virginia, and Du Thet, slain 
 in the fight, was buried at St. Sauveur. In 1691 Louis XIV. granted 
 the island to M. de la Motte Cadillac, whose grand-daughter, Marie 
 Therese de Gregoire, secured from Massachusetts a ratification of the 
 grant, in 1764, and lived at Hull's Cove until her death, in 18 10. 
 
 The 's>\.Q.-Si\VLQ.x Mount Desert, on its way to the island, runs through 
 the very picturesque Fox-Island Thoroughfare, crosses Isle-au-Haut 
 Bay, with the purple heights of Isle-au-Haut on the right; touches at 
 Green's Landing, on Deer Isle; crosses Blue-Hill Sound, by Swan's 
 Island and the Placentia Isles, and then cruises around the Mount- 
 Desert coast, touching at Bass Harbor, South-west Harbor, and Bar 
 
122 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Harbor, connecting there with a small steamer running northward up 
 Frenchman's Bay to Sulhvan and East Lamoine. The City of RicJi- 
 moiid runs direct from Rockland through the Thoroughfare, and touches 
 only at South-west Harbor and Bar Harbor. The Lewiston ascends 
 Penobscot Bay from Rockland to Castine ; then rounds Cape Rosier 
 and traverses the beautiful Eggemoggin Reach, stopping at North Deer 
 Isle and Sedgwick; passes Naskeag Point and across Blue-Hill Bay, 
 with noble peaks in front and on the left; runs around Bass Harbor 
 Head, and touches at South-west Harbor and Bar Harbor. 
 
 People who fear sea-sickness come to Mount Desert, by the stage- 
 route, in eight hours from Bangor; others descend the Penobscot from 
 the same city in the steamboats which run thence to the island daily; 
 others take the daily Mount-Desert steamers at Rockland, which is 
 reached by rail from Portland and Boston; and others sail into the 
 harbor in yachts, amid great din of salutes and show of dipping flags 
 from the pleasure-fleet at anchor there. 
 
 South-west Harbor, south-west of the entrance of Somes's Sound, 
 and commanding a view through the mountain-gorge up to its head, and 
 out to several groups'of islands in the deep sea, is one of the best points 
 from which to make excursions through the finest scenery of Mount 
 Desert, to Bass Harbor, the Sea Wall, Long Pond, Fcrnald's Cove, and 
 Somesville, affording very inspiring views of sea and shore and mountain- 
 peak. It is an easy drive thence to Great Pond, the chief of the island- 
 lakes, eight miles long, between two shaggy mountain-ranges, and 
 abounding in fine trout. Echo Lake, five miles out, lies deep-set be- 
 tween a huge perpendicular cliff and a mountain covered with unbroken 
 woods. On one of the islands off-shore several hundred Russians en- 
 camped, when, during the recent Russo-Turkish war, the great northern 
 empire expected to be drawn into hostilities with lingland, and the 
 Russian steamer Cinibria lay off Mount Desert for five months, awaiting 
 the event. 
 
 North-east Harbor is a romantic and almost landlocked cove, east- 
 ward of the mouth of Somes's Sound, and insids of Bear-Island light- 
 house and the Cranberry Isles. It is a very small village, with Kimball's 
 neat inn as its centre, and the grandest possible scenery of sea and 
 sound and mountain all around. In the vicinity are the summer-man- 
 
Mount Desert. 123 
 
 sions of President Eliot, of Harvard University, and Bishop Doane, of 
 the Episcopal diocese of Albany. Eastward of this point is Seal Har- 
 bor, with two handsome hotels, and a wharf at which the steamboats 
 sometimes stop. The views thence to the south-east, out over the open 
 sea, and through the islands to the south, are rich in variety and 
 grandeur. The Cranberry Isles, which lie off-shore, are five in number, 
 forming a township of above 300 inhabitants, with a Methodist church, 
 a public library, four schools, two light-houses, and many establishments 
 for the curing of fish. 
 
 Somes's Sound cleaves the island half in two, its wild and lonely 
 waters entering for leagues into the breast of the mountains, its com- 
 mingled odors of salty sea and piny forests perfuming the delightful air. 
 It is an arm of the sea that resembles a deep tidal river, a Norwegian 
 fiord, cutting its way through barriers of rocky cliffs and ranges of 
 frowning hills, and rippling across secluded mountain-glades, overhung 
 with sombre dark forests. The inner recesses and coves of this noble 
 sound have a solemn beauty, rich in wonderful contrasts of light and 
 shade, and reflecting line after line of huge and inaccessible peaks, 
 known only to the deer and the eagle. In the morning one may catch 
 cod in the deep sea, and a few hours later may entice the spotted trout 
 from his cool seclusion in a mountain-tarn. 
 
 Agassiz sa}'s that " Mount Desert was once a miniature Spitzbergen, 
 and colossal icebergs floated off from Somes's Sound." The summer 
 temperature now ranges from sixty to seventy degrees, with a remarka- 
 bly pure and bracing air, sometimes charged with fog; and people who 
 go out riding or sailing always carry extra wraps, to provide against occa- 
 sional cold sea-turns. The frequency of sudden flaws of wind along 
 Somes's Sound, flying down out of the gorges, renders it necessary to 
 sail here with great caution. In time a steamboat will ply between 
 Somesville and the outer harbors, and then this scenery, which has been 
 likened to the Hudson Highlands, or Lake George, can be enjoyed at 
 its best. 
 
 In 1609, Hendrick Hudson, while on his way south to discover the 
 river which immortalizes his name, sailed into Somes's Sound, and 
 opened upon the amazed natives with his roaring Dutch artillery. The 
 first American settler was Abraham Somes, of Gloucester, who, in 1760, 
 
1 24 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 established his home at the head of the wonderful fiord which still bears 
 his name; and a few years later several families from Cape Cod occu- 
 pied the other coves around the shores. Somesville is one of the 
 quietest of country villages, on a picturesque, hill-girt, tidal bay in the 
 heart of the island, with two or three small hotels, which are much fre- 
 quented by driving parties from Bar Haibor, following the road around 
 the head of the Sound. 
 
 Bar Harbor, the summer capital of the island, derives its name 
 from a sandy bar which runs out thence to one of the Porcupine Islands, 
 and faces on the broad reaches of Frenchman's Bay. In 1868 the 
 Agamont Hotel and a k\w farm-houses, were the only buildings here- 
 abouts ; but the caprice of fashion and the rich advantages of the 
 locality have brought about a wonderful change, and now the shore is 
 lined with magnificent villas and parks, — the homes of the Searses, 
 Ogdens, Musgraves, Howes, and other patrician families, — while beyond 
 are streets provided with all the appliances of modern city life, and 
 lined with metropolitan stores and huge hotels. The strip along the 
 water-front, with its spacious houses, in quaint and picturesque archi- 
 tecture, is a down-east Newport; the great village above is a combina- 
 tion of Bethlehem and Old Orchard. 
 
 The new town has admirable streets, a fire department with a steam 
 fire-engine, water- works dependent on the crystalline Eagle Lake, a new 
 high school, a complicated and efficient system of sewers ; churches 
 for Episcopalians, Roman Catholics, and Methodists; two bright and 
 gossipy newspapers ; lecture-courses, a skating rink, and a public library. 
 
 Upwards of $5,000,000 has been invested here, and real estate 
 commands enormous prices. The unknown little hamlet of fishermen 
 gave place to a village of somewhat primitive summer boarding-houses, 
 and this, in turn, has been metamorphosed into a fashionable town, — 
 the royal summer-resort of Maine; the pearl of that wonderful three 
 thousand miles of sinous coast which stretches from Kittery Point to 
 Quoddy Head. 
 
 In its early days Mount Desert was the paradise of the unconven- 
 tional, where comfortably clad summer-idlers unbent their year-long 
 city formalisms, and indulged in all manner of fishing and sailing, clam- 
 bering over the rocks and up the mountains, long buckboard rides, 
 
Mount Desert. 125 
 
 and other rural amusements. Of late years this freedom of recreation 
 has been growing more restricted, and the inmates of the cottages and 
 the habitues of the great hotels appear to be introducing somewhat 
 of the stately decorum of Newport and Nahant. When the French 
 dress-maker asks, "What are Mademoiselle's commands for summer- 
 costume?" Miss Knickerbocker answers, "Oh, something that will 
 look well against a rock. I am going to Mount Desert." The first sum- 
 mer-cottage here was built by the Hon. Alpheus Hardy, of Boston, and 
 Governeur M. Ogden was the pioneer of the New York colonists. Now 
 every picturesque cove and headland along the adjacent shore is oc- 
 cupied by gems of rural architecture : old-English cottages, — houses 
 which suggest Queen Anne, — dignified mansions rising from velvety 
 lawns, — snug lodges dominating lovely curving beaches, and high- 
 towered villas among the deep pine woods a thousand feet above. The 
 season for the cottagers begins early in June, and lasts into September. 
 So predominant has this element become, that it warrants the annual 
 issue of a very pretty illustrated Blue Book, which gives the names and 
 places of residence of the cottage aristocracy. 
 
 There are many romantic rambles in the vicinity, and it is in good 
 form to walk here, and to climb the rocks and mountains, and clamber 
 along the shore-cliffs, in strong and serviceable garments. Thus the 
 young men and maidens haunt the coast-line towards Cromwell's Har- 
 bor and Saul's Cliffs ; or ascend the gorges of Duck Brook ; or look 
 down on Bar Harbor from the top of Kebo ; or gain the grand view 
 from the crest of Newport Mountain ; or go down along the beach at 
 low tide, and study the various fascinating forms of marine life. The 
 variety of rambles in every direction is almost inexhaustible, and the 
 views are rich in all elements of grandeur and beauty. Whoever has 
 De Costa's "Mount Desert" for the history, and the Blue Book for a 
 topographical guide, and "Golden Rod," or "The Summer School of 
 Philosophy," or " The Confessions of a Frivolous Girl," or " Mrs. Beau- 
 champ Brown," for the study of the humanities, cannot fail of abundant 
 entertainment and health-giving diversion. The costumes of the ladies 
 are brilliant beyond description, and bravely light up the dark rocks 
 and groves; and the young men, in their knee-breeches and odd jackets, 
 present a more noteworthy appearance, certainly, than they do in our 
 
1 26 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 city streets. The buckboard, which Hassard describes as "long as an 
 obelisk, and as hard to turn," and some one else calls " a cross between 
 a see-saw and a hammock," is the favorite vehicle for driving parties, 
 and also finds practical use in transporting that class of the community 
 known as " hauled mealers." 
 
 The rise and fall of the tide here is upwards of fifteen feet, and the 
 high isthmus which leads at ebb tide to Bar Island, the old Rodick 
 homestead, is covered with deep water at full tide. South-east of the 
 harbor is Porcupine Island, with cliffs of jagged rock two hundred feet 
 high, facing the sea. This noble solitude was bought by Gen. Fremont 
 for $500; but when financial disasters overtook the great Pathfinder of 
 the West, he was constrained to relinquish this, with many other posses- 
 sions. Near the village is an encampment of Penobscot Indians, tall, 
 good-natured, lazy fellows, with plenty of gaudily-dressed squaws and 
 pappooses, who make great numbers of baskets, canoes, and other 
 barbaric curiosities, which are eagerly bought up by the visitors. Some 
 of these half-French and entirely-Romish aborigines are among the 
 best boatmen at Bar Harbor, and carry their delighted white patrons far 
 out on the breezy bay in their light birch canoes. 
 
 It is nearly three miles from Bar Harbor to Eagle Lake, that lonely 
 inland water to which Church, the famous artist, gave its name. Here 
 are trout innumerable, and boats in which to seek them ; and not far 
 distant are the favorite fishing-grounds of Jordan's Pond. About the 
 same distance from Bar Harbor to the southward is the fine gorge 
 between Newport and Dry Mountains, which has been likened to the 
 notches of New Hampshire. The road between Newport and the bay 
 leads to Schooner Head, a bold rocky promontory, against which the 
 Atlantic surges rush, bursting up through the famous Spouting Horn, in 
 its top. A little way below is Anemone Cave, famous for its beautiful 
 sea-anemones, and further down rises the frowning cliff of Great Head, 
 sheltering the only good beach on the island. Beyond the gorge under 
 Dry Mountain, the road descends to the Otter-Creek Clifls, one hundred 
 and twelve feet high, nearly two miles from Great Head. Northward 
 of Bar Harbor the road leads along the rugged coast to Duck Brook 
 and Hull's Cove, and by the slaty and sea-beaten caverns called the 
 Ovens, and the Gothic-pointed cliffs of the Cathedral. 
 
Mount Desert. 127 
 
 The ascent of Green Mountain is made by a railway similar to 
 that on Mount Washington, built in 1883, ascending from Eagle 
 Lake by a grade of one in three, the station being reached by a steam- 
 boat sail of three miles over the lake, from a point two and a half 
 miles from Bar Harbor. The summit is four miles from, and fifteen 
 hundred feet above. Bar Harbor, and may also be reached by a steep 
 carriage- road. On the summit is a little inn, formerly much patronized 
 by persons who stayed on the summit all night, in order to see the sun 
 rise. The view is magnificent, and includes leagues on leagues of open 
 sea, the gem-like outer islands, the long levels of Frenchman's Bay, the 
 great mountains from Interlaken Hill to Katahdin, and bits of Eagle 
 Lake and Somes's Sound. Five thousand persons visit this peak every 
 year; and now that the route has been made at once easier, cheaper, and 
 more interesting, the number will greatly increase. 
 
 At the head of Frenchman's Bay are the quiet old towns of Han- 
 cock and Sullivan, the first noted for its gallant fishermen, and the noble 
 scenery of Crabtree's Neck, and the second for its vast granite quarries, 
 silver mines, and ship-yards. At Sullivan is the spacious and com^fort- 
 able Waukeag House, a well-known summer-resort near the salt water. 
 Gouldsborough. across the bay from Bar Harbor, is a rugged land of 
 hills, abounding in mines, and fringed with pretty little harbors and bold 
 islands. 
 
 The coast towns between Frenchman's Bay and Passamaquoddy 
 Bay are Steuben, the home of hardy fishermen ; Millbridge, the port 
 of the great lumber-mills of Cherryfield; Harrington, with a lofty obe- 
 lisk of white marble erected to the memory of its soldier dead ; Addi- 
 son, with a quarry of fine black granite ; Jonesport, projecting far sea- 
 ward, amid its tributary islands ; Jonesborough, rich in admirable red 
 granite, now much used for fine work in the cities ; Machiasport, on a 
 splendid harbor, where ship-yards abound, and the port of the prosper- 
 ous town of Machias, famous in colonial and Revolutionary history; 
 Whiting, a great hilly township with few inhabitants ; Cutler, looking 
 out on the Bay of Fundy; Trescott, a sea-fronting Roman Catholic 
 town ; and Lubec, populous and beautifully situated, with Grand Manan 
 on one side, and Campobello on the other. It is a wild and picturesque 
 shore, cut into by deep fiords, and fronted by lines of lovely islands. 
 
BANGOR AND THE NORTHERN 
 
 EOREST. 
 
 BANGOR. 
 
 ANGOR is at the head of navigation on the Penobscot River, 
 sixty miles from the sea, and has about 18,000 inhabitants, 
 with the true Yankee liberaHty of churches, schools, and news- 
 papers, great hotels, and busy streets of stores and offices. 
 It was first settled in 1769, on the Indian domain of Kendus- 
 keag, and derived its name from the venerable psalm-tune of 
 Bangor, then a favorite melody with the pioneers. An old legend 
 says that the Rev. Seth Noble, the town's representative, was ordered to 
 have it named Snnbury; but he substituted the present title, under which, 
 and before due protest could be offered, the act of incorporation was 
 granted. In 18 14 the British fleet captured the village, and laid it under 
 contribution, to the infinite disgust of the patriotic citizens, whose houses 
 were ruthlessly pillaged by the enemy. 
 
