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 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
SALEM, THE HABITATION OF PEACE 
 
 " 'T is the home of our childhood ! The beautiful spot 
 Which memory retains when all else is forgot." 
 
OUR FIRST 
 
 OLD HOME DAY 
 
 at ^altm^ jmaine 
 
 AUGUST SEVENTEENTH 
 1904 
 
 PUBLISHED BY 
 
 D. C. HEATH & COMPANY 
 
 120 BOYLSTON STREET, BOSTON 
 1905 
 

 Library of -.ongress! 
 AUG 23 I9U5 
 
 )oyi'rii(iii ciiu> 
 
 <^It^. i S. i9e>i' 
 
 COP* ti. 
 
 J ».^ - , ■ IBM i - . T - I « Wi— ' ■ ' ' 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY 
 D. C. HEATH & CO. 
 
TO OLD SALEM 
 
 By Edna Worthley Underwood 
 
 Great-grand-daughter of Albert Hayford 
 
 I know a little village in the north 
 
 Whose green fields now the white spring-flowers storm 
 
 In curling waves of snow-white daisy-foam. 
 
 Up-beating fierce in Spring's abandonment. 
 
 Till all the lonely little village streets 
 
 Are flecked with fragrant foam. 
 
 I know a little village in the north 
 
 From off whose rampart heights the clarion spring 
 
 Flings far her yellow-throated messages 
 
 And fair flower-blazoned heraldry. 
 
 Till all the lonely little village streets 
 
 Are sweet with minstrelsy. 
 
 I know a little village in the north 
 Which Abram shields against the winter's storm, 
 Bold-squaring his broad shoulders to the blast, 
 Kind sentinel, faithful unto the trust 
 Of guarding all the sheltered homes below 
 Where the Quick River runs. 
 V 
 
Co €)ID ^alem 
 
 I know a little village in the north 
 Sweet all midsummer-time with scent of pine ; 
 There, checkerberries redden in the wood. 
 By the road-side black-beaded berries grow 
 Which other children — as I loved to do — 
 Now string on meadow grass. 
 
 To thee, old Salem, thought turns longingly, 
 (While sun-bright are the warm mid- August days) 
 To Salem with its girdle of blue hills. 
 To old schoolmates who now are gathered there. 
 With whom, though prairie levels intervene. 
 My spirit dwells this glad Reunion-time. 
 
 Arkansas City, Kansas, August i, 1904. 
 
 VI 
 
PREFACE 
 
 The matter between these covers has 
 been put in type for the following reasons : 
 
 Firsts because a large number of those 
 present on Old Home Day could not hear 
 the speakers and were promised at the time 
 that they should have an opportunity later of 
 seeing in print as much of the proceedings as 
 could easily be reproduced. 
 
 About four hundred persons responded 
 to the invitation, and the old town house 
 would hold but a small portion of the 
 number present. After assembling in, and 
 at the door of, this largest audience room 
 in town, it was agreed that we should ad- 
 journ to the new Camp Meeting Grounds 
 at the left of the road leading west from 
 
pvtfatt 
 
 Edgar Wills' house (formerly the residence 
 of Daniel Heath). The seats and the 
 speakers' booth in these grounds were 
 used for the first time at our Reunion and 
 answered the purpose admirably. And yet 
 there were so many present and there was 
 so much pardonable talking in the space 
 back of the seats, where old friends were 
 cordially greeting old friends whom they 
 had not seen for many years, that neither 
 they nor those in the rear seats heard 
 all that the speakers were saying. There 
 being no reporter present, each one who 
 spoke was asked to reproduce in script, as 
 well as he could, the remarks he had made, 
 and this book is the result. 
 
 Second^ many who^ because of distance^ 
 age, infirmity y or the cares of life, could not 
 be present, lamented the fact and expressed 
 the hope that they might have a full account 
 of the Reunion. 
 
 This book will take our greetings to 
 viii 
 
pttfact 
 
 them, express our regret that they could 
 not be with us, and voice the hope that we 
 may meet them at the next Reunion — 
 five years hence, if not earUer ! 
 
 Thirty the wish was expressed by those 
 who heard the proceedings that the histories 
 of the town might be put in permanent form, 
 as being of much interest to Salemites whether 
 present at the Reunion or not. 
 
 There was, as far as known, but one 
 copy of Albert Pease's history of the town, 
 which appeared in the Farmington Chron- 
 icle of April 24th, 1862. This one copy 
 belongs to his son, Charles H. Pease, 
 of Holliston, Massachusetts, and was 
 kindly loaned by him, the more cheerfully 
 since he was unable to be at the Reunion, 
 as he had hoped to be. The history writ- 
 ten by Mr. Pease and incorporated in this 
 volume, and the brief history prepared for 
 our Old Home Day by Walter S. Heath, 
 should form the basis of a more complete 
 
history, including more events and per- 
 sons, which we hope may some time ap- 
 pear. If any and every one reading these 
 pages will kindly forward any additional 
 information concerning the town's people 
 or events to Walter S. Heath, Salem, 
 Maine, he will carefully preserve the same 
 in the town archives. In this way a much 
 more extensive history may, in fulness of 
 time, be prepared. Our great-grandfathers, 
 our grandfathers, and our fathers, many 
 of them, have passed away ; but have we 
 not in store or memory some papers or 
 anecdotes of theirs that should be saved 
 from oblivion ? And now, before our 
 crowns grow much whiter or many more 
 wrinkles appear in our faces, let us one 
 and all send to him the more important 
 of our own reminiscences. 
 
 Fourth^ because by printing we can pre- 
 serve and circulate extracts from letters and 
 other communications which the length of 
 
ptttatt 
 
 the printed program did not allow time for 
 reading. 
 
 Fifths because it is hoped that by the sale 
 of the book at one dollar a copy enough money 
 may be collected to add a little sum to our 
 library fund, after paying for the actual cost 
 of the book. 
 
 George W. Mills, 
 Nelson P. Harris, 
 Walter S. Lovejoy, 
 Edgar Wills, 
 Walter S. Heath, 
 Old Home Day Committee. 
 Salem, Maine, 1905. 
 
 XI 
 
PROGRAMME AND 
 TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Dedicatory Poem to Old Salem, by Edna 
 Worthley Underwood, great-grand- 
 daughter of Albert Hayford . . v 
 
 Preface vii-xi 
 
 Contents xiii 
 
 List of Illustrations xvii 
 
 Sunday of Old Home Week 
 
 Sermon at Town Hall, by Rev. Abel W. 
 
 Pottle of Lisbon Falls .... i 
 
 Wednesday, Old Home Day 
 
 1. Ringing of the Bells 
 
 2. Meeting at the Town House at 9.30. 
 
 Guests from the train and others 
 received by the local committee and 
 the Chairman, D. C. Heath . . 7 
 
 3. Invocation by the Rev. Mr. Pottle. 
 
 4. Singing " Home, Sweet Home," by 
 
 all present . 8 
 
 xiii 
 
Cable of ContcntjsJ 
 
 5. Address of Welcome by Walter S. 
 
 Heath 10 
 
 6. Respnose to Address of Welcome by 
 
 D. C. Heath 13 
 
 7. Annals of the Town of Salem, Me., 
 
 by Albert Pease 27 
 
 8. A Brief History of the Town from 
 
 1 81 5 by Walter S. Heath ... 51 
 
 9. Singing " Old Oaken Bucket," by all 
 
 present 66 
 
 10. Poem by Charles H. Bangs, of Everett, 
 
 Mass 68 
 
 11. Music. Fife, Sumner Lovejoy ; drum, 
 
 G. A. Page, Kingfield .... 79 
 
 12. Some Memories of the eastern part of 
 
 the town by Hon. George Pottle, of 
 Lewiston, Me., and Rev. Abel Pottle 80 
 
 13. Some Memories of the western part 
 
 of the town by Elbridge G. Heath 
 of Auburn, Me., and George W. 
 Harris of Salem, Me 100 
 
 14. Mrs. Underwood's Reminiscences . 109 
 
 15. A Dream, by Rev. Albert Hayford 
 
 Heath, D. D 123 
 
 xiv 
 
Cable of Contentjs 
 
 1 6. Salem's Old Home Day, a poem by 
 
 Mrs. George Underwood (Carrie 
 Frances Nash), of Fayette, Me. . 127 
 
 17. George Underwood's Address . . .146 
 
 18. Presentation of Cake to the oldest 
 
 person present who was born in 
 Salem 150 
 
 19. Our Schools and Schoolmasters, by 
 
 one of the schoolmasters, Hon. 
 Joel Wilbur of Phillips, Me. . . 152 
 
 20. Singing "Auld Lang Syne," by all 
 
 present 157 
 
 21. Benediction by Rev. H. S. Trueman . 157 
 
 The Aftermath . 158 
 
 The First Book given to the New 
 
 Library 158 
 
 More Reminiscences of the Western 
 Part of the Town, by Charles H. 
 
 Bangs, Everett, Mass 160 
 
 The First White Child Born in Salem 164 
 Letters of Congratulation and Ap- 
 proval 165-169 
 
Cable of Contents 
 
 Extract from the Farmington Chronicle, 
 
 August 24th, 1904 170 
 
 Old Home Day Mail Bag . . . 176-221 
 Containing letters from Miss Gay, Mrs. 
 E. M. Gay, John Turner, F. G. Mills, 
 Miss Julia H. May, F. S. Smith, Charles 
 H. Bangs, Mrs. Parmelia E. French, 
 Dr. A. W. Stinchfield, James C. Keene, 
 Mrs. Robert Armour, Mrs. H. G. 
 Turner, Mrs. America Walton, Mary 
 Emma Ellsworth, Benjamin F. Day, 
 Mrs. Frank Wyman, Mrs. F. C. Butler, 
 Mrs. J. S. Milliken, R. J. Mayo; C. L. 
 Pottle, Albert E. Jones, Clinton J. Rich- 
 ards, J. N. Davis, George Clinton 
 Heath, Warren S. Voter, Dr. Oliver W. 
 Turner, E. K. Humphrey, D. P. Blake, 
 A. C. Otis, D. D. GrafFam, E. R. 
 Heath, James C. Pottle, Rev. Ernest 
 K. Caswell, Mrs. Julia Tarbox, Mrs. 
 Deborah Howard. 
 Reminiscences, by Mr. M. W. Love- 
 joy 197 
 
 A Reminiscence, related by Mrs. Otis 
 of Readfield, formerly Miss Lu- 
 cinda Blake 217 
 
 Old Home Day Register (incomplete) 222-227 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Salem, the Habitation of Peace (^Frontispiece) 
 
 Rev. A. W. Pottle i 
 
 Walter S. Heath lo 
 
 D. Collamore Heath 13 
 
 Charles M. Heath 25 
 
 Albert Pease 27 
 
 Old Red School House 65 
 
 Charles H. Bangs 68 
 
 Hon. George Pottle 81 
 
 Elbridge G. Heath ioi 
 
 George W. Harris 105 
 
 Mrs. C. F. Underwood 109 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Harris 150 
 
 Hon. Joel Wilbur 152 
 
HOW THE PROGRAMME 
 WAS CARRIED OUT 
 
 Sunday. — A Sermon at the Town 
 House by Rev. Abel W. Pottle of 
 Lisbon Falls 
 
 Prov. i^: j/f.. "Righteousness exalteth a nation. 
 But sin is a reproach to any people." 
 
 There is in every well-disposed mind 
 an instinctive desire for prosperity, for 
 progress, for exaltation ; and 
 at the same time a dread of 
 failure, of adversity, of re- 
 proach. These two impulses 
 are among the master motives 
 of life. Our text teaches us 
 how we secure the one and 
 avoid the other. 
 
 Some cherish mistaken ideas 
 as to the true ground and 
 occasion of exaltation. They 
 too often associate this desired 
 end with great wealth, official position, or 
 I 
 
 REV. A. W. POTTLE 
 
m\). 2htl W. ^ottle'0 pennon 
 
 remarkable gifts. They think that our na- 
 tional greatness and exaltation is because 
 of our vast territory, our inexhaustible re- 
 sources, our extended seacoast, our navi- 
 gable rivers, our inland seas, our extensive 
 forests, and our broad and fruitful prairies. 
 We point with pride to our broad do- 
 main, to the wonderful development of 
 our resources and our vast wealth accumu- 
 lations. And certainly in these respects 
 we are a favored land. But these material 
 considerations alone do not constitute the 
 ground and occasion of our national great- 
 ness, only as they are associated with right- 
 eousness, with justice, and with truth. 
 What is the testimony of history ? Rome 
 was never greater nor stronger in all ma- 
 terial resources and opportunities and pos- 
 sibilities than when she commenced to 
 decline. The glorv and strength of Israel 
 faded and failed when she was at the very 
 acme of her earthly advantage and ripeness, 
 
 2 
 
because she " departed from following the 
 Lord with a perfect heart." 
 
 Righteousness is in and of itself an ele- 
 ment of power and exaltation. It is an in- 
 spiration to courage. It imparts strength. 
 It quickens and nerves the mind and the 
 hand for heroic action. It conserves, it 
 guides and protects the true aims and in- 
 terests of the individual and of the nation. 
 Righteousness enhances the value of all 
 legitimate pursuits and possessions. 
 
 But we pass to notice the second pro- 
 position of our text : " Sin is a reproach 
 to any people." Sin is our willing wrong 
 doing or wrong being. It has reference to 
 conduct and character. Seldom does one 
 become so blinded and insensible as to 
 deny the truth of this simple proposition. 
 We need only to illustrate it, and so enforce 
 it upon your attention. 
 
 Notice our political campaigns. Good 
 men, or those claimed to be good men, are 
 3 
 
mt\}. abel W. i^ottle'js Sermon 
 
 nominated for office. The excellences of 
 the candidate are exploited as a reason why- 
 he should receive the votes of the people. 
 It is the work of the opposition to show 
 his vices and defects as a reason why the 
 people should not endorse his nomination. 
 All this is on the ground that righteous- 
 ness exalts, while sin is a reproach. Take 
 another illustration. It is a sad fact that 
 sordidness and selfishness and dishonesty 
 and avarice are too common in the land. 
 But who ever points to this state of things 
 as the glory of our people ? They are 
 looked upon rather as a reproach, because 
 these prevalent evils are sins. 
 
 A few years ago the institution of Afri- 
 can slavery rested upon our fair land. 
 Slavery became a power in the nation. 
 Millions of men were interested in it. Mil- 
 lions of dollars were invested in it. It was 
 legalized, and good men advocated it. It 
 came to be a controlling factor in our social, 
 4 
 
mt^. abel W. pottle'is Sermon 
 
 political, and financial life. Yet who to-day, 
 or even then, pointed to slavery as the 
 glory of our nation ? It was the nation's 
 reproach because it was sin. 
 
 In our own day the vice and crime of 
 intemperance prevails to an alarming ex- 
 tent. Intoxicating liquors are manufac- 
 tured, sold and consumed. Millions of 
 money are invested in the rum business, 
 and vast numbers of men are employed in 
 it. This evil has come to have great in- 
 fluence in the land. Men would legalize 
 it and make it respectable. It has gained 
 a controlling influence over the two domi- 
 nant political parties. But for all this, who 
 ever points to the rum business and the 
 drinking habits of our people as the glory 
 of our nation ? Is it not, rather, con- 
 sidered a reproach, for it is sin. 
 
 Take another illustration. I refer to the 
 prevalent popular desecration of the Sab- 
 bath Day. Instead of making it a Holy 
 5 
 
met), abel W. j^ottle')^ ^etmon 
 
 day, it is made by vast numbers a holiday. 
 The cars and other public conveyances are 
 run as on other days. The Sunday paper 
 is hawked about our streets. The churches 
 are forsaken. Pleasure seeking and money 
 making characterize the day. But who 
 ever points to this tendency to Sabbath 
 desecration as the glory and exaltation of 
 our land ? Is it not rather our reproach, 
 which threatens the overthrow of our re- 
 ligious institutions ? 
 
 If this beautiful town and community, 
 nestling in this charming valley, under the 
 kind protection of old Mount Abram, 
 would prosper and enjoy exaltation, then 
 must the individuals of the town observe 
 the conditions of such prosperity. Let 
 righteousness, virtue, justice and truth pre- 
 vail, accompanied by industry, skill and 
 frugality. Then these fields will yield their 
 increase, and all will be well. 
 
OLD HOME DAY 
 
 WEDNESDAY, AUGUST 17, 1904 
 
 1. Reception by the Committee at the Old 
 
 Town House. 
 
 2. Assembly at the Camp Meeting 
 
 Grounds called to order by D. C. 
 Heath of Boston, Chairman, who 
 said : — 
 As a boy in Salem, and a boy of a good 
 deal of spirit too, I was often called to or- 
 der by the town authorities. And I suppose 
 that I as often thought I would sometime 
 get even with them by calling the town to 
 order. That time has come. This is my 
 first opportunity to say, and more gently 
 than the town used to say it to me : Please 
 come to order! 
 
 After the Rev. Mr. Pottle invokes the 
 7 
 
flDin ^^ome ®a^ 
 
 Divine Blessing, we will all sing, I am sure 
 with spirit and understanding, ^^Home^ Sweet 
 Home" and then wait a moment to see if 
 we are going to be " invited in." Walter 
 S. Heath acts as spokesman for our hosts. 
 
 3. The Invocation. 
 
 4. Singing — Home, Sweet Home. 
 
 'Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam. 
 Be it ever so humble, there 's no place like home; 
 A charm from the skies seems to hallow us there. 
 Which, seek thro' the world, is ne'er met with else- 
 where. 
 
 Refrain. 
 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home. 
 There 's no place like home. 
 Oh, there 's no place like home. 
 
 I gaze on the moon as I tread the drear wild. 
 And feel that my mother now thinks of her child. 
 As she looks on that moon from our own cottage door. 
 Thro' the woodbine whose fragrance shall cheer me no 
 
 8 
 
€)ID i^omc IBav 
 
 Refrain. 
 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home. 
 There 's no place like home. 
 Oh, there 's no place like home. 
 
 An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain; 
 Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again; 
 The birds singing gayly, that came at my call; 
 Give me them, and that peace of mind, dearer than all. 
 
 Refrai/i. 
 
 Home, home, sweet, sweet home. 
 There's no place like home. 
 Oh, there 's no place like home. 
 
ADDRESS OF WELCOME 
 
 By Walter S. Heath of Salem 
 
 As one of the oldest residents of Salem 
 1 have been chosen to extend in behalf 
 of our people not merely a formal but 
 a sincere welcome to all its 
 returning sons and daughters 
 who honor us with their pre- 
 sence here during this " Old 
 Home Day." 
 
 Salem is justly proud of the 
 ability and character of its rep- 
 resentatives scattered through- 
 out the land, from the east to 
 the west. We are proud of 
 those who have volunteered to 
 assist us in this undertaking, 
 and especially proud, Mr. Chairman, of 
 the originator of this Old Home Week 
 and Day in Maine. 
 
 WALTER S. HEATH 
 
 ID 
 
I5t Salter ^. l^eat)^ 
 
 He has sent greetings to many and we 
 are greatly delighted to see so many pre- 
 sent to share in this, our first attempt at a 
 gathering of this kind. We are reminded, 
 however, that those who participate here 
 to-day are but a handful compared with 
 the real number we have invited. I trust 
 you feel that you are welcome guests. 
 We can but rejoice that you have so nobly 
 honored the town of your nativity. 
 
 Ninety years have elapsed since the 
 pioneer's axe was first heard in this, the 
 most beautiful valley of Franklin County. 
 How much these years contain ! A full 
 history would sadden, gratify, and amuse. 
 Many of the noble sons and daughters 
 who have honored Salem's name have 
 passed beyond to that higher and better 
 life toward which we are all hastening. 
 The tombstones in our cemetery do not 
 represent them all, for many are laid away 
 beneath other soil ; yet their memory still 
 II 
 
^titire^^ of l^elcome 
 
 lingers, and will be kept green as long as 
 this generation abideth. 
 
 Our messenger has been sent to the 
 miner and the cowboy of the West ; to 
 the cabin of the sailor, and the tent of 
 the soldier in the East; as well as to the 
 lawyer, the doctor, the publisher, and the 
 minister ; and a response has been received 
 from many who are not able to be present. 
 
 This call has awakened in us all a desire 
 to meet again : which we surely shall do, 
 either here or hereafter. 
 
 In behalf of the citizens of Salem, I 
 would ask all to register now and to meet 
 with us again in future years. 
 
 Who that in distant lands has chanced to roam. 
 Ne'er thrills with pleasure at the name of home ? 
 
 Chairman : 
 
 We are evidently not only " invited 
 in," but almost pulled in and invited to 
 " have a doughnut and some coffee." 
 
 12 
 
RESPONSE 
 
 By D. C. Heath of Boston 
 
 I SUSPECT that I have been chosen to re- 
 ply to this cordial welcome we have just 
 received because I have been chiefly re- 
 sponsible for asking you if we 
 might come to see you this 
 year, and because I have been 
 so active, not to say officious, 
 in extending an invitation to 
 others to come to see you and 
 to see each other. 
 
 We thank you, Walter (as 
 all the boys and girls who go 
 to the post office call vou), 
 and we thank also the good 
 people of our dear old native 
 town for the cordial welcome you and 
 they have given us. You have already 
 made us so much at home that we feel 
 13 
 
 D. C. HEATH 
 
mcjsponje^c 
 
 as if we had never been away. You don't 
 reproach us with having been prodigal 
 sons, although the fatted calves which 
 you have killed would suggest that. In- 
 stead, you have given us the kind of 
 welcome the old Maine farmer gave his 
 son who, when a bov, had, among other 
 chores, to bring in the wood at night. One 
 night, after he had brought in two armfuls 
 of the three which he was accustomed to 
 pile up in the corner, he concluded that he 
 would carry into effect a wish he had long 
 held, and go to sea. He ran away and was 
 gone fifteen years. At the end of that time 
 he thought he preferred home, after all. 
 He went home and, as he approached the 
 house, peered through the window, and 
 saw his father sitting bv the open fire read- 
 ing his evening paper, as of old. It occurred 
 to the boy, then grown to be a young man, 
 that he would go to the wood-pile, get that 
 third armful of wood and walk in as if 
 
15V '^^ C. i$tat}) 
 
 nothing had happened. As he opened the 
 door, he called out : " Here 's the rest of 
 the wood, father ! " The old man looked 
 around, saw who it was, and said forgiv- 
 ingly : " Now you may go to bed." 
 
 You who have lived here all your lives 
 do not realize the thrill of joy that comes 
 over us who have wandered far and wide, 
 and who to-day, for the first time in many 
 years, come in sight of the old home. The 
 new approach by rail is interesting, but it 
 is n't like the old approach over the Pat- 
 terson Hil], when this beautiful valley sud- 
 denly rises, radiant, to welcome us, like 
 Goldsmith's Village of the Plain. Dear old 
 Foster-mother ! The sight of no place on 
 earth can ever produce in us such peace 
 and fullness of joy. It was rightly named 
 " Salem," which, like Jeru-salem, means 
 " Habitation of Peace." Where is there 
 such another habitation of peace as the spot 
 whereon we now stand, guarded by the 
 15 
 
" everlasting hills," presided over by his 
 majesty, Mount Abram, to us the dearest 
 and, in our childhood, the highest moun- 
 tain in our small world ? And, better than 
 all, 'tis home ! 
 
 There 's a strange something which e'en wise men 
 
 can't explain 
 Planted in man to bind him to that earth, in dearest 
 
 ties, from whence he drew his birth. 
 
 A man may have many homes, but the 
 " Old Home " where he was born is ever 
 the one to which his heart turns more and 
 more often, and with increasing tender- 
 ness as the years go by ; just as the man 
 who is master of many languages, when 
 he comes to die, speaks his last words in 
 his mother tongue. 
 