 Bangor has long been known as the Queen City of the East, and is 
 the social capital of the great Penobscot Valley, with many tokens of 
 opulence and dignity. Among the houses along its well-shaded streets 
 are the homes of the lumber kings, who own an area of Northern Maine 
 greater than Connecticut and Rhode Island united. With its increase 
 of wealth and social importance Bangor has enjoyed also a marked 
 literary development, and in its bibliography appear the names of nearly 
 two hundred authors. Many distinguished political leaders and several 
 
 (12.S) 
 
Bangor. 1 29 
 
 able diplomats have also been residents here. Among the eminent 
 clergymen who have been stationed at Bangor have been John Cotton 
 Smith, Mark Trafton, Newman Smyth, Frederick H. Hedge, Charles C. 
 Everett, Samuel L. Caldwell, Cyrus Hamlin, Leonard Woods, and Enoch 
 Pond ; and with such a group of pastors the religious name of the town 
 has been well maintained. The Bangor Theological Seminary stands 
 on the heights, amid broad lawns and venerable trees, and is a Congre- 
 gationalist school, incorporated in 1814, with about forty students and 
 seven hundred graduates, many of whom, like Webb, Tenney, Hamlin, 
 Lord, H. B. Smith, Means, Peloubet, Gordon, and Chamberlain, have 
 done noble pastoral, missionary, and educational work. Not far distant, 
 near the handsome Unitarian church and the Opera House, is the spa- 
 cious Bangor House, a very comfortable and well-placed first-class 
 hotel, and the point of departure of the stages for Mount Desert. 
 
 The chief public buildings are the U. S. Post-Office, a substantial 
 granite structure ; the State Arsenal, in the environs ; and the massive 
 county buildings, surrounded by lawns and trees. In Norumbega Hall 
 and the Opera House the chief orators, lecturers, singers, and actors 
 of the last thirty years have appeared. The water-supply of the city is 
 excellent, and the great stationary engines at the reservoirs, with the 
 multitude of hydrants in the streets, make large fires almost impossible. 
 The business district is in the lowlands, about the mouth of the Ken- 
 duskeag and along the Penobscot; and on the commanding hills adja- 
 cent are many pleasant residence streets, overarched with large trees. 
 
 Ship-building, once one of the chief industries of the place, has con- 
 siderably fallen off since Congress annihilated this great New-England 
 trade ; but many other manufactures have taken its place. The para- 
 mount business of this locality, however, is that connected with the 
 lumber trade. The logs are brought down from the booms near Sunk- 
 haze, to the great Bangor boom, in drives of from five million to twenty 
 million feet, and thence they arc rafted out to the six mills of the city, 
 where they are cut into various forms of lumber for the Boston and New 
 York markets. This is the second lumber mart in the world (during 
 the last three years, four hundred and fifty million feet of lumber have 
 been surveyed here), and near its long-drawn miles of booms anchor the 
 largest ships, bearing the flags of all the great maritime nations. The 
 
1 30 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 arterial tributaries of the Penobscot penetrate the vast Maine forest 
 for thousands of miles, and bring its yearly tribute of timber to this 
 fair tide-water city, for distribution throughout the world. Many billions 
 of feet of long and short lumber have thus been handled here, and now 
 enter into the composition of far-off homes. When the annual ice- 
 blockade is broken up in the spring-time, and the fleets come up above 
 Wintcrport and Bucksport, and the armies of stalwart lumbermen emerge 
 from the desolate northern woods, the streets of the city arc full of life 
 and motion, and, what with rollicking mariners and woodsmen set free 
 from arduous winter-work, and paid off with large sums of money, the 
 civic police have active duties to perform. But it is claimed that year 
 by year these elements in the municipal history become relatively less 
 important, while with her steady growth in wealth, culture, and local 
 pride, Bangor takes honorable place among the great cities of New 
 England. 
 
 Besides its advantages as a county capital, and metropolis for the 
 wide area of Eastern Maine, Bangor derives great importance as a 
 central point for travellers, being the terminus of four railways, ten 
 stage-routes, and several lines of steamboats, for Boston, Mount Desert, 
 and various landings on the river. Upwards of two thousand vessels 
 enter the port yearly, and their aggregate amounts to nearly four hundred 
 thousand tons. There is a large trade to West-Indian and European 
 ports, which receive (besides lumber) various kinds of manufactured 
 goods from Bangor. When the immense water-power at Oldtown and 
 along the river shall have been utilized — and it is now being fast taken 
 up — Bangor will be one of the leading manufacturing cities of New 
 England. 
 
 From Thomas's Hill, on the edge of the city, there is a fine view of 
 the Ebeeme and Passadumkeag Mountains, the Dixmont Hills, and 
 other distant peaks around the horizon. Another favorite drive leads 
 out Kenduskeag Avenue to Lover's Leap, a noble cliff on the Kendus- 
 keag River, dowered with the usual tradition of a [)air of luckless Indian 
 lovers. Other pleasant carriage routes lead to Mount Ilojie Cemetery, 
 near the Penobscot, and to the Holly Water Works, at Treat's Falls, 
 and up the craggy and picturesque ravine of the Kenduskeag. 
 
The Route to Moosehead Lake. 131 
 
 THE ROUTE TO MOOSEHEAD LAKE. 
 
 The favorite way to get from outer civilization into the pleasant 
 primitiveness of the Moosehead region leads by the Bangor and Piscata- 
 quis Railroad, which diverges from the railroad running eastward from 
 Bangor at Oldtown, and crosses to the valley of the Piscataquis, travers- 
 ing the thrifty but decadent rural towns of Alton, La Grange, and 
 Orneville. 
 
 From Brownville a road diverges to the north-east, running to the 
 Lower Ebeeme Ponds (whence it is four miles by river to the Upper 
 Ebeeme Pond), a group of pretty and sequestered lakelets in a pictu- 
 resque mountain country, with very good shooting and fishing. i\ path 
 less than a mile long leads from the lowest Ebeeme Pond to Schoodic 
 Lake, a large and handsome sheet of water in a lonely land. 
 
 A portage leads across from Schoodic to Lake Seboois, one of the 
 loveliest of forest archipelagoes, which is connected by a strait with 
 Endless Lake. The uninhabited logging-road from Brownville, after 
 running between Lower Ebeeme and Schoodic, traverses several 
 leagues of grim desolation, to the Jo Mary Lakes and the Twin Lakes, 
 on the West Branch of the Penobscot. Guides to this region may 
 be obtained at Brownville. 
 
 Katahdin Iron Works are at the end of a railway diverging from the 
 Piscataquis route at Milo, and running up the valley of Pleasant RiveY 
 for sixteen miles, crossing the town of Brownville, famous for its quar- 
 ries of fine slate, worked by industrious Welshmen. The Iron Works 
 were established in 1843, and the product of the mine is ranked very 
 high for its valuable properties of strength and tenacity. From seventy- 
 five to one hundred tons of iron are made per week, and it is regarded 
 as especially adapted for car-wheels and other uses where great endur- 
 ance is required. Near the village is the Silver-Lake Hotel, fronting on a 
 large pond, and recently augmented by a considerable addition, so that 
 it can accommodate almost a hundred guests. Many sportsmen who 
 
132 Slimmer Days Down East. 
 
 have been driven from the Rangeley country by the advent of civihza- 
 tion find at Katahdin Iron Works very good sport, — deer, caribou, 
 and smaller game in the woods, trout and landlocked salmon in the 
 adjacent streams and ponds. On the east are the Ebeeme Lakes and 
 Mountains; on the west, the wild Houston ponds; and on the north, 
 fifty miles of rarely visited ponds and streams, in the unbroken wilder- 
 ness which stretches northward to Mount Katahdin and Chesuncook 
 Lake. There is a rude road to Chesuncook and Ripogenus, which, at 
 ten miles from the L'on Works, passes B Pond, famous for its trout and 
 caribou. Six miles by road from the Iron Works is the great canon 
 called the Gulf, which is traversed by the river for three miles. About 
 four miles from the hotel, respectively, are the summits of two moun- 
 tains. Horseback and Chairback, overlooking many square leagues of 
 unsettled wilderness. There are several other interesting resorts in the 
 vicinity where sportsmen find abundant amusement. 
 
 Sebec was sold by Bowdoin College to Richard Pike, of Newbury- 
 port, for seventy cents an acre, in 1803, in which year the first family 
 settled here. It now has about 800 inhabitants, with many good farms 
 and some small manufactures. From South Sebec, on the railroad, 
 stages run five miles north, to the village of Sebec, whence a steamboat 
 plies daily up the long and narrow lower pond, and across the pretty 
 Sebec Lake, surrounded by high mountains and pretty bays, to the Lake 
 House, at the mouth of Wilson Stream. Large and spirited landlocked 
 salmon are caught here, and in the multitude of ponds adjacent; and 
 boats, provisions, and guides may be obtained at Sebec. Still farther 
 into the wild lands is Sheep Pond, very celebrated for its beautiful 
 scenery. The landlocked salmon in Buck's Cove, an islaud-studded 
 nook of Sebec Lake, afford very good sport, and make very delicious 
 suppers. 
 
 Dover, the capital of Piscataquis County, is a neat village south 
 of the river, with a newspaper and a savings-bank, and several square 
 miles of good farming lands. Across the river is the busy factory- 
 village of Foxcroft, with a snug little inn fronting on the public square, 
 near the academy and the Congregational church. Beyond Sanger- 
 ville are the prosperous hamlets of Guilford and Abbott, west of which 
 the track rises on high grades, and gives broad views over the valley, 
 
The Route to Moos eke ad Lake. 133 
 
 now becoming mountainous in character. Amid such scenes of inter- 
 est the train runs on to Blanchard, at whose railway-restaurant people 
 have time to take a noon-day meal before the stage starts for the 
 lake. 
 
 Monson, five miles east of Blanchard and nine hundred feet above 
 the sea, will soon be connected by a narrow-gauge railroad with the 
 Bangor and Piscataquis line. There are large quarries of fine roofing- 
 slate about the pretty village near the outlet of Lake Hebron, employ- 
 ing two hundred and fifty men, and shipping over six hundred car- 
 loads yearly. The best of fishing is found hereabouts, and several of 
 the twenty-five ponds of Monson have been stocked with that rare and 
 delicious fish, the German carp. A new hotel has been built on the 
 plateau over Lake Hebron, for the accommodation of summer-visitors, 
 with rooms for one hundred guests. Nine miles distant is Ship Pond, 
 covering nearly eight square miles, endowed with great natural beauty, 
 and abounding in lake trout and landlocked salmon. This gem of 
 the forest has recently received the name of Lake Onaway, commemo- 
 rating an Indian maiden of the Penobscot tribe, who, while being carried 
 away by a foray of Chesuncook Indians, escaped at night from their 
 camp by this lake, and returned safely to her people. 
 
 The stage-ride from Blanchard up the hills to Shirley, five miles, 
 and thence away to Greenville, six miles further, at the foot of Moose- 
 head Lake, has many attractive features, especially to wise travellers 
 who get up on the outside. The mountains of the adjacent lumber 
 principalities, the distant views of blue Katahdin, and, finally, the 
 charming views up the lake, with the Lily-Bay and Ebeeme Mountains 
 on the right and Squaw Mountain on the left, make a succession of 
 pleasing pictures, framed by the waving branches of the roadside trees. 
 
1 34 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 MOOSEHEAD LAKE. 
 
 Greenville, at the end of the east cove of Moosehead Lake, is a 
 village of about 300 inhabitants, with a church and two hotels, and 
 several large country-stores, which furnish the supplies for the logging- 
 camps in the wilderness beyond. In the perpetual campaign against 
 the Maine woods Greenville is an important strategic point, and large 
 detachments of lumbermen pass through every season. There are 
 also several eligible ponds in the vicinity, where heroes from the cities 
 pursue the crafty trout. The Wilson Ponds, within three or four miles, 
 and Squaw and Fitzgerald Ponds, are frequently visited ; while people 
 with strong topographical interests ascend to the top of Squaw Moun- 
 tain, the chief peak of the Moosehead family, and admirers of 
 romantic scenery sail or canoe out on the lake, among its diversified 
 bays and islands. 
 
 The time is not far distant when armies of summer travellers shall 
 penetrate the heart of the Maine wilderness, looking out upon the dim 
 haunts of the bear and moose through the plate-glass windows of 
 palace-cars. The International Railway has surveyed a route almost 
 due east from the present terminus of its line from Montreal, at Lake 
 Megantic, across the forest to Greenville, at the foot of Moosehead 
 Lake, and thence through another vast expanse of savage woods to 
 Lincoln, or Mattawamkeag, where the European and North American 
 Railway leaves the Penobscot Valley, toward New Brunswick. 
 
 Moosehead Lake is at once the largest and most interesting of the 
 lakes of Maine, and it has for many years been a favorite goal for the 
 summer pilgrimages of great numbers of people. A thousand feet 
 above the sea, thirty-eight miles long, and with four hundred miles of 
 sinuous coast-line, this noble inland sea affords interest and amusement 
 to all temperaments, and its delicious air, saturated with the odors of 
 pine and spruce, is a tonic of rare properties. Here and there the 
 shores are indented by deep coves and half-enclosed bays, or overhung 
 by long lines of shaggy highlands, or (more rarely) broken by clearings 
 
Moosehead Lake. 135 
 
 and white farm-houses, denoting the advance of civilization toward the 
 heart of tlie forest. 
 
 The Mount Kineo House is twenty-one miles from Greenville, down 
 the lake, and the voyage has many features of interest. At first the 
 most conspicuous object is Squaw Mountain, rising on the left to a great 
 height, and conspicuous from all parts of the lake. On the other side, 
 and scarcely discernible for the ranks of islands across its mouth, is Lily 
 Bay, overlooked by the Lily-Bay Mountains, and half taken up by fairy 
 islands. There is a small hotel in there, thirteen miles by road from 
 Greenville; and seven miles further into the woods, beyond the moun- 
 tains, and close to Roach Pond, is another small hotel, frequented by 
 trout-fishers. About half-way between Greenville and Mount Kineo the 
 boat stops at Deer Island, near a small summer boarding-house; and 
 then traverses the narrows between Deer and Sugar Islands, the latter 
 of which covers seven thousand acres, and is unoccupied. Next, the 
 steamer enters the broadest part of the lake, with Kineo ahead, the hotel 
 at the East Outlet four miles off on the port bow, and on the other side, 
 the narrow opening of Spencer Bay, almost closed up by an islet, and 
 opening a vista back to the distant Spencer Mountains, four thousand 
 feet high, with occasional glimpses of Katahdin far away in the 
 east. Running over the dam at the outlet, the Kennebec, born in 
 this northern sea, flows away to the south-east, reaching The Forks 
 after several swift leagues of rapids and dead-water, and thence flow- 
 ing downward with more dignity, by many an ancient town, to the 
 distant ocean. 
 
 The Mount Kineo House, so dear to a generation of tourists, was 
 burned during the year 1882, and a smaller hotel, since built near its 
 site, accommodates the annual immigration until another vast summer- 
 palace shall rise on the historic point. The hotels at Greenville, at the 
 East Outlet, and on the other bays, may profit by the temporary disaster ; 
 but the capital of the summer population will always be on this lovely 
 peninsula under Mount Kineo, and stretching almost across the lake. 
 The mountain is a vast mass of hornblende, fully two thousand one 
 hundred and fifty feet above the sea, almost perpendicular on the south 
 and east, and running down to beaches of sand and pebbles. The sum- 
 mit is easily ascended, and commands a very interesting view over the 
 
1 36 Sitnmier Days Down East. 
 
 lake-country and its guardian mountains, and out to distant peaks in 
 remote counties. 
 
 The Mount Kineo House is on the meridian h'ne of pure air and 
 good appetites, lovely and peaceful scenes, and the occasionally welcome 
 tinconventionalism of flannel shirts and short skirts. For many years 
 the current of travel hitherward has increased continually, as the many 
 advantages of the region became more widely known and appreciated, 
 and especially as the railroad approached nearer and nearer to the lake, 
 and made the journey less formidable. Boating and fishing and hunting, 
 and that best of all recreations, loafing, may be enjoyed here in almost 
 every form. The Newport gilded youth may come up here and wear 
 his pretty bangles on the piazza of the hotel ; and his sturdier brethren 
 can relapse into temporary savagery among the adjacent coves, where 
 neither road nor village, church bell nor locomotive whistle, intrudes on 
 their embowered camps. 
 
 James Russell Lowell came up here once, and admired "the deep 
 blue mountains, of remarkably graceful outline," but laughed good- 
 naturedly at Greenville as " a village which looked as if it had dripped 
 down from the hills, and settled in the hollow at the foot of the lake." 
 He likened Mount Kineo to Capri; but Tahmunt, the Indian hunter, 
 told Thoreau, who encamped here many years ago, that the first white 
 men who came into this region fancied a resemblance between Kineo 
 and a moose's head, and named the lake therefor. The ancient New- 
 England tribes were mainly supplied with arrow-heads and tomahawks 
 from the sharp-edged fragments of the Kineo cliff's ; and they called 
 the lake Sebaniook, meaning (like Sebec and Sebago) "the Great 
 Pond; " and Chenebesic, or "the Great Water Place." The wild Indian 
 legend of Kineo is told in the local guide-books. (Hubbard's is the 
 best of these.) 
 
 There arc many interesting points to which to make excursions 
 vvithin a short sailing distance. Among these are the Moody Islands, 
 famous as fishing-grounds; the Gull Rocks; the shadowy Cowen's 
 Cove, and many another coign of vantage, made accessible by pleasant 
 water-routes, and each justifying a holiday journey. In rambling 
 about the peninsula one may find ledges of gold-bearing quartz, 
 caverns in the rocky cliffs, lonely and sequestered beaches, croquet- 
 
Chesuncook and Katahdin. 137 
 
 squares and base-ball diamonds, and the productive fields whence the 
 vegetable side-dishes of the hotel are drawn. There is a goodly- 
 company of stalwart and trusty guides connected with the hotel, and 
 their boats and canoes are always ready to carry travellers to remoter 
 solitudes, to the beautiful Brassua Lake and its pathetic Miseree stream, 
 to the alluring waters of Tomhegan and Socatean, to Duck Cove and 
 the West Outlet, and a score of other frequented localities. 
 
 CHESUNCOOK AND KATAHDIN. 
 
 The upper part of Moosehead Lake is called the North Bay, and 
 is traversed semi-weekly by a steamboat, which runs up for twenty 
 miles or so to the North-east Carry, where there is a great pier and a 
 small hotel. A portage-road leads thence to the West Branch of the 
 Penobscot, over which Lowell carried his baggage while exploring the 
 lakes. " My estimate of the distance is eighteen thousand six hundred 
 and seventy-four and three-fourths miles," said he; but the surveys 
 make it only two miles. The river runs thence down to Chesuncook 
 Lake, eighteen miles, by many a rapid, but still navigable for canoes. 
 From the North-west Carry it is two or three miles across to the 
 West Branch of the Penobscot, which may be ascended by canoes, for 
 sixteen miles (in ten or twelve hours), to the Forks, where the North 
 and South Branches flow together. Twenty-seven miles distant up 
 the North Branch, by a route where navigation is difficult, is the 
 Abacotnetic Bog, where deer and caribou enjoy almost unchallenged 
 possession ; and a portage leads thence to Baker Lake, one of the upper 
 reservoirs to the great St. John River, two long days' journey above the 
 Seven Islands. In another direction, up the South Branch, is Penobscot 
 Lake, the cradle of the river which bears its name, mirroring the high 
 mountains of the Canadian frontier. Old tote-roads ascend these two 
 valleys and cross the border into French America. 
 
1 38 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Chesuncook Lake is a bulge in the Penobscot, eighteen miles long, 
 and in places three miles wide, with a little farming hamlet at the head, 
 a church, and a hotel, and a fine view of Katahdin and the Sourdnahunk 
 Mountains. Rugged and lonely roads run hence to Moosehead Lake; 
 to the long-drawn Chamberlain Lake, the reservoir of the Allagash 
 River; and to the beautiful scenery which surrounds Caucomgomoc 
 Lake. Between Chesuncook and the French Canadian villages on the 
 St. Lawrence there are no hamlets nor villages, nothing but woods and 
 lakes, rivers, rapids, and mountains, abounding in game and fish, and as 
 yet unattacked by permanent civilization. It is about ninety miiles 
 down the West Branch to Mattawamkeag, on the railway, the stream 
 flowing down through Ripogenus, Pamedomcook, and the Twin Lakes, 
 and past the mouths of many a famous fishing stream. 
 
 Many travellers descend this romantic stream, favored by frequent 
 glimpses of great Katahdin and its minor brethren, and blest with many 
 an encampment in the quiet forest, with provisions supplied by the 
 adjacent waters. A two-mile stream conducts from Chesuncook to 
 Caribou Lake, seven miles long. The outlet of Chesuncook soon opens 
 into Ripogenus Lake, commanding remarkably fine views of Katahdin 
 and the Sourdnahunk range, and surrounded by lovely scenery, includ- 
 ing the great rocky gorge through which the river flows away to the 
 south, over rapids and falls, with occasional patches of navigable dead 
 water. There are many portages to be made around Pockwockamon, 
 Katepskonegan, Passamagamook, and other polysyllabic falls ; but the 
 scenery is beautiful and full of variety, and choice fishing is found on 
 all sides. From Pamedomcook Lake the rare beauties of Millnoket, 
 Nahmakanta, and Rainbow Lakes are visited. Pamedomcook is 
 characterized by Theodore Winthrop as " the largest bulge of the 
 Penobscot, and irregular as the verb 'To be.'" It commands fine 
 distant views of Katahdin, the presiding genius of all these wilderness 
 leagues. 
 
 Mount Katahdin, the chief mountain of Maine, rises to a height 
 of five thousand three hundred and eighty-five feet, from the quiet 
 wilderness between the Last and West Branches, so far away from the 
 human world that it is rarely visited, save by the most adventurous of 
 tourists, or the most enterprising of scientific persons. The western 
 
Chesuncook and Katahdin. 139 
 
 route to the top leads in a day from the West Branch, near Ayboljocka- 
 mejus and Sandy Stream, up to 
 
 " Where, through clouds, are glimpses given 
 Of Katahdin's sides, — 
 Rock and forest piled to heaven, 
 Torn and ploughed by slides." 
 
 The most direct route to the top of Mount Katahdin leads in from 
 Mattawamkeag to Sherman Village, and Katahdin Lake, a distance of 
 fifty miles, whence it is about ten miles by a very arduous route to the 
 crest. The twin peaks rise from a broad mossy plateau, strewn with 
 rocks, and haunted by clouds, and are joined by a long and dangerous 
 ridge, very narrow, on one side a tremendous escarped cliff falling away 
 hundreds of feet into deep, woody glens, where it is mirrored in 
 dark ponds. The view is magnificent and sombre, without signs of 
 human occupation, village, spire, or clearing, but lighted up by the 
 flashing surfaces of five hundred ponds and lakes, which, as a poetic 
 visitor remarked, resemble a mirror broken into a thousand fragments, 
 scattered over the greenwood counties, and reflecting the sun on every 
 side. 
 
THE EASTERN FRONTIER. 
 
 THE ROUTE TO AROOSTOOK AND THE 
 MARITIME PROVINCES. 
 
 HE great land route from Boston and Portland to the Eastern 
 Provinces of Canada runs north and east from Bangor to the 
 frontier, where it connects with the railway system of New 
 Brunswick, by which access is gained to all important points 
 in that Province and Nova Scotia, and the lovely scenery of Cape 
 Breton, After leaving Bangor the route follows the Penobscot 
 River for many miles, with great saw-mills, lumber-booms, and other ap- 
 purtenances of Maine's chief industry, strung out along and across the 
 stream. Beyond the pretty village of Veazie it passes Orono, the seat 
 of the State College of Agriculture and the Mechanic Arts; and beyond 
 West Great Works it reaches Oldtown, where the Bangor & Piscataquis 
 Railroad diverges towards Moosehcad Lake. On an island in the river 
 is the chief Indian village of New England, where more than two hun- 
 dred Tarratine (or Penobscot) Indians dwell, with neat little houses, a 
 Roman-Catholic church, and schools taught by devoted Sisters of Mercy. 
 The women make great quantities of curious baskets and beadwork, to 
 sell to tourists ; and the men are expert and daring lumbermen, boat- 
 men, and guides. The State has reserved for them the seven-score 
 islands in the river above this point, covering four thousand five hundred 
 acres, and, under treaty stipulations, gives them a handsome annual 
 
 grant of money. 
 
 (140) 
 
The Route to Aroostook. 141 
 
 The train crosses the Penobscot above Oldtown, and runs up its 
 east bank to Milford, a quiet elm-shaded village, which lost fifty men 
 in the civil war. Further on is Greenbush, where snow-shoes and 
 moccasins are made; Paasadumkeag, a lumber-manufacturing village, 
 with an adjacent island bearing the ruins of a French fort; Enfield, near 
 the broad waters of Coldstream Pond, abounding in fish ; and Lincoln, 
 whence stages depart for the forest towns. A i^"^ miles beyond the 
 train reaches Mattawamkeag, a busy village at the confluence of the 
 Mattawamkeag and Penobscot Rivers, on the site of a very ancient 
 Indian town. Stages run thence northward twenty-five miles along the 
 old military road, to Sherman, a pretty village on the Molunkus ; and 
 ten miles beyond to Patten. The usual route to Mount Katahdin leads 
 westward from Sherman, most of the way over rugged portage roads, by 
 Stacyville and across the East Branch to Katahdin Lake (twenty-seven 
 miles), where the night-camp is usually made. A path leads from the 
 lake to the summit in six or eight very tiresome and picturesque miles. 
 
 A fev/ miles beyond Mattawamkeag, at Bancroft, the railway leaves 
 the Mattawamkeag Valley, and turns to the south-east, running down by 
 Danforth, whence stages go north to Houlton, passing through the towns 
 along the upper Chiputneticook waters; by Jackson Brook; through 
 Forest, whose stage-route runs southerly into the Schoodic region; by 
 Lambert Lake, and out through the woods to Vanceboro', the last 
 American station. It is a little Methodist hamlet of 300 inhabitants, 
 with one or two inns and two stores. From Vanceboro' sportsmen 
 enter the grand solitudes of the Chiputneticook Lakes, extending 
 from the village, for nearly fifty miles, to the north-west, and in 
 some places attaining a width of ten miles, with infinite variety of 
 scenery, hundreds of islands and islets clad with cedars, hemlocks, and 
 birches, narrow straits leading through far-surrounding archipelagoes, 
 still and sequestered coves and bays, and broad reaches of open water. 
 Great numbers of boulders and ledges, composed of fine white granite, 
 are found here, lining the shores like titanic masonry, or gleaming 
 / through the transparent waters. The tall highlands which approach the 
 lakes are mantled with heavy forests to their summits, and shelter un- 
 disturbed colonies of moose and caribou, deer and bears, foxes and 
 wolves, and all the other animals of primeval New England. In the 
 
1 42 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 lakes great numbers of landlocked salmon and pickerel may be caught, 
 and trout densely populate the inflowing brooks. The chief industry in 
 this region is the collecting of bark, for the immense sole-leather tan- 
 neries at Forest City, where myriads of buffalo-hides from the far West 
 are made into serviceable leather. A quaint and wheezy little steam- 
 boat plies up and down the lakes, carrying the tan-bark from various 
 places of deposit along the shores, down to the so-called " city." 
 
 A branch line from the New-Brunswick Railway meets the Maine 
 Central track at Vanceboro', where passengers bound north or south, 
 for the Aroostook or Passamaquoddy regions, change cars. 
 
 The railroad crosses the St. Croix River at Vanceboro', and seven 
 miles beyond reaches McAdam Junction, where it is crossed by the 
 main line of the New-Brunswick Railway, running south to Passama- 
 quoddy Bay, and north to the upper Aroostook and Madawaska region. 
 The main route continues down through New Brunswick for eighty- 
 five miles, by the well-known fishing-grounds of Magaguadavic and 
 Oromocto, to the provincial metropolis of St. John, whence access is 
 easy to all parts of Nova Scotia and the remoter east. The line from 
 Bangor to St. John was opened in 1872, amid international rejoicings, 
 since which, amid many vicissitudes, it has slowly advanced in value 
 and productiveness, and has received improved equipments and advan- 
 tages. There is now a continuous all-rail line, of about four hundred 
 and fifty miles, from Boston to St. John, without ferry or transfer, and 
 working harmoniously with combined interests. When the new bridge 
 at St. John is finished there will be an unbroken route clear through to 
 Halifax ; and the Canadian Pacific Railway is rapidly closing the gap 
 in its Montreal-Halifax route, crossing Maine from Sherbrooke and 
 Lake Megantic, by Moosehead Lake, to Lincoln on the Maine Central, 
 and thence following the consolidated line around to the sea. 
 
 St. John, the handsome little Tory city, which, in October, 1883, 
 celebrates the hundredth anniversary of its foundation by self-exiled 
 American Loyalists, has long been a favorite objective point for sum- 
 mer-travellers, who find much to interest them in its bright and busy 
 streets and beautiful environs. From thence daily steamers ascend the 
 St. John River — which the provincials liken to the Rhine or the Hudson 
 — to Fredericton, a charming little cathedral-town, and the capital of 
 
Aroostook and Madawaska. 143 
 
 New Brunswick. Others cross the Bay of Fundy to Digby and Annapo- 
 Hs Royal, and visit the land of Evangeline, around the Basin of Minas, 
 whence a short railway line leads down to Halifax, or around to the 
 Gut of Canso, connecting there with steamboats which traverse the 
 beautiful Bras d'Or Lakes, in Cape Breton. The Intercolonial Railway 
 runs eastward from St. John to Moncton, whence its main line crosses 
 hundreds of miles of picturesque and thinly settled country, by the 
 Bay of Chaleur and the Lower St. Lawrence towns, to Quebec; while 
 branch lines lead to Shediac and the Prince-Edward-Island steamers, to 
 Pictou, and to Parrsboro', on the Basin of Minas. At the end of this 
 route is smoky old Halifax, the last and strongest fortress of the British 
 Empire in North America, with its huge hill-citadel, its bevy of Her 
 Majesty's iron-clads, its regiments of red-coats, and all the singular 
 sights and sounds of a royal garrison-town. Here one may take 
 steamer for Prince Edward Island, the Magdalen Islands, St. Pierre, 
 Newfoundland, or Liverpool; or for the sequestered ports and magnifi- 
 cent scenery on the contiguous coasts of Nova Scotia and Cape Breton. 
 
 AROOSTOOK AND MADAWASKA. 
 
 The New-Brunswick Railway, running north from Vanceboro' and 
 McAdam Junction, traverses a marvellously dreary region for nearly 
 fifty miles, to Debec Junction, whence a branch eight miles long leads 
 across the American border to Houlton, the capital of the famous 
 Aroostook country. This is a brisk little town, of 3,000 inhabitants, 
 with half-a-dozen churches, two newspapers, a famous academy, and 
 several prosperous little factories. It was founded in 1807, and had a 
 garrison of United-States troops from 1830 until the outbreak of the 
 Mexican War. The dilapidated old barracks and their parade-ground 
 are still preserved, near the railway station. 
 
 Houlton is a great centre for stage-routes, which run thence to 
 all the border towns, — Orient and Topsfield, Lineus and Molunkus, 
 Smyrna and Patten, Presque Isle and Fort Fairfield. 
 