 But, while we are delighted with your 
 generous welcome, we are not surprised^ 
 for we remember you as an uncommonly 
 hospitable people. I have been wonder- 
 ing why you have always been so hospi- 
 i6 
 
15V ©♦ C l^eatl^ 
 
 table, and have concluded that it is be- 
 cause there are so few of you (and you 
 don't seem to be rapidly growing more 
 numerous) that you have been dependent 
 upon each other for amusement and, in the 
 early days, before the mails brought you 
 the papers as often as they do now, you 
 were dependent upon each other for in- 
 formation — at least, concerning current 
 events. You could not live without each 
 other, and have therefore lived largely with 
 and for each other. And I notice that 
 you still call each other by your given 
 names. 
 
 If your home had been in the city, you 
 might not have known your next-door 
 neighbor except by accident, and, if you 
 had wanted amusement, you would have 
 gone to the theatre. But here you get 
 together at the store, at the blacksmith 
 shop, or at the mill, and you have to 
 become acquainted with one another — 
 17 
 
giving and getting at the same time infor- 
 mation and pleasure. 
 
 As a blacksmith's son, it was my good 
 fortune to hear many things discussed 
 that made a lasting impression on my 
 mind and heart. I distinctly recall to-day 
 the discussion by our neighbors of the 
 Crimean War, then being waged (just 
 fifty years, or a half century, ago) and the 
 fortunes and misfortunes of that war. I 
 remember how my father and his visitors 
 would illustrate with pieces of iron the 
 positions and construction of the forts, 
 and the position of the armies, both Eng- 
 lish and Russian. In this connection, I 
 also recall a flaming war poster which 
 hung in my Uncle Porter's store, a store 
 which I was allowed to visit a little more 
 often because it was kept by my uncle. 
 If I mistake not, that poster, probably 
 sent out by some newspaper, represented 
 the bombardment of Sevastopol. 
 
I3r ?^. C l^eat]^ 
 
 And vou got together not only at the 
 store and the blacksmith shop, but at 
 barn-raisings and huskings and at picnics. 
 You worked together on the roads. You 
 exchanged work in haying time. (I do 
 not forget the jug hidden under the hay 
 — to keep it cool, of course — which 
 cheered but did not inebriate, as it most 
 often contained only sweetened water and 
 ginger. What the jugs contained at the 
 " Raisings " I do not know, but I have 
 heard that sometimes something besides 
 the building was raised on these occasions.) 
 Your land must be better than that in 
 many places in Maine where it is said to 
 be so poor that you cannot even raise a 
 disturbance upon it. 
 
 You also got together at Town Meet- 
 ings which, I have lately heard, were not 
 always, in the early days, opened by prayer, 
 but sometimes with a cockscrew. (The 
 county courts used also to be opened by 
 19 
 
prayer. The prayer which one old clergy- 
 man offered at one session was somewhat 
 as follows : " Oh, Lord, wilt thou give 
 the presiding judge the wisdom he so 
 much needs, and overrule all his deci- 
 sions.") 
 
 We used to go together to the cattle 
 shows and " musters " and circuses, we 
 boys going barefooted all the way to 
 Strong to attend them, stopping at the 
 " Dugway " and the " Ledge," to study 
 geology or have a frolic or a scrap. 
 
 And our mothers got together at par- 
 ing-bees and at quiltings. (Was it at one 
 of these that the old lady said she " always 
 came before anybody else and stayed until 
 after everybody else had gone so she 
 would n't be ' backbit ' " ?) 
 
 And there were social parties that 
 brought the voung people together (You 
 could not have a considerable party with- 
 out inviting everybody in town ! ), and sing- 
 
 20 
 
'Br ?^. c i^cati^ 
 
 ing schools and spelling matches, which I 
 personally used to enjoy quite as much as 
 anything. Do you remember how we used 
 to be trained at home and at school for 
 these spelling matches ? Who was the boy 
 who misspelled gone? He persisted in 
 spelling it "g-o-r-n." To punish and 
 correct him, the teacher made him stay 
 after school and write g-o-n-e one hun- 
 dred times on the blackboard. After writ- 
 ing it correctly one hundred times, he 
 drew a line under the columns and wrote; 
 " 4.30 o'clock. I have gorn home." And 
 who was that other boy who said he could 
 never learn to spell, because the teacher 
 kept changing the words every day ! 
 
 Personally, we congratulate you that 
 you have been- obliged to commune with 
 your fellowmen in this close familiarity, to 
 study human nature at first hand, and thus 
 to become more human yourselves ; and 
 we congratulate you even more that you 
 21 
 
have lived near the heart of nature where 
 you are inclined to " look through nature 
 up to nature's God." The older we grow 
 the more sure we are of the truth of the 
 line in our copy-books : " God made the 
 country, and Man made the town." Any 
 man born in the country, who spent his 
 boyhood on the farm, must read with ap- 
 proval a recent article by Mr. Bryan, in 
 which he describes the advantages of a life 
 next the soil. The farmer, he says, is the 
 firm foundation on which all other classes 
 rest. " The farm gives a good founda- 
 tion for mental training. Habits of appre- 
 ciation, of industry, and of thoroughness 
 come naturally in school to the boy who 
 has been trained to farm work." 
 
 Not only does the farm furnish mental 
 athletes for the city, but the average far- 
 mer possesses more information of general 
 value than the average resident of a city. 
 If he has not always read the latest fiction, 
 
 22 
 
T>^ ©♦ €♦ l^eati^ 
 
 or the most sensational criminal news, he 
 has generally read something fully as use- 
 ful. The long evenings of the winter, the 
 rainy days of summer, and the Sabbath 
 days throughout the year give him manv 
 hours for reading, and while at work he 
 has more time for meditation and for the 
 digestion of what he reads than those em- 
 ployed in other kinds of labor. 
 
 He is not afflicted with insomnia, or 
 troubled with nervous prostration. He 
 has the " sound mind in the sound body " 
 which has been sought in every age. 
 
 The farmer learns the true basis of re- 
 wards. He learns to give a dollar's worth 
 of work for a dollar's worth of product. 
 
 The child raised upon the farm has the 
 advantage of steady and useful occupation 
 so necessary to self-respect and to the up- 
 building of manly and womanly charac- 
 ter. As childhood advances toward youth 
 and maturity, the difficulty is to find a 
 23 
 
wise employment of the leisure hours — 
 to give the boy or girl brought up in a 
 limited environment a broad view and a 
 correct perspective of life. In no way can 
 this be so well done as by an acquaintance 
 with good books, entertaining books, even 
 amusing books, but always books written 
 by a master hand in the service of a pure 
 heart and a clear vision. 
 
 Thinking of this need, which was mine 
 when I was a lad here, it has seemed to me 
 that I could not better express my interest 
 in you and my love for my dear old home 
 than by placing in your hands five hundred 
 dollars to be used for the purchase of good 
 books by reputable authors as a nucleus 
 for a Library of permanent value.- And, 
 when you have collected a Library of such 
 size and merit as to demand a special build- 
 ing for housing it, it will be to me an added 
 pleasure to give to this little town of my 
 birth a suitable home for that Library, to 
 24 
 
IBt ©♦ C i^catl^ 
 
 be called " The Charles M. Heath Memo- 
 rial Library," in honor of my brother who 
 was born and reared here, who passed 
 most of his short life in vour midst, and 
 who, when he was married and wished to 
 establish a home of his own, turned to 
 Salem as his choice, — to Salem, "the 
 habitation of peace." 
 
 BORN 
 
 SALEM, MAINE, 
 
 JAN. 26, 1838. 
 
 DIED 
 
 FARMINGTON, MAINE, 
 
 DEC. 31, 1861. 
 
 CHARLES M. HEATH 
 
 25 
 
€)ID i^omc IBav 
 
 Chairman : 
 
 We expected to have with us to-day 
 Charles H. Pease of Holliston, Mass., 
 the son of Albert Pease who formerly 
 lived in the western part of the town, 
 on the road to Phillips. Mr. Pease was 
 to give us some reminiscences concerning 
 that part of Salem. He found, at the last 
 moment, that he was unable to be present, 
 and kindly offered to send us an account 
 of the town written by his father for the 
 Farmington Chronicle in 1862. This inter- 
 esting History really comes first in order 
 of time, and I am going to ask Brother 
 Abel Pottle, whose voice all of you can 
 hear, to read it at this time. Mr. Charles 
 Pease, in sending this copy of the Chroni- 
 cle, said concerning his father: " He was 
 a somewhat peculiar man and old-fash- 
 ioned, but was solicitous for the best inter- 
 ests of mankind, and withal liberal in his 
 views." 
 
 26 
 
ANNALS 
 
 OF THE TOWN OF SALEM, MAINE, 
 
 PREPARED IN 1862 FOR THE FARMINGTON 
 CHRONICLE 
 
 By Albert Pease 
 
 Salem, in the County of Franklin, State 
 of Maine, is a small town, comprising the 
 basin orvalley between Mount 
 Abram and elevated lands ly- 
 ing in Phillips and Freeman. It 
 was taken from the latter towns 
 and the Mount Abram town- 
 ship. It was incorporated in 
 1 823, and was called North Sa- 
 lem, until 1 843, when the name 
 was changed to Salem. The face 
 of the land is very handsome, 
 being mostly level, or gently 
 rolling, or gently declining 
 from the heights above mentioned ; ex- 
 cept the westerly part, which is somewhat 
 27 
 
 ALBERT PEASE 
 
annal0 of ^alem 
 
 broken into hills, interspersed with low 
 intervales, bogs and natural meadows. The 
 soil is a gravelly loam, except the hill slopes 
 and meadows. The original growth was 
 beech, birch and maple ; the second growth, 
 poplar and white birch. The land, on first 
 being cleared, gave abundant returns; and 
 vast quantities of wheat, oats and grass seed 
 have been carried to adjacent towns for sale. 
 And even under the plough, the crops, 
 for a series of years, were very remunera- 
 tive. Nearly the whole area of the town 
 has been cleared, and there is but little 
 land, except in the western part of the 
 town, that is not occupied by farms. But 
 such is the nature of the soil, being quick, 
 warm, and offering no impediments to the 
 plough, that much of the land has been 
 exhausted of its original fertility. Many 
 farms in the western part of the town have 
 been abandoned, and have grown up to 
 bushes ; in many places affording a good 
 28 
 
13^ aibett pta^t 
 
 opportunity for a second clearing. Other 
 tracts are more sparsely occupied by 
 bushes, and afford grass enough if any 
 adequate protection could be had against 
 dogs, to furnish a good range for sheep. 
 There are large tracts that could be bought 
 for a mere trifle, where, but for the risk of 
 dogs, sheep would find a real paradise. 
 
 From the causes above mentioned the 
 population of the town is not as great as 
 it has been at a previous period. — In wan- 
 dering through the bushes, particularly in 
 the western part of the town, one comes 
 suddenly upon the ruins of habitations 
 where once lived a numerous family. 
 Other farms with buildings are tenantless, 
 and one school house stands deserted, be- 
 cause the people for whom it was built, 
 have departed. This town affords a good 
 opportunity for the enterprising and indus- 
 trious, to buy cheap farms, and tracts of 
 unoccupied land. Many farms are to be 
 29 
 
annaljs of ^alem 
 
 sold very cheap that have good buildings. 
 And there are deposits of muck scattered 
 at convenient distances all over the town. 
 Settlements were commenced in what 
 is now the town of Salem, in 1815. The 
 first chopping was made by Benjamin 
 Heath, now living at the village. Mr. 
 Heath was from Farmington. The place 
 where he made his clearing is where Free- 
 dom Richards now lives. Before he moved, 
 however, two others, Israel Doble and 
 Albert Hayford, from Hartford moved 
 into the place, and commenced clearing on 
 the place where James Hackett now lives. 
 Benj. Heath moved in about a year after 
 Doble and Hayford, and soon his father, 
 Benj. Heath, and his brother, Simeon A. 
 Heath, came in and built a saw-mill and 
 gristmill where the village now is. Mr. 
 Heath, 2d, relates that he first felled about 
 thirteen acres of trees, burned his chop- 
 ping, cleared an acre and a half, which he 
 30 
 
I5t Sllbett ^ea^e 
 
 sowed to wheat and barley, and planted 
 the rest of his chopping to corn, among 
 the logs. There came a frost on the ninth 
 day of August and completely destroyed 
 his whole crop. He junked it the next fall 
 and in the spring he changed work with 
 a Mr. Fathergill, who had a clearing in 
 what is now Freeman, and Samuel Church, 
 who was clearing in Salem, and piled their 
 pieces by hand. A misfortune happened, 
 after they had piled the pieces of his two 
 associates. They had piled only one day 
 on Heath's lot, when, one Sunday, they 
 thought they would make some beer. 
 They had a large kettle, and had got their 
 ingredients completely boiled, and Heath 
 and Church were lifting it off the fire, 
 when the bail came out, and scalded 
 Church on the foot so badly that the skin 
 came off with his stocking. Here was a 
 bad case. Fathergill had left, and Heath 
 had to clear his piece alone, Church being 
 31 
 
annalig of ^alcm 
 
 able to do only the cooking. Heath cleared 
 it, however, and got his wheat harrowed 
 in on the 4th day of May. On the day he 
 finished, there came four inches of snow. 
 He had a good crop, averaging 25 bushels 
 to the acre. That year he sold wheat to 
 the people of Farmington. 
 
 Mr. Heath states that while chopping 
 his trees, being at work all alone, he heard, 
 for several days, the sound of some one 
 chopping at a distance. After a while he 
 went to seek his neighbor. When he found 
 him, the latter had just cut his foot so badly 
 that he could not walk, and it was bleeding 
 so as to endanger his life. Heath peeled 
 some alder bark, pounded it up, and bound 
 it on to the wound, thereby stopping the 
 blood. He helped him to his camp, and 
 help coming in the next day, he was car- 
 ried out. His name was Bragdon. He was 
 a deserter from the army and was afterwards 
 taken, carried back, and shot. 
 32 
 
15V ailbert pta^t 
 
 Mr. Doble lived in town till 1858, when 
 he moved to Strong and is living with his 
 son-in-law, not far from the village. While 
 living in town, he cleared the farm lately 
 owned by Jonathan Daggett. He is now 
 72 years old, and relates with much in- 
 terest his experience and vicissitudes in a 
 pioneer life. Before he moved into Salem 
 he lived for about six weeks in Freeman. 
 While there the people of the place had 
 what they call a peace frolic. They burned 
 a great deal of powder and drank a great 
 deal of rum, many getting drunk who 
 never got drunk before. They tried to get 
 the town to pay the bills, and contested in 
 town meeting for that purpose, but with- 
 out success. Those who drank the rum 
 and burned the powder had to pay for it. 
 He states that in the month of February, 
 previous to his moving in, the ground 
 was bare. In March, following, however, 
 there were four feet of snow. Previous to 
 33 
 
9lnnalj3 of talent 
 
 moving, he went in with others to make 
 his clearing, and cut roads, bringing his 
 provisions from Hartford. They went in 
 by the town hne between Phillips and Free- 
 man. This led them into the vicinity of 
 where the village now is, where they began 
 their settlement. While cutting the road, 
 toward nightfall, late in autumn, on a foggy 
 day, they started for their camp. They got 
 lost, and had to stop for the night. They 
 struck fire with a flint and jack knife, catch- 
 ing the spark with a piece of spunk that one 
 of them chanced to have in his pocket. 
 There were four of them, Doble and Hay- 
 ford and Samuel and Daniel Church. Hay- 
 ford and Daniel Church lay down and went 
 to sleep. The others lighted a torch and 
 continued their search for the camp. They 
 soon found a large pine stub, into which 
 they put their torch, and soon had a great 
 fire. They went back and got their com- 
 panions, and spent the night by the stub. 
 34 
 
13^ Albert pta^t 
 
 Next morning they came out where Moody 
 Burbank now lives, in Phillips. They all 
 lost their crops the first season, by the frost 
 on the ninth of August. Next season they 
 had a great fire in the meadow, on the farm 
 where Albert Pease now lives, which swept 
 over a great part of the country. He had a 
 sable line from where James Hackett now 
 lives, extending westerly to what is now the 
 town of Madrid. He went out on this line 
 one cold day in December, when night over- 
 took him. He got some spruce bushes, 
 swept the snow from a space, then lopped 
 spruce together to make a shelter, picked 
 boughs for a bed, and lay down and slept 
 soundly till morning. 
 
 Mr. Hayford is now 77 years old. He 
 is now living in Salem with his son. He 
 raised a large family of fourteen children, 
 his daughter Artemina being the first white 
 child born in the town. All of his children 
 but one lived to grow up, and eleven of 
 35 
 
annals o! ^alcm 
 
 them are yet living. The settlements thus 
 commenced seem to have grown quite 
 rapidly. John Church, with his sons, David 
 and Samuel, moved in shortly after the 
 first settlers. John Church, the father, 
 afterwards moved to Farmington and died 
 there. David seems to have been a some- 
 what prominent man. He was the first 
 town clerk, and the first that went as repre- 
 sentative to the Legislature. He married 
 a daughter of Samuel Blake, Esq., of Phil- 
 lips. He moved from Salem to Phillips, 
 and from thence to Farmington, where he 
 died. Samuel died in Salem, on the place 
 where William Clark now lives; and was 
 buried in Farmington. Daniel Church 
 moved from Farmington with the first 
 settlers. He lived where G. W. Williams 
 now lives; afterwards moved back to Farm- 
 ington and died there. Isaac Clark was one 
 of the first settlers of Salem. He lived on 
 the place where his son, Harrison, nowlives. 
 36 
 
15V ^Ihttt pta^t 
 
 Though close and prudent in conducting 
 his business affairs generally, he was public 
 spirited and generous to the town. He was 
 much in business for the town, and usually 
 charged but 75 cents per day for his ser- 
 vices. In looking over the town records, 
 I find an instance of his being paid two 
 dollars for the privilege of a road passing 
 across his land, a privilege that most people 
 would have charged 25 dollars for. He 
 moved to Hallowell, and died there, aged 
 72. 
 
 Ephraim Nickerson moved into Salem 
 about five years after the first settlers. He 
 lived on the farm where Jeremiah D. 
 Ellsworth now lives. He carried on a large 
 business in the line of clearing land, etc., 
 and was often chosen to do business for 
 the town. He exchanged farms with Wil- 
 liam Ellsworth of Strong, and after living 
 there awhile, moved to the West. 
 
 Paul Robinson, about the same time 
 37 
 
^nnaljs of talent 
 
 moved into the town, and lived on the 
 farm now occupied by Elias Winslow. He 
 raised a large family, and did a great deal 
 of business in raising grain and grass seed. 
 He built a clover mill on the stream near 
 his house, and afterwards at the village. 
 He moved to Wilton, and afterwards to 
 the Western States. 
 
 Robert Blake, a hard-working, thriving 
 man, moved into the town in 1819 from 
 Mt. Vernon. He is living now at the vil- 
 lage; his son, Rufus K., living on the farm 
 where his father lived. 
 
 John Tarr, an early settler, lived on 
 the place where Wm. Seavy now lives ; he 
 died in Salem. 
 
 William Carl, an early settler, lived 
 where Eli Brackley now lives and died in 
 Salem. 
 
 Daniel Graffam was an early settler ; his 
 son Daniel D. is now living on his father's 
 farm. Mr. Graffam died in Salem. 
 38 
 
13^ Albert pta^t 
 
 Eben Briggs moved in about 1825. He 
 died in Salem in 1856. 
 
 Stephen Whitney moved into the place 
 in 1826, died in 1859. 
 
 Joseph Lovejoy moved in in 1826. He 
 dropped dead in the streets of Phillips vil- 
 lage in i860. 
 
 James Taylor, an early settler, lived in 
 the northwestern part of Salem, where 
 John C. Heath now lives. He went to 
 Bangor with a pair of oxen for sale, sold 
 his oxen, put up at the tavern, and was 
 heard from no more. 
 
 Moses Patterson was among the first set- 
 tlers. He cleared a farm in the northeast- 
 erly part of the town, afterwards purchased 
 the mills, and moved to the village, where 
 he now lives. 
 
 Jacob Sweat lived where Joseph Bangs 
 now lives. He was representative to the 
 legislature. 
 
 Nathaniel Richards and John Richards, 
 39 
 
annaljs of ^alem 
 
 brothers, and David Richards, their cousin, 
 moved from Leeds at an early period. 
 These died in Salem, and have numerous 
 descendants living in the town. 
 
 Amos Barker, an early settler, lived 
 where James T. Fulsom now lives. He 
 was killed by a sled loaded with hay passing 
 over him. 
 
 George Carl, an early settler, lived up 
 on the side of Mt. Abram, was sent to the 
 legislature as representative. Report says 
 it spoiled him. He moved away. Other 
 individuals are spoken of as having lived 
 in town at an early period, and as having 
 moved away. 
 
 Daniel Towers, one of the first settlers, 
 sold to Daniel Clark and moved to the 
 Western States. 
 
 David Harlow lived at the foot of Mt. 
 Abram; moved to Strong where he nowlives. 
 
 Eben Collier, lived afterwards in Jay, 
 moved finally to the West. 
 40 
 
QBr aibett pta^t 
 
 Joshua Soule, I think, moved to the 
 West. Others are mentioned by the in- 
 habitants as early settlers, or whose names 
 are found in the early records of the town 
 of whom there is no special account. Among 
 these are Levi Stevens, Peter Gay, Oliver 
 Turner, O. Turner, Jr., John H. Patter- 
 son, Samuel Brown, Dennis Brown, Daniel 
 Clough, Robert Nevins, and Daniel Col- 
 lins, Jr. 
 
 Many are the perils and trials incident 
 to a pioneer life. But attendant on these, 
 there are advantages not enjoyed by older 
 settlements. Benjamin Heath relates that 
 during the first spring he spent in the town, 
 he made two barrels of maple molasses. He 
 also states that he had a payment of I75 to 
 make for his land. He had no means of 
 procuring the money except hunting. He 
 collected a lot of furs, carried them to Nor- 
 ridgewock, and sold them to John Ware. 
 He got his $75 and had four skins left. 
 41 
 
^Innaljs of ^alcm 
 
 One of those accidents so imminent and 
 common in new settlements is related by- 
 Mr. Heath. His sister went, just at night, 
 after the cows and got lost in the woods. 
 She had wandered away into the low 
 grounds, east of where Wm. Witham, 
 Esq., now lives. After much difficulty he 
 found her. But in his anxiety he had lost 
 the bearings and had become lost himself. 
 He hallooed, and not being very far off, 
 was heard and answered at the settlement 
 at the mills. But he was also heard in an- 
 other direction. In this dilemma, he called 
 out with all his might, " Strike with the 
 mill-bar ! " The people caught the sound 
 of " mill-bar," and the sound of iron 
 striking on iron soon led him out. 
 
 When a few families had settled around 
 the mills, they built a log school house, 
 hired a mistress and put a school in opera- 
 tion in the winter. A large boy by the name 
 of David Cressy lived with Simeon A. 
 42 
 
I5t Albert pta^t 
 
 Heath, and went to school. Being imbued 
 with the notion, so current among a cer- 
 tain class of politicians in these days, that 
 " might makes right," he used to amuse 
 himself during the intermissions by plun- 
 ging the scholars into the snow and abusing 
 them generally. The mistress did not dare 
 to meddle with him, the neighbors were 
 loth to interfere, and they were in much 
 trouble. At length, Albert Hayford hav- 
 ing come down to mill, heard an outcry 
 among the scholars. He went out to meet 
 them as they were running in mortal fear 
 from Cressy, some of them bleeding from 
 wounds received from him. Mr. Hayford 
 had a whip stock made of ash-wood, split 
 into strands and braided, and covered with 
 leather. He kept his weapon behind him 
 till getting near enough, he caught Cressy 
 by the collar and gave him a sound thrash- 
 inor with it. No more trouble was had from 
 him in the school. After a number of years 
 43 
 
annaljsJ of ^alem 
 
 Hayford met him at Readfield Corner. 
 In the meantime, Cressy, it seems, had not 
 only grown older but wiser. He greeted 
 Hayford cordially, acknowledged the "lick- 
 ing " to be the best he had ever received, 
 and that it did him good, invited him to 
 drink, according to the custom of the times, 
 and treated him to the best. 
 