144 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 Eastward from Debec the railway enters the rich and beautiful 
 valley of the St. John, at Woodstock, and ascends for many leagues 
 through a very interesting country, by Muniac, Tobique, and the 
 noble scenery of Grand Falls, close along the border, to Edmundston, 
 at present the terminus. This is a quaint little hamlet of Acadian 
 farmers, with two hotels and two churches. Twenty-five miles to the 
 northward, on the Royal Mail route to Riviere du Loup, on the St. 
 Lawrence River, is Temiscouata Lake, thirty miles long, where white- 
 fish may be caught, and large gray trout, or tuladi, and burbot, or eel- 
 pouts. Across the river from Edmundston is the large French- Ameri- 
 can village of Madawaska, whence stages run ten miles up the valley to 
 Dionne, or Frenchville, whence it is five miles to Lake Cleveland, the 
 uppermost of the Eagle Lakes. For seventy-five miles or more, from 
 St. Francis to Grand Falls, the St, John flows through a rich rural 
 country, prolific in oats, buckwheat, and potatoes, studded with little 
 hamlets grouped around tall Roman Catholic churches, and bordered 
 by hundreds of long and narrow farms. It is all one people, partly in 
 Canada and partly within the American lines, but oblivious of modern 
 boundaries in their ancient unity of race. They are the descendants 
 of the Acadian peasantry who were driven from about the Bay of 
 Fundy in 1755, and fled far into the trackless northern solitudes, where 
 they found rest and peace. There are now not far from ten thousand 
 of these happy and industrious Latin farmers, a frugal and contented 
 race, perpetuating the customs and traditions of the era of Louis 
 Quatorze, and having in their parishes many a good Father Felicien, 
 many a stalwart Basil, many a fair Evangeline. 
 
 Stages run up the St. John for fifteen miles to the far-away French- 
 American hamlet of St. Francis; and an equal distance to the south- 
 ward are the infant settlements on Eagle Lake, the lowest of the great 
 chain of Eagle Lakes, extending thence in a long line toward the 
 north-east. 
 
 It is about two hundred and twenty miles from Greenville, at the 
 head of Moosehead Lake, to Edmundston, through the lakes and rivers 
 of Northern Maine. The distance across Moosehead, and out to Moose- 
 horn, IS about forty-eight miles ; and it is twenty miles thence, down the 
 West Branch of the Penobscot, across the head of Chesuncook Lake, 
 
Aroostook and Madawaska. 145 
 
 and up the Umbazooksus Stream, to Umbazooksus Lake. A very- 
 arduous carry of two miles goes from thence into Mud Pond, whose 
 outlet is followed down to Chamberlain Lake. A road leads across 
 from Chesuncook to Chamberlain. There is a farm here where sup- 
 plies may be obtained ; and a dam at the natural foot of the lake compels 
 its waters, and the inflowing upper Allagash, and all the logs that therein 
 float, to seek an unnatural channel, flowing southward into the East 
 Branch of the Penobscot, instead of (as for centuries) northward into 
 the St. John River, and out through Canadian waters. After traversing 
 the gloomy miles of Chamberlain Lake the boatman goes around the 
 dam and descends to the broad and picturesque waters of Eagle Lake, 
 which are followed for a dozen miles or more. A line of narrows con- 
 nects Eagle with Churchill Lake, six miles long, with several pretty 
 islands. After a carry of about a mile, around the Devil's Elbow, the 
 voyager descends the pretty Allagash River for eight miles to Um- 
 saskis Lake, which opens into Long Lake, the two giving a free water- 
 way of sixteen miles. Thirty miles more of navigable Allagash, includ- 
 ing also its bulge of Square Lake, and the boat comes to the Allagash 
 Falls, which must be carried around. Twelve more miles of smooth 
 water and the Allagash enters the St. John, fifty-two miles above 
 Madawaska. 
 
 The famous and interesting Aroostook country is reached by a 
 branch line, thirty-four miles long, which leaves the New-Brunswick 
 Railway at Aroostook station, and ascends the Aroostook valley through 
 pleasant and picturesque scenery. This valuable country, rich in agri- 
 cultural capabilities, will soon be reached by an extension of the Maine 
 Central line leading through American territory. The present route 
 bends around the multiplied curves and graceful windings of the Aroos- 
 took River, with a pretty view of the Aroostook Falls ; and at four 
 miles from the junction it crosses the international frontier. Fort Fair- 
 field is a bright and enterprising town, with good hotels and hospitable 
 society, and a large country trade, supplying many townships along the 
 border. In one respect, at least, this is preeminent among American 
 towns, for more potatoes are shipped thence than from any other place 
 in the United States. On the hill over the railway station are the ruins 
 of the escarpment and barracks which pertained to old Fort Fairfield, a 
 
1 46 Summer Days Down East. 
 
 stronghold dating from the days of the bloodless Aroostook War, and 
 commanding the wide and peaceful valley for many miles. 
 
 A few miles beyond the train reaches Caribou, a brisk town of 
 pioneers, emulating the prospective cities of Dakota in its earnestness 
 and ambition, and like them provided with a spacious modern hotel, 
 conspicuously placed in full view of the travelling world. Not far from 
 Caribou, towards the Eagle Lakes, is New Sweden, the chief settlement 
 of the Scandinavian immigrants who have entered Maine in such num- 
 bers during the last few years. Continual accessions are made to this 
 colony of Norsemen, and several detachments direct from the old 
 country passed through Caribou in 1882. The new-comers make 
 good citizens, and the Swedish hamlets of Northern Aroostook, extend- 
 ing up to the extensive district inhabited by the Acadian French, will 
 soon be known as a very interesting feature in New-England travel. 
 These fair-haired northern farmers are at once temperate, practical, and 
 industrious ; and so, by their persistent and steady labor, even though 
 conducted in the ancient and obsolete Swedish fashion, they are 
 patiently subjugating the forest, and preparing a rural region which will 
 blossom as the rose. 
 
 The railway has recently been extended up the Aroostook Valley, 
 to the southward, for fifteen miles, and terminates at the thriving 
 Yankee town of Presque Isle, — second only to Houlton among the free 
 cities of Aroostook, and hopeful of attaining the dignity of capital of a 
 new northern county. There are upwai'ds of 2,000 inhabitants here, 
 with four churches, an academy, and a newspaper entitled The Presque 
 Isle Sunrise. The old United-States military road runs thence north- 
 ward to the Madawaska region, and southward to Houlton (forty-two 
 miles distant) and the valley of the Penobscot. Presque Isle is a rich 
 town, for a rural one, and is famous for the great value of its farms. 
 
 This great Aroostook country is the only part of rural New Eng- 
 land into which immigration is now pouring, and the remarkable crops 
 of grain and potatoes raised on its rich alluvial limestone soil promise 
 the support of a dense and prosperous population, fifty years hence, 
 when many populous villages and towns shall rise on these arable plains. 
 It seems destined to be the great cattle and sheep-raising district of 
 New England, and in this respect alone its continued prosperity is 
 
Passamaquoddy Bay. 147 
 
 assured. Millions of shingles are sent down the country every season, 
 and the railway cars groan under their burdens of " shingle-rift." But 
 the chief product of the Aroostook country is potatoes, which at cer- 
 tain seasons form the exclusive subject of conversation in hotels, cars, 
 and stores. Large Boston houses send buyers throughout this region 
 when the crops come in, who accumulate the products of the farms in 
 their store-houses near the railway stations. Millions upon millions of 
 bushels are sent away yearly, and the returning money of the merchants 
 makes it possible to add many luxuries to the Spartan pioneer house- 
 holds. Nearly all the small potatoes are ground into starch, of which 
 from four to five thousand tons are shipped hence every year. The 
 product per acre sometimes reaches five hundred bushels of potatoes. 
 Many an enterprising young farmer has entered the Aroostook woods, 
 built him a rude log-house, cut down the dense forest around, planted 
 the virgin soil, and, in a few years, with courage and hard work, 
 won for himself a handsome and productivee state, unencumbered and 
 independent. 
 
 PASSAMAQUODDY BAY. 
 
 Passamaquoddy Bay, separating the south-eastern corner of Maine 
 and the United States from the Province of New Brunswick, is a 
 lovely archipelago, opening from the Bay of Fundy, and traversed by 
 immense fleets of fishing and coasting vessels, as well as by the Inter- 
 national steamships, and smaller steamers connecting Eastport with 
 Grand Manan, Campobello, St. Andrews, and Calais. This region is 
 reached from Boston by railway, through Portland and Bangor, to Mc- 
 Adam Junction, whence the New-Brunswick Railway runs down through 
 the provincial county of Charlotte, to St. Stephen and St. Andrews 
 (forty-three miles). The romantic Passamaquoddy region was ex- 
 plored by the ship Mary of Gtiilford in 1527; and in 1603 DeMonts 
 established a settlement on St. Croix Island, with batteries, barracks for 
 
14^ Summer Days Down East. 
 
 the Swiss soldiery, and a chapel ; but the first winter finished this 
 untimely enterprise, and one-half of the colonists were buried on the 
 island. Several other French settlements near these waters failed 
 miserably; and about the middle of the last century the New-Eng- 
 landers moved in, to stay. At the head of navigation on the St. 
 Croix River, on opposite sides of the stream, stand the brisk towns of 
 Calais and St. Stephen, — one American and the other Canadian, and 
 always very happy neighbors, even when war exists between their 
 respective nations. Calais is a city of above 6,000 inhabitants, with 
 good hotels, two newspapers, several churches, and a large and lucra- 
 tive lumber business. This pretty little city was the birthplace of 
 Harriett Prescott Spofford, the novelist. St. Stephen is another 
 lumber-town, with 5,000 inhabitants, and a good quota of provincial 
 institutions. 
 
 A railway runs north-west, twenty miles from Calais, into the 
 unnamed wilderness-townships up the St. Croix valley, by the 
 prosperous international lumber village of Milltown, and in to the 
 village of Princeton, at the foot of Big Lake. From this point the 
 famous Schoodic Lakes stretch north-westward for thirty miles, joined 
 by navigable straits. A small steamboat runs up the lower lake 
 to Grand-Lake Stream, the outlet of Grand Lake, and the home 
 of countless salmon-trout. Grand Lake is a very beautiful sheet 
 of water, girded by dark forests of pine and hard-wood, dotted with 
 wooded islets, and floored with vast granite boulders. Here are found 
 perch, pickerel, trout, lake-trout, and the rare and delicious landlocked 
 salmon, with bears and deer in the adjacent woods. On the lower lake 
 there is a large village of Passamaquoddy Lidians, whose young men 
 make capital guides for parties entering this remote wilderness. Some 
 account of this labyrinth of lakes may be found in Scott's " Fishing in 
 American Waters " ; but they are as yet scarcely known to our fishermen, 
 who find at Rangeley finer mountain scenery and better accommo- 
 dations, but not better sport. Far westward to the Penobscot water- 
 shed extend these silent lakes, guarded by the virgin forests, and 
 inhabited by myriads of aldermanic and unsophisticated fish, who are' 
 left here to die of old age. 
 
 St. Andrews, at the lower end of the forked railroad running south 
 
Passamaqiwddy Bay. 149 
 
 from McAdam Junction, stands on a pleasant peninsula projecting far 
 into Passamaquoddy Bay, at the mouth of the St. Croix, and is a 
 quaint and quiet old provincial village, bordered on one side by rich 
 ■farm-lands and on the other by decaying wharves. The great fleets 
 which once loaded here for the British and West-Indian trade have 
 departed forever, and the dilapidated little town is left with only its 
 petty dignities as a county capital, and quiet and conservative claims 
 as a summer resort. Some 3'-ears ago a handsome summer-hotel, the 
 Argyll House, v^^as built near the bay, over which it gives a very noble 
 view. Visitors to St. Andrews need not lack for amusement, for they 
 can sail up and down through the beautiful archipelago near by; or 
 visit the glacier-cut crest of Chamcook Mountain, overlooking both 
 bay and river ; or sail across to the great Indian village at Pleasant 
 Point; or voyage up the lovely St. Croix to Calais and St. Stephen, 
 and down the bay to Eastport. 
 
 Eastport stands on Moose Island, in Passamaquoddy Bay, and 
 has about 3, coo inhabitants, most of whom are connected with the 
 fisheries and the sardine factories. It is prettily placed on the slope of 
 a high hill, from which an abandoned fort looks down on the harbor, and 
 silently protects the sardine factories of the little town ("sardines," in 
 this case, is an euphemism for small herrings, packed in sardine boxes). 
 The ancient history of this Passamaquoddy region has many episodes 
 of great interest, and merits careful study. The earliest French colonies 
 here and around the bay were swept off by Massachusetts armaments, 
 and Eastport was founded by Essex- County fishermen, in 1784. In 
 1 81 3 the British frigate Martin bombarded the little town, but was 
 driven off by the guns of the fort; and a year later, the Ramilies, 74, 
 and a powerful fleet took the place, which remained under British 
 martial law for four )'ears. Of late years many summer-travellers and 
 hay-fever fugitives have sought out Eastport, finding comfortable accom- 
 modations at the Passamaquoddy House, and enjoying marine excur- 
 sions among the adjacent islands. The village is reached by a pleasant 
 steamboat route down the river from Calais and St. Andrews. 
 
 Opposite Eastport is the Canadian island of Campobello, eight 
 miles long, and occupied by several villages of fislvcrmen, nestling among 
 the coves at the foot of far-viewing hills. Of late years this has become 
 
150 Suhimer Days Down East. 
 
 a fashionable summer-resort, patronized by the elite of Boston, and 
 adorned with two great hotels, the Owen and the Tyn-y-Coedd. Large 
 tracts of land on the seaward-facing bluffs have been laid out for summer- 
 cottages, and it seems as if this rugged provincial island might become 
 a sort of far-eastern Nahant. The scenery is grand, and the cool breezes 
 of the bays — Passamaquoddy and Fundy — make the air delightful, 
 and fill it with rare tonic and bracing properties. 
 
 Grand Manan, " the paradise of cliffs," is a lofty island, at the 
 mouth of Passamaquoddy Bay, twenty-two miles long, and seven 
 miles from the Maine coast, from which its amazing precipices are seen, 
 like a long purple wall, looming over the sea. It is connected with the 
 ports on the bay by a small steamboat, which carries out large freight- 
 age of artists and enthusiasts for grand scenery. There are upwards of 
 2,500 inhabitants here, honest, earnest, religious, and intelligent 
 folk, expert in the fisheries, and mainly descended from exiled 
 Massachusetts Loyalists. The powerful tides of the Bay of Fundy 
 rush impetuously by its lofty and highly colored cliffs and picturesque 
 rocky bastions, and many a fatal wreck has been thrown against the 
 iron-bound coast. There are several quaint maritime hamlets along the 
 shores, and good roads traverse the breezy uplands, from Grand Har- 
 bor down to the metropolis of gulls at South-west Plead. Noble calls 
 this island "the very throne of the bold and romantic," and many 
 adorers of these attributes, coming from the cities of New England and 
 New York, have found here the fruition of their hopes. There are 
 several boarding-house ^, where simple fare and kindly care are given, 
 at old-time prices. 
 
Principal Hotels. 
 
 151 
 
 PRINCIPAL HOTELS AND BOARDING HOUSES ON LINE OF 
 CENTRAL RAILROAD AND CONNECTIONS. 
 
 MAINE 
 
 Station. 
 
 Name of 
 
 Names of 
 
 Post-Office 
 
 Ui 
 
 Convey- 
 
 Price 
 
 per 
 
 Houses. 
 
 Proprietors. 
 
 Address. 
 
 Q^55 
 
 ance. 
 
 Daj 
 
 
 
 
 - 
 
 
 JMiles- 
 
 
 
 
 •Portland 
 
 Falmoutli 
 
 y. K. Martin 
 
 Portland .. 
 
 
 ILick 
 
 $2 50 to 
 
 $Voo 
 
 " 
 
 Preble House . . 
 
 M. S. Gibson 
 
 '• 
 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 to 
 
 2.50 
 
 " 
 
 United States . 
 