 As is quite unusual in such cases, the 
 incorporation of the town was much op- 
 posed. Col. Jewett of Norridgewock, 
 agent for the Mt. Abram Township ; 
 Mr. Abbott, agent of Mr. Phillips of 
 Boston, proprietor of the town of Phillips, 
 and the town of Phillips itself, united to 
 oppose it. By a little adroit management, 
 however, on the part of the petitioners 
 and their friends, the thing was pushed 
 along in the legislature, and when Elder 
 Dyer, whom the town of Phillips had sent 
 to oppose the incorporation of the town, 
 was going down to Augusta, he met David 
 44 
 
15^ aibert i^eajse 
 
 Church with the act of incorporation in 
 his hand. 
 
 At the time of the incorporation of the 
 towns, Jan. 1823, Albion K. Parris was 
 Governor, Daniel Rose President of the 
 Senate, and Benjamin Ames Speaker of 
 the House. The first meeting of the town 
 was called by Samuel Blake, Esq. of Phil- 
 lips. Met at Simeon A. Heath's in April, 
 1823. Joshua Soule was chosen moderator, 
 David Church, clerk ; Ebenezer Collier, 
 Ephraim Nickerson and David Church, 
 Selectmen ; James Taylor and Peter Gay, 
 Tithingmen. They raised ^20 to defray 
 town charges, $400 to support schools. 
 Economy seems to have been a ruling 
 principle with the early townsmen. So 
 late as 1829 the town voted the school 
 money paid in corn and grain. Corn and 
 rye 75 cents per bushel, wheat |i.oo. 
 
 As previously mentioned, Benjamin 
 Heath, ist, with his son Simeon A., moved 
 45 
 
^nnaljs of ^alem 
 
 into the place from Farmington and built 
 a saw mill and grist mill, soon after the 
 first families moved in. Rufus Davis, now 
 of Hallowell, was master workman on the 
 saw mill, and Hattel Braley, of Phillips, 
 on the grist mill. After eight or ten years 
 a freshet carried the mills away. They 
 were rebuilt and sold to a number of men 
 living in Salem. These last sold to John 
 Smith, Esq. of Readfield; who built anew. 
 Solomon Luce of New Vineyard was 
 master workman. During the building 
 the hands boarded with Benj. Heath, 2d. 
 Mrs. Heath had twenty in the family, 
 and did all the work, and her husband 
 sick with rheumatism a part of the time. 
 She died at the age of 62. After this the 
 mills passed through a number of hands, 
 until they were sold to Moses Patterson 
 & Co., the present owners. Patterson & 
 Co. built a starch factory in which they 
 did considerable business for a time. This 
 46 
 
15V aibert pta^t 
 
 is now idle. From the small size of the 
 place, and its isolated position, mercantile 
 pursuits have been Hmited in extent, and 
 fluctuating in duration. Among the many 
 who have traded in the place some have 
 done a good business, but the most have 
 done but a small business. Among those 
 that have traded in the town since its first 
 settlement, the following are the principal : 
 William Heath, Greenleaf Davis, Benj. 
 Eastman, Wm. Dicky, Wallender& Ridge- 
 way, Capt. John Heath, Hiram Wright 
 who had his store and goods burned where 
 Esq. Patterson's house now stands ; then 
 John F. Russ, Heath & Porter, Blake 
 & Porter, Porter, Charles Heath, David 
 Eades, Prescott Newman, Robert Blake, 
 Dudley Briggs, and now, James Dodge, 
 Jr., scarcely ever two at a time, but one 
 succeeding another. 
 
 Blacksmithing has been carried on by 
 Benj. Heath, Daniel Heath now of Farm- 
 47 
 
annal?J of ^alem 
 
 ington, James Dodge, Wm. Lovejoy, and 
 now James Collins. Other branches of man- 
 ufacturing have been carried on to but lim- 
 ited extent, if at all. 
 
 There has never been a meeting house in 
 town, but meetings have been held in dwell- 
 ing houses and school houses, and lately in 
 the town house. There is now a small 
 society of Methodists, one of Free-will 
 Baptists, and one of Universalists, these 
 being the only organized societies ; who 
 each maintain preaching in town ; supported 
 in part by a ministerial fund. An interest- 
 ing feature of the town is the graveyard, 
 situated at a corner of the roads near the 
 center of the town, where repose many of 
 those who leveled the forest, and turned 
 it into a fruitful field. 
 
 Oft did the harvest to their sickles yield ; 
 Their furrow oft the stubborn glebe has broke ; 
 How jocund did they drive their teams afield ; 
 How bowed the woods beneath their sturdy stroke. 
 48 
 
€)lti ipome ©at 
 
 Chairman : 
 
 Benjamin Heath was one of the pioneers 
 of Salem and, as a blacksmith, set up his 
 anvil in the woods. I think his anvil must 
 have been the one referred to when two 
 strangers met at the cross-roads in the 
 woods and one asked the other if he knew 
 where there was a blacksmith shop. "Why, 
 you are in a blacksmith's shop now," was 
 the answer, " but the anvil is three miles 
 away." The grandson of this blacksmith, 
 whose shop was the town of Salem, has 
 lived in Salem all his life and has held many 
 public offices here. He has been asked to 
 prepare a history of the town and has 
 kindly, but reluctantly, consented to do 
 the best he could with the meagre material 
 at hand. His father was also Benjamin 
 Heath, prominent among the early settlers. 
 I refer, of course, to Mr. Walter S. Heath. 
 
 Mr. Heath, in writing me about his 
 History, said : " I have tried to make it 
 49 
 
€>lti i^ome J^av 
 
 as brief as possible and have really cut off 
 the end lest 1 should not leave quite 
 enough room for reminiscences by others. 
 I searched the records of Phillips, Freeman, 
 and Salem to get what I have written and 
 it is all based upon the facts thus gathered. 
 I realize that it is a skeleton rather than a 
 well clothed body, or in other words, it is 
 more of a Chronology than a History. 
 But, such as it is, I give it to you, hoping 
 that in due time we may get material 
 enough to make a fairly complete History 
 of the town with all its people and events." 
 
 50 
 
OF THE TOWN OF SALEM, MAINE 
 By Walter S. Heath 
 
 In 1 8 14 one Benjamin Heath, Jr., a 
 blacksmith from Farmington, came to this 
 section, then known as a part of PhiUips, 
 and selected Lot No. 16 in the 6th Range, 
 upon which he felled several acres of trees. 
 Returning in the fall to his home in Farm- 
 ington, he made his preparations for the 
 next year. In 1815 he again came here 
 accompanied by Albert Hayford and Is- 
 rael Doble of Canton. Heath partially 
 cleared his first chopping, planted it to corn 
 and then felled more trees and built a log- 
 house. Early in the fall a frost killed all 
 his corn, which dulled his courage for a 
 short period, causing him to change his 
 plans for a time. When, recovering from 
 this he took his traps, started for the woods 
 51 
 
13ttef l^ijstot:^ 
 
 upon a hunt, and upon his return had fur 
 enough to pay for his lot. Albert Hayford 
 settled upon Lot 15 Range 6, and Israel 
 Doble upon Lot 15 Range 7, thus bring- 
 ing the three very near together, and for 
 a time these sturdy pioneers' axes could 
 be heard all around the circuit as they felled 
 the lofty maples. 
 
 Albert Hayford was the first to move 
 his family here, in the early part of 18 16, 
 but was followed very closely by Heath 
 and Doble. Later in the same season 
 David and Samuel Church of Farmington 
 came up the spotted line from the Dyar 
 neighborhood. In 18 17, Benjamin Heath, 
 ist, and his son, Simeon A., came and set- 
 tled upon Lot 16 Range 8, and soon built 
 the Heath Mill, so called. 
 
 By this time settlers began to come into 
 the northwest part of Freeman and a town 
 organization was the main topic of con- 
 versation at all public gatherings. The 
 52 
 
isv Walttx ^. i^eat]^ 
 
 first road laid into this section, of which 
 we find any record, was laid by the town 
 of Freeman in 1 8 18, extending from Isaac 
 Mayo's to Paul Robinson's. 
 
 In that part of Salem formerly a part 
 of Freeman, the first settlers were Ebene- 
 zer Collier, Zack Clough, Ephraim Nick- 
 erson, Robert Blake, Isaac Porter, Moses 
 Patterson, Peter Gay, Eben Briggs, Merit 
 Dyar, David Harlow, Oliver Turner and 
 Elijah Heath. 
 
 In that part of Salem formerly a part 
 of Phillips the Heaths, Hayfords, Dobles 
 and Churches were soon followed by Dan- 
 iel Graffam, Abram Tarr, James Taylor 
 and the Carls. 
 
 INCORPORATED AS NORTH SALEM 
 
 In 1 82 1 a petition was in circulation 
 
 for a town to be known as North Salem. 
 
 In the winter of 1822-23 ^^''^ petition, 
 
 headed by Isaac Clark, was presented to 
 
 53 
 
'Brief ipfetorr 
 
 the Legislature and granted in the face of 
 strong opposition from Freeman and Phil- 
 lips. Freeman, having declared strongly 
 in opposition to the incorporation of North 
 Salem, chose a committee of five, viz. : 
 Jonathan Brown, Barnabas Whitney, Si- 
 mon Putnam, Thomas Pennell and John 
 Welcome, to go before the Legislature 
 and oppose it. Phillips also voted to op- 
 pose it. In the House of Representatives, 
 January lo, 1823, the acts of incorpora- 
 tion were approved by Governor Albion 
 K. Parris. From the annals of the Town 
 we glean the following facts : 
 
 In 1823 the total valuation of the Town 
 was $4,362.70. 
 
 First town meeting was called at S. A. 
 Heath's barn. May 10, 1823. 
 
 First board selectmen : Ebenezer Col- 
 lier, Ephraim Nickerson, David Church. 
 First town clerk, David Church. 
 
 These town officers have left a record 
 54 
 
15V Salter ^. l^eat]^ 
 
 of which any Town would be proud. As 
 they were continued in office several years, 
 we believe their services were highly prized. 
 
 First School Board : Robert Blake, 
 S. A. Heath and Oliver Turner. 
 
 Voted that future meetings be called 
 by posting warrant at S. A. Heath's grist 
 mill. 
 
 Whole number of poll tax-payers in 
 1823, S3'^ tax, 1 1.47. 
 
 Houses and barns were valued and taxed 
 separately. Whole number of houses taxed, 
 13 ; valued from 1 10.00 to $45.00. Whole 
 number of barns taxed, 17; valued from 
 $10.00 to $29.00. 
 
 In 1824 the town voted that each sol- 
 dier be allowed twenty cents on his yearly 
 tax to pay for his dinner on muster day. 
 
 In 1825 the town of Salem paid Dan- 
 iel Clough sixty-four dollars for building 
 a bridge at Heath's mill in the town of 
 Phillips in the year 1821. This job was 
 55 
 
ISxid 1$i^totv 
 
 taken by contract of the town of Phil- 
 lips. 
 
 In 1827 another black mark appears 
 against the town of Phillips in the fact 
 that they cheated the little town of Salem 
 out of their proportion of school fund for 
 the year 182,3. 
 
 In 1828 the town voted to raise five 
 dollars to furnish ammunition for her sol- 
 diers on muster days. 
 
 FIRST POST-OFFICE 
 
 In the year 1828a post-office was estab- 
 lished, and Simeon A. Heath appointed 
 post-master. Prior to this time a sort of 
 temporary post-office had been established 
 here for several years, to which mail was 
 brought from Marshall Whitney's at Free- 
 man Centre, the nearest post-office. 
 
 In 1829 school teachers were paid in 
 grain for their services. 
 
 In 1830 and 1831 Peleg Durfey and 
 56 
 
131? Salter ^. l^eatl^ 
 
 Greenlief Davis, on complaint of Samuel 
 Blake of Phillips, were fined for selling 
 liquors, and in 1832 the town voted to pay 
 back the fine. 
 
 In 1830 Oliver Turner, Jr., who was 
 chosen Captain of the first Military Com- 
 pany ever organized in Salem, resigned, 
 and Abram A. Heath was elected August 
 7th; Lieutenant, Abram L. Hammond ; 
 Ensign, Abram Tarr. In 1833 Abram L. 
 Hammond was chosen Captain, Willison 
 Clark, Lieutenant. 
 
 In 1834 North was dropped from the 
 name and the town was called Salem. 
 
 In 1835 Willison Clark was chosen Cap- 
 tain, Joseph Soule, Lieutenant, Charles 
 D. Ellsworth, Ensign. 
 
 In 1835 ^^ ^'"^^ Representative to the 
 Legislature, George Carl, was chosen. 
 
 In 1836 an agitation was begun in favor 
 of a County road from Salem through 
 Redington to the Robert Mann farm on 
 57 
 
13ricf 1$imtv 
 
 Dead River, and a petition was presented 
 to the County Commissioners, who, after 
 viewing the route, denied the petition. 
 
 In 1837 wolves made their appearance 
 in such numbers that the town chose a 
 committee to confer with other towns in 
 devising means to exterminate them. They 
 sucked the blood of many a fat sheep, ate 
 slices of steak from young colts, treed 
 boys, and did lots of other wicked things. 
 The late E. G. Blake of Farmington could 
 truthfully say that the wolves were a terror, 
 having been driven by then up a tree at 
 noonday and there obliged to remain until 
 rescued at 5 p. m. by his father. 
 
 The town voted that its surplus reve- 
 nue be let under the supervision of three 
 directors to persons in town in sums from 
 twenty-five to fifty dollars. 
 
 July 13, 1838, Benj. Heath, Jr., was 
 elected Quarter- Master ; July 24, Daniel 
 Heath was elected Adjutant - General. 
 58 
 
15V Salter ^. l^cat]^ 
 
 1838 Joshua Soule was appointed post- 
 master, and a new mail route established 
 running from Strong to Salem. 
 
 1839. Joshua Soule was elected Re- 
 presentative from Salem District. 
 
 In 1840 Wm. S. Pottle was drowned in 
 the Oliver pond. 
 
 In 1 841 Simeon A. Heath was ap- 
 pointed post-master, and Frederick Rich- 
 ards, Captain of Infantry Co. ; Andrew 
 C. Keen, Lieutenant. 
 
 In 1842 an accident happened to one 
 Abram A. Heath, a soldier, while saluting 
 officers just elected. He lost a hand by 
 the bursting of his gun. This year, 1842, 
 seems to be the most noted year in this 
 town's history, as there were ten couples 
 published, and all parties thereto were 
 residents of Salem at the time. 
 
 1843. John F. Russ was appointed 
 post-master, October 12. First muster 
 held in Salem, September, 1843. 
 59 
 
istitt l^fetorr 
 
 1845. B^"j- B. Bradbury (the notori- 
 ously stubborn juryman, who stood out 
 against eleven others in a certain case tried 
 before them, and was vindicated at the 
 next term of court), was appointed post- 
 master. 
 
 Samuel S, Lambert was chosen Repre- 
 sentative to the Legislature. 
 
 VALLEY ROAD BUILT 
 
 1846. The Valley Road to Strong was 
 built, which was a great convenience to 
 parties who transported lumber and other 
 heavy freight " down river." 
 
 In this year a jolly old school teacher 
 by the name of Towle used to sling the 
 heels of his long-legged boys so high that 
 they would leave their prints in the ceil- 
 ing. 
 
 A starch factory was built by a company 
 consisting of Moses Patterson, Samuel S. 
 Lambert, and Robert Blake. This seemed 
 60 
 
15^ Salter ^. J^cati^ 
 
 to give the town a slight boom for a few 
 years, but in the end was a damage to the 
 land if not to the owners. 
 
 1849. Daniel Heath was appointed 
 post-master. 
 
 1850. Abram iV. Heath was chosen 
 Representative. 
 
 In 1851, Oct. 4, Company H of Rifle- 
 men, First Regiment, was organized. 
 James Davis, Captain ; Daniel Heath, 
 First Lieutenant ; S. S. Lambert, Second 
 Lieutenant. After the completion of this 
 company organization, a band was organ- 
 ized, consisting of eleven pieces, the mu- 
 sic from which we think we can now hear, 
 though we can no longer see those officers 
 and soldiers parade so proudly up and 
 down the streets. 
 
 In 1853 Wm. B. Porter was appointed 
 post-master. 
 
 In 1854 Moses Patterson was ap- 
 pointed post-master. Old Master Cush- 
 61 
 
OBrief "i^imtv 
 
 man taught a private school in the Mills 
 District. Had a leather pocket in his vest 
 in which he carried his snufF, frequently 
 taking it out between his thumb and fin- 
 gers and throwing it at his nose, as the 
 pitcher throws the ball ; but as his hand 
 was a little unsteady, he occasionally 
 dropped large bunches upon the floor, 
 which was a bad practice, as all the girls, 
 now old maids, got in the habit of follow- 
 ing him around to take snuff and have not 
 wholly forgotten the practice vet. 
 
 1855. Occurred the most destructive 
 freshet ever known in Salem, destroying 
 roads and bridges, and carrying away the 
 saw-mill, a blacksmith shop, and upsetting 
 the grist-mill and ruining the starch factory. 
 
 1855. Daniel Heath fearing damage 
 by the flood takes his familv upon his 
 back through water 2 ft. deep to a place 
 of safety and Wm. B. Porter also removed 
 his family and all his household goods in 
 62 
 
15V falter ^. l^eatl) 
 
 great haste from their home. Luckily how- 
 ever the flood soon subsided and their 
 homes were left but slightly damaged. 
 
 1857. Jeremiah Porter was appointed 
 post-master, and Abel Pottle chosen Re- 
 presentative. He carried a petition, signed 
 by a large majority of Salem tax-payers, 
 before the Legislature asking the right to 
 turn the Quick Stream. Petition granted, 
 and the stream turned the following year, 
 which proved to be a great saving to the 
 town in repairs of roads and bridges. 
 
 TOWN HOUSE 
 
 1858. Town House built by contract 
 by Cyrus J. Ellsworth. The first service 
 ever held in this house was the funeral of 
 Benjamin Heath, Jr. Sermon by Rev. 
 Ezra Winslow, July 8, 1858. 
 
 i860. Small-pox breaks out in Salem, 
 but luckily is confined to one family in 
 which but one case proves fatal. 
 63 
 
I3rief "^imtv 
 
 1 86 1. The diphtheria becomes epi- 
 demic, and upwards of thirty deaths 
 within the year result, mostly among 
 those under twenty-one years of age. 
 Moses Patterson appointed post-master. 
 
 1862. The last military organization 
 effected in Salem, with Charles Clayton, 
 Captain ; W. S. Heath, Lieutenant. 
 
 1863. Daniel Graffam appointed post- 
 master, but moved from town before being 
 commissioned. 
 
 1864. George W. Mills appointed 
 post-master. Salem furnished twenty-three 
 soldiers for the Civil War, only ten of 
 whom ever returned home. 
 
 1865. Again the tide of emigration 
 turns westward and several families turn 
 their faces that way. Joseph Bangs chosen 
 Representative. 
 
 May 2, 1 870, Benj. Heath, the first pio- 
 neer of Salem dies at the age of 82 years 
 7 months. 
 
 ■ 64 
 
15V Salter ^, l^catl^ 
 
 1877. The most destructive fire ever 
 known in Salem destroys the home of 
 Geo. W. Mills together with some stock. 
 
 1 884. The last surviving petitioner for 
 the incorporation of Salem, Daniel W. 
 GrafFam, passes away at the age of 91 
 years and 5 months; just prior to the ad- 
 vent of the railroad in which he was so 
 much interested. 
 
 THE OLD RED SCHOOL HOL^L- 
 
 65 
 
€>lt) i^ome ^av 
 
 Chairman : Now let us take a drink 
 from the " Old Oaken Bucket " and make 
 it a refreshing loving-cup. 
 9. Singing — The Old Oaken Bucket — 
 
 How dear to my heart are the scenes ot my childhood. 
 
 When fond recollection presents them to view! 
 The orchard, the meadow, the deep tangled wildwood, 
 
 And every loved spot which my infancy knew. 
 The wide spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it. 
 
 The bridge and the rock where the cataract fell. 
 The cot of my father, the dairy house nigh it. 
 
 And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket. 
 The moss-covered bucket that hung in the well. 
 
 That moss-covered bucket I hail as a treasure. 
 
 For often at noon when returned from the field 
 I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure. 
 
 The purest and sweetest that nature can yield. 
 How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing. 
 
 And quick to the white pebbled bottom it fell. 
 Then soon with the emblem ot truth overflowing. 
 
 And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 66 
 
9it ^alcm 
 
 How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it. 
 
 As, poised on the curb, it inclined to my lips! 
 Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it, 
 
 Tho' filled with the nectar that Jupiter sips. 
 And now, far removed from the loved habitation, 
 
 The tear of regret will intrusively swell. 
 As fancy reverts to my father's plantation, 
 
 And sighs for the bucket that hung in the well. 
 
 Chorus. ' 
 
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket. 
 The moss-covered bucket that hung in the well. 
 
 Chairman : I had an acquaintance with 
 Charley Bangs, not here only, but also 
 at the Academy at Farmington, and later 
 at Lewiston when we roomed together 
 preparing for college. During this inti- 
 mate acquaintance, I learned of his poetic 
 temperament and, after seeing a poem of 
 his in the Chronicle a few years ago, on an 
 Old Home Week, I had no hesitation in 
 asking him to prepare a poem for Salem's 
 Old Home Day. 
 
 67 
 
POEM 
 
 By Charles H. Bangs of Everett, Mass. 
 
 We 've come to-day to greet old friends, 
 
 In this, our native town. 
 But Time has kept his score with us 
 
 And Age has chalked it down. 
 In silvering hair and wrinkles' trace. 
 
 We can but ill disguise; 
 Yet soon forget when warm, clasped 
 hands 
 Are backed by welcoming eyes. 
 And lips recall those bygone days 
 
 Which rouse some youthful thrill. 
 Till trooping scenes, marched in re- 
 view. 
 Our thoughts and mem'ries fill. 
 
 Now we've come back, who've long 
 CHARLES H. BANGS bccn gone 
 
 In quest of bread, or eke renown, 
 And homage pay to those who stay 
 
 To guard the dear old town. 
 While not for strangers here, alone 
 Have welcoming bells been rung, 
 
 68 
 
15V Cljarlcjs J^. laangji 
 
 And stories told of days of old 
 
 And sweet old songs been sung: 
 But first, to-day, to square the score 
 
 On which old Time 's intent; 
 We '11 whirl his dial back on him 
 
 Till every wheel and cog is bent; 
 For well we know how he deceives; 
 
 (So often to our sorrow.) 
 He holds in check our joys, to-day. 
 
 And slyly hints, to-morrow. 
 Till we, long since, have wisely grown 
 
 Distrustful of his capers; 
 He may be, e'en while marching on. 
 
 Now making out our papers. 
 But as we turn his dial back. 
 
 For fifty years, about. 
 When every waking hour of ours 
 
 Seemed filled with laugh or shout. 
 We wonder now with all our souls. 
 
 Why we 'd no thought to linger. 
 Instead of rushing gaily on 
 
 At beckon of his finger. 
 'T is true enough, in those old days 
 
 He treated us more kindly. 
 But that was just his artful game 
 
 69 
 
potm 
 
 That we might follow blindly; 
 Since, when he has us in his power, 
 
 (You know our pitiful cases.) 
 Right grimly now he guides the plough 
 
 That 's furrowing up our faces. 
 But though we 're bound behind his wheel. 
 
 To-day, we '11 slip the tether. 
 And roaming back like children tired. 
 
 Beneath the old roof gather. 
 And hear from those dear lips, long dumb. 
 
 The mother's crooning song; 
 Sweet tones, that wooed in childhood's days 
 
 To slumbers deep and long. 
 Shall all the burdening years dispel 
 
 With that same magic wand. 
 Which wrought in yore its spell o'er us 
 
 And echoes yet from mem'ry land. 
 And so in dreams of youth restored, 
 
 We '11 pass the welcome night; 
 And dreaming still, at dawn we '11 find 
 
 Youth's world, with rose tints bright. 
 Soft curls replace the locks of gray. 
 
 Dimples, the wrinkles' traces ; 
 The mask of age is laid aside 
 
 For one-time youthful faces. 
 
 JO 
 
I3t Ci^atlejs 1$. I3angj2i 
 
 Again we hear the father's voice. 
 