 W. IL McDonald.. 
 
 " 
 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 to 
 
 2.50 
 
 " 
 
 City Hotel 
 
 J.W.Robinson ... 
 
 " 
 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 " 
 
 Merchants' E.-:. 
 
 Geo. Waterhouse . . 
 
 << 
 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 • Varmouth .... 
 
 Baker House . . 
 
 D.S. Moody 
 
 Yarmouth . 
 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 
 
 *t<rceport 
 
 Gushing House 
 Bcarding^ 
 
 S. E. Cushing 
 
 Mrs. S. H. DiUing- 
 
 Freeport . . 
 
 4 
 
 
 
 
 
 Tontine House 
 
 
 Brunswicli. 
 
 \ 
 
 Hack 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 ♦Brunswick. . . . 
 
 S. B. Brewster .... 
 
 
 .... 
 
 Union House . . 
 
 Jas. Jewell 
 
 E. Harps- 
 well 
 
 12 
 
 Stage 
 
 
 
 
 Merriconeag . . 
 
 A. E. Pinkham .... 
 
 So. Harps- 
 well 
 
 14 
 
 <, 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 1 1;irdinu:s 
 
 Adams House . 
 
 J. J. Conant 
 
 Hardings . 
 
 I 
 
 " 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 -Bath 
 
 Sagadahoc .... 
 
 J. M.Taylor 
 
 jcre Shannon 
 
 "C. M. Plummer.... 
 Perkins & Stacy . . . 
 
 Bath 
 
 near 
 
 I Lack 
 
 2.00 to 
 
 3.00 
 
 ii 
 
 Bath 
 
 Hun ne- 
 wel I's Point 
 
 " 
 
 " 
 
 1. 00 
 
 
 <i 
 
 
 
 
 
 12 
 
 Ste'mer 
 
 1 .50 to 
 
 2.00 
 
 " 
 
 Allaquip|)a ... 
 
 C.O.Lowell 
 
 Small Point 
 
 12 
 
 " 
 
 1. 00 
 
 
 (< 
 
 Sidney House. . 
 Samoset House 
 
 John Sidney 
 
 R. W. Haines 
 
 Capitol Is'd 
 Mouse Is'd 
 
 IS 
 IS 
 
 (( 
 
 
 
 '^ '.., 
 
 .< 
 
 1. 00 to 
 
 2. so 
 
 (t 
 
 
 Mrs. Noble 
 
 I.E. Knight 
 
 Squirrel Is'd 
 Boothbay . . 
 
 
 (( 
 
 
 
 " 
 
 Boothlxiv 
 
 iS 
 
 '< 
 
 1. 00 to 
 
 2.00 
 
 (( 
 
 Weymouth . . . 
 Lincoln House. 
 
 L. & M. Weymouth 
 J. L. Robinson .... 
 
 (( 
 
 IS 
 
 near 
 
 <t 
 
 
 
 •Richmond 
 
 Richmond . 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 " .... 
 
 Mitchell House 
 
 W. L. Mitchell .... 
 
 " 
 
 '• 
 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 " .... 
 
 Richmond . 
 
 \\. Springer 
 
 < 
 
 " 
 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 "Gardiner . 
 
 Evans House .. 
 Johnson House 
 
 0. C. Rollins 
 
 Benj. Johnson 
 
 Gardiner .. 
 
 " 
 
 Hack 
 
 2.00 
 2.00 
 
 
 " 
 
 Boarding 
 
 Wm. G. Heseltine. 
 
 Pittfton ... 
 
 < 
 
 " 
 
 
 
 -Hallowell .... 
 
 Hallowell 
 
 H. Q^ Blake 
 
 Hallowell.. 
 
 near 
 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 "Augusta 
 
 .Augusta House 
 
 E. & A. C. Manson 
 
 Augusta . . 
 
 
 " 
 
 3.50 
 
 
 " 
 
 Conv House . . . 
 
 G. A. & H. Cony .. 
 
 " 
 
 2 rds. 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 " 
 
 Hotel North. .. 
 
 W. S. Baker 
 
 " 
 
 3 ids. 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 " 
 
 Central House . 
 
 A. H. Brick 
 
 " 
 
 
 II 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 "Vassalboro'. . . 
 
 Revere House . 
 
 A. M. Bradley & 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 E. Vassal- 
 boro' 
 
 4 
 
 Stage 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 
 
 
 •Waterville .... 
 
 Elmwood 
 
 Jas. E. Osborne... . 
 
 Waterville . 
 
 
 Hack 
 
 2.50 
 
 
 " 
 
 Smith House .. 
 
 A. 0. Bmith 
 
 " 
 
 1 
 
 " 
 
 2.O0 
 
 
 'Clintnn 
 
 Clinton House 
 
 C. C. Brown 
 
 Clinton .... 
 
 \ 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 I. GO 
 
 
 " 
 
 Village House 
 
 A. F. Worthing ... 
 
 " 
 
 
 
 1. 00 
 
 
 *Burnham 
 
 Railroad House 
 
 John P. Brown .... 
 
 Burnham .. 
 
 i5rds. 
 
 " 
 
 1. 00 
 
 
 " 
 
 Burnham .... 
 
 John E. Hart 
 
 " 
 
 20 " 
 
 " 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 " 
 
 \\ innecook 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Lake House . 
 
 Wm. Weed 
 
 " 
 
 5 
 
 " 
 
 1.00 
 
 
 " 
 
 Dodge House. . 
 
 Bradford Dodge ... 
 
 " 
 
 
 " 
 
 
 
 ' Un i ty 
 
 Central 1 louse . 
 
 E. F. Whitehouse. . 
 
 Unity 
 
 1 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 'Tliorndilje .... 
 
 Dixmont House 
 
 A. B. Porter 
 
 Freedom... 
 
 4 
 
 Stage 
 
 I -SO 
 
 
 "Brooks 
 
 Rose House . . 
 Travelers Home 
 
 L. & A. H. Rose... 
 Daniel Jones 
 
 Brooks .... 
 
 near 
 
 
 •75 
 
 
 " 
 
 Monroe Home . 
 
 Ellen Mayo 
 
 Monroe .... 
 
 "• 
 
 " 
 
 
 
 ^Belfast 
 
 New Enghmd . 
 
 American 
 
 I'hcenix House. 
 
 C. H. Crosby 
 
 H. N. Lancaster ... 
 |. C. Robbins 
 
 Belfast 
 
 near 
 
 H^ck 
 
 2.00 
 
 2. CO 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 
 Waverly House 
 
 H. W. Chase 
 
 Northiiort . 
 
 3i 
 
 Stage 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 Price 
 
 per 
 
 Week. 
 
 $15.00 to 
 
 $30.00 
 
 lo.co to 
 
 30.00 
 
 13.00 to 
 
 2S.00 
 
 lo.co to 
 
 14.00 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 14.00 
 
 4.00 
 
 
 3.00 to 
 
 S.oo 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 S.oo 
 
 
 12.00 to 
 
 20.00 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 14.00 
 
 5.00 to 
 
 7.00 
 
 6.00 to 
 
 9.00 
 
 5.00 
 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 15.00 
 
 S-oo to 
 
 12.00 
 
 5.00 to 
 
 12.00 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 S-oo 
 
 
 6.00 
 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 20.00 
 
 5.00 and up'dsl 
 
 6.00 
 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 15.00 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 15.00 
 
 S.oo to 
 
 12.00 
 
 6.00 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 iS.oo 
 
 5 00 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 3-So 
 
 
 3-50 
 
 
 4.00 
 
 
 3-SO 
 
 
 4.00 
 
 
 3-So 
 
 
 lO.OO 
 
 
 3.00 
 
 
 3.00 
 
 
 3.00 
 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 12.00 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 12.00 
 
 lO.CO 
 
 1 
 
 300 
 
 25c 
 
 200 
 
 IS" 
 100 
 
 SO 
 
 ISO 
 SO 
 75 
 
 so 
 SO 
 ISO 
 75 
 SO 
 SO 
 25 
 
 100 
 
 75 
 12 
 
 50 
 ISO 
 75 
 75 
 50 
 
 5° 
 100 
 
 75 
 
 5^^ 
 SO 
 »t>o 
 
 ♦Telegraph Offices. 
 
I=i2 
 
 Siiiniuey Days Down East. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 « -1 
 
 
 
 
 
 >■ 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Station. 
 
 Name of 
 
 Names of 
 
 Post-Office 
 
 = sj 
 
 Convey- 
 
 Price per 
 
 Price 
 
 per 
 
 ■■J 
 
 Houses. 
 
 Proprietors. 
 
 Address. 
 
 ".^~. 
 
 ance. 
 
 Day. 
 
 Week. 
 
 c 
 
 
 
 
 
 Q t/. 
 
 
 
 
 
 u 
 
 
 
 
 
 Miics. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 ♦Belfast 
 
 Cleaves House . 
 
 F. W. Nichols 
 
 Stockton . . . 
 
 10 
 
 Stage 
 
 $1.50 
 
 $12.00 to $1500 
 
 3^ 
 
 " 
 
 Scarsport 
 
 W. Grinnell 
 
 Searsport . . 
 
 6 
 
 
 i.OO 
 
 
 
 
 ♦Pittsfield 
 
 Lancey House . 
 
 1. 11. Lancey 
 
 Pittsfield .. 
 
 near 
 
 
 3.CO 
 
 10.00 
 
 
 so 
 
 «' 
 
 H«rtlandHouse Ira \V. Pa<;e 
 
 Hartland .. 
 
 7 
 
 '1 
 
 2.CO 
 
 lo.rx) 
 
 
 2S 
 
 " 
 
 Park House.... 
 
 R. L. Williams... 
 
 
 
 " 
 
 J. SO 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 2S 
 
 •Detroir 
 
 Boarding 
 
 Geo. Verriil 
 
 Detroit . . 
 
 i 
 
 
 •75 
 
 35° 
 
 
 10 
 
 ♦Newport 
 
 Shaw House 
 
 Chas. Sawyer 
 
 Newport. . 
 
 near 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 2.00 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 so 
 
 *Corinna 
 
 Coiinna House 
 
 A. L. Grant 
 
 Corinna 
 
 '1 
 
 
 
 
 
 IS 
 
 ♦Dexter 
 
 .VIercliaiits' Ex. 
 
 W. W. Morrill 
 
 Dexter 
 
 J 
 
 Hack 
 
 2.CX> 
 
 7.00 to 
 
 12.00 
 
 so 
 
 " 
 
 Uexter House.. 
 
 Spooner & Brady .. 
 
 " 
 
 ^ 
 
 " 
 
 1. 00 
 
 SOD 
 
 
 30 
 
 East Newport.. 
 
 Plymouth 
 
 E.J. Prescott 
 
 !. F.Gray 
 
 Plviiionth .. 
 
 4 
 
 Stige 
 
 l.OO 
 
 4.00 
 
 
 2J 
 
 " 
 
 Wayside 
 
 Dixmont .. 
 
 lO 
 
 " 
 
 1. 00 
 
 4.00 
 
 
 20 
 
 *Bangor 
 
 B.insor House . 
 
 F. O. Bcal 
 
 Bangor 
 
 f 
 
 Hack 
 
 2.00 to $3.^0 
 
 
 
 250 
 
 •' 
 
 Penobscot Ex. 
 
 I. E. Harriman 
 
 " .... 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 to 3 50 
 
 
 
 SCO 
 
 
 .\merican 
 
 Chase & Thayer . . 
 
 " .... 
 
 
 " 
 
 200 
 
 
 
 us 
 
 " 
 
 Bansfor Exch. . 
 
 A. S. Thaver 
 
 " .... 
 
 J 
 
 •1 
 
 2.00 
 
 
 
 2S 
 
 " 
 
 Marlborough . . 
 
 Chas. Iliggins 
 
 ♦BarHarbor 
 
 46 
 
 Ste'incr 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 or stage 
 
 2.50 
 
 ia.50 to 
 
 1S.00 
 
 100 
 
 " 
 
 Rockaway 
 
 Tobias Roberts .... 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.50 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 20.00 
 
 ICO 
 
 
 Hotel Hamilton 
 
 Geo. W. Hamilton. 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 14.00 to 
 
 iS.oo 
 
 ?p 
 
 << 
 
 Hotel St. Saveur 
 
 F.J. Alley 
 
 *» 
 
 46 
 46 
 
 *i 
 
 ^.OO 
 
 10.50 to 
 II .00 to 
 
 31.00 
 
 '75 
 
 " 
 
 Lynani House . 
 
 I no. .'^ Lvnam 
 
 <' 
 
 1' 
 
 2.00 to 2.50 
 
 15.00 
 
 100 
 
 " 
 
 Belmont House 
 
 Jr.o. C. Manchester 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 11 
 
 3.35 
 
 12.00 to 
 
 14.r0 
 
 7S 
 
 •' 
 
 Hirch Tree Inn. 
 
 I.Andrew Rodick.. 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 1 3. CO 
 
 40 
 
 <• 
 
 Atlantic House 
 
 Jno. H. Douglas .. . 
 
 •' 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 10.50 to 
 
 17.00 
 
 >2S 
 
 *' 
 
 .Newport House 
 
 Wm. M. Roberts .. 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.50 
 
 14.00 to 
 
 1S.00 
 
 ISO 
 
 " 
 
 Grand Central . 
 
 R. Hamor&Sons .. 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 to 3.00 
 
 13.00 to 
 
 15.00 
 
 4CO 
 
 " 
 
 Rodick House. 
 
 F. &S H. Rodick. 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 to 3.00 
 
 i3.nc to 
 
 16.00 
 
 700 
 
 u 
 
 Hotel Dcs Isle. 
 
 E.G. Dcs Isle 
 
 •' 
 
 46 
 
 '1 
 
 2.53 
 
 14.00 to 
 
 21.0C 
 
 120 
 
 u 
 
 Malvern House 
 
 D. G. Fox 
 
 11 
 
 46 
 46 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 
 so 
 
 »i 
 
 West End 
 
 O. M. Shaw & Son. 
 
 '1 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 
 200 
 
 " 
 
 Kebo House ... 
 
 .\ndriw J. Mills ... 
 
 • 1 
 
 ■t^ 
 
 •' 
 
 2.00 
 
 9.00 to 
 
 13.00 
 
 40 
 
 " 
 
 Wayside House 
 
 .Mrs. R. G. Higgins 
 
 11 
 
 46 
 
 •1 
 
 1.50 
 
 6.CO to 
 
 10.00 
 
 20 
 
 " 
 
 Ocean House .. 
 
 Sam'l Higgins 
 
 " 
 
 46 
 
 
 2.00 
 
 7.0c to 
 
 15.00 
 
 2l 
 
 " 
 
 Parker House.. 
 
 E.C. Parker 
 
 11 
 
 46 
 
 I' 
 
 2.00 
 
 S.ooto 
 
 13.00 
 
 20 
 
 " 
 
 Freeman House 
 
 J. A. Freeman 
 
 *So. West 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Harbor .. 
 
 47 
 
 " 
 
 3.00 
 
 9.C0 to 
 
 12.0:; 
 
 so 
 
 " 
 
 Island House.. 
 
 H. H.Clark 
 
 11 
 
 47 
 
 11 
 
 2.00 
 
 7. CO to 
 
 13.CC 
 
 Oo 
 
 " 
 
 Hotel Dirigo... 
 
 C. M.Holden 
 
 1' 
 
 47 
 
 •1 
 
 2.00 
 
 7.CC to 
 
 13.00 
 
 30 
 
 " 
 
 Ocean House .. 
 
 X. Teague, Jr 
 
 •< 
 
 47 
 
 '1 
 
 2.00 
 
 (■'.OC to 
 
 I3.CO 
 
 so 
 
 t( 
 
 Stanley House. 
 Pemetic House. 
 
 S. Stanley 
 
 " 
 
 47 
 
 47 
 
 „ 
 
 2.00 
 
 7.00 to 
 7.00 to 
 
 9.00 
 
 \xxia 
 
 25 
 
 ^0 
 
 " 
 
 H. H.Clark 
 
 " 
 
 Harbor House. 
 
 .\. H. Haynes 
 
 <i 
 
 47 
 
 11 
 
 1.50 
 
 6.00 to 
 
 10.50 
 
 >5 
 
 ** 
 
 Sea Wall House 
 
 S. Moonev 
 
 11 
 
 47 
 40 
 
 it 
 
 
 
 
 2S 
 
 " 
 
 Mt. Desert 
 
 C:has. P. Somers... 
 
 Mt. Desert. 
 
 • 1 
 
 2.CO 
 
 6.C0 to 
 
 10.00 
 
 «s 
 
 " 
 
 Central House. 
 
 Wm. Fcnneley 
 
 •• 
 
 40 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 6.00 to 
 
 IOJX> 
 
 23 
 
 " 
 
 Sea Shore 
 
 (. Clement it Son .. 
 
 Long Pond. 
 
 52 
 
 " 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 
 
 •' 
 
 Boarding 
 
 C. H. Clement 
 
 11 
 
 52 
 
 '• 
 
 l.JO 
 
 
 
 
 '• 
 
 Kimball House 
 
 D. Kimball 
 
 «• 
 
 52 
 
 •1 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 i( 
 
 
 
 Sullivan ... 
 S. Hancock 
 Veazie 
 
 3S 
 
 t( 
 
 
 
 
 75 
 '5 
 
 1, 
 
 McFarland 
 
 
 „ 
 
 
 9.00 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 •Veazie 
 
 Everett House. 
 
 A. B. Waters 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 1.50 
 
 
 *Oroiio 
 
 Orono House .. 
 
 W. F Lunt 
 
 Orono 
 
 \ 
 
 i« 
 
 >-5^ 
 
 5. CO 
 
 
 2S 
 
 •0);ltown 
 
 Codman House 
 
 J. M. Robinson 
 
 Oldtown . . . 
 
 \ 
 
 • 1 
 
 2.0c 
 
 6.00 to 
 
 S.oo 
 
 .S3 
 
 " 
 
 Cousins House. 
 
 E. Cousins 
 
 " 
 
 \ 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 6.00 to 
 
 S.CO 
 
 50 
 
 •Blanchard .... 
 
 *Kineo House . 
 
 O. A. Dcnnen 
 
 Greenville . 
 
 i 20 < 
 
 13 
 
 Stage 
 
 
 
 
 75 
 
 
 Lake House ... 
 
 LittleSelcl & Sawyer 
 
 11 
 
 Stage 
 
 
 
 
 75 
 
 
 Evelcth House. 
 
 A. 11. Walker 
 
 11 
 
 13 
 
 I' 
 
 
 
 
 ST 
 
 
 Outlet Houso.. 
 
 H.J. Wilson 
 
 1' 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 
 U innegarnock. 
 
 .Simecn Savage 
 
 • 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 20 
 
 
 Duer Island 
 
 Uoach River... 
 Wilson Pond .. 
 
 
 ';'' : 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 15 
 
 
 
 15 
 
 
 A. H. Walker 
 
 21 
 
 
 Shirley House.. 
 Lake Hebron . . 
 
 H. KnowlfS 
 
 Shirley 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 3C 
 
 Monson Village 
 
 Lake Hebron Hotel 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Co 
 
 Monson Vil. 
 
 5 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 
 
 
 5c 
 
 
 
 
 •Telegraph Offices. 
 
Principal Hotels. 
 
 153 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 v 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Station. 
 
 Name of 
 Houses. 
 
 Names of 
 Proprietors. 
 
 Post-Office 
 Address. 
 
 Sp-5 
 
 Convey- 
 ance. 
 
 Price per 
 Day. 
 
 Price per 
 Week. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 c/: 
 
 
 
 
 
 U 
 
 
 
 
 
 Miles. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 *AbbotVillas;e. 
 
 Abbott Village. 
 
 D. H.Buxton 
 
 Abliot Vil. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 2 
 
 *Guillord 
 
 *Dover 
 
 Turner House . 
 Bletlien House. 
 
 
 Giiiliord . . . 
 Dover 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 „ 
 
 \Vm. Blethen 
 
 near 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 
 
 
 5' 
 
 " 
 
 Foxcrolt Ex.... 
 
 John Wood 
 
 Foxcroft . . 
 
 " 
 
 •' 
 
 
 
 
 4' 
 
 Katahdin Iron 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Works 
 
 Silver Lake 
 
 0. W. Davis 
 
 K. L Works 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 <=f. 
 
 Brownville 
 
 Rrownville 
 
 N. Herrick 
 
 Brownville 
 
 
 . 
 
 
 
 
 3t 
 
 *.Milo 
 
 
 John Gould 
 
 |. S. Adams 
 
 Milo 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Milford 
 
 American 
 
 Milford.... 
 
 
 " 
 
 $1.25 
 
 $5.00 
 
 
 SC 
 
 '..'.'.'... 
 
 Boarding: 
 
 .Mrs. F. A. Cannev. 
 A. P. Mayhew...'. . 
 
 " '.'.'.'. 
 
 
 u 
 
 1. 00 
 •50 
 
 4. CO 
 
 3-50 
 
 
 Sc 
 
 ♦Passadumkeasr 
 
 PassadumUeas;. 
 
 IL Chapman 
 
 Passad'k'g. 
 
 
 <' 
 
 1.00 
 
 
 
 
 ♦Lincoln 
 
 Lincoln House. 
 
 David Stockbridije. 
 
 Lincoln 
 
 
 " 
 
 1.50 
 
 4.00 to 
 
 $7.00 
 
 3C 
 
 " 
 
 Mansion House 
 
 M.IL & J.B.Stetscn 
 
 " . . . . 
 
 
 '< 
 
 I -SO 
 
 4.00 to 
 
 7.00 
 
 3C 
 
 *Winn 
 
 Katahdin House 
 
 S. B. Gates 
 
 Winn 
 
 ne.ir 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 J 0.00 
 
 
 IOC 
 
 " 
 
 Duck Lake 
 
 A. E. Gorosee 
 
 Springfield 
 
 20 
 
 Stage 
 
 1.50 
 
 0.00 
 
 
 2C 
 
 t( 
 
 
 G. L. F. Bail 
 
 ft 
 
 IS, 
 
 (( 
 
 I. SO 
 1.50 
 1.50 
 I -SO 
 
 
 
 
 11 
 
 Springfield 
 
 IL Burr 
 
 « 
 
 11 
 
 
 
 
 ,, 
 
 C. E. Bayington... 
 C. L. Hackett 
 
 
 35 
 35 
 
 ,1 
 
 
 
 
 *M;;tt'\vanikeag 
 
 Patten House.. 
 
 Patten 
 
 << 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 5c 
 
 '< 
 
 Moluncus 
 
 B. F. Coburn 
 
 S. Moluncus 
 
 7 
 
 " 
 
 I -SO 
 
 4. CO 
 
 
 2! 
 
 " 
 
 Sewell House.. 
 
 \V. W. Sewell 
 
 Island Falls 
 
 35 
 
 " 
 
 I -SO 
 
 S-oo 
 
 
 2( 
 
 ♦Kingman 
 
 Kinsiman 
 
 Larrabee Bros 
 
 Kingman . . 
 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 •75 
 
 4.00 
 
 
 5C 
 
 ♦Danforlli 
 
 Danlortli House 
 
 A. D. Morse 
 
 Danlorth .. 
 
 near 
 
 ,, 
 
 1. 00 
 
 3-50 
 3-50 
 
 
 
 *V'anceboro' . . . 
 
 Vanceboro' .... 
 
 M. L. Ross 
 
 Vanceboro' 
 
 at 
 
 
 
 
 V 
 
 " ... 
 
 McDonald's II'l 
 
 D. McDonald 
 
 «' 
 
 near 
 
 
 1.00 
 
 3-35 
 
 
 25 
 
 *Gray 
 
 
 Chas Gibbs 
 
 GrayCorner 
 
 3 
 
 Sta"'e 
 
 1.50 
 
 S 00 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 Farm 
 
 Silas Adams 
 
 West Gray. 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 *Auhurn 
 
 Elm House 
 
 \Vm. Young 
 
 Auburn 
 
 near 
 
 Hack 
 
 2.00 
 
 14.00 
 
 
 iSe 
 
 " 
 
 Maine Hotel 
 
 Wm. Spooner 
 
 " 
 
 " 
 
 " 
 
 1. 00 
 
 6.00 
 
 
 5c 
 
 " 
 
 Grand View... 
 
 S. E. Brown 
 
 W. Auburn 
 
 ih 
 
 Stage 
 
 1.50 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 15c 
 
 " 
 
 Lake Auburn. . 
 
 
 " 
 
 S' 
 
 
 2.00 to $2.50 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 15.00 
 
 
 •' 
 
 Turner Hotel.. 
 
 Calvin McKenny . . 
 
 Turner 
 
 10 
 
 " 
 
 1.50 
 
 7.00 
 
 
 
 »* 
 
 
 
 
 15 
 
 «< 
 
 1.50 
 2.50 
 
 
 
 
 *Le\viston 
 
 DeWitt House. 
 
 Quimby & Murch. . 
 
 Lewiston . . 
 
 Hack 
 
 10.00 to 
 
 16.00 
 
 150 
 
 " 
 
 Marston } louse 
 
 D. C. Hathaway... 
 
 " 
 
 1 
 
 " 
 
 2.00 
 
 6.0c to 
 
 14.00 
 
 ICW 
 
 ♦Monmouth ... 
 
 Boarding 
 
 Cochne\vas;an. . 
 
 I. S. Ballard 
 
 D. A. Pinkh.im.... 
 
 Monmouth. 
 
 3i 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 J -25 
 
 6.00 
 
 
 20 
 
 *\Vinthrop 
 
 Winthrop 
 
 Boarding 
 
 Webb & Richardson 
 
 Franklin Wood 
 
 A. G. Chandler.... 
 
 Ezra Norcross 
 
 Mrs. Geo. Bailey .. 
 
 Winthrop. . 
 
 \ 
 
 i 
 2 
 
 3 
 
 " 
 
 I -so 
 
 7.00 
 
 7.00 
 7.C0 
 
 7.00 
 7.00 
 
 
 70 
 12 
 10 
 
 8 
 S 
 
 (1 
 
 <( 
 
 L A. Carr 
 
 E. Winthr'p 
 Wayne 
 
 3 
 6 
 
 Stage 
 
 
 
 
 
 " 
 
 Wayne 
 
 W. S. Howard 
 
 1. 00 
 
 4.00 to 
 
 7.00 
 
 30 
 
 ♦Maranacook .. 
 
 Maranacook 
 Dinin^^ 
 
 
 Winthrop. . 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 30 
 
 ♦Readficld 
 
 Maranacook . . . 
 Dolly House . . 
 
 G. M. Fillcbrown.. 
 DoUv & Folsoni . . . 
 
 Readficld . . 
 
 2 
 
 I 
 
 ** 
 
 
 6.00 to 
 4.00 to 
 
 10.00 
 <;.oo 
 
 40 
 20 
 
 " .... 
 
 Lake View .... 
 
 T. y. Townsend... 
 
 " D'p't 
 
 1 ' 
 
 " 
 
 
 4.00 to 
 
 6.00 
 
 25 
 
 " .... 
 
 Smith Farm 1 
 
 Freds. Packard... 
 
 I. t. 
 
 I 
 
 " 
 
 
 4.00 to 
 
 6.00 
 
 IS 
 
 " .... 
 
 Upliam House . 
 
 E. W. Lewis 
 
 11 ti 
 
 2 
 
 '• 
 
 
 5.00 to 
 
 S.co 
 
 40 
 
 " 
 
 Hillside Farm . 1 
 
 A. W Bniinerd 
 
 " " 
 
 I 
 
 " 
 
 
 4. CO to 
 
 6.C0 
 
 2S 
 
 *Bi;ly:rade 
 
 Kailroad House 
 
 Leander Y eaton . . . 
 
 Belgrade .. 
 
 near 
 
 
 1. 00 
 
 S-oo 
 
 
 20 
 
 " 
 
 Central House . : 
 
 Chas. H. Austin. . . 
 
 " MiU- 
 
 6 
 
 '< 
 
 1. 00 
 
 5 Po 
 
 
 
 *No. Beli^rade . 
 
 No.l'ond House 
 
 Simonds Bros 
 
 Smithfield . 
 
 4 
 
 " 
 
 1.00 
 
 5. CO 
 
 
 2S 
 
 ♦Oakland 
 
 O.ikhind House 
 
 B.F. Frizzcll 
 
 Oakland . . . 
 
 near 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 1.50 to 2.ro 
 
 5.00 
 
 
 ■5 
 
 '• 
 
 Lake House . . . 
 
 W. F. Cunningham 
 
 " ... 
 
 " 
 
 
 1.50 to 2.00 
 
 S-co 
 
 
 20 
 
 " 
 
 E. Pond House 
 
 Simonds Bros 
 
 ■Smithfield . 
 
 4 
 
 '< 
 
 1.00 
 
 S-oo 
 
 
 20 
 
 ♦Fairfield 
 
 I' air*ield House 
 
 A. S. Pe.ase 
 
 Fairfield .. 
 
 near 
 
 " 
 
 2 00 
 
 5.00 to 
 
 10.50 
 
 SO 
 
 ♦Skowliegan .. 
 
 Heseltcn House 
 
 F. B. Heselton 
 
 Skowhegan 
 
 " 
 
 Hack 
 
 1.50 to 2.50 
 
 10.50 to 
 
 1 4. CO 
 
 ISO 
 
 " 
 
 Hotel Coburn. . 
 
 Robt. W. Haines .. 
 
 " 
 
 " 
 
 " 
 
 2. CO 
 
 S.oo to 
 
 12.00 
 
 100 
 
 " 
 
 Carritunk Ho.. . 
 
 Geo. E. Washburn 
 
 Solon 
 
 IS 
 
 Stage 
 
 1.50 
 
 5.00 to 
 
 7.00 
 
 ^0 
 
 ■ ' 1 
 
 t'arney's House 
 
 John Carney 
 
 Carritunk . . 
 
 3^ 
 
 
 1. 00 to 2.00 
 
 5.00 to 
 
 9.00 
 
 SO 
 
 ♦Telegraph Offices. 
 
154 
 
 Simimer Days Down East. 
 
 Names of 
 Houses. 
 
 *Skowhcg;ui 
 
 ♦Lisbon Fulls. 
 ♦Lisbon 
 
 *Sabalti5ville .. 
 *S!.ricl;lantl's fy. 
 *L. Livcrinore . 
 *Livfrmorc F'ls 
 
 *No. J;iv 
 
 *\Vil.on 
 
 East Wilton . 
 *Fannington 
 
 ♦Phillips. 
 
 Forks Hotel . . . 
 Parlin Pond . .. 
 St;i'rc House . . . 
 
 Hoibniok 
 
 Maine Central . 
 Lisbon House . 
 
 Boarding' 
 
 Sabattus House 
 
 Livermore 
 
 Boarding- 
 
 Knockomtka .. 
 National House 
 Franklin House 
 Wilton House . 
 Boardins 
 
 Name of 
 Proprietors. 
 
 Joseph Clark.. 
 A. F. Adams . 
 
 S. P. Littlefield . . . . 
 
 W. B. Jordan 
 
 J. P. Merchant 
 
 'F. E. Spoftord 
 
 R. D. Morse 
 
 Mrs.J.H.Sturtevant 
 C. G. Thwing&Co.l 
 
 Norridgewock . 
 
 ♦Madison 
 
 Anson 
 
 ♦North Anson.. 
 
 ♦Farmington or 
 ♦No. Anson.. 
 
 ♦St. John Roynl House .. 
 