 As sounds his mornLng call. 
 That summons us to task or school ; 
 
 The children, one and all. 
 Who, gathering 'round the breakfast board. 
 
 Partake the morning fare. 
 Joint product of the father's toil. 
 
 The mother's frugal care. 
 
 And now, once more in youthful glee 
 
 Our pattering feet shall find 
 The pleasant paths whereon they trod. 
 
 The early joys, long left behind. 
 Time's touch is now with gentle hand. 
 
 As in those days of yore. 
 And fancy paints in old-time hues 
 
 The earth and skies once more. 
 The silver lining of the cloud 
 
 Is turned full face our way. 
 While joyous shout comes bubbling out 
 
 To greet the dawning day. 
 The lowing kine with sounding bell 
 
 Salutes our listening ears. 
 And seems like some lost melody 
 
 From out the distant years. 
 
 71 
 
potm 
 
 And now again, our eyes behold 
 
 The school-house at the line,' 
 Where first we learned, with A-B-C, 
 
 To delve in knowledge's mine. 
 Likewise, the same schoolmaster ^ 
 
 Who greets us here to-day. 
 Had then, at times, as he has now, 
 
 A most persuasive way ; 
 But we '11 forgive his rod of birch 
 
 With which he rammed home lore, 
 And meekly stand with jackets tanned. 
 
 To feel like boys once more. 
 Yet there's one lesson he ne'er taught ; 
 
 Of full content we lack, 
 
 ' This was a log school-house on my father's farm, four or five 
 rods from the Barker farm, on the old road some thirty rods north 
 of the present one, where it now crosses the line. My recollec- 
 tion of this time is not very distinct, and the most marked was the 
 fact that one of the larger boys made and presented me with a 
 small board hand-sled, thus showing that the seeds of knowledge 
 were planted deep and those of pleasure near the surface. 
 
 ^ This is "poetic license," since I do not remember the 
 teacher. Also the Hon. Joel Wilbur, who so ably entertained us 
 at the Old Home meeting, is faithfully represented when I speak 
 of his persuasive ability ; and sadly out of character with a rod in 
 hand : but I am taking him as the representative of the school- 
 master of that date. 
 
 72 
 
I3r Ci^arlejs 1^* I3an80 
 
 For the eyes of youth look forward. 
 
 As those of age turn back. 
 We envy, now, the larger boys ; 
 
 E'en wish that we were men. 
 We sigh for cares, that bring gray hairs ; 
 
 So foolish were we then. 
 Whose care-free eye could watch the skies 
 
 Where rainbow colors blend. 
 To madly seek with eager feet. 
 
 False treasure at its end. 
 
 But we have had our wish to-day. 
 
 So we won't moralize. 
 But hasten 'round 'mongst old time scenes 
 
 We now know how to prize. 
 We would, indeed, for this review. 
 
 The hours prolong, the moments stay ; 
 While all the vanished joys of youth 
 
 Were crowded in a single day. 
 But Time, 'gainst whom we 've filed complaint. 
 
 Grants us at least one favor; 
 He sifts from life its bitterness. 
 
 And leaves the pleasant flavor. 
 So, when I speak of early days. 
 
 And mention joy and pleasure, 
 
 73 
 
Potm 
 
 Don't think they raised in this old town 
 
 Mere gentlemen of leisure. 
 For those were strenuous times, indeed ; 
 
 Each day full marked with duty. 
 Here, every boy was trained for use. 
 
 Not ornament nor beauty. 
 The girls, likewise, lined up for work ; 
 
 (We 'd then no laws 'gainst labor) 
 'T was more in vogue to wash and bake 
 
 Than gossip with a neighbor. 
 So thus our holidays were rare. 
 
 And work-days steady diet ; 
 Yet still, we had our share of fun. 
 
 Not always staid or quiet. 
 For when it rained too hard to work. 
 
 We 'd ofttime go a-fishing ; 
 Down through the stream, knee deep we'd 
 wade. 
 
 No better path were wishing. 
 And though the rain streamed down our backs 
 
 In torrents like a flood. 
 It simply added to our zest; 
 
 It never chilled our blood. 
 And when the brook, beneath some tree 
 
 Would form a crystal pool 
 
 74 
 
Our peering eyes would see a trout 
 
 In its limpid waters, cool. 
 Whose length of spotted beauty seemed 
 
 (Half hidden 'neath a root) 
 To our excited vision. 
 
 To measure more 'n a foot. 
 
 O glorious hour of youth ! 
 
 'Tis thine, a golden prize. 
 When hopes and joys, as well as fish. 
 
 Seemed thrice their natural size; 
 And though the glamour 'bout the fish 
 
 May hold me still in thrall. 
 Some hopes I held in those old days 
 
 Have shrunk up mighty small. 
 But then, we're busy, all life's course. 
 
 Adjusting hopes anew. 
 Or finding ones to fit in place 
 
 Of those we 've proved untrue. 
 Perhaps, in part, this helps explain 
 
 The ingenuous joys of youth; 
 Each black cloud, then, seemed false omen. 
 
 The halo burst above it, truth. 
 But hark ! what are those sounds we hear ? 
 
 The muffled tramp of feet. 
 
 75 
 
Potm 
 
 'T is Salem's old militia guard 
 
 Now marching up the street. 
 To roll of drum, and fife's shrill tone. 
 
 Give mem'ry now full sway; 
 And stand, please, at attention. 
 
 They 're marching past this way: 
 For all are there, in rank or file. 
 
 Each old-time face we knew ; 
 How gladly would we 'compass earth 
 
 To greet them once anew. 
 And here, they 're coming into sight. 
 
 With steady march and tread ; 
 Their eyes to front, their forms erect. 
 
 The Captain at their head. 
 And now, they 're wheeling into line 
 
 To offer us salute, 
 With motions military still; 
 
 The orders, though, are mute. 
 For of that goodly company 
 
 Of eighty men or more. 
 There's left, this side the Great Divide, 
 
 But scarcely three or four.' 
 
 ' I was informed at the meeting, by Mr. Sumner Lovejoy, who 
 again played the fife, accompanied by drums, immediately after the 
 reading of these lines, that so far as he was aware, he was the only 
 
 76 
 
115^ €\)av\t^ i^» I3an9js 
 
 Now, while they 're standing here in line, 
 
 With weapons at " prese/U," 
 Let all well scan each silent man. 
 
 While reverent heads are bent. 
 To these, our fathers loyal proved. 
 
 To State and friends most true. 
 Who 've gathered here to greet us now 
 
 In this, their last review. 
 But now, once more, we '11 change the vein. 
 
 For this is History's art. 
 To tell of deeds and acts long past: 
 
 Mine is the lighter part. 
 And orators and speakers, all. 
 
 Forgotten tales have told. 
 Recalling to our mind once more. 
 
 Full many a deed of old. 
 And one has welcomed us in speech. 
 
 But all have clasped our hand 
 
 living representative of Salem's old Militia Company. It seems 
 to me rather a remarkable coincidence that an arrangement was 
 made that the fife and drum should be played, entirely without the 
 knowledge of the writer of these lines, till after they were read ; and 
 the nature of the lines was entirely unknown to the Committee 
 of Arrangement, previous to their reading ; and that one of the 
 trio furnishing this reminder of Salem's military days should be 
 the only surviving member of the old Company. 
 
 77 
 
potnx 
 
 With depth of fulsome earnestness. 
 
 To meet each heart's demand. 
 But this has all been answered well 
 
 By one who knows the art; 
 Began, in fact, in early life. 
 
 To practice for the part. 
 'T is meet that roya/ welcome's answer be 
 
 ^j prince among good fellows; 
 He learned to blow, long years ago,' 
 
 His father's blacksmith bellows. 
 
 For this brief day, we 're boys at play. 
 
 But Time now claims his own. 
 And marshals us in line once more. 
 
 Who 've gray and wrinkled grown. 
 So we '11 fall in and catch the step. 
 
 This hope our flag at fore. 
 That when we land, no bigot hand 
 
 Has closed the open door. 
 
 ' This seems my only chance to get back at my old friend, 
 Collamore, who has possessed all his life a great faculty of making 
 firm friends. Another faculty he seems to possess is that of es- 
 timating their ability, about as we estimate the size of the fish that 
 broke our line, and then getting them to try to live up to it. This 
 accounts for these lines, which I am inflicting upon the good old 
 friends of my boyhood days in Salem. 
 
 78 
 
Music : Fife, Sumner Lovejoy ; 
 
 Drum, G. A. Page, Kingfield. 
 Chairman : 
 
 Among the Salem families that have 
 made their mark in the world, none has been 
 more prominent than the Pottle family. 
 We are fortunate in having with us to-day 
 Abel, who has been and still is an honored 
 clergyman, and George, who has been hon- 
 ored by his neighbors with an election to 
 the mayoralty of Lewiston, his present 
 home, and is also one of the State assessors. 
 I have forgiven them that their father (a 
 Republican) once defeated mine (a Demo- 
 crat) in an election to the legislature, and I 
 have at the same time almost forgiven the 
 boys that they beat me in the spelling 
 matches. So they can be perfectly free to 
 speak of these things in the memories they 
 will now give of the Eastern part of the 
 town, which extends from the Centre Bridge 
 to the Kingfield line. 
 79 
 
SOME MEMORIES 
 
 OF THE EASTERN PART OF THE TOWN 
 By Hon. George Pottle 
 
 Dear Friends : — It would be impos- 
 sible for me to express in words the satis- 
 faction it gives me to meet you all on this 
 occasion ; here in the beautiful valley of 
 good old Salem, surrounded on every hand 
 by objects that suggest the scenes and 
 events of other days. 
 
 First of all, I wish to express my grati- 
 tude to Collamore Heath, as we used to 
 call him, the original and chief promoter 
 of this reunion, and I desire to include all 
 others who have cooperated with him in 
 making all arrangements for a successful 
 meeting. With them it has been a labor 
 of love, and they deserve our heartfelt 
 thanks. 
 
 It is now thirty-eight years, more than 
 80 
 
15^ l$on. cta^eorge J^ottle 
 
 a generation, since I left my home in this 
 town, as a boy, to make my own way in the 
 world and work out my own destiny, and 
 as the remaining members of our family 
 removed hence a few years later, I have not 
 kept in close touch with the town, with its 
 affairs, and with its people, as 
 I otherwise might have done. 
 It is true I have been here 
 frequently ; have made yearly 
 visits ; but they have been 
 hurried trips ; a ride over 
 through our old school dis- 
 trict, past the little red school- 
 house where manv of the most 
 precious hours of my early life 
 were spent, and farther on to 
 the spot where stood our old 
 homestead, to look for the few familiar 
 landmarks remaining there ; and then re- 
 turning to vonder burial ground to stand 
 by the graves of father and mother, of 
 8i 
 
 GEORGE POTTLE 
 
^omc i^cmorieiS 
 
 brothers and sisters, — all of blessed 
 memory. 
 
 I do not know that I can recall much 
 that occurred in that portion of the town 
 that may interest you. It was a narrow 
 horizon which surrounded that little neigh- 
 borhood. " The annals of our lives were 
 short and simple." There was the regular 
 routine of seed-time and harvest, common 
 to all rural communities ; the endless chain, 
 the plodding work upon the farm. We 
 had few amusements. There were no trav- 
 eling libraries in those days, and the few 
 books and weekly newspapers we had 
 were read and re-read until we almost 
 knew them by heart. The events of the 
 year were largelv a repetition of the history 
 of the year before, and of other years. 
 " And thus they kept the noiseless tenor 
 of their way." There were few families 
 in the neighborhood, but most of them 
 contained large groups of children. No 
 82 
 
15^ i^on» (George l^ottle 
 
 happier homes existed anywhere than 
 those in the eastern part of Salem. I can 
 recall most of the older residents in those 
 days. Besides my father, Abel Pottle, I 
 can recall William Ellsworth, Ebenezer 
 Briggs, Eben Briggs, Robert Blake, Rufus 
 K. Blake, Colonel James Davis, Jeremiah 
 D. Ellsworth, Thomas Leadbetter, Har- 
 rison Clark, Bartlett Lovejoy, Thomas 
 Whittier, Samuel Perry, Hamilton Re- 
 cords and Robert Mann. One by one 
 they have all passed to the great beyond. 
 Their children are scattered far and wide, 
 working out their own destiny in different 
 sections of the country. 
 
 To-day, a trip through the old school 
 district, once prosperous, now desolate, is 
 a melancholy journey to one who lived 
 there in those earlier and better days. 
 Mount Abram alone retains all the beauty 
 of its youth. 
 
 But the golden days of my earlier life 
 83 
 
^ome jHemorfejs 
 
 were the school days. Those hours I 
 spent in the little red school-house. Look- 
 ing forward to the ten or twelve weeks of 
 the winter term lightened the burden of 
 the wearisome toil on the farm in summer. 
 I remember the school teachers of those 
 days better than any one else. My first 
 teacher at the summer term was Carrie F. 
 Nash, a gifted and accomplished young 
 woman. Her relatives, with whom she 
 lived when here, removed from the town 
 a few years later, and I have not had the 
 privilege of meeting her since, until to- 
 day. I rejoice that her voice will be heard 
 in these exercises. 
 
 My teacher at the first winter term I 
 attended was Sara May, whom some of 
 you no doubt knew in her lifetime. In 
 mind and heart, she was one of the noblest 
 young women I have ever known. She 
 became eminent as an educator, and after 
 a long and useful career was summoned 
 84 
 
13^ 1$om d^eotge ^Bottle 
 
 to her reward. Another and a most excel- 
 lent teacher was Peninnah Davis, a resi- 
 dent of the school district. Many of you 
 no doubt remember the pleasant home 
 of her father, Colonel Davis, under the 
 shadow of Mount Abram. Her discipline 
 was very strict and exacting — unreasona- 
 bly so, I then thought, but since my school 
 days are over, looking backward, I honor 
 her for the fact that she held us strictly to 
 our studies and made us walk in the way 
 we should go. 
 
 Another most efficient teacher was 
 Walter S. Heath. He was born here, has 
 lived among you a respected citizen all his 
 days, and is one whose later years have 
 been embittered and saddened by the loss 
 of his three beloved children. I think we 
 should all express our thanks to him for 
 the able and interesting review of the his- 
 tory of the town which he has given us 
 to-day. 
 
 85 
 
^ome pitmotit^ 
 
 I will mention only one more, William 
 C. Winter of Kingfield, who taught our 
 school in the winter of '6i, preceding the 
 Civil War. He was a most interesting 
 young man, and quite well informed re- 
 garding our country's history. He used 
 to talk with us much out of school hours, 
 and I verily believe I learned more in that 
 way than I did studying my books in 
 school hours. After the close of the term 
 Mr. Winter secured a position in Lewis- 
 ton, and some months later, during the 
 year, enlisted in the army of the Union. 
 After honorable service he returned home 
 shattered in health, soon to die. Lieut. 
 William C. Winter is inscribed on our 
 Soldiers' Monument in Lewiston among 
 the names of those who gave their lives 
 in defense of the liberties of our Coun- 
 try. 
 
 When I was a boy I often used to re- 
 gret that my lot was cast in that quiet 
 86 
 
15^ l^on^ (Btot^c pottlt 
 
 neighborhood. I often compared, with 
 feelings of sorrow and considerable envy, 
 the meagre privileges which I enjoyed, 
 with those in reach of boys in villages and 
 in the larger centres of population. But 
 as I have grown older and have learned 
 more of the practical problems of life, and, 
 perhaps, see with a broader vision, I do 
 not consider it a handicap or misfortune 
 that one's early years are spent in a rural 
 community. A few years ago I read in 
 the Boston Herald a list of the higher 
 salaried teachers, those occupying the most 
 responsible positions in the public schools 
 of Boston, schools conceded to be unex- 
 celled in this country. Can you guess how 
 many in that long list were Boston boys, 
 or were educated in the schools of Boston ? 
 Only five ! 
 
 " Where did they come from ? " you may 
 ask. A large portion of them came from 
 small towns in Maine, New Hampshire, 
 87 
 
^ome jEemor(ej3 
 
 Vermont and Massachusetts. Many of 
 them could be traced back to the farm 
 where in the school of experience they 
 acquired a genius for labor, where they 
 learned the lessons of industry and thrift ! 
 of patience, of self-reliance, of self denial ! 
 indispensable qualifications in the achieve- 
 ment of a useful and successful career. 
 
 One of them I knew. He was born and 
 reared on a farm down in my own county 
 of Androscoggin. His early life was not 
 unlike that of other farmers' boys. When 
 he was old enough he had to drive the 
 team to plough, dig potatoes, milk cows 
 and saw wood. He had to perform all the 
 wearisome tasks that most farmers' boys 
 have to perform. He went to the public 
 schools, and later a few terms to an acad- 
 emy. But he never saw the inside of a 
 college. He could not afford that. But 
 he had a good head, a good mind, a good 
 principle. He had the right kind of am- 
 
13^ f oit dBitorge i^ottle 
 
 bition ! he had a genius for educational 
 work, and he advanced rapidly, and at the 
 time of which I speak he was principal 
 of one of the largest Grammar schools of 
 Boston, with a large corps of teachers and 
 one thousand pupils under his charge. 
 Now, there was nothing unusual in the 
 career of this farmer's boy. His history 
 can be duplicated in the lives of thousands 
 of New England farmers' sons. You will 
 find them at the front in almost every 
 State, in every occupation in life and first 
 and foremost in every good work. Genius, 
 no less surely than mediocrity, finds its 
 level, and so I say that the farmers' boys 
 have no cause for repining. There are 
 greater possibilities in the future for them 
 than for the petted sons of city homes. 
 
 My friends, the Hampdens, the Mil- 
 tons, the Cromwells, are not all in the 
 country church-yard laid. In every part of 
 our land in the quiet homes of the Coun- 
 89 
 
^ome iHcmovicjs 
 
 try-side, are thousands of boys, only lack- 
 ing, only waiting for, the magic touch of 
 opportufiity. " Let not ambition mock 
 their useful toil ; their homely joys." Op- 
 portunity may not come to them all, but 
 to many of them it surely will come if they 
 are only ready to seize it. 
 
 From the ranks of such as these come 
 the men who have fought our Country's 
 battles, and have defended our flag upon 
 the seas. They have been our bulwark of 
 defense in time of danger, and when the 
 storms and the clouds of strife have passed 
 away, no less potent than in war, they have 
 constituted the great conservative forces 
 of peace and good citizenship. 
 
 From the ranks of such as these have 
 come presidents, and governors ; legisla- 
 tors and judges. From their ranks have 
 come the shining lights of the pulpit and 
 the bar. They have sent forth authors, 
 poets, artists, musicians, our leaders in 
 90 
 
education, our leaders in journalism, our 
 leading business men, our captains of in- 
 dustry. They have contributed the fore- 
 most men in every sphere of human ac- 
 tivity. 
 
 With such as these, the future of our 
 Country's progress and our Country's 
 greatness is secure. 
 
 With such as these, the gentle spirit of 
 our civilization will move onward, broad- 
 ening its sphere of usefulness and extend- 
 ing its beneficent influence to all the peo- 
 ples of the earth. 
 
 91 
 
SOME MEMORIES 
 
 OF THE EASTERN PART OF THE TOWN 
 By Rev. Abel W. Pottle 
 
 My brother George in his address has 
 so completely covered this theme that 
 there is little left for me to say. I was 
 born on September 2,3, 1834, — so that 
 my memory goes back near threescore 
 years and ten. 
 
 The eastern part of the town included 
 the school district, extending from the 
 Centre Bridge to Freeman line. In my 
 early days this was considered the most 
 flourishing part of the town, and sustained 
 a school of fifty to sixty scholars. The 
 farms were large and well cultivated. Land 
 was cleared of the native forests and new 
 and fruitful fields opened up. In those 
 days the barns were well filled. Large 
 92 
 
:Br met. abel W. pottlt 
 
 herds of cattle and flocks of sheep were 
 raised. A large surplus of farm products 
 such as wheat, oats, peas, and grass seed, 
 were sold in our nearest market, Hallowell, 
 sixty miles away. In the winter the farm- 
 ers would load up their pungs, lay in a 
 stock of cooked food, and make the jour- 
 ney, sell their products, make their pur- 
 chases for their families and on the third 
 day reach home. Nearly all the farmers 
 in those days were well to do and reared 
 large families, from ten to fifteen children 
 in each home. The neighbors lived in 
 harmony and seemed to enjoy life. 
 
 Let me review the families of that 
 school district, commencing with my own 
 home. My father, Abel Pottle, owned a 
 farm of nearly three hundred acres, with 
 three large barns usually filled to the ridge 
 pole. He had the distinction of raising 
 the first barn in town without rum. My 
 mother gave birth to fourteen children. 
 93 
 
^ome pitnxotit^ 
 
 Two died in infancy. Two died in early 
 childhood of scarlet fever. William was 
 drowned at i6 years of age in 1840. War- 
 ren died at 19 in 1856. Almira married 
 David Fales and died at the age of 2^' 
 My sister Mary at the age of 78 is now 
 living. My brother Jeremiah lived to be 
 over 70 years and died in Strong. Wil- 
 liam Henry went west, engaged in the 
 dry goods business, and died two years 
 ago at the age of 60 in Arkansas City, 
 Kansas. My brother Charles is in Da- 
 kota and James Cyrus resides in Fresno, 
 Cal. My respected father was one of the 
 honored men of the town, serving several 
 years on the board of selectmen, as super- 
 visor of schools, and one term as Repre- 
 sentative in the State Legislature. He 
 died at the age of 73 years. 
 
 Over the way lived my uncle, William 
 Ellsworth. He raised a large family, and 
 was a successful, well-to-do farmer. All 
 94 
 
15V ^et). abel W. ^aottle 
 
 but one went west, and only one is now 
 living, the youngest daughter, Mahala 
 Pottle Ellsworth, who married Benjamin 
 Peabody. She is with us to-day, having 
 come all the way from their home at St. 
 Charles, Minn. Our next door neighbor 
 was Joseph Lovejoy. One of his sons, 
 Marcellus, now 80 years old, resides here 
 in town and is with us to-day. Then next 
 lived George Briggs, who had three sons, 
 Eben, Dudley, and George, and several 
 daughters. They were respectable people 
 and good neighbors. 
 
 Going on from "Uncle" Briggs we 
 come to the Porter place, the grandsons 
 of whom, Charles and Florian, are with 
 us to-day. Nearly opposite lived Robert 
 Blake. He lived in a brick house, and 
 was a good farmer. He was well educated 
 for those days and served several terms as 
 supervisor of schools. He had several 
 daughters. His sons were, Rufus, now 
 95 
 
^ome jHemonejS 
 
 living in Farmington at 86 years of age ; 
 Eldbrldge, William, Daniel, Robert, Lo- 
 renzo and John. I can remember when 
 James C. Davis came to town and pur- 
 chased land up under Mount Abram. 
 His wife's father, Mr. Norton, lived fur- 
 ther up on the mountain. He had two 
 sons. Andrew is with us on this occasion. 
 Tristam lives in the West. Then the girls 
 were Sarah, Olive, Peninnah and Fidelia. 
 Down near the old schoolhouse lived 
 William Ellsworth, the brother of my 
 grandfather. There were at this time so 
 many William Ellsworths that they were 
 distinguished in this manner — " Old 
 Bill," " Long Bill," " Little Bill," and 
 " Whistling Bill." Between this place and 
 the school house lived a Mr. Vinvng, a 
 shoemaker, with a hair lip. Beyond the 
 school house we come to the new home 
 of Isaac Clark, a young man who com- 
 menced his married life here. He was the 
 96 
 
13^ met. abel m pottlt 
 
 son of old " Squirere " Clark and brother 
 of Wilson and Harrison Clark. He sub- 
 sequently sold out to one Robert Mann, 
 an Irishman with two maiden sisters. Here 
 they lived and died. 
 
 Then we come to the Squire Clark place, 
 located in the corner. This house and 
 outbuildings in my day were kept up in 
 good repair, and to my boyish eye it was 
 a palatial residence. Then coming on to- 
 ward the bridge we come to the residence 
 of Harrison Clark. Here was a large fam- 
 ily and a comfortable home. Only one of 
 this family remains, Aphadilla, now resid- 
 ing in Salem and with us to-day. One 
 daughter of Wilson Clark, Dorcas, from 
 the far west, is here present on this occa- 
 sion. Then there was the Lovejoy family, 
 Bartlett, Sumner, and others. I remem- 
 ber Sumner, and am glad to meet him 
 here to-day, and to know that he is tl^ full 
 of music as ever. Then there was Frank 
 97 
 
^ome jmentotiejs 
 
 Wood and John Collins, I remember, and 
 possibly others. They are not with us. In 
 all that territory which I have scanned in 
 these remarks, and where once there was a 
 large flourishing school, there is not to-day 
 a living inhabitant. The school-house, the 
 yard, the building are all gone, and the 
 people are all gone. So it is : " Passing 
 away " is written on all things here below. 
 May we all attain to that city which hath 
 foundations, whose builder and maker is 
 God. 
 
 98 
 
€>lti l^ome ®a^ 
 
 Note : When Mr. George E. Dodge gave some 
 reminiscences of the Dodge family, he expressed regret 
 that the family had not had more mention in the histories 
 and reminiscences given by others. Mr. Dodge was 
 written to for a copy of his remarks to be put into this 
 volume, but, not hearing from him, the committee has 
 been obliged to go to press with the book without a 
 transcript of what he said. This omission, and all other 
 such omissions of names, and facts, are made of neces- 
 sity, not from choice. 
 
 Chairman : I knew that if the Pottle 
 boys claimed too much for the Eastern 
 part of the town, we could match them 
 in the Western part by such good men 
 as Elbridge G. Heath and George W. 
 Harris, whom we have persuaded to tell 
 something of their " remissenses," as the 
 old lady called them. I hope they '11 
 consider that the Western part of the 
 town begins where the Eastern part leaves 
 off. 
 
 99 
 
 uor 
 
SOME MEMORIES 
 
 OF THE WESTERN PART OF THE TOWN 
 By Elbridge G. Heath 
 
 Ladies, Gentlemen, Respected Kinsman 
 AND Friends : — 
 
 In looking forward eagerly to this event, 
 I have been filled with emotions of joy 
 and gladness which I did not then try to 
 express ; and now I find myself here, des- 
 titute of words with which to voice my 
 overwhelming joy and gratitude for the 
 privilege of looking into the faces of so 
 many of my early associates in this lovely 
 valley. Every road and by-road, every 
 brook and hill, with the grand old Moun- 
 tain at the north, are indelibly impressed 
 on my youthful memory, and make there 
 a beautiful panorama, of which I am never 
 weary. As I turn over the leaves of mem- 
 
 100 
 
idv Clbritjgc (B, i^eatl) 
 
 ory and view again the enchanting scenes 
 of my childhood, the famihar, grand, old 
 landmarks of nature, I am deeply im- 
 pressed with the great change in all sub- 
 lunary things. There is change 
 in the mode of coming into 
 this place, as well as change 
 in the people on whom you 
 look. The farms are all here 
 and many of the old familiar 
 buildings : but where, oh ! 
 where are the familiar forms, 
 the pleasant smiling faces, and 
 the unaffected, cheerful, and 
 ever-cordial voices? They have 
 gone forward into the beyond, 
 and are now, perhaps, enjoying an old- 
 home week with the great majority '■'Just 
 over there," where neither anxiety, care, 
 pain, nor sorrow, nor any of the fleeting 
 elements of this ever-changing life will be 
 permitted to disturb that peace and joy 
 roi 
 
 ELBRIDGE G. HEATH 
 
^omt iHcmorie)3 
 
 which we have not yet been able to attain 
 or conceive. What a change there has been 
 in the Hayford families since I left this 
 town fifty-four years ago ! Then four 
 families lived in a row, each farm touching 
 the other. First Albert Hayford, and his 
 three sons : Isaac, Zebedee and Washing- 
 ton. These four families contained thirty- 
 two persons. Now Edwin Hayford alone 
 remains as their representative on those 
 farms. Mrs. Ella Smart, his sister, is a so- 
 journer in town. Zebedee Hayford's family 
 is well represented among the visitors here, 
 and if numbers were to count, I think they 
 would get the cake. Melvina Columbus, 
 Cleoria and Celestia, with a great-grand- 
 daughter thrown in. M. C, C. C. = 1300. 
 Two more C's should have been there, 
 Celinda and Clarion. The next row of 
 farms was occupied by Capt. F. Richards, 
 D. Graffam, O. GrafFam, Z. Austin, Tay- 
 lor, Leadbetter, Barker, and Bangs. These 
 102 
 
15V c^lbtitige da!* i^eati^ 
 
 names bring to my mind many events of 
 youthful joy and happiness when we were 
 all here together. And now, what can I 
 say concerning the Phillips Road ? Many 
 of the houses are gone, including the little 
 red school-house, where forty of us schol- 
 ars gathered for study in the winter of 
 1 846-7. Now every house is vacant till 
 you come to the Meadow Farm ; not a 
 family or a scholar in the District ! I can 
 only say, " Behold what havoc the scythe 
 of Time has made " in this little corner of 
 the world. 
 
 Mr. Chairman, I thank you for this 
 courtesy, and ask you to accept my in- 
 expressible gratitude for your unyielding 
 determination to have this Reunion and 
 the very able manner in which you have 
 brought this very pleasant and enjoyable 
 event to such a happy issue. 
 
 103 
 
SOME MEMORIES 
 
 OF THE WESTERN PART OF THE TOWN 
 By George W. Harris 
 
 Ladies and Gentlemen: — It seems 
 a little strange to me, and out of place 
 to be called upon for remarks upon this 
 occasion, after hearing such able and elo- 
 quent speakers as Rev. Abel Pottle, Geo. 
 Pottle, E. G. Heath, and numerous 
 others. 
 
 The speaker that preceded me. El- 
 bridge G. Heath, has already recalled the 
 old residents of the Western part of the 
 town. But, Ladies and Gentlemen, I wish 
 to say to you all to-day that I am proud 
 that I was born in- Salem, a small town 
 in Maine ; and I was about to say, the 
 smallest and one of the most beautiful 
 towns situated in this valley, with old 
 104 
 
IB^ (Btovq,t W. l^arrijs 
 
 Mount Abram for a background, tower- 
 ing its loftv peak heavenward. What a 
 picture ! No artist ever has, or ever can 
 paint so grand and so beautiful a picture. 
 The question has arisen in my mind why 
 and for what purpose we are 
 assembled here to-day. It 
 seems to me that we are here, 
 not onlv to look into one 
 another's faces, and shake the 
 friendly hand, and greet those 
 that have long been absent 
 from us ; but, my friends, we 
 are here to recall to our memo- 
 ries scenes of our past, and 
 bring fresh to our minds the 
 fathers, mothers, sisters, bro- 
 thers and more distant relatives that once 
 lived here in Salem. Of these, some are 
 here to-dav and within the sound of my 
 voice while a much larger number have 
 long since gone to their Reward. Although 
 105 
 
 GEORGE VV. HARRIS 
 
^omc jHcmoricjS 
 
 the houses they used to occupy have 
 crumbled to dust and their tombstones 
 are covered with moss, their memories, 
 their influence, and their examples are still 
 fresh in my mind, and, I trust, in the minds 
 of many of you who are seated here be- 
 neath these beautiful trees. 
 
 Salem may seem small in comparison 
 with other towns. But looking over the 
 records and seeing the names of men 
 born and bred in this place who have 
 gone from their early homes and are now 
 holding the most responsible positions 
 in towns, in counties, and in States, as 
 preachers of the Gospel, publishers of 
 books, mayors ot cities. State Assessors, 
 and school teachers, — we must consider 
 Salem of considerable importance. We are 
 blessed with two Churches which are well 
 attended every Sabbath ; and as to educa- 
 tional privileges, we have thirty-six weeks 
 of school in the year. But unless a person 
 io6 
 
has some brain power and a natural in- 
 stinct for his or her chosen occupation all 
 the book knowledge and all the College 
 Education will count for but little. 
 
 Look over our Governors of States and 
 Presidents of the United States. Nine 
 tenths of them are men of limited edu- 
 cation, but men of brain force and will 
 power enough to carry the whole ma- 
 chinery of State upon their shoulders and 
 leave a lasting impression for good. 
 
 A word as to the young people of Salem, 
 just coming upon the stage of action. They 
 will soon be called upon to guide the ship 
 which carries as cargo all the affairs of this 
 life, and we feel safe and well assured that 
 they cannot be excelled, or even duplicated, 
 in point of morality, or of character, or in 
 the surrounding influences stretched out 
 before them. In closing let me say that 
 it gives me great pleasure to meet this large 
 and intelligent assembly on Salem's Old 
 107 
 
^ome i^emonejs 
 
 Home Day, and to shake the friendly hand 
 of kindred, friends, acquaintances, and 
 neighbors of former years, long since rolled 
 into eternity. My desire is that we may 
 continue to celebrate Old Home Week in 
 Salem. It is possible, though not at all sure, 
 that the same persons that are gathered 
 here to-day, will all meet on a like occa- 
 sion for the same purpose in future years. 
 But my desire and my prayer to that all- 
 wise Being who is the Creator, Guider, and 
 Ruler of this Universe is that we who are 
 here assembled with the broad canopy of 
 heaven over us for our shelter may so live 
 and order our lives that, although we may 
 not be permitted to meet again here in 
 this life, when all these earthly scenes are 
 closed to our view and all our work on 
 earth is done, we may be assured of meet- 
 ing as one unbroken family in the Haven 
 of Eternal Rest. 
 
 io8 
 
MRS. UNDERWOOD'S 
 REMINISCENCES 
 
 I AM requested to review upon this oc- 
 casion my experiences as a teacher, in this 
 town, from time to time, during the youth 
 of many ot you whom I am 
 pleased to count among my 
 most valued friends. 
 
 Beyond a few facts and in- 
 cidents which may be of some 
 interest as we compare the 
 past with the present, I do not 
 recall any occurrences worthy 
 of especial mention, or other 
 than those that come into the 
 ordinary experiences of the 
 country school teacher. I was 
 happily surprised upon receiving an appli- 
 cation to teach the school in the east dis- 
 trict of this town. Though I was very 
 109 
 
 C. F. UNDERWOOD 
 
jttm OntJcrtDooti'0 
 
 anxious to accept, my friends did not ap- 
 prove of my leaving home at so early an 
 age, and feared that lack of mature judg- 
 ment would result in failure. I prevailed, 
 however, with my arguments and promises 
 to do my best, not onlv for mv own sake 
 but for the interest of those under my 
 charge. 
 
 It was on a lovely June morning when 
 I said a reluctant good-bye to dear friends 
 in my pleasant home, and with a pretense 
 at bravery, started for my destination, 
 more than forty miles distant, to " teach 
 my first school." The journey in the old- 
 fashioned stage coach was delightful. The 
 air was clear and the hills and the mountain 
 peaks were visible in every direction. All 
 was like a revelation to me. Farmington 
 was very lovely, with its pleasant homes 
 and branching trees. The little village of 
 Strong was also beautiful. The wire bridge 
 was to me a wonder, and of unusual in- 
 
 IIO 
 
Eeminijsccnccjs 
 
 terest. My day'sjourney ended, I tarried 
 over night at an old time tavern which 
 I but vaguely remember. In the early 
 morning I was informed that Mr. Eben 
 Briggs of Salem was there to meet me. 
 At that time there was a public convey- 
 ance to Salem but once a week, at which 
 time the mail was received and distributed 
 by Postmaster Patterson. The drive up 
 through the valley road was novel and, 
 though monotonous, very interesting to 
 me. The first sight of Salem and grand 
 old Mt. Abram I can never forget ! I was 
 taken to the home of Mr. Blake in the 
 eastern part of the town for my school 
 examination. Mr. Blake gave me my cer- 
 tificate after an old time, rigid examination, 
 which would be somewhat amusing to the 
 applicant of to-day. Mr. Blake was of 
 the " old school," was counted a thorough 
 scholar and had been a favorably known 
 school teacher in his day. Mrs. Blake 
 I II 
 
Pit^. dtiDertPooti'js 
 
 had also, in her younger years, been a 
 teacher of successful experience. In her 
 native town ( Georgetown, Maine ), she 
 taught eleven successive years, alternately 
 in two adjacent districts. This was not 
 uncommon with successful teachers at that 
 period of time. Today teachers of our 
 rural schools very rarely are acceptable, 
 or give general satisfaction beyond the 
 second term ! The clamor for change in 
 this respect comes of mistaken judgment 
 and often means injury to the school, from 
 unsteady and unmethodical training. 
 
 But to return to my examination. Mr. 
 Blake produced, for text books. Pike's 
 Arithmetic, Fisk's Grammar, an old time 
 Reader, and Pope's Essay on Man. These 
 works were not familiar to me. I feared 
 and trembled lest I should be humiliated 
 by a refusal of the necessary document. 
 But like all transitory things, that ordeal 
 came to an end and, whether or not deserv- 
 
 112 
 
asemintoencejs 
 
 ing, I received, and have carefully preserved 
 to this day, the certificate signed John C. 
 Heath — Robert Blake. These gentlemen 
 were also " The Visiting Committee." 
 The name of the third member of the 
 Board I do not now recall. I remember 
 both visitors as pleasant men who accept- 
 ably performed their duties. 
 
 I had enrolled about twenty pupils, 
 which, in those years, was considered a 
 small school. One half that number now is 
 thought to be a good average. My wages 
 were one dollar per week — and, after the 
 fashion of that day, I was expected to 
 " board round " ; although it was decided 
 later that a steady boarding place should be 
 provided for me. One dollar per week, for 
 board, was considered high and sometimes 
 it went to the lowest bidder at seventy-five 
 cents, and even as low as fifty cents. So 
 eager was I at that time to assume the airs 
 of a " school mistress " that I think I would 
 1^3 
 
jmm ^ttDertDooti'js 
 
 have accepted a position without wages, al- 
 though I was very proud of my first earnings. 
 The families represented in the school 
 were Davis, Ellsworth, Briggs, Pottle, 
 Brackley, Clark, Lovejoy and Record. 
 The pupils were easily governed and in 
 all ways very respectful and kind, reflect- 
 ing great credit upon the home discipline 
 as well as upon the former teachers of 
 the school. Notably among the number 
 was a small boy, now so widely and favor- 
 ably known, the Hon. George Pottle of 
 Lewiston. If I mistake not, he learned his 
 multiplication table during that term of 
 school. Doubtless he has had occasion in 
 his years of computations to put into 
 practice many times this important branch 
 of mathematics, while so faithfully per- 
 forming his high official duties. My plea- 
 sant anticipations were realized. I highly 
 enjoyed my school, and the kind hospi- 
 tality of its patrons. 
 
 114 
 
meminisjcenceji 
 
 The district at that time boasted of one 
 of the most aged persons in the State, 
 Mrs. Jordan, the mother of Mrs. Packard. 
 She attained the great age of one hundred 
 and one years and some months. My brief 
 interview with her left a deep impression 
 upon me. Her death occurred soon after. 
 I need not remind you that here, also, was 
 the home of Rev. A. W. Pottle. The in- 
 fluence of his faithful stewardship, so long 
 and so widely known, needs no comment. 
 'The ideal shepherd loved and revered by 
 his flocks, the reward of a " Well done " 
 awaits him. I have lost trace of all but a 
 few in that district who were at that time 
 my pupils. I doubt not that success fol- 
 lowed them in their various vocations, 
 for this was the promise of their early 
 years. 
 
 Subsequently I taught several terms at 
 Salem Mills. Here again I formed asso- 
 ciations whose pleasant memories I have 
 115 
 
jmm ^nDetijjooti'0 
 
 enjoyed through all these years of separa- 
 tion. During one of these terms, this 
 school numbered nearly, or quite, fifty 
 pupils. Twenty-five were considered a 
 small number, for that school. I would 
 gladly mention in detail some of the plea- 
 sant and interesting incidents connected 
 with my experience in this district ; but I 
 would not weary you, and will but briefly 
 allude to a few points. During all my ex- 
 perience in similar schools, I have looked 
 back upon this as one of high intelligence 
 and the most remarkable for its fine classes, 
 especially in elocution and language. There 
 were those, also, who excelled in other 
 branches. I was particularly proud of that 
 first class in Reading, composed principally 
 of girls, or young ladles, as in attainment 
 and deportment they were, indeed^ young 
 ladies. They were also equally as profi- 
 cient in analysis. The line as they stood, 
 or were seated, reached the entire length 
 lib 
 
Hetnmijscencejsj 
 
 of the school room on the north side. Few 
 of our higher institutions of learning can 
 boast to-day of finer readers or gramma- 
 rians, and, I may add, spellers, than were 
 found at that time in school district No. 2 
 of Salem. Each name is worthy of honor- 
 able mention, but time forbids my being 
 personal. Captain Patterson and Freedom 
 Richards were the Agents by whom I was 
 employed. I hold a certificate, signed, Abel 
 Pottle, Supervisor. Mr. Pottle was efficient 
 and conscientious in his work. Some of 
 these school terms closed with entertain- 
 ments, consisting of readings, dialogues, 
 recitations, etc. 
 
 I beg leave to mention a native of this 
 district, the late lamented Rev. Albert H. 
 Heath. High tribute should be rendered 
 to one, by nature, so gifted, and who was 
 regarded as one of the first pulpit orators 
 in New England. Others, who honor this 
 gathering by their presence, born within 
 117 
 
piv^. auDettDooD'js 
 
 the shadow of this old, majestic mountain, 
 have made the world the better for their 
 having lived in it. 
 
 Among those of the home-comers who 
 deserve special mention (and indeed all 
 deserve that, if time allowed the mention 
 of each honored one) is he, whose parental 
 home on the mountain side, was known 
 far and near for its genial hospitality. The 
 " latch string " was always " out ." There 
 were meals at all hours, for guests bidden 
 or unbidden. A light was there always in 
 the window to guide the wanderer on his 
 way through the darkness of night. He 
 learned the pursuits of model and system- 
 atic farming from his father, and, since 
 his removal to a new-made home, his name 
 and fame, have reached afar as an honored 
 leader of progressive agriculture. His was 
 the farmer-boy's heritage — push and per- 
 severance. If you would know of the pro- 
 ducts of his fair, broad acres, and the 
 ii8 
 
Btmmiiscence^ 
 
 secrets of his success, I refer you to an 
 article in a late issue of the Lewiston 
 Journal. You will readily recognize the 
 central figure, your old time friend, Co- 
 lumbus Hayford. 
 
 In yonder pleasant cottage, typical of 
 the New England country home, was born 
 one, to whom we are to-day largely in- 
 debted, for the pleasures of this reunion 
 of old citizens and friends. One, whose 
 name in business thoroughfares, and in 
 educational circles, is known on two con- 
 tinents. His innate love for the dear old 
 town of his nativity prompted the thought 
 and suggestion of an Old Home Day in 
 Salem. The sentiment expressed by an- 
 other — "This is my own, my native 
 land " — has never been crushed out, not- 
 withstanding the contrasts of his life. We 
 should like personally to thank D. C. 
 Heath for making so many hearts happy 
 here to-day. It has been no small task ; 
 119 
 
j^m auDertDooD'js 
 
 but it has been for him a labor of love, the 
 consciousness of which and the memories 
 of this happy day let us hope may be his 
 rich rewards. To the citizens whose united 
 and untiring efforts have aided in the suc- 
 cess of the occasion, many and grateful 
 thanks are due. 
 
 Years after my first school in East Salem, 
 I taught another term there. Again, I 
 found a bright, up to date class of schol- 
 ars. The close application, and the deep 
 interest manifested in their work by the 
 pupils was something remarkable, and 
 made the task of the teacher easy and 
 pleasant. I followed these young people 
 with interest for a long time, and am cer- 
 tain that they have filled well their places 
 in life. I cannot refrain from speaking 
 of a message, that has recently reached 
 me, in reference to one of that number, 
 Melvin Lovejoy, a resident now of a dis- 
 tant state who has risen to distinction as 
 
 120 
 
BeminijsictnccjJ 
 
 a lawyer and who has had many honors 
 conferred upon him. The years that had 
 intervened since my first school had 
 wrought entire changes in the neighbor- 
 hood. Only one old home, that of Mr. 
 Bartlett Lovejoy, was occupied by an ori- 
 ginal family. It was also my good fortune to 
 teach a term of school in West Freeman, 
 where, in a highly intelligent community, 
 and in a school of well-disciplined and 
 bright pupils I formed friendships that 
 have strengthened with the passing years. 
 I hold no associations dearer than those 
 connected with my sojourn, at intervals, 
 as a teacher in the districts to which I have 
 referred. — Thanks for this Old Home 
 Reunion ! It has awakened sweet mem- 
 ories, and will serve to keep in fond re- 
 membrance the friends and friendships 
 cherished in days " lang syne." Let our 
 petition be, that this circle as one fam- 
 ily, remain unbroken, when, at that Great 
 
 121 
 
BeminijsJcencejs 
 
 Home Reunion God's children shall finally 
 be gathered. 
 
 The Eternal clock has struck acentury's 
 half! We know the contents of this life 
 chapter. What will the next reveal ? — To 
 human sight the book is closed — its pages 
 
 Note : Mrs. Underwood's reference to Rev. Albert 
 Hayford Heath, D. D., reminds us to say that, had 
 we given two or three days to this reunion, prominent 
 mention would have been made of as many more of 
 the worthy sons and daughters who were proud to 
 claim Salem as their birthplace. We may appropriately 
 give here the following beautiful poem by Dr. Heath, 
 written a few months before his death. 
 
 122 
 
A DREAM 
 
 By Rev. Albert Hayford Heath, D. D. 
 
 I WANDERED abroad one fine morning in June ; 
 The earth was abloom, and the sky all atune 
 With bird songs, and dust of gold hung in the air 
 And sifted on hill and dale, radiant, and fair. 
 
 A bright spirit met me with deep, soulful eyes. 
 Like patches of tend' rest blue, out of the skies; 
 Her robe was a wind-woven web, and the ring 
 Of her voice was like music of softly touched string. 
 
 "Thy world is most fair," she said, '* Sunshine and 
 
 flowers 
 And music's sweet thrills fill the joy-laden hours;" 
 " Oh yes," I replied, "but one shadow remains — 
 A tyrant called Death all this wide beauty claims! " 
 
 "Fly, Spirit," I cried, " lest he find you, O fly! 
 In the frost of his breath e* en your beauty will die ! " 
 With a voice like a lute, swept with evening's sweet 
 
 breath. 
 She, vanishing, answered me, ** My name is Death! " 
 123 
 
€>lt) i^ome ®a^ 
 
 The poem by Rev. Albert Heath was pub- 
 lished in the " Lewiston (Maine) Journal " 
 with the following notice : 
 
 " Dr. Heath was born in Salem, Maine, 
 and died at St. Johnsbury, Vermont, in 
 1899. He married, January 7, 1 868, Lucy 
 Jane Simonds of Charlestown, Mass. 
 They had two children, Albert C.,a prac- 
 ticing physician in St. Paul, Minn., and 
 Miss Lucy F. Heath, a member of the 
 senior class at Smith College. He also 
 left a sister, Mrs. Horatio G. Turner of 
 Dedham, Mass., and two brothers, El- 
 bridge G. Heath of Auburn, Maine, and 
 George Heath of Rangeley, Maine." 
 
 As being of Interest to all we quote the 
 following from the same Journal : — 
 
 " During a residence of less than live 
 years in this town. Dr. Heath made his 
 influence felt as few men have ever done 
 in so short a time. Possessed of a force- 
 ful and eloquent style, sparkling with gen- 
 124 
 
uine humor, he was in great demand upon 
 all public occasions and gave generously 
 of his time and strength. Many will recall 
 some of his public appearances and the up- 
 lift which they received from his stirring 
 words. His interest in education was not 
 confined to Tabor Academy, and, besides 
 being a valued Trustee of St. Johnsbury 
 Academy, he took a deep interest in the 
 public schools. Just before he died, he 
 told the writer that he should give all his 
 spare time to the establishment of Bright- 
 look Hospital, which he had been instru- 
 mental in starting and of which he had 
 been elected President. He had outlined 
 great plans for its usefulness." 
 