 •' Duirerii) House 
 
 Gilbert Miiler 
 
 C. M. Richards 
 
 Dr. A. B. Adams.. 
 
 Jas. York 
 
 E. Newman 
 
 Frank Morton 
 
 J.B. Marble 
 
 J. W. Withee 
 
 E. Wej-mouth 
 
 y. Knowlton 
 
 T. L. Page 
 
 Samuel Farmer. . . . 
 
 U. L. Hillgrove 
 
 George M. Estey . . 
 
 J. A.^Burke 
 
 E. Gr.ant 
 
 H.T. Kimball 
 
 Morfcon Hr.use. 
 Hotel Marble . . 
 Stoddard House 
 Lake House . .. 
 
 Exchange 
 
 Elmwood 
 
 Barden Hcusc. 
 Mt Blue Hou<;e 
 Green VaU- .... 
 Rangeley L<lic 
 
 Oquossoc 
 
 Mountain \"icv.- 
 
 Forest Retreat, j Grant & Richardson 
 MoosemeguntijC. T. Richardson.. 
 Upper Dam John Chadwick . . . . 
 
 Camp Bcma.... [•'. C. Barker. 
 Sawyer House, it-awyer Bros. 
 
 Norridgewock . G. S. Jer^-ett 
 
 .Mercer House. . C'.,;orge E. Snow. 
 
 Madison D. W. Siraonds . . 
 
 Kennebec 1 
 
 Somerset Brown & Hilton . 
 
 Paine House . . . N. Gray 
 
 Fl.agstaff House G. A. Hewett... 
 Shaw House... IShaw & Page... 
 Mt. Bige'.ow ... Samuel Parsons 
 Quint ll-juse...|Orlaijdo Quint.. 
 
 Dirigo House. . jHanson Richardson 
 Blaisdell House R. Blaisdell 
 
 Tim Pond 
 
 Bo.irding 
 
 Seven P.^nds 
 
 Boarding. 
 Coburn House 
 
 1 Kcnnedv Smith. 
 
 Zadoc Norton. 
 
 Internr-.tioiial. 
 
 T. F. Raymond.... 
 
 F. \. lones 
 
 R. S. llykc 
 
 Wiivc luyHouSt J. Guthrie 
 
 7Ccv/ Victoria . . j D. W. McCormack, 
 r.-.n: llrusc i Edwards & Philips, 
 
 Post-Office 
 
 IeI 
 
 Convey. 
 
 Address. 
 
 ■l^l 
 
 ance. 
 
 
 Miles. 
 
 
 The Forks. 
 
 46 
 
 Stage 
 
 Parlin Pond 
 
 61 
 
 
 Bingham . . 
 
 23 
 
 23 
 
 „ 
 
 Lisbon F'lls 
 
 2ords. 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 Lisbon 
 
 1 
 
 " 
 
 Sabattisvi'e 
 
 2ords. 
 
 
 Livermore . 
 
 5 
 
 Stage 
 
 FavetteCor. 
 
 3 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 Liv'rm'sF's 
 
 near 
 
 
 Dixfield ... 
 
 15 
 
 Stage 
 
 Wilton 
 
 I 
 I 
 
 ** 
 
 Webb..!!!! 
 
 I 
 IS 
 
 ** 
 
 EastWilton 
 
 15 
 
 near 
 
 
 Farm'gton. 
 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 Phillips.... 
 
 near 
 
 ic-ds. 
 
 6 
 
 I 
 
 Greenvale . 
 
 >7 
 
 Stage 
 
 Rangeley . . 
 
 30 
 20 
 
 « 
 
 ** 
 
 26 
 
 Stage & 
 Steamer 
 
 Kennebago 
 
 
 
 Lake .... 
 
 39 
 
 Stage 
 
 Rich^dson 
 
 38 
 
 Stage & 
 Steamer 
 
 Up.Dami;/a 
 
 
 
 Indian R'k 
 
 40 
 
 «« 
 
 Bema 
 
 S8 
 
 •< 
 
 South Nor. 
 
 
 
 ridgewock 
 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 Norrid'w'k 
 
 s 
 
 
 Mercer 
 
 i 
 
 Stage 
 
 Madison . . . 
 
 Car'ge 
 
 Anson 
 
 
 
 No. Anson. 
 
 1 
 
 ** 
 
 Flagstaff . . 
 
 37 
 
 Stage 
 
 Eustis 
 
 45 
 
 " 
 
 Dead River 
 
 27 
 
 " 
 
 North New 
 
 
 
 Portland. 
 
 8 
 S 
 
 « 
 
 West New 
 
 
 
 Portland. 
 
 13 
 
 " 
 
 Eustis 
 
 37 
 
 37 
 37 
 
 ;; 
 
 IV.B. 
 
 
 
 St. John.... 
 
 
 Hack 
 
 Price per 
 Day. 
 
 1.50 
 
 1.50 
 1.00 
 
 i-So 
 1.50 
 
 1.50 
 1.50 
 2.00 
 
 1.50 
 
 1.50 
 
 1.50 
 1.50 
 3.00 
 
 I.OC 
 
 1.50 
 1.50 
 
 il.OO to $2.CO 
 1. 00 to 2.00 
 
 1.00 to 
 1. 00 to 
 2.00 
 1. 00 
 
 •75 
 
 1. 00 
 
 1. 00 
 2.00 
 
 1. 00 
 
 1 .50 to 2.00 
 
 1 .50 to 2.00 
 
 1. 00 
 3.00 
 3.00 
 1. 25 
 1. 25 
 
 2.00 
 1.50 
 2.00 
 2.00 
 2.00 
 
 3.00 
 
 3.00 
 
 2.00 
 
 2.00 
 2.00 
 
 Price per 
 Week. 
 
 $5.00 to $14.00 
 5. CO to 14.00 
 5 .00 to S.co 
 5.00 to S.oo 
 7.00 
 5.00 
 
 3-50 
 4.00 
 4xx> 
 
 S.oo 
 
 3.00 to 
 
 3.00 to 
 
 5.00 
 
 3.00 to 
 
 3.00 to 
 
 5.00 
 
 7.00 to 10.00 
 
 7.00 to 10.00 
 
 7.00 
 7.00 
 
 7.00 
 
 5.00 to 7.00 
 7.00 to 10.00 
 7.a-3 to 10.00 
 10.00 
 
 7. CO to 10.00- 60 
 
 I2.0O 
 
 7.00 
 
 s.oo 
 5.00 
 
 5.00 
 5.00 
 
 3-5° t" 
 3-5° to 
 3.C0 to 
 4.00 
 S-oo 
 5.00 to 
 4.00 to 
 
 3.C0 to 
 3.00 to 
 5.00 to 
 
 3.00 to 
 3.00 to 
 
 3.00 to s.oo 
 
 6 CO 
 
 O.CO 
 
 5.00 
 
 10 00 
 S.OO 
 
 S.oo 
 
 10.00 
 
 S.co 
 S.oo 
 
 ■^T^l-r-p^aph Offices. 
 
Principal Hotels. 
 
 155 
 
 Station. 
 
 Xame of 
 Houses. 
 
 Names of 
 Proprietors. 
 
 Post-Office 
 Address. 
 
 
 y - = 
 
 III 
 
 5"c^ 
 
 Convey. 
 
 ance. 
 
 Price per 
 Day. 
 
 Price per 
 \\cek. 
 
 u 
 
 
 
 Intercolonial H. 
 Depot House. . 
 Mansard House 
 Weldon House. 
 Koyal House . . 
 Phcenix House 
 Point Du Chene 
 
 Weldon House. 
 
 Dorchester 
 
 Weldon House. 
 Brunswick 
 
 Hamilton Ter. 
 
 Lamays 
 
 Norfolk House. 
 Roj-al House . 
 Banquet House 
 Eureka House. 
 
 Waverley 
 
 Clareraont 
 
 Belle Vue 
 
 Halifax House. 
 International .. 
 Waverley 
 
 P. McKay 
 
 Sussex 
 
 Pctitcodiac 
 Moncton... 
 
 Point Du 
 
 Chene ... 
 Shediac . . . 
 Dorchester. 
 
 Sackville .. 
 
 JV.S. 
 Amherst... 
 
 N. Glasgow 
 
 Pictou 
 
 Bedford'!!! 
 Halifax.... 
 
 Miles. 
 
 Car'ge 
 Hack 
 
 Car'ge 
 Hack 
 
 
 
 40 
 40 
 30 
 50 
 40 
 40 
 
 5° 
 
 
 A. McLean 
 
 Ritchie 
 
 *Moncton 
 
 W. J. Weldon 
 
 W.Wallace 
 
 E. White 
 
 *Pt. Du Chene . 
 *Shediac 
 
 Geo. L. Harington . 
 
 *Dorchester. . . . 
 Sackville 
 
 W. D. Wilbur 
 
 W. L. Wilbur 
 
 G. B. Estabrooks & 
 
 5° 
 5° 
 
 40 
 
 3.=; 
 40 
 
 75 
 so 
 20 
 60 
 
 30 
 
 40 
 40 
 
 liO 
 
 100 
 5^ 
 
 *Amherst 
 
 W.J. Hamilton.... 
 N. C. Calhoun 
 
 *Pictou .„^.. .. 
 ♦Bedford.'.'!!!! 
 
 ♦Halifax.!!!!!! 
 
 ' 
 
 S. C. Graliam 
 
 D. McDearmid 
 
 D. Munroe 
 
 Miss Mcl./ean 
 
 H. B.Sellon 
 
 Thos Beech 
 
 H.Hesslein&Son.. 
 Archibald Nelson. . 
 Miss Roman 
 
 ♦Telegraph Otfices. 
 
INDEX. 
 
 Abacotnetic Bog, 137. 
 Abagadusset, 21. 
 Abbott, 132, 153. 
 Abbott Family, 30, 75. 
 Abraham, Mount, 78. 
 Acadians, 144. 
 Addison, 127. 
 Allagash, 145. 
 Allerton Lodge, 85. 
 Amherst, N.D., 155. 
 Anderson, Gen. Robert, 3-. 
 Andover, 87. 
 Androscoggin Pond, 72. 
 Androscoggin Ri\er, 50. 
 Andros, Sir Edmund, 19, 119. 
 Anemone Cave, 126. 
 Annabesacook Lake, 52. 
 Anson, 64, 154. 
 Apples, 75. 
 Arnold's Expedition, 28, 34, 
 
 61,65,83. 
 Aroostook Country, 145. 
 Arrowsic, 95. 
 Arsenal, Kennebec, 34. 
 Arsenal, State, 129. 
 Ashburton, Lord, 64. 
 Ashburton Spring, 102. 
 Assacombuit, 14. 
 Athens, 62, 64. 
 Attean Pond, 69. 
 A uburn, 45,153- 
 
 Augusta, 31, 151. 
 Aziscoos, 86. 
 
 Baker Lake, 137. 
 Bald Mountain, 83, 85. 
 Bancroft, 141. 
 Bangor, 128, 152. 
 Bar Harbor, 124, 152. 
 Bar Island, 126. 
 Baring, Alexander, 64. 
 Dartol, Cyrus A., 15. 
 Bates College, 49, 50. 
 Bath, 21, 90, 94, 99, I - 1 . 
 Batty, Mount, 113. 
 Bedford, N.S., 155. 
 Beech Ilill, 79. 
 Belfast, 42, 115, 151. 
 Belgrade, 54, 76, 153 • 
 Bellamy, Captain, 105. 
 Benton, 42. 
 
 Bigelow, .Mount, 61, 65, 154. 
 I'lillings, Josh, 81. 
 Bingham, 64, 154. 
 Blackstrap Mill, 13. 
 Blaine, James G., 32. 
 Blanchard, 133, 152. 
 Blue, Mount, 79. 
 Boardman, George D.,41, 76. 
 Boniaseen, 14. 
 
 Bombardment of Portland, 11, 
 61. 
 
 156 
 
 Bodwell Quarries, loS. 
 
 Bomford, Col., 35. 
 
 Boothbay, 94, 151. 
 
 Bowdoin College, 16. 
 
 Bowdoinhani, 21. 
 
 B Pond, 132. 
 
 Bramhall Mill, 13. 
 
 Brandy Point, 85. 
 
 Brassua Lake, 137. 
 
 Brigadier Island, 116. 
 
 Brighton, 60, 64. 
 
 Bristol, 103. 
 
 British Naval Attacks, 11, 97, 
 
 99, 100, 104, 108, 114, 115, 
 
 117, 120, 128, 149. 
 Brooks, 151. 
 Brownvillc, 131, 153. 
 Brunswick, 15, 151. 
 Buck's Cove, 132. 
 Bucksport, 1 17. 
 Bugle Cove, 85. 
 Bull, Dixey, 103, 105. 
 Burnham, 42, 151. 
 Burnt Island, 98. 
 Hurr, Aaron, 65. 
 Butler, B. F., 41. 
 Byron, 74. 
 
 Calais, 148. 
 Camden, 1 12. 
 Camp Aziscoos, 86. 
 
Index. 
 
 ^57 
 
 Camp Bellevue, 86. 
 Ca:iip Bema, 74, 85, 154. 
 Camp Caribou, 89. 
 Camp Kennebago, 84. 
 Campobello, 149. 
 Camp Whitney, 86. 
 Cape Cod, 76. 
 Cape Rosier, 120. 
 Capitol Island, 98, 151. 
 Carraljasset Falls, 59. 
 Caribou, 146. 
 Caribou Lake, 138. 
 Caribou Narrows, 68. 
 Carmel, 43. 
 Carney's, 65, 153. 
 Carritunk Falls, 63, 153. 
 Carrying Place, 65. 
 Carver's Harbor, 108. 
 Casco Bay, 14. 
 Castine, 108, 11 8. 
 Caucomgomoc, 138. 
 Chain Ponds, 61. 
 Chairback, 132. 
 Chamberlain, J. L., 17. 
 Chamberlain Lake, 138, 145. 
 Chamcook Mountain, 149. 
 Chandler, Peleg W., 45. 
 Chelsea, 35. 
 Cherryfield, 127. 
 Chesuncook Lake, 138, 144. 
 China, 37, 39. 
 
 Chiputneticook Lakes, 141. 
 Churchill Lake, 145, 
 Clam Cove, 114. 
 Clearwater Pond, 77. 
 Clinton, 42, 62, 151. 
 Cobbossee Contee Pond, 24, 
 
 25. 28, 35, 53. 
 Coburn, 41, 62. 
 Colby University, 40. 
 Condy's Harbor, 20. 
 Cony Academy, 2,2)- 
 Corinna, 43, 152. 
 Corn, 75. 
 
 Cowan's Cove, 1 36. 
 Crabtree's Neck, 127. 
 
 Cranberry Tsles, 1:53. 
 Crowley's, 71. 
 Crystal Lake, 109. 
 Cumberland, 14, 44. 
 Cupsuptic Lake, 84. 
 Cushing, 106. 
 Cushing's Island, 12. 
 Cutler, 127. 
 
 Damariscotta, 103. 
 Danforth, 141, 153. 
 Danville Junction, 45. 
 Dead River, 60,61, 62, 67, 76, 
 
 83, 154- 
 Dearborn, Gen. Henry, 28, 52, 
 
 65- 
 Debec Junction, 143. 
 Decker Pond, 66. 
 Deer Isle, 109, 135. 
 Detroit, 42, 152. 
 Devil's Elbow, 145. 
 Dexter, 43, 152. 
 Dice's Head, 120. 
 Dixfield, 74, 154. 
 Dixmont, 152. 
 Dorchester, N. B., 155. 
 Dover, 132, 153. 
 Dresden, 22, 24. 
 Duck Brook, 126. 
 Dudley, Governor, 14. 
 
 Eagle Lakes, 126, 127, 144. 
 
 East Auburn, 46. 
 
 East Newport, 152. 
 
 East Outlet, 135. 
 
 East Pond, 39, 153. 
 
 Eastport, 149. 
 
 East Wilton, 74, 154. 
 
 Ebeeme Ponds, 131. 
 
 Echo Lake, 122. 
 
 Edgecomb Heights, 103. 
 
 Edmundston, 144. 
 
 Embden, 64. 
 
 Endless Lake, 131. 
 
 Enheld, 141. 
 
 Enterprise and Boxer, 99, 1 14. 
 
 Errol Dam, 88. 
 Etna, 43. 
 
 Eureka House, 92. 
 Eustis, 60, 76, 154. 
 Explorers, 3. 
 
 Fairfield, 61, 153. 
 
 Falmouth, 11, 14. 
 
 Falmouth Foreside, 14. 
 
 Farmington, 74, 154. 
 
 Fessenden, W. P., 45. 
 
 Fire Islands, 95. 
 
 Flagstaft' Plantation, 61, 154. 
 
 Forest, 3, 141. 
 
 Forks, The, 60, 63, 67, 154. 
 
 Fort Andros, 19. 
 
 Fort Edgecomb, loi. 
 
 Fort Fairfield, 145. 
 
 Fcrt Frederic'x, 104. 
 
 Fort George, 19. 
 
 Fort Halifax, 38. 
 
 Fort Knox, 117. 
 
 Fort Loyal, 10. 
 
 Fort JNlcDonough, 102. 
 
 Fort Point, 116. 
 
 Fort Popham, 92. 
 
 Fort Pownal, 117. 
 
 Fort Richmond, 22, 58. 
 
 Fort Shirley, 22. 
 
 Fort Western, 34, 65. 
 
 Foxcroft, 132, 153. 
 
 Fox Islands, loS, 121. 
 
 Fredericton, 142. 
 
 Freedom, 1 5 1. 
 
 Freeport, 15, 151. 
 
 Fremont, Gen., 126 
 
 French Canadians, 48, 60, 67. 
 
 Frenchman's Bay, 127. 
 
 Friendship, 106. 
 
 Gardiner, 25, 151. 
 Gardiner, Dr. Sylvestei, 27. 
 Gardiner, Sir Christopher, 18. 
 Georges River, 105. 
 Germans, 105. 
 Gorges, Sir F., 4, 10, 21, 44. 
 
>58 
 
 Index, 
 
 Grafton Notch, 88. 
 Grand Falls, 6i. 
 Grand Lake, 148. 
 Grand Manan, 150. 
 Granite, 31, 107. 
 Gray, 44, 153. 
 Great Pond, 122. 
 Greenbush, 141. 
 Greene, 52. 
 Greenleaf, Simon, 44. 
 Green Mountain, 127. 
 Greenvale, 79, 81, 154. 
 Greenville, 133, 134, 144, 152. 
 Guilford, 132, 153. 
 
 Haines Landing, 85. 
 Halifax, 142, 143, 155. 
 Hallovvell, 29, 151. 
 Hamlin, Cyrus, 73. 
 Hammond's Grove, 35. 
 Hancock, 127, 152. 
 Hardings, 151. 
 Harmony, 42. 
 Harpswell, 19, 151. 
 Harrington, 127. 
 Hartland, 42, 152. 
 Hawthorne, Nathaniel, 18, 51. 
 HaydenLake,63. 
 Hebron Academy, 47. 
 Hebron Lake, 133. 
 Hell Gate, 95. 
 Hermon, 43. 
 Hoar, Deacon, 82. 
 Hockomock Point, 95. 
 Holeb Pond, 69. 
 Houlton, 143, 146. 
 Howard, Gen. O. O., 30, 35, 
 
 72. 
 Howe, Timothy O., 47. 
 Howells,W. I)., 5. 
 Hudson, Hendrick, 123. 
 Hull's Cove, 121, 126. 
 Hunnewell's Beach, 92, 151. 
 Hurricane Falls, 61. 
 Hurricane Isle, 107 
 
 Ice, 22, 23, 24, 26. 
 
 Iceboro', 24. 
 
 Indian Rock, 84. 
 
 Indians, 4, 10, 18, 19, 21, 22, 
 27.24,37. 38,45.46,49.52, 
 56, 57. 71. 74, 92,93,94- 96, 
 98, 100, loi, 103, 104, 105, 
 III, 112, 119, 126, 136, 140, 
 148. 
 
 Industry, 60, 77. 
 
 Insane Asylum, 34. 
 
 Island Falls, 153. 
 
 Isle-au-Kaut, 108, 121, 
 
 Islesborough, 116. 
 
 Jamestown, 104. 
 
 Jay, 73.- 
 
 Jevvonke Neck, loi. 
 Jonesborough, 127. 
 Jonesport, 127. 
 Katahdin, Mount, 138. 
 Katahdin Iron Works, 131,151. 
 Keerdormeorp, 27. 
 Kellogg, Elijah, 20. 
 Kench's Mountain, 120. 
 Kennebago Lake, 83, 154. 
 Kennebec Dam, 34. 
 Kennebec River, 24, 135. 
 Kent's Hill, 54. 
 Kidd, Captain, 105. 
 Kingfield, 60. 
 Kingman, 153. 
 Knox and Lincoln R.R., 99. 
 Knox, Gen. Henry, 64, 106. 
 
 Ladd, William, 47. 
 
 Lake, Sir Biby, 22. 
 
 Lakes, 3. 
 
 Lake Auburn Spring, 46, 153. 
 
 I>eeils, 72. 
 
 Leeds Junction, 52, 72. 
 
 Lewiston, 48, 153. 
 
 Libbey Hill, 28. 
 
 Light Literature, 33. 
 
 Lily Bay, 135. 
 
 I-ime, 106. 
 
 Lincoln, 141, 153. 
 Lincolnville Pond, 113. 
 Lisbon Falls, 71, 154. 
 Literary Interest, 4, 10, 125, 
 
 128. 
 Livermore Falls, 72, 154. 
 Loading Ice, 27. 
 Longfellow, H. W., 4, 11, 17 
 
 74, 99- 
 Long Pond, 61, 152. 
 Louis Philippe, 30. 
 Lover's Leap, 130. 
 Lowell, J. R., 136, 137. 
 Lubec, 127. 
 Lumber, 29, 129. 
 
 Machias, 127. 
 Madawaska, 144. 
 Madison, 59, 154. 
 Madison Mills, 63. 
 Madockawando, 219. 
 Madrid, 79. 
 Magalloway River, 88. 
 Maine, 3. 
 
 Maine Central Railroad, 6. 
 Mantho-Mer Spring, 102. 
 Maranacook Lake, 53, 153. 
 Maritime Provinces, 143. 
 Mattawamkeag, 138, 139, 
 
 141, 153- 
 McAdam Junction, 142, 147. 
 Megantic Lake, 61, 65, 134. 
 Mere Point, 18. 
 Megunticook, 112. 
 Mercer, 154. 
 Merrymeeting Bay, 21. 
 Messalonske Lake, 54. 
 Metalic Point, 87. 
 Middle Dam, 87. 
 Milford, 14!, 153. 
 Millbridge, 127. 
 Milltown, 148. 
 Milo, 131, 153. 
 Minot, 47. 
 
 MoUychunkamunk Lake, 86. 
 Molunkus, 153. 
 
Index. 
 
 159 
 
 Molyneaux Pond, 113. 
 Moncton, N. B., 155. 
 Monhegan, 98. 
 Monmouth, 52, 153. 
 Monson, 133, 152. 
 Montpelier, 106. 
 Morrill, Lot M., 33. 
 Moody Islands, 136. 
 Moore, Sir John, 118. 
 Moosehead Lake, 43, 64, 68, 
 
 134- 
 Mooselucinagunlic Lake, 74, 
 
 84, 154. 
 Moose-River Village, 69. 
 Morititri Salutamzis, 17. 
 Moscow, 65. 
 Mount Desert, 121, 152. 
 Mount Kineo, 135. 
 Mouse Island, 97, 151. 
 jNIoxie Pond, 68. 
 Munjoy's Hill, 9. 
 Murray, John, 96. 
 
 Nequasset, 99. 
 
 New Brunswick, 142. 
 
 Newcastle, 103, 105. 
 
 New Gloucester, 45. 
 
 Newport, 42. 
 
 New Portland, 61, 154. 
 
 Newport mountain, 125, 126. 
 
 New Sharon, 54, 76. 
 
 New Sweden, 146. 
 
 New Vineyard, 59. 
 
 Noriidgewock, 19, 55, 65,154. 
 
 North Anson, 59, 76, 154. 
 
 North Bay, 137. 
 
 North-east Harbor, 122. 
 
 North Haven, 108. 
 
 North Jay, 73, 154. 
 
 Northport, 115, 155. 
 
 Norton, 75. 
 
 Oak Grove Seminary, 37. 
 Oak Hill, 15. 
 Oakland, 39, 54, 153. 
 Oakland Place, 28. 
 
 Ocean Point, 98. 
 O'Hara, quoted, 36. 
 Old Orchard, 12. 
 Old Point, 57. 
 Oldtown, 140, 152. 
 Oliver Hill. 35. 
 Onaway Lake, 133. 
 Oquossoc, 82, 154. 
 Orono, 140, 152. 
 Orr's Island, 19, 20. 
 Otter Creek Cliffs, 126. 
 Outlet, %i. 
 Ovens, The, 126. 
 
 Pamedomcook Lake, 138. 
 Parlin Pond, 69, 154. 
 Parmachenee Lake, 84, 88. 
 Passadumkeag, 141, 153. 
 Passamaquoddy Bay, 147. 
 Patten, 141, 153. 
 Pejepscot, 18. 
 Pemaquid, 103. 
 Penobscot Bay, 107, no. 
 Penobscot Lake, 137. 
 Pentagoet, 119. 
 Pentecost Harbor, 96. 
 Percival, Mount, 116. 
 Percy, Florence, 78. 
 Perkins, 24. 
 Phillips, 78, 154. 
 Phips, Sir Wm., 100, 104. 
 Phippsburg, 93. 
 Pittsfield, 42, 152. 
 Pittston, 26, 151. 
 Pleasant Point, 149. 
 Pleasant Pond, 68. 
 Pleasant-ridge Ponds, 66. 
 Poland Spring, 50. 
 Pond-town Plantation, 52. 
 Popham, 93. 
 Porcupine Island, 126. 
 Portland, 9, 151. 
 Potatoes, 147. 
 Presque Isle, 146. 
 Princeton, 148. 
 Prison, State, 106. 
 
 Pulp, 40. 
 
 Purchas, T , 18, 71. 
 
 Quaker Ridge, 72. 
 
 Railroads, 5. 
 Rainbow Cascade, 77, 
 Rangeley, 81, 154. 
 Rangeley Lakes, 79. 
 Rasle, Father, 57. 
 Readfield, 54. 
 Republican Party, 78. 
 Richardson Ponds, 86. 
 Richmond, 23, 151. 
 Richmond Mineral Spring, 24. 
 Riggsville, 95. 
 Ripogenus Lake, 138. 
 Riverside, 37. 
 Roach Pond, 135. 
 Rockland, 106, 112. 
 Rockport, 113. 
 Rokomeka, 72. 
 Rollo Books, 75. 
 Rome, 54. 
 Rosier, Cape, 103. 
 Royal River, 44. 
 Ryder's Cove, 109. 
 
 Sabattis, 19, 154. 
 Sabattus Pond, 72. 
 Sabbath Day Pond, 51, 
 St. Andrew, 148. 
 St. Catherine's Hall, 33, 
 St. Castin, Baron, 119. 
 St. Francis, 144. 
 St. George, 106. 
 St. John, 142, 154. 
 St. John River, 144. 
 St. Sauveur, 121. 
 St. Stephen, 148. 
 Salem, 78. 
 Sandy Bay, 68. 
 Sandy River, 74, 77. 
 Sangervilie, 132. 
 Saturday Cove, ri6. 
 Saxons, 23 
 
i6o 
 
 Index. 
 
 Schoodic T,akes, 131, 14S. 
 Schooner Head, 126. 
 Scots, 105. 
 Seal Harbor, 123. 
 Searsport, 116. 
 Sebasticook River, 38, 42. 
 Sebec, 132. 
 Sebenoa, 22, 71. 
 Seboois Lake, 131. 
 Seven Ponds, 60, 83, 154. 
 Sheep Pond, 132. 
 Sheepscot, Old, loi. 
 Sheepscot River, icx). 
 Shell Heaps, 105. 
 Sherman, 139, 141, 153. 
 Ship-building, 23, 16, 91, 92, 
 
 129. 
 Ship Pond, 133. 
 Shirley, 68, 133, 152. 
 Silver, no. 
 
 Skovvhegan, 60, 62, 153. 
 Slate, 131, 133. 
 Small Point, 151. 
 Smith, Capt. John, 93, 119. 
 Smithlield, 153. 
 Soldier's Monuments, 33, 49, 
 
 90, 96, 118, 127. 
 Solon, 63, 153. 
 Somes's Sound, 122, 123. . 
 Somerville, 224. 
 Sophie May, 56. 
 Southwest Harbor, 122. 
 Spencer Bay, 135. 
 Springfield, 153. 
 Squam Heights, 102. 
 Squanto, 96. 
 
 Squaw Mountain, 134, 135. 
 Squirrel Island, 96, 15 1. 
 Starks, 60. 
 State House, 32. 
 
 Stations, 7. 
 Steamer, First, 76. 
 Steamboats, Ancient, 14, 41. 
 Stedman, quoted, 2. 
 Stirling, 105. 
 Stogummor, 10. 
 Stowe, Mrs., 5, 16, 19, 20. 
 Strickland's Ferry, 154. 
 Strong, 78. 
 Sugar Island, 135. 
 Sullivan, 127. 
 Swan Island, 22, 24. 
 Swedes, 146. 
 
 Talleyrand, 30. 
 Temiscouata Lake, 144. 
 Thevet, in, 119. 
 Thomas Hill, 130. 
 Thomaston, 105. 
 Thorndike, 151. 
 Ticonic Falls, '^^, 40. 
 Tim Pond, 60, 154. 
 Togus Springs, 28, 35. 
 Topsham, 21. 
 Trescott, 127. 
 Trout Cove, 86. 
 Turner, 47, 153. 
 
 Umbagog Lake, 88. 
 Umbazooksus Lake, 145. 
 Umsaskis Lake, 145. 
 Unity, 151. 
 Upper Dam, 85, 154. 
 Upper Richardson Lake, 86 
 Upton, 88. 
 
 Vanceboro', 141, 142, 153. 
 Vassalboro', 37, 151. 
 Vaughan, Benjamin, 29. 
 Veazie, 141, 142. 
 Vinalhaven, 108. 
 
 Waldoborough, 105. 
 
 Waldo, Gen., 19, 23, 103, 106, 
 
 117. 
 Walker's Pond, 120. 
 Walnut Hill, 44. 
 Warren, 105. 
 
 Washburn Family, 73, 123. 
 Water Views, 7. 
 Waterville, 39, 54, 151. 
 Wayne, 153. 
 Webber's Pond, 39. 
 Webb's Pond, 74, 76. 
 Webster, 72. 
 Weld, 74, 76. 
 
 Welokennebacook Lake, 87. 
 West Auljurn, 47. 
 West Branch, 137. 
 West Dresden, 22. 
 West P^almouth, 14 
 Westport, 95. 
 West Waterville, 39, 54. 
 Whittier quoted, 5, 20, 58, 67, 
 
 81, 127, 139. 
 Wilson Ponds, 134, 151. 
 Wilton, 74, 154. 
 Winn, 153. 
 Winterport, 118. 
 Winthrop, 52, 153. 
 Winthrop, Theodore, 3, 86, 
 
 87, 138. 
 Winslow, 37. 
 Wiscasset, loo. 
 Wood Pond, 69. 
 Woodford's Corner, 13. 
 Woolwich, 95, 99. 
 Worumbo, 18. 
 
 Yarmouth, 15, 151. 
 York, Duke of, 103. 
 

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