 125 
 
£)ID i^ome ®a^ 
 
 Chairman : Many from whom we have 
 heard have expressed regret that they 
 cannot be with us today, for they wanted 
 to see again their former teacher, Carrie 
 Nash. She must have made an unusually 
 good impression on her pupils — not ex- 
 actly the kind of impression that some of 
 us boys had left on us by our teachers, but 
 the kind made on the boys who, when asked 
 what their teacher taught them aboutpolite- 
 ness, replied : " She just walks around and 
 we all feel polite." To our request that she 
 write a poem and some reminiscences for 
 this occasion she very reluctantly said 
 "Yes," and I present her now as Carrie 
 Nash, the poet. Her reminiscences have 
 already been read by her husband, Mr. 
 George Underwood, from whom we shall 
 have also a few remarks in his own behalf 
 
 126 
 
SALEM'S OLD HOME DAY 
 
 By Mrs. Carrie Nash Underwood 
 
 Did sun of Heaven e'er shine on scene like this; 
 Where blend true loving friendships, joy and peace. 
 Where hearts, as one, raise simultaneous songs 
 In praise to Him, to whom all praise belongs ? 
 To Him, w^ho gaVe to us this glorious day 
 That wears midsummer's charms in bright array; 
 Green fields, the waving grain, and fruitage choice. 
 Conspire to make this August day rejoice ! 
 All nature smiles, and at her kind behest. 
 We leave our cares, and with her, take our rest; 
 List t' her voices that to higher strains attune. 
 Gaze 'pon her beauties, and with her God, com- 
 mune, 
 O, wondrous world! thou all divinely planned, 
 I recognize in thee the master hand ! — 
 While blessings spread o'er all the earth so wide. 
 All unsurpassed are those, where you and I abide! 
 Tho' north, or south, or east, or west. 
 Where* er our home, we love it best ! 
 
 127 
 
If where perpetual snows, crown mountains bold and 
 
 high. 
 Where at their rocky feet, th' dark deep caverns lie; 
 Or, if, where tropic suns shine on perpetual bloom. 
 Where peach and orange groves send forth their rich per- 
 fume. 
 Where'er the heart, where'er affection's ties: 
 There, there, the home love dwells, (/mI never dies! 
 O, hearts will j^^r//, for childhood's native home 
 Where halcyon days, but only once, can come, — 
 Where brightest promise knew no frosts that chilled. 
 Where souls with guileless child lore first were filled. 
 That dear old home! we love it still, if palace or if cot. 
 Where'er in all the world so wide — \ihome it matters 
 
 not. 
 Still happy home, where loved ones yet abide. 
 Where father, mother, still walk side by side! 
 Tho' furrows deep have marked the brow once fair 
 And Age has set his crown of silvery hair. 
 And forms are bowed, with weight of many years. 
 And eyes are dimmed with grief and sorrow's tears; 
 Yet, deep zvithin. Affection's fires still burn. 
 And welcoming, await the wand'rer's return: 
 Return to all, in childhood, that he loved. 
 To hills and fields, so long his child feet roved, 
 
 128 
 
13^ 0iv^. €. 0. OnDertDooD 
 
 To lake and tiny stream, and babbling brook. 
 Where first he sailed his boat, and dropped his first pin 
 hook. 
 
 This day we are gathered, 'neath these trees that once 
 
 sheltered 
 The fathers, the kindred, long since gone to their rest — 
 Where prayers and sweet praises of loved ones ascended 
 That were heard by the throngs of th' sainted and blest; 
 
 Near by the old churchyard, where 'pon marble are gra- 
 ven 
 The names of the loved, no more here to greet. 
 Near the evergreen trees, that scatter their sweetness 
 O'er hills, and o'er waters that lie at their feet ; 
 
 Near " Patterson hill," that inspires with its grandeur. 
 That o'erlooks the deep valley — Salem's fair view — 
 Where nature is spread with woodland and meadow. 
 And the bright sparkling '* Quick Stream's " serpentine 
 flow. 
 
 Whose waters are rife with the shy speckled beauties, 
 The sportsman's true " Paradise," that invites and al- 
 lures ! 
 
 129 
 
O, where has kind nature bestowed 'pon her children 
 Landscape more lovely, or enchanting, than yours! 
 
 'Loved scenes of your childhood — who would forget 
 them ? 
 
 The sweet homes, the playgrounds, 'mid these moun- 
 tains and hills. 
 
 E'en the rocks, by the roadside, awake inspiration. 
 
 The bridges, the mill ponds, and the busy old mills! 
 
 Dear old Mt. Abram, thou chiefest of landmarks! 
 Grand monarch, that nature so richly has crowned! 
 Like a sentinel faithful through th' centuries, guarding 
 The safety and peace of the vales far around! 
 
 Old mountain, my memory is fresh as the verdure 
 That clothes thy grand form, so symmetrical, true. 
 Fresh as thine evergreen vines, that still clamber 
 Round boulders and ledges, that in youth time, I knew! 
 
 Yea, well I recall that bright sunny morning. 
 When th' earth was aflame with Autumn's array: 
 That we climbed thy rough steeps, with feet all unwearied. 
 Ah, we were " young folks " then, — but not ♦' come 
 
 to stay 
 
 I " 
 
 130 
 
Dear mountain, that stand'st so strong and defiant. 
 When th' wild raging tempest would shake thy bold 
 
 sides. 
 Thou 'rt a model of friendship, th' true and th' loyal — 
 Unmoved by life's changes, — that ever abides! 
 
 Yea! picturesque lovely, the never forgotten. 
 
 When once eyes have feasted on thy beauties so 
 
 rare. 
 Where ferns and wild mosses carpet thy woodlands. 
 That are mirrored in waters 'neath skies bright and 
 
 fair! 
 
 Dare we ask, where are they, th' friends and compan- 
 ions 
 Who ascended the mountain, that bright Autumn day ? 
 Some to the tomb, and some to the bridal. 
 Scattered and fled, from old homes, far away ! 
 
 Some sleep 'neath the turf, where they fell in the bat- 
 tle 
 
 While nobly responding their loved country's call. 
 
 When war clouds o'ershadowed and threatened the 
 nation. 
 
 They left home and kindred, yea, sacrificed all! 
 
 13^ 
 
Is there one here to-day, who fought for " Old 
 Glory" — 
 
 Who survived the dark conflict of th' *' Blue and the 
 Gray"? 
 
 Children's children shall bless you. High Heaven re- 
 ward you 
 
 For defending our freedom, in the nation's dark day! 
 
 On this day as we gather, we meet on the " level," 
 •' Old Home " is our theme — the dear native home. 
 We gaze 'pon faces, in life's youth so familiar. 
 We grasp each by the hand, as hither we come! 
 
 Yes, here in this place, 'mid these pleasant surroundings, 
 Heart beats to heart, as we talk of the years 
 When all was like sunshine, ere Hfe was o'ertaken, 
 With its burden of cares, with its sorrows and tears. 
 
 As we talk of the freedom enjoyed in our youth time. 
 Of th' moonlight-rides — with their jingling bells. 
 Of the crisp healthful frosts, of th' songs of the coasters. 
 Of the search for the May flower, o'er hills and in dells. 
 
 Of th' good old schools, and when 'twas the fashion 
 For the children to learn their A. B. C.'s; 
 
 132 
 
13^ jmm C B. (llnDertDOoD 
 
 When the friend of all friends, the dear old " Master," 
 Ne'er yet found a moment for comfort and ease! 
 
 For when came a lull, then, he, with his pen knife. 
 Must repair and refashion the old quill pen — 
 And the **sums," from Addition to Double Position, 
 He must solve and explain, again and again. 
 
 As we talk of the singing schools, cold but bright even- 
 ings 
 
 That brought out a bevy of old folks and young. 
 
 When the ** scale " was long practiced, the rising and 
 falling. 
 
 And the notes, iio, re, mi, of the old songs were sung. 
 
 As when we revert to the old time huskings. 
 
 To those late Autumn evenings with their star-lighted 
 
 skies. 
 To the rich midnight suppers, from the old brick oven. 
 The beans and the brown bread, Indian puddings and 
 
 pies ! 
 
 Of the old fashioned games, like " chasing the squirrel," 
 Of the "button" dropped slyly in some favored one's 
 hand. 
 
Of the fun and the frolic when the pawns were inflicted 
 So bashfully paid at the "judge's" command! 
 
 And then of the quilting bee, and th' afternoon circle 
 With husbands and sweethearts invited to tea. 
 When for sweet charity's sake swift fingers and needles 
 Flew fast as the hours, all so pleasant and free. 
 
 As in mind, we recall the grand old Muster 
 When the uniformed troops march in shining array 
 To the fife and the drum beat, that music inspiring, 
 Alas, few are the numbers, who remember that day! 
 
 That day of all days, when in anticipation 
 The boys worked with zeal, with heart and with hand 
 For the promised reward, to expend, for some fair one. 
 Much as a shining sixpence at th' gingerbread stand ! 
 
 *' O, good old times are best,^'' we 're wont to say. 
 And to them tribute we would justly pay. 
 And to our native home, whose scenes, so fair. 
 We 'd not exchange for rarer ones elsewhere! 
 
 To dear old Maine, that proudly leads the van! 
 Where is her peer ? O, tell me, ye who can. 
 
15V M^^* ^» i6» antiertDooD 
 
 Search well, outside the shores of Ocean, deep and wide. 
 And Maine, our own dear Maine, is still the country's 
 pride ! 
 
 The nation heeds her ringing voice, in legislative halls. 
 She scatters blessings o'er th' land, and lists to mercy's 
 
 calls. 
 She sends in Freedom's cause the loyal, brave, and true. 
 She hoists her colors, e'er aloft, the red, and white, and 
 
 blue. 
 
 She e'er dispenses charity with open lavish hand. 
 Unto the mission fields, abroad — the dark benighted 
 
 land; 
 She's ne'er behind her sister states — in goodly works 
 
 excels. — 
 What to the great wide world she 's been, an honored 
 
 record tells! 
 
 Her staunch, proud timbers cut through every sea. 
 The nation's pride, her guardians true and free! 
 The church, the school, twin blessings point the way 
 To life, and light, for ignorance holds no sway! 
 And lo, the yeoman takes his bold firm stand. 
 His claims asserts: — he 's King of all the land ! 
 
And best of all: true, loyal hearts, within her bosom beat. 
 And homes of love and purity are e'er a safe retreat! 
 
 Behold her galaxy of names, among the good and great 
 No brighter ones, elsewhere, in nation, or in state; 
 In brilliancy they '11 shine, and down from age to age 
 Will noble deeds be stamped upon historic page; 
 Authors, poets, statesmen, high on th' scroll of Fame! 
 Look down the list, and you shall find not one ignoble 
 name ! 
 
 Despite all adverse minds, and threat 'ning skies 
 Maine's Temperance Banner still in triumph flies! 
 
 As th' grand old Ship of State, is launched, while tem- 
 pests rave. 
 Yet proudly rides at last upon the topmost wave. 
 So, th' righteous cause — the Heaven ordained. 
 Shall never know defeat. 
 She e'er can boast o'er sin and crime. 
 Her victory complete! 
 
 Grave problems, that confront her now, provoking 
 
 loud debate 
 That threaten dire disaster, alike to Church and State, 
 
 136 
 
13^ jErjs. €♦ ii5* (EJntiertDoot) 
 
 Call for ready action, in men of wisdom sound. 
 And whose sure and safe solution, is in the ballot found ! 
 Maine will verify her motto — "I direct. I lead — " 
 Known well, and felt abroad — her watchword, and 
 her creed. 
 
 But, to return to th' days of yore — 
 
 When first the upturned sod 
 Revealed these rich and fertile soils. 
 
 That first the white man trod ! 
 
 Were time and space available, 
 
 I'd mention every one. 
 Those noble stalwart pioneers. 
 Each daughter and each son. 
 
 I'd tell of exploits, that should win 
 
 A long enduring name 
 Grander, nobler, oft, than those 
 
 Found in the *' Hall of Fame." 
 
 I 'd tell of sore discouragements. 
 
 Alternate hopes and fears. 
 And of unrewarded labor. 
 
 Of weary, toilsome years. 
 
I 'd tell of wives and mothers. 
 
 With Spartan blood aglow. 
 Who braved the dangerous hardships. 
 
 Known to that long ago. 
 
 How, for love's sweet sake, they left 
 
 The dear parental care. 
 Exchanged for homes, in forest wilds. 
 
 The yeoman's lot to share. 
 
 And how the wedding trip was made 
 
 On ox-sleds, and their guide 
 The " spotted trees " — to show the way 
 
 For th' bridegroom and the bride. 
 
 To reach the rude log cabin door. 
 Oped wide, with welcomes sweet. 
 
 The home of love, in readiness. 
 Its mistress fair to greet. 
 
 I 'd tell how hands unused to toil. 
 
 Prepared the frugal meal. 
 And learned the weaver's subtle art. 
 
 And turned the spinning wheel. 
 
 138 
 
13^ jHrjs, €♦ 0. (SntiertwooD 
 
 I 'd tell how Fashion's absence 
 
 Made happier homes and Hves, 
 Unfettered from her thraldom. 
 
 Thrice happy — husbands, wives ! 
 
 That homespun suit deft fingers wove — 
 
 His Sunday's best array — 
 As proud, his wife, as though he wore 
 
 The broadcloth of to-day. 
 
 And he, th' loyal, tried and true. 
 
 Loved not that wife the less. 
 Because, instead of silks, she wore 
 
 The '* linsey woolsey " dress. 
 
 O happy years ! — I heard one say — 
 
 One whom our hearts held dear. 
 That th' happiest part of her life was shared 
 
 In the home of th' pioneer! 
 
 Where, with her cedar broom, she swept 
 
 The little cabin floor 
 Laid smooth with hemlock bark — where played 
 
 Dear children 'round the door. 
 
And where, at nightfall, gathered in 
 When th' cheering firelight shone, 
 
 Th' unbroken family circle, there 
 
 ' Round th' hearth of rough hewn stone — 
 
 And where, when sleepy eyes were closed, 
 ( Here a glistn'ing tear she shed, ) 
 
 They were borne within her folded arms. 
 Each, to his cradle bed. 
 
 She told me more — how Fortune smiled. 
 
 And filled their coffers well. 
 And naught but health and happiness 
 
 Seemed, in that home, to dwell. 
 
 But there came a day — a darksome day — 
 To that happy household band. 
 
 When th' gilded domes of th' far off town. 
 Beguiled, with beck'ning hand. 
 
 But she told how soon she wearied 
 Of th' dazzling glint and show; 
 
 How she longed for faces familiar. 
 Old friends, and sweet voices low. 
 
 140 
 
i5r i^tjs* €. B. mxhtmooh 
 
 How th* homesick hearts of her children yearned 
 Through th' wild wood paths to roam; 
 
 For th' wild bird's song, th' bees, and th' flowers. 
 For the freedom of that home. 
 
 She told me more — that th' church-yard held 
 
 Each one of her family fold, — 
 And the tears that coursed down her aged cheek 
 
 The rest of her story told. 
 
 But they had left the " gates ajar," 
 
 At th' home on th' other shore. 
 And I heard that soon she 'd entered there. 
 
 Where households part no more. 
 
 Ah, hers was the oft repeated tale. 
 
 Of this earthly life's unrest — 
 Th' reaching afar, for th' better beyond! 
 
 O, vam a7id fruitless quest ! 
 
 O, that human hearts would learn 
 
 The ways of true content — 
 And God's great wisdom e'er discern. 
 
 In His humblest blessings sent! 
 
 141 
 
TO MR. D. C. HEATH 
 
 My dear good sir: Promoter of these gatherings 
 
 In your native Pine Tree State, 
 We tha?ik you for th' generous thought. 
 
 Conception — grand and great! 
 
 And to-day, your native town. 
 
 Most proudly, welcomes you — 
 And in her name, I extend th' hand 
 
 Of old frkfidships, warm and true ! 
 
 And her other children, gathered here. 
 
 In her mother arms, to-day. 
 She folds them close, who, in their youth. 
 
 Went far from her away. 
 
 She fain would pay you reverence. 
 
 That is so justly due. 
 For th' honors, you 've conferred 'pon her 
 
 In lives so loyal, true. 
 
 Of your self-made records, she is proud. 
 
 Of your zeal, and enterprize. 
 Of th' good upon the world bestowed. 
 
 Through labor's sacrifice. 
 
15^ jmrn €. 0. anDcrttJoon 
 
 Her mother's eyes have followed you. 
 And watched your proud career. 
 
 They 've found you from Aroostook's plains 
 To th' western wild frontier! 
 
 'Neath California's sunny skies 
 Where flowers, perennial, grow. 
 
 Where th' palm and sweet magnolia rise. 
 Where th' Southland's breezes blow. 
 
 She applauds you each, upon your choice 
 
 Of husbands and of wives. 
 Who have aided well, in moulding 
 
 The destinies of lives. 
 
 Of your well earned titles, she is proud — 
 
 Your fields of labor chosen. 
 Professors, Honorables, and "Squires," 
 
 No doubt, are by the dozen! 
 
 The sacred desk has well been filled. 
 With her sons, of gifts so rare. 
 
 Ah, one, in prime of usefulness. 
 Has climbed the "Golden stair." 
 
 143 
 
She * s proud of you all, at home, or abroad. 
 
 As each, at his craft, and trade. 
 Has shown by honest toil and skill. 
 
 The high success he 's made. 
 
 She bids you all welcome, all, to-day. 
 
 While she your praise shall sing. 
 Welcome, from homes of th' far, far west. 
 
 To that of Maine^s ** tuber King!" • 
 
 With her magic wand she makes you 
 
 Children, again, to-day! 
 'Neath her parent wing, she folds you. 
 
 And fain would bid you stay ! 
 
 But e'er the morrow's setting sun. 
 
 She must say a fond adieu. 
 And a •♦ God be with you " — as you 're called. 
 
 Life's duties still to do. 
 
 One line for Salem — dear old town 
 Honored and loved — of fair renown — 
 Can boast of much — has seen bright days. 
 As forth she 's walked, in Wisdom's ways. 
 
 ' Mr. Columbus Hayford is Maine's tuber, or potato, king. 
 144 
 
15^ 0it^. €. 0. anncttoooD 
 
 She has happy homes, for which th' wanderers sigh, 
 Where first born hopes, and fond aiFections, lie — 
 Where friend familiar oft greets — 
 And peaceful sounds buzz on her well worn streets — 
 Tho' quiet, and quaint, yet her name shall be 
 Crowned, with th' brightest wreath of the Laurus 
 tree ! 
 
 Her lives, so like a benediction — 
 
 As onward they have sped. 
 The same through sunshine and affliction, 
 
 A halo, bright, has shed. 
 Which shall cease to broaden — never. 
 
 Like a circle in the sea 
 Merging, in the Great Forever — 
 
 Into God's Eternity! — 
 
 145 
 
GEORGE UNDERWOOD'S 
 ADDRESS 
 
 Mr. President, Ladies and Gentle- 
 men : — 
 
 It affords me great pleasure to be one 
 of your number here to-day. Though per- 
 sonally a stranger in your midst, I have 
 known of the good name of this community 
 for many years, and of those who have 
 gone out of it to attain distinction in the 
 various walks of life. 
 
 We came into Salem this morning, down 
 over Patterson Hill. Never has my eye 
 caught a more beautiful landscape view 
 than this little village and valley presented 
 with Old Abram for a background. It was 
 truly inspiring. 
 
 I have passed through many states of our 
 beloved Union, all affording lovely natural 
 features, yet have I never beheld anything 
 146 
 
outrivaling this scene in grandeur and 
 beauty ! 
 
 These Old Home gatherings are simply 
 grand ! It is well for the boy and the girl 
 to come here, for the young man and the 
 young woman to be present on this occa- 
 sion. It is well for those in the prime of 
 manhood and in the prime of womanhood 
 to come and enjoy the festivities of the 
 day. And it is well for those in advanced 
 years to come and clasp hands once more, 
 for the renewal and cementing of old friend- 
 ships. It is a salutary influence for youth 
 and age to meet on an occasion like this. 
 
 In the reminiscences just read, it will be 
 noticed that tribute is paid to those who 
 left the parental roof when young, and 
 went out into " Life's hard School." Their 
 life work is commendable, and the writer 
 who penned these lines has in no way ex- 
 ceeded justice, when she calls your atten- 
 tion to what they have accomplished. 
 147 
 
dBieorge auDertoooti'^ 
 
 But, Mr. President, I wish to say a few 
 words to those who have stayed at home. 
 
 Only a few generations ago this now 
 beautiful valley, and these adjacent hill- 
 sides, were covered with stately trees, kissed 
 by the sparkling rays of the morning sun. 
 The Red Man hunted his game along these 
 hillsides and through these valleys, and 
 fished these water-ways unmolested. The 
 wild beasts roamed these forests at will. 
 
 Your fathers came. They felled and 
 burned these trees, and prepared the soil 
 for seed. For many years they sowed and 
 gathered into barns. They increased their 
 acres, and made these fine homes that we 
 see all about us. They labored under many 
 difficulties and many privations that you 
 are not experiencing to-day. Noble men 
 and noblewomen ! They " builded better 
 than they knew." Peace to their ashes, 
 that rest in yonder churchyard ! We do 
 not forget that you, their descendants, 
 148 
 
have perseveringlv remained upon and 
 tilled these lands, and it is you who have 
 made this gathering possible here to-day. 
 
 Note : In sending copy for his address, Mr. 
 Underwood wrote under date of October 25, 1904 : 
 " 1 enclose reluctantly, fearing that it is not worthy a 
 place in your booklet, a summary of my remarks at the 
 Old Home gathering at Salem. They were entirely 
 impromptu. If such stray and disconnected thoughts 
 will be of any use, I am glad to assist you. 
 
 " Now a word in regard to the gathering in your 
 old home town. It was a grand success in all its 
 appointments. The people responded nobly and the 
 management was superb, from start to finish. The 
 occasion was one long to be remembered." 
 
 149 
 
^alcnVjS €)ID i^omc Bar 
 
 Presentation of Cake : 
 
 The cake to be given to the oldest per- 
 son present who was born in Salem was 
 presented to Mrs. Elizabeth Harris, who 
 was eightv-six years old on March 6, 1904. 
 She was escorted to the platform by the 
 chairman, and received her honors like a 
 girl — eighty-six years young. 
 
 MRS. ELIZABETH HARRIS 
 
 150 
 
Chairman : 1 cannot better intro- 
 duce the next speaker than by giving 
 Goldsmith's description of " An Old- 
 time Schoolmaster," for it fits the Hon- 
 orable Joel Wilbur as I remember him 
 when he was my schoolmaster : — 
 
 <' A man severe he was, and stern to view, 
 
 I knew him well, and every truant knew. 
 
 Well had the boding tremblers learned to trace 
 
 The day's disasters in his morning face; 
 
 Full well they laughed, with counterfeited glee. 
 
 At all his jokes, for many a joke had he; 
 
 Full well the busy whisper, circling 'round. 
 
 Conveyed the dismal tidings when he frowned. 
 
 Yet he was kind, or if severe in aught. 
 
 The love he bore to learning was in fault. 
 
 The village all declared how much he knew; 
 
 'T was certain he could write and cipher, too; 
 
 Lands he could measure, terms and tides presage. 
 
 And even the story ran that he could gauge. 
 
 In arguing, too, the parson owned his skill, 
 
 For ev'n though vanquished he could argue still, 
 
 While words of learned length, and thund' ring sound 
 
 Amazed the gazing rustics ranged around; 
 
 And still they gazed, and still the wonder grew 
 
 That one small head could carry all he knew." 
 
HON. JOEL WILBUR S 
 ADDRESS 
 
 Sons and Daughters of Salem: — 
 
 The lateness of the hour and the wealth 
 of reminiscence and oratory presented to 
 you by my predecessors, precludes the ne- 
 cessity of any extended remarks 
 at this time. I fully concur with 
 and endorse all that has been 
 said regarding the grandeur of 
 the mountains, the beauty of 
 the meadows, the sweet music 
 of the running brooks, and 
 all the natural attractions sur- 
 rounding this beautiful, quiet, 
 and restful village in the dear 
 old town of Salem. 1 also en- 
 dorse the truth of the state- 
 ments relative to the ability, the integrity, 
 and the high order ot citizenship mani- 
 152 
 
 HON JOEL WILBUR 
 
fested by the many sons who have gone 
 out of this Town, and have made homes 
 in other places and in other States; many 
 of whom have honored us to-day by their 
 presence, and have contributed in a 
 marked degree to making this meeting 
 so interesting and pleasant to us all. 
 Furthermore, I congratulate the resi- 
 dents, ladies and gentlemen, for the very 
 hospitable way in which they have arranged 
 all things for our comfort and happiness. 
 In the absence of hotels, the people have 
 all turned hosts, and with remarkable suc- 
 cess. 
 
 I have been asked, and very properly, 
 why I appear on this platform, not being 
 a son of Salem either by birth, adoption, 
 ormarriage. I offer two reasons. My mother 
 was endeared to very many of the early 
 residents by ties of kindred. Three bro- 
 thers and her mother lived and died in this 
 town. Many other relatives to whom she 
 153 
 
l^on. 31oel Wilhm'^ 
 
 was strongly attached by that lasting tie 
 of friendship, still are here as witnesses to 
 what I say. 
 
 Another reason why I am permitted to 
 meet with you is the fact that fifty years 
 ago I had the pleasure and honor of teach- 
 ing a term of school in this village. And 
 I am here to greet my scholars, to salute 
 them, to look into their bright eyes, to be- 
 hold their youthful and rosy faces, and to 
 grasp their hands once more in memory of 
 the old school days. Less than nine of a 
 roll of more than fifty pupils I meet to- 
 day. The classes are broken, some extinct. 
 "First, second, and third classes," I fall, 
 and only two or three scholars respond. 
 Why is it ? Where are the boys and girls ? 
 Fifty years in this onward march have car- 
 ried the child to youth, manhood, old age, 
 or death, thus closing the school of life. I 
 remember I had some very bright and 
 diligent pupils here, and some roguish 
 154 
 
ones also. Your honored President was 
 both. In youth he was brave, generous, 
 and honest. He has proven himself so 
 to-day by these splendid gifts to his na- 
 tive town. It means much to the people 
 of this place — more than you can esti- 
 mate. 
 
 We have inherited a vast accumula- 
 tion of knowledge and experience. The 
 knowledge of fifty years ago is not the 
 knowledge of to-day. It has expanded 
 more and more with each passing year. 
 The greatest nation, the most intelligent 
 and progressive people, with the best con- 
 stitutional government, most wisely ad- 
 ministered, is ours to enjoy and transmit 
 to our children. Fortunate, indeed, have 
 we been to live in the latter half of the 
 nineteenth century ! 
 
 But the setting sun admonishes me of 
 the close of this beautiful and never-to-be- 
 forgotten day, and with it I dismiss my 
 155 
 
l$om 3!oel Wilbur 
 
 school and say farewell to the remaining 
 few of my pupils of fifty years ago, know- 
 ing that we shall all meet again in that great 
 School where God will be our Teacher and 
 infinite perfection the study of all. 
 
 Note : Mr. Wilbur, in sending the above brief of 
 his Address, said : " Much 1 had thought to say had 
 been said before my turn came, so at the time I was 
 forced to take up some other line of thought in rather 
 a broken manner. Nevertheless, I enjoyed very much 
 the day, the occasion, and the company. I shall recall 
 it with much pleasure." 
 
 156 
 
mh l^ome J^ar 
 
 Singing by all present. 
 
 AULD LANG SYNE 
 Should auld acquaintance be forgot. 
 
 And never brought to mind ? 
 Should auld acquaintance be forgot. 
 
 And days of auld lang syne ? 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 For auld lang syne, my dear. 
 
 For auld lang syne ; 
 We '11 tak' a cup o' kindness yet 
 For auld lang syne. 
 
 And here's a hand, my trusty frien'. 
 And gie 's a hand o' thine ; 
 
 We '11 tak' a cup o' kindness yet. 
 For auld lang syne. 
 
 Chorus. 
 
 Benediction by Rev. H. S, Trueman. 
 
 157 
 
THE AFTERMATH 
 
 The day following the Reunion was a 
 memorable one. The hospitable towns- 
 people took their guests driving to hal- 
 lowed spots, the sites of their old homes, 
 the burial places of their dead. Some of 
 the visitors climbed Mt. Abram. Others 
 fished in the old streams or walked in 
 familiar paths to places they loved. All 
 said that it was " good to be there." 
 
 THE FIRST BOOK GIVEN TO THE NEW LIBRARY 
 
 Mrs. EdnaWorthleyUnderwood,great- 
 granddaughter of Albert Hayford (known 
 to the literary world by her maiden name, 
 Edna JVorthley)^ sent a copy of her transla- 
 tion from the Russian of Evenings in Little 
 Russia^ with the following inscription : 
 
 " This book is presented to the Salem Public Library 
 by the Translator, Edna ''Vorthley Underwood, born in 
 Phillips, Maine, granddaughter of Deborah Bonney How- 
 
 158 
 
Cl^e fim 13006 
 
 ard, nee Hayford, who was born in Salem, Maine, 
 January lo, 1824. Deborah Bonney Howard is the 
 daughter of Albert Hayford, one of the earliest settlers 
 of Salem." 
 
 Unfortunately the book was not re- 
 ceived until the day after the meeting, 
 but it will be treasured as the first volume 
 given to the Charles M. Heath Memo- 
 rial Library. 
 
 In sending her poem, page v, Mrs. 
 Edna Worthley Underwood wrote : " I 
 trust that New England will give you her 
 very sunniest sky for the Reunion week 
 and that it may be a memorable week for 
 the sons and daughters of North Frank- 
 Im. 
 
 MORE REMINISCENCES 
 
 Doubtless every one in the audience 
 that day was reminded of noble citizens 
 who ought to have at least " honorable 
 mention " in a Salem celebration. The 
 chairman was among those who wished 
 the day were longer that justice might be 
 159 
 
jEorc asemintjscencejs 
 
 done to all. But the " Old Home Day " 
 experiment was a new one, and in future 
 our successors will be able to benefit by 
 our mistakes and omissions. 
 
 Mr. Charles H. Bangs of Everett sends 
 us further reminiscences of the western 
 part of the town, to supplement those of 
 Mr. Heath and Mr. Harris. 
 
 MORE REMINISCENCES OF THE WESTERN 
 PART OF THE TOWN. BY CHARLES H. 
 BANGS, EVERETT, MASS. 
 
 No special mention has been made of 
 that section of the town and neighborhood 
 in which my father's farm was located. I 
 will therefore give some recollections of 
 the farms, and their occupants fifty years 
 ago, and at a previous date, as far as I am 
 able ; and, as far as I know, the conditions 
 of occupancy or otherwise to-day. 
 
 On the road, beginning at the top of 
 the Graffam or Seavey Hill, lived, and I 
 i6o 
 
15V €)iaxlt^ i^* I5an80 
 
 believe now lives, Wm. Seavey, in the 
 house formerly occupied by Oliver Graf- 
 fam. John Cunningham lived in the next 
 residence, and my uncle, John C. Heath, 
 the next west. Next to the bridge which 
 crossed the Quick Stream, lived Mr. Lead- 
 better, whose first name I have forgotten. 
 His house has ceased to exist. 
 
 Crossing the bridge, to the Barker farm, 
 there was the school-house which replaced 
 the log school-house. In this school- 
 house, I received the most of my Common 
 School education. The next farm was that 
 occupied by Amos Barker, and next to 
 that was my old birthplace, the Bangs 
 farm. Joining my father's farm, on the 
 north, were three farms, two of which had 
 occupants within my memory. On the 
 Tarr place, farthest east, (once occupied by 
 a family of that name), scarcely any vestige 
 of buildings remained as far back as thirty 
 
 years ago. 
 
 i6i 
 
j^ore Eeminijscenceji 
 
 Next, west of this, was the Voter place 
 once occupied by my uncle Gilbert Voter, 
 of which no buildings now remain. Ad- 
 joining this was the Davis place, never 
 occupied within my recollection. Farther 
 north of the Voter place was the one-time 
 residence of my uncle, John C. Heath. 
 This, and the two adjoining farms, once 
 occupied, are now vacant. Just beyond 
 the residence of my father were two roads 
 which formed a triangle. Following the 
 more northerly of these, you came on the 
 right to what was known as the Winslow 
 place, at one time occupied by Samuel 
 Winslow. The buildings disappeared en- 
 tirely many years ago. 
 
 On the left was a later residence, occu- 
 pied at one time by Jas. Folsom. These 
 latter buildings may still be in existence, 
 and possibly are occupied. Farther along 
 to the west was the residence of Elisha 
 Jones. North of this was the farm and 
 162 
 
iBr Ci^atlejs 1^* BanggJ 
 
 residence of Thomas Greene, where I 
 think the County Commissioner, Isaac W. 
 Greene, was born. 
 
 The last residence in the town, to the 
 west, was the Clayton farm. All of the 
 last three had gone to ruin over twenty- 
 five years ago, and their number was added 
 to the list of Maine's deserted farms. Fol- 
 lowing the other branch of the road, to 
 the south, the first farm and residence was 
 occupied by John Richards, and later by 
 Simeon Turner. Next west of this, or be- 
 yond what was known as the Dug Hills, 
 was a residence once occupied by Luther 
 Childs, but long since gone to decay. 
 
 The next and last residence before you 
 come to the Phillips line, was that of Wm. 
 Folsom. This is probably still extant. 
 North of this, was the Elias Winslow farm, 
 the residence on which has long since 
 ceased to exist. South of my father's farm 
 was what was known as the Sweat place, 
 163 
 
jHore Mminimnm 
 
 buildings of which have long since gone 
 to decay, but have been occupied within 
 my remembrance. 
 
 Within my own school district was the 
 Curtis place, and north of that two other 
 places, all of which have ceased to exist. 
 Of all these mentioned, the only ones 1 
 can say are remaining and occupied, are 
 the Seavey place, probably the Cunning- 
 ham place, the Heath place (Aunt Julia's), 
 the Barker place, the Bangs place and 
 the Folsom place; about one-third of the 
 original number. 
 
 THE FIRST WHITE CHILD BORN IN SALEM 
 
 Mrs. Worthley, the mother of Mrs. 
 Edna W. Underwood and the grand- 
 daughter of Albert Hayford, writes that 
 he was born in Hartford, Me., in 1785 
 and lived in Sumner, Me., till 18 13, when 
 he moved to Salem. He served in the 
 war of 1812. His daughter, Mrs. Debo- 
 164 
 
€)lti ^^omt ©ar 
 
 rah Howard, says that her eldest sister, 
 Artemina Hay ford, was born March 7, 
 1 8 16, and was the first white child born 
 in Salem. 
 
 OLD HOME DAY 
 
 Letters of congratulation and approval 
 of the Reunion have been received from Mr. 
 F. L. Porter, of Eustis, Maine, and from 
 many others. Rev. Abel Pottle writes : 
 
 I think our Salem affair a grand success^ from 
 start to finish. It will always afford me a pleas- 
 ant memory and I think will do the present 
 residents there a great deal of good. 
 
 Did n't they " do themselves proud" in the way 
 they received and entertained their visitors, — 
 especially on that dinner ! They did themselves 
 a great deal of credit. It was well-gotten up, 
 successfully carried out and reflected great credit 
 on all who had a hand in it ; especially on your- 
 self and Walter. I have made up my mind that 
 so long as I have my health, and strength per- 
 mits, I will annually visit the old town. 
 165 
 
Piott Mtminimnm 
 
 In reply to this letter of Rev. Mr. Pot- 
 tle, Mr. Heath of Boston, chairman of the 
 meeting, wrote : — 
 
 Dear Abel, — I am delighted that the after- 
 taste of the little Salem affair is so pleasant to 
 you. That makes me a little better satisfied with 
 it. The only point in which I was not satisfied 
 before we began, and after we got through, was 
 that the Heaths had altogether too prominent a 
 part in it ; but that could not be helped. To 
 tell you the plain truth, I could not get anybody 
 outside of the Heaths, who figure there, to take 
 hold of it. You know I started it over two years 
 ago, because I thought it would do the town good 
 and do the rest of us good also. Besides, I have 
 had a little experience in that sort of thing; in 
 fact, I had quite a good deal of experience in cre- 
 ating Old Home Week for our State as a whole. 
 If the people of the State knew what good an 
 Old Home Day, or Week, every year would do 
 them, they would be enthusiastic over it and 
 prepare for it most cheerfully. 
 
 After I got the Salem Re-union started, I 
 1 66 
 
€>lt) l^ome ^av 
 
 found I could get nobody from whom I could 
 get a history of the town so well as from Wal- 
 ter. He has lived there always, has been a mem- 
 ber of the Board of Selectmen a good part of 
 the time as well as Town Clerk, has a good 
 memory, and, I suspected, would know more 
 about the history of the town and the people, 
 or could more easily find it, than anybody else. 
 
 So far as other families are concerned, there 
 was no disposition, you can readily believe, to 
 slight any family. We had to take what we 
 could get and all we could get and do just as 
 well with it as possible. There are a lot of 
 families who should have had a part in the his- 
 tory of the town — I mean a detailed history 
 giving more than the simple chronology, which 
 was all that Walter tried to give. But they will 
 have their chance in the future. 
 
 One of the best things about an Old Home 
 Week is that it brings in a lot of information 
 about people and events that makes good mate- 
 rial for a local history, and eventually it is in a 
 History, where otherwise there would be none. 
 
 167 
 
Piott mminimnm 
 
 Mr. Chas. H. Pease, of Holliston, 
 Mass. J son of Albert Pease, writes : 
 
 I am very glad you had so enjoyable and 
 profitable a time as reports show, both from the 
 local press, and from some persons who were 
 there. I should much have liked to be there, 
 but circumstances prevented. I should have 
 written something to the Commitee but did not 
 see a chance to do so after I became aware of 
 the date of the event. 
 
 Yes, by all means, print my father's sketch. 
 I shall be glad to have it in booklet form, as 
 well as the contributions of others. 
 
 Mrs. Carrie Nash Underwood, Fayette, 
 Maine, writes : 
 
 We cannot cease to thank you, and to feel 
 profoundly grateful to you, for being instrumen- 
 tal in conferring so much pleasure, yes, happi- 
 ness upon us, personally, on that memorable 
 17th day of August, 1904. To say that it was 
 a " red letter day," would express it too moder- 
 ately. That it was in its line, the happiest day 
 168 
 
€>lt) 1$omt ?^at 
 
 of my life, is but the utterance of simple truth. 
 That the day has passed, and that nothing is left 
 of it but a memory, is far from what it appears to 
 me. The radiant day, the lovely old landscape, 
 those faces so familiar in the long ago, those 
 warm, true and friendly hand-clasps, those voices, 
 those kindly words of greeting, — everything con- 
 nected with it^ is constantly with me ! I am living 
 in its atmosphere every day ! 
 
 169 
 
EXTRACT 
 
 FROM THE FARMINGTON CHRONICLE 
 OF AUGUST 24th, 1904 
 
 Commencing on Sunday, August 14th, 
 Old Home Week was most appropriately 
 opened in Salem, when the forenoon ser- 
 vice was conducted in the Union Church 
 by Rev. Leonard Hutchins of East New 
 Portland, who was a pastor of the Free 
 Baptist Church of Salem for over thirty 
 years. He preached a very instructive and 
 able sermon. At 2.30 p. m. Rev. Abel 
 Pottle, who claims Salem as his birthplace, 
 but who is now preaching and residing at 
 Lisbon Falls, gave us one of his eloquent 
 and instructive sermons which was heard 
 by at least one hundred and twenty-five 
 persons. The church was filled to its ut- 
 most capacity and chairs from the hall and 
 from private houses had to be used to ac- 
 commodate the congregation. 
 170 
 
fatmington Ci^vonicle 
 
 Monday and Tuesday were given to 
 boating, fishing, and driving about the 
 town by the townspeople and visitors from 
 all over New England. 
 
 Then came Wednesday, Old Home 
 Day, which had previously been set apart 
 for a brief history of the town and some 
 reminiscences of former days of Salem 
 and its people. At the early dawn of this 
 day, it was a little cloudy ; but, at 9 a. m., 
 the time set to meet at the Union Church 
 (more familiarly known as " The Town 
 House"), the clouds had vanished and 
 the sun shone in all its brightness. 
 
 On the arrival of the train, the Com- 
 mittee met the guests at the station and 
 escorted them to the village. After pass- 
 ing a short time at the church and shak- 
 ing hands with old acquaintances, the 
 company repaired to the grove to listen 
 to the speakers and partake of the dinner 
 that was being prepared by the ladies. 
 171 
 
Cjcttact from ti^e 
 
 At 10.30 D. C. Heath, president of 
 the day, called the meeting to order and 
 Rev. Abel Pottle offered a fervent prayer. 
 The Address of Welcome was delivered 
 by Walter S. Heath and D. C. Heath 
 responded. Next on the programme was a 
 history of the town by Walter S. Heath, 
 and then throughout the grove rang the 
 strains of Home, Sweet Home. Every one 
 seemed to join in singing this touching 
 old song and not a few tears came to 
 the eyes of the old residents of Salem. 
 Then Rev. Abel Pottle read selections 
 from an old Farmington Chronicle giving 
 the annals of Salem and was listened to 
 attentively by the large audience. 
 
 Next came Charles H. Bangs of Ever- 
 ett, Mass., who read one of his own poems 
 full of music, and closed amid applause. 
 Then D. C. Heath called on Sumner 
 Lovejoy for some music on the fife. He 
 came forward, as did also G. A. Page of 
 172 
 
farminston Ci^tonicle 
 
 Kingfield with his drum, and as all in this 
 vicinity know and have heard Sumner's 
 fife and Page's drum, it is needless to say 
 that the music was thrilling. 
 
 Hon. George Pottle of Lewiston, ex- 
 Mayor and State Assessor, and Rev. 
 Abel Pottle made speeches which were 
 short but very interesting and claimed 
 the entire attention of the audience. El- 
 bridge G. Heath of Auburn was the next 
 speaker, with very interesting remarks, in 
 character relating to the early history of 
 the town. The next speaker called on for 
 remarks was George W. Harris, whose 
 address was followed by the singing of 
 The Old Oaken Bucket. 
 
 And then dinner was announced. And 
 such a dinner ! Just such a dinner as the 
 ladies of Salem get, — "A No. i," so say 
 all that had a sample. Those who ate at 
 the tables set in the grove were supplied 
 in detachments, until all were satisfied. 
 173 
 
Cjctmct from ti^t 
 
 After dinner votes of thanks were heart- 
 ily extended to all who had assisted in 
 making this day of Salem's Old Home 
 Week a success. 
 
 George Underwood of Fayette then 
 addressed the meeting in a very able and 
 interesting manner on topics relating to 
 the welfare of the State in general. Then 
 the topic of our schools and schoolmas- 
 ters, by Hon. Joel Wilbur of Phillips, 
 was ably discussed and was indeed inter- 
 esting. He closed amid enthusiastic ap- 
 plause. 
 
 Next the poem by Mrs. George Un- 
 derwood {nee Carrie Nash) of Fayette 
 was greatly enjoyed and appreciated by 
 the audience. 
 
 Then came the presentation of a cake 
 to the oldest person present who was 
 born in Salem, and this was won by Mrs. 
 Elizabeth L. Harris, who was escorted to 
 the stand by D. C. Heath. Mrs. Harris 
 174 
 
farmtngton Cl)ronicle 
 
 was eighty-six years old on the 6th day 
 of March, 1904. 
 
 With the music of Juld Lang Syne the 
 Old Home Week celebration closed, a 
 successful and delightful day. 
 
 175 
 
OLD HOME DAY MAIL 
 BAG. 
 
 We regret that we cannot publish all 
 the letters received by the Committee. 
 Lack of space limits us to those from 
 very old people, far away, but known to 
 many of you and to such as contain 
 reminiscences, post office addresses, and 
 genealogies, that ought to be preserved. 
 
 FROM MISS GAY, AUGUSTA, MAINE. 
 
 I received your kind letter. I think it will 
 hardly be so I can come up there. I am getting 
 old and feeble. I was eighty years last Friday. 
 I have one brother, Sidney. His home is in . . . 
 Here the dear hand tired and 
 
 Mrs. E. M. Gay, the niece of Miss Gay, 
 completed the letter, saying : 
 
 Aunt Phronie has written so far and wishes 
 me to finish, as she is tired and it is a long time 
 since she has written to any one. Although she 
 176 
 
€)ID l^ome ?^a^ 0iail I5a8 
 
 is the oldest of the family, she has outHved them 
 all except her brother Sidney, who has been very 
 ill but is improving. I do not know his address. 
 The eldest brother, Benjamin, who was my 
 husband, died in 1880, and a sister five years 
 younger than herself in 1896. Her mother, who 
 was a Turner, died in 1879 and her father in 
 January, 1889. She is very lonely and is long- 
 ing to be with them, but tries to be patient. 
 Perhaps you may remember the Turner family, 
 Charles, Gilman, Sidney and Oliver, and sev- 
 eral daughters. Mother was Abbie and I have 
 met Aunt Chloe. They were an excellent family 
 but they have all passed away. Uncle Gilman 
 was for many years Superintendent of the State 
 House. John Turner, a son of Charles Turner, 
 is living now in Charlestown, Mass. 
 
 Mr. John Turner of Charlestown writes : 
 
 Aunt Phronie was never married. Her father's 
 name was Gay and he married my father's sister 
 Betsey Turner. My brother and I were born 
 in Salem and lived there until I was three and 
 he ten. We then moved to West Sumner, 
 177 
 
mh l^omc HBav jmatl I3ag 
 
 where we lived until 1845. Then my mother 
 died and home broke up. We have since been 
 in Massachusetts. I was seventy-eight years old 
 the 23rd of last January. 
 
 from f. g. mills, lowell, mass. 
 
 Dear Cousin Walter and All Old 
 Friends and Neighbors at Home : — I feel 
 very sorry, and my wife is much disappointed, 
 because we find at the last moment we shall 
 not be able to come to Salem. We have been 
 looking forward to this Old Home Week and 
 Reunion for a year and it seems too bad to be 
 disappointed, but there is a Strike here now and 
 I cannot get away. I am very sorry not to be 
 present, for I feel it is more than likely to be 
 the last opportunity we may have to meet at our 
 old home at the foot of Mt. Abram. Our minds 
 and hearts will be with you all on the 17th and 
 we know you will enjoy the day. 
 
 from miss JULIA H. MAY, STRONG, MAINE. 
 
 Dear Mr. Pottle : — My sister taught in 
 Salem long ago ; I do not know just the date, 
 178 
 
€>ID i^ome ©at jmail laag 
 
 but you probably know. I was south, I think, 
 at the time, and so never went to Salem while 
 she was there, but I remember her letters and 
 her descriptions of the place and people and 
 especially of her boarding place and her pupils. 
 I think she boarded with three old people who 
 were unmarried, a brother and two sisters, who 
 were quaint and interesting and very kind to 
 her; I have forgotten the name. I remember 
 she spoke often of your people and think some 
 one of them was School Agent. She had some 
 delightful scholars whom she often mentioned 
 in later life. Among these were several of your 
 brothers I think, and some of the Blakes. She 
 always looked back upon that school with de- 
 light. 
 
 I was never in Salem, except to pass through 
 in the cars, and have no right to be with you 
 today, but I am interested in all Old Home Re- 
 unions and I want to send my congratulations 
 to the people of Salem. I think my father had 
 many friends there in the long long ago. 
 
 179 
 
€>lti i^ome ®a^ jEail ^Baij 
 
 Miss May wrote also at the same date 
 to Mr. Heath : 
 
 I am thinking of your Reunion at Salem to- 
 morrow and am glad that what has been so near 
 your heart and thought has at length materi- 
 alized. I trust the day will be all that you ex- 
 pect, and more. I love your Mt. Abram and 
 almost feel that I have some rights of posses- 
 sion. The view of it from my childhood's home 
 was one of my first delights, and the view from 
 what we call the Store Hill in Strong is more 
 beautiful than any mountain view I know, and 
 I know a great many. 
 
 Mt. Abram deep within my heart. 
 As upward in the sky. 
 Of memory a precious part. 
 Your triple summits lie. 
 
 Trusting that the day may be delightful, and 
 that you may enjoy many others of the kind, 
 and thanking you heartily for all your unselfish 
 interest in your native county, I am. 
 Your friend, 
 
 Julia H. May. 
 i8o 
 
€)ID i^ottte ©ar j^ail I3ag 
 
 FROM F. S. SMITH, LOWELL, MASS. 
 
 In my remembrance of Salem there is nothing 
 that stands out so clear as the kindness I have 
 received from many of its people. I remember 
 that grand old monument, Mt. Abram. I re- 
 member the mountain streams as they sparkled 
 in the sunlight, and the speckled trout darting 
 through their waters. As I look back some 
 thirty years or more I seem to see a bare-foot 
 boy, with a broad-brimmed straw hat, or per- 
 chance no brim at all, and in thought I am that 
 boy again, with rod and line. I also remember 
 the little red school-house under the hill and 
 in fancy I picture the scholars gathered there, 
 fitting themselves to go out and battle with the 
 world, and I ask, where are they now ? Some 
 have gone to the last rest ; others have gone 
 out and made a successful struggle in life. It 
 seems to me that the pure atmosphere of Salem 
 must be productive of pure thoughts and honest 
 motives. 
 
 God bless the old town, and God bless the 
 Pine Tree State, and you who are gathered 
 i8i 
 
€>ID l^Dttie ?^at JHail I3ag 
 
 within its sacred borders, may your memories 
 of the past years spent there be as pleasant to 
 you as mine are to me ! 
 
 Remember me to all those who there knew me. 
 
 January 2ist, 1903, Charles H. Bangs, 
 of Boston, wrote : 
 
 Offhand, I can supply you the address of 
 B. F. Bradbury, who has been in business in 
 Boston for many years. Perhaps you did not 
 recognize him as an old resident. He has 
 spoken to me a number of times about Salem 
 and he was well acquainted with my father. 
 
 Henry Heath died in California I should say 
 fifteen or twenty years ago. He was employed 
 in the mint there for a good many years. Jno. 
 O. died in Boston some eight or ten years ago. 
 He was a large contractor and erected the city 
 building in Cambridge. Jno. Turner, whose card 
 I enclose, of the firm of Jno. Turner & Co., 
 was born in Salem, Jan. 23, 1827. His present 
 residence is 351 Main St., Charlestown. He is 
 a director in the Bunker Hill National Bank. 
 He moved from Salem to Sumner, Me., where 
 182 
 
£)ID i^ome ?E>at iHail 03ag 
 
 his boyhood was spent. At a reunion held in 
 Sumner some years ago he presented the town 
 with a flag. Horatio G. Turner Is a member 
 of the same firm and resides in Dedham. His 
 postoffice address is Ashcroft. He was born in 
 Salem, Jan. 14, 1829. They moved to Sumner 
 the following year. He was introduced to me 
 last year in my office by the Hon. Joel Wilbur, 
 Phillips, Me., the two being great friends. 
 They are now on a trip to California, and Mr. 
 Turner is not expected to return till some time 
 in March. 
 
 MRS. PARMELIA E. FRENCH, GALESVILLE, 
 WISCONSIN, JANUARY 9, I9O3. 
 
 It has been nearly fifty years since I left 
 Salem, and its pleasant associations are ever 
 in my memory. But few are left there now. 
 Many have moved away, or have passed be- 
 yond the River. I do not know the address of 
 any one but my own relatives, nephews and 
 nieces. 
 
 Mrs. French added, July 28, 1904: 
 183 
 
€)ID 1$omt ®a^ jEail isag 
 
 It is with regret that I tell you that I cannot be 
 present at the Reunion. My health will not per- 
 mit me to take the journey. I wish so much I could 
 be there and shake hands with you all personally. 
 We are so changed in our looks, I wonder if we 
 could recognize our old friends. I shall think of 
 them all as they used to look fifty years ago. 
 
 Give them my best wishes, and regards. I 
 wish I could be with them. Shall think of them, 
 hoping they will have a jolly time. Accept my 
 best wishes. 
 
 DR. A. W. STINCHFIELD, ROCHESTER, MINN., 
 MAY 4TH, 1904. 
 
 Nothing could give me more pleasure than 
 to be in Maine during " Old Home Week," 
 and to spend a day in Salem. I think Wesley 
 Soule of this city was born in, or at least lived 
 in, Salem in his youthful days. 
 
 JAMES C. KEENE, RENSSELAER, N. Y. 
 
 Old Home Friends : — I have received a 
 programme announcing the coming celebration 
 of " Old Home Week " at the Town House, 
 184 
 
€>ID l^ome ©ar i^ail 13a8 
 
 Salem, and I regret very much my inability to 
 attend. Let me assure you that the old town of 
 Salem is especially dear to me, because it is 
 where I first saw the light of day and spent 
 twenty-two years^of my life. Well do I remem- 
 ber every old familiar spot around the farm and 
 neighborhood where I played as a boy, the little 
 streams that used to be full of trout, and those 
 grand old woods. Ah ! there is no place like the 
 land of our birth or the home of our childhood. 
 Many years ago a poet wrote : 
 
 There is not a spot in the wide-peopled earth 
 So dear to the heart as the land of our birth; 
 'Tis the home of our childhood, the beautiful spot. 
 Which mem' ry retains when all else is forgot. 
 
 May the blessings of God 
 
 Ever hallow the sod. 
 And its valleys and hills by our children be trod. 
 
 Can the language of strangers in accents unknown 
 Send a thrill to our bosom like that of our own ? 
 The face may be fair, and the smile may be bland, 
 But it breathes not the tones of our dear native land. 
 185 
 
€)ID i^ome JBav i^ail I3ag 
 
 There is no spot on earth 
 Like the land of our birth, 
 Where heroes keep guard o'er the altar and hearth. 
 
 How sweet is the language which taught us to blend 
 The dear name of parent, of husband, and friend; 
 Which taught us to lisp on our mother's soft breast 
 The ballads she sung as she rocked us to rest ! 
 
 May the blessings of God 
 
 Ever hallow the sod; 
 And its valleys and hills by our children be trod ! 
 
 FROM MRS. ROBERT ARMOUR (hELEN E. 
 WHITTIEr), 920 EIGHTEENTH STREET, 
 WASHINGTON, D. C. 
 
 Dear Friends of my Childhood : — A 
 strange feeling of homesickness comes over me 
 to-day as I sit here unable to look into your 
 faces except in imagination. I find on the 
 program the names of some whose faces are 
 pictured indelibly on my memory. One whose 
 name is prefixed by " Hon." I see as a little 
 dark-haired boy at school, first in every study, 
 ambitious to succeed, almost always at the head 
 186 
 
mh l^ome ©at jEail laag 
 
 of his class, and always ahead of many who 
 were his superiors in years only. I see him one 
 lovely summer's day standing on the bank of a 
 little brook, trying with a long stick to splash 
 water into the face of a little girl on the bridge. 
 The girl playfully picked up a pebble, thinking 
 to throw it into the water at his feet and spatter 
 the water over him. A moment later she was 
 stricken dumb with horror to see the blood start 
 from a wound in the beautiful forehead. As he 
 was being led into the school house by his bro- 
 thers one of them said, " I believe she did it on 
 purpose," and the sadness and sorrow of the 
 little heart that meant no wrong can never be 
 described. All through my childhood and woman- 
 hood I have wished to hear him say, " You did 
 not mean to do it." He is to give to-day " Some 
 memories of the Eastern part of the town." I 
 wonder if he recalls this little incident of his 
 boyhood ? All the other names on the program 
 are familiar, and many others that I have known 
 whose names do not appear will be with you, I 
 am sure. How I long to take each of you by 
 187 
 
€)lti l^ome ?^at M^H ^ag 
 
 the hand, look into your eyes and tell you my 
 heart is full of sweet memories of you all ! 
 
 One year ago, with my sister Clara, I was 
 enabled through the kindness of my friends, 
 Walter S. Heath and his dear wife, to visit my 
 birthplace on the Phillips road. We found it 
 almost a trackless wilderness, and not a stick of 
 the old house was to be seen. The roads were 
 quite familiar, some houses seemed to be just 
 the same, others had changed, and still others, 
 including the little red school house, were gone. 
 They remain only as memories of the past. 
 One day we drove to my last home in Salem, 
 where I lived between the ages of five and 
 eighteen, under the shadow of dear old Mount 
 Abram. I well remember sitting as a child at 
 the north window of the old home watching 
 fanciful cloud-shadows gliding down the moun- 
 tain side. As I looked upon its graceful out- 
 lines, there they were as of old trooping down 
 over the curves of its great green side, and in 
 my mind I saw the same little girl at the win- 
 dow watching with big, gray, wondering eyes, 
 i88 
 
£)lt) i^ome JBav Slpail I3ag 
 
 in which the shadow of clouds seemed to lin- 
 ger, and I thanked God that it was His sun- 
 shine that made the shadows. Oh how beauti- 
 ful the mountain looked to me that day ! Every 
 graceful line from east to west of the grand 
 old range met its counterpart in the treasures 
 of my memory, and its giant breast towered 
 above us like the unchangeable love of God. 
 The pastures with the great flat rock at the 
 line fence where we played at housekeeping 
 under the sheltering trees all were there, but the 
 old house was gone. When we came back 
 down the hill in the main road towards the 
 little black brook, I saw the path we used to 
 run down for a nearer cut to the road, stop- 
 ping, when we had time to throw pebbles into 
 the clear water and watch the ripples form, and 
 my eyes filled with tears for the dear ones 
 whose little feet lingered there in the beautiful 
 long ago. All but two of us have long since 
 crossed the River. 
 
 When you sing " Sweet Home," " Old 
 Oaken Bucket " and " Auld Lang Syne " to- 
 189 
 
€)ID l^ome JBav J^ail OBag 
 
 day, may I hope that you will send one thought 
 toward the absent ones, for my heart will be 
 with you. 
 
 Letters of regret were received also 
 from Mr. and Mrs. H. G. Turner (Jus- 
 tina Heath), of Dedham, Mass. Mrs. 
 Turner is the sister of Elbridge Heath, 
 George Heath, and the late Albert Heath. 
 She wrote : 
 
 We are very sorry not to be with you all 
 in the celebration of Old Home Day at Salem. 
 Precious memories cluster around the dear old 
 home of my childhood. It seems but yesterday 
 that I was there, a little barefoot girl and very 
 happy. We had father, mother, and sister. 
 Some of them have been called Home. God 
 bless their memory ! Brother Elbridge will be 
 there. I am sorry not to be with him. God 
 bless you all ! I do hope that next year we will 
 come together again and, if spared, we shall be 
 with you. 
 
 And from the following : 
 190 
 
€)lti i^ome 'mav JHail I5ag 
 
 Mrs. America Walton, Lowell, Mass. 
 Mary Emma Ellsworth, Merriam Park, 
 
 St. Paul, Minn. 
 Benjamin F. Day, Westford, Mass. 
 Mrs. Frank Wyman (nee Clara L, Dol- 
 
 bier). New Vineyard, Me. 
 Mrs. F. C. Butler (nee Nellie Luce), 
 
 Lowell, Mass. 
 Mrs. J. S. Milliken (nee Annie Lowery 
 
 Williams). 
 R. J. Mayo, Philadelphia, Pa. 
 C. L. Pottle, Larimore, N. D., who 
 
 wrote : — 
 
 Charles Bangs was a chum and room-mate 
 of mine while attending school at Auburn, 
 Maine, in 1865, I think. Walter Heath was 
 our teacher in the little, red schoolhouse down 
 under the hill. 
 
 Albert E. Jones, 1 156 Washburn Avenue, 
 Topeka, Kansas, who wrote : — 
 A great many of the old families, such as 
 
 the Winslow, Richards, Folsom, and Davis fami- 
 191 
 
£DID l^ome ©at jEail OBag 
 
 lies, and others, went to Wisconsin and Min- 
 nesota in 1855-56. 
 
 Clinton J. Richards, Superintendent of 
 Walpole District, Walpole, N. H., 
 writes : — 
 
 My grandparents on both sides were among 
 the pioneers of that town. Four generations 
 of my mother's family are represented on the 
 headstones of the old cemetery at Salem. 
 
 J. N. Davis, Grand Meadow, Mower 
 Co., Minn., wrote : — 
 
 James Folsom has been dead for several years. 
 Melzar Folsom is at Markesan, Green Lake 
 Co., Wis. Richard Folsom is at West Concord, 
 Minn., and Sam Winslow at Mankato, Minn. 
 We are well. I have three children married 
 and two younger ones at home attending school. 
 One graduates from the High School here this 
 spring and wants to enter college in September. 
 
 George Clinton Heath, Morrison, 111. 
 Mr. Heath wrote : 
 192 
 
€)lti l^ome ®a^ jmail CBag 
 
 I am the third son of Simeon A. Heath, who 
 was the son of Elijah H. Heath. My father's 
 brothers were Benjamin, Elijah, Abraham, and 
 Harrison, if I remember correctly. I was born 
 in or near Salem in 1854. Soon after, my father 
 removed to Hallowell and later he went to Au- 
 gusta and then to Boston. In 1876, I came 
 West and settled on the fertile prairie near 
 Morrison, Whiteside Co., 111. My parents came 
 later. My father died at Morrison in 1 891, and 
 is buried at Hallowell, Maine. I have one son, 
 Stacie Rose Heath, who is now twenty-one and 
 is located at Leavenworth, Wash. 
 
 Warren S. Voter, West Farmington, who 
 "was born in Salem, Me. in 1845 and 
 loves the old town still, but is unable to 
 come to the reunion on account of the 
 G. A. R. meeting in Boston." 
 
 Dr. Oliver W. Turner, Augusta, Me., son 
 of W. H. Turner, who was a Salemite, 
 and during his lifetime always interested 
 in the old place. 
 
 193 
 
€)ID i^ome ?^ar i^ail I3ag 
 
 E. K. Humphrey, Lowell, Mass., born in 
 Salem and lived there until four years 
 of age. 
 
 D. P. Blake, Frankfort, Indiana, the sole 
 survivor of the four brothers who went 
 West. 
 
 A. C. Otis, Philadelphia, Pa., manager of 
 Union Mutual Life Insurance Com- 
 pany of Portland, Me. ; nephew of Mr. 
 D. P. Blake of Frankfort, Indiana, and 
 son of Mrs. Lucinda P. Otis, still living 
 at Readfield, Maine, eighty-two years 
 of age, and very feeble. Mr. Otis wrote : 
 " I was in Salem in September of 1902. 
 The old town looks very different from 
 what it did in the days of my child- 
 hood." 
 
 D. D. Graffam, Phillips, Maine, who left 
 Salem forty years ago. 
 
 E. R. Heath, Marblehead, Mass. 
 James C. Pottle, Sanger, Fresno Co., Col., 
 
 who left Salem in 1870, and has not 
 194 
 
€)ID l^ome ©at j^ail QBag 
 
 been in the village since 1872, though 
 he was at Kingfield in 1896. Mr. Pot- 
 tle went to North Dakota in 1880, and 
 says that since that time he has not seen 
 a person there he ever saw before, except 
 relatives who have come out to visit 
 him. 
 
 Rev. Ernest K. Caswell, Cambridge, Mass., 
 whose mother was a Salem woman. 
 
 Mrs. Julia (Hunter) Tarbox, sister of the 
 Editor of The Chronicle, wrote as fol- 
 lows : — 
 
 I think I was never in Salem more than 
 once. Several of my father's uncles, Dodge by 
 name, lived and died there, and once with my 
 aunt, Rachie Porter, I went to a church social 
 at Mr. William Dodge's. My father's mother, 
 Rachel Dodge, was a native of Salem, but her 
 married life was spent in Strong, and the visits 
 of my childhood with relatives in Strong are 
 some of the brightest spots of my life. 
 
 Mrs. Deborah Howard, daughter of Mr. 
 195 
 
€>ID l^ome ?^a^ 0iail QBag 
 
 Albert Hayford, wrote from Arkansas 
 City, Kansas, April ii, 1904: — 
 
 No one would enjoy being there more than 
 I would, but I shall have to deny myself the 
 pleasure, owing to the long distance I am from 
 Salem. My best wishes and prayers, however, 
 will be with you for the success of the meeting. 
 
 There was only one other person here who 
 was born in Salem, and he died a few years ago. 
 He was W. H. Pottle. 
 
 A genealogy of the Hayford family has re- 
 cently been published by Otis Hayford of Can- 
 ton, Maine, giving much interesting history of 
 that family, both in England and America, prov- 
 ing by copies of old Plymouth records that it is 
 one of the oldest families in the country. With 
 John Alden and Myles Standish, the Hayfords 
 founded Duxbury, Mass. 
 
 196 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 By Mr. M. W. Lovejoy 
 
 Under date of January 22, 1903, Mr. 
 Lovejoy wrote from Seattle, Washington, 
 as follows : 
 
 '' It would give me a great deal of pleasure 
 to attend, but my business affairs will prevent 
 me from so doing, I was back there two years 
 ago last summer. Salem, the dear, old town 
 — still the sweetest spot on this earth to me, 
 although I have been away from there many 
 years ! 
 
 " My visit there two years ago lasted until 
 well along into September. One of that month's 
 loveliest days, I borrowed a gun and set out to 
 go over my old hunting grounds around Mt. 
 Abram. I believe now that I borrowed the gun 
 more for the purpose of getting out into the 
 woods alone than with any intention of shoot- 
 ing anything. I had not gone far up the moun- 
 
 197 
 
BeminijtJcencejJ 
 
 tain side when I came to one of the '■ old spots.' 
 I was quite willing to sit down there and linger 
 for a while. The sun had well nigh settled be- 
 hind the woods beyond, but seemed to halt, as 
 it did for Joshua, and to lend a little more to 
 the scene I already enjoyed. Presently several 
 squirrels hopped along on the ground and ca- 
 pered, then leaped up a near-by tree, one after 
 the other. They reached quite the top-most 
 bough and then opened up one of the merriest 
 chippers to which I had ever listened. A little 
 way beyond, but quite secure, as I suppose they 
 thought, were half a dozen blue jays talking 
 to me in one of their numerous, saucy dialects. 
 Little birds also were scratching and rustling 
 among the crisp leaves that had already fallen. 
 Do you suppose I fired a shot ? Not so. I 
 would have thrown that old gun down the 
 mountain side as far as my strength would per- 
 mit, first ! The place where I stood was to me 
 holy ground, surrounded by a holy atmosphere, 
 and I would not desecrate it by the report of 
 a gun — to say nothing of harming the sweet 
 
 198 
 
15V JHr* JE. W. tottjov 
 
 company, the only kind that I wanted, which 
 the good Lord had sent there to entertain me. 
 
 " This trifling incident will show you a little 
 of how dear the old town seemed to me. I 
 take a great deal of pleasure in recalling the old 
 scenes there. The mountain and its green pas- 
 tures, the plain below with its winding stream, 
 skirted with trees and green-topped bushes, 
 form a picture that often comes to my mind. 
 My boyhood days were spent there during the 
 seventies and I probably knew every person 
 who then lived in the town. Many of them, of 
 course, have passed away to the better land 
 and many are living elsewhere. I know the 
 addresses of but few of those living out of 
 town. 
 
 " You, no doubt, know of ' Uncle Johnny 
 Richards.' He died a year or two ago. The 
 youngest son, Clinton, lives in Aroostook 
 County somewhere. I do not know his ad- 
 dress. The oldest, Isaac C, lives at Golden- 
 dale, this State, but I have never seen him since 
 living here. I am sure that Mr. George W. 
 
 199 
 
Eeminijsccncos 
 
 Harris and Mr. Walter Heath, old residents, 
 can give many incidents of old town people 
 and happenings. 
 
 " If I cannot be there in bodily presence, 
 you have the liberty to imagine me there in 
 spirit, enjoying all the good things that may 
 take place." 
 
 August 2, 1904, Mr. Lovejoy wrote 
 again as follows : — 
 
 *' The thought of beiAg again in the old town 
 and meeting old acquaintances so thrilled me 
 that my half-formed resolution to attend your 
 meeting became almost completed, when the 
 other thought came to me : ' Your business 
 matters will not permit you to go.' Could I 
 meet the friends of my early manhood, which 
 was spent there in the old town, I certainly 
 should feel that this were a little the best joy 
 that had ever come to me. 
 
 " Dear old Salem, you are to me, of all places 
 on earth, the hallowed spot ! I see you now be- 
 fore me — your green fields and pastures, your 
 
 200 
 
15V i^t, 01. w. toum 
 
 hills and valleys, your winding streams, your 
 little hamlet, your farm-houses dotting the land- 
 scape here and there, and your stately old moun- 
 tain. I see moving figures on your farms, in 
 your houses, at your schools, and within your 
 churches — all of which are a real joy and an 
 inspiration. I go back to the time when I first 
 set foot on your soil, in the year 1868, and take 
 a survey down to the time when I severed my 
 home connections there in 1882. 
 
 " My folks moved there in the spring from 
 Kingsfield, about the first of April. It was a 
 warm day and the footing, as usual about that 
 time of the year, was partly on snow and partly 
 on bare ground. We arrived there about noon 
 of the day. I then felt homesick — everything 
 was so different from the place we had left. It 
 all stands out so clearly in my mind to-day ! 
 We were soon settled and father, with the help 
 of my brothers, Orrin, Frank, Walter,and myself, 
 began farming in earnest. It was not long before 
 we knew everybody in town and, I suppose, 
 everybody there knew us. I see now, passing 
 
 201 
 
!KemintiScencej3 
 
 before me, the faces of George and John Briggs, 
 Albert Perry, David Harlow, Josiah Pease, John 
 Richards (and along the road on which these 
 men lived the little red schoolhouse, at which I 
 taught two or more terms), and also the faces of 
 Uncle Leadbetter and John Leadbetter ; and, 
 on another road, Samuel Whitney, a Mr. Gould, 
 Eli Brackley, Samuel Perry, and William Dol- 
 bier ; then, going east from the road leading to 
 Mt. Abram, and on which lived the five last 
 named persons, by way of Oliver's Mills, is my 
 old home, and along this road I see the faces of 
 Uncle Daniel Billington, Frances Billington (his 
 sister), Andrew Davis, who later sold his place 
 to Cyrus Ellsworth, Rufus Blake, Henry Wills, 
 and Jeremiah Pottle ; and, over North and nearer 
 the mountain, Thomas Bradbury, Trystram 
 Davis, and Franklin County's veteran school 
 teacher, Charles Dolbier. Then, going west 
 from the road leading to the mountain, before 
 described, are Bartlett Lovejoy, Daniel Watson, 
 Isaac Hayford, Zebedee Hayford, Wash. Keene, 
 Uncle Willis, William Seavey, John Cunning- 
 
 202 
 
ham, Roscoe Heath, Waterman Barker, Ford. 
 Voter, widow Sarah Lovejoy, George Heath, 
 Simeon Turner, and the Wymans. Then, be- 
 ginning on the so-called Phillips Road, near the 
 town line, and coming easterly, I see Albert 
 Pease, Philip Harris, Uncle Hodgeman, Jere- 
 miah Ellsworth, Jonathan Daggett ; then, on 
 the road leading more directly from Salem Mills 
 to Strena, and going south, I see Frederick 
 Richards, Uncle Williams, who lived where 
 brother Walter now lives, Uncle Mayo, Nelson 
 Harris, Stephen Mayo, and Freedom Richards ; 
 going east from the road upon which these six 
 last named lived, I see George W. Harris, Uncle 
 Ben Heath, Joseph Dodge, and, near the foot 
 of the mill pond, in the little dwelling and store, 
 I see a form quietly sitting and smoking his pipe. 
 He is looking down to the floor and telling of 
 some event that happened at Livermore many 
 years before. You may know who it is. 
 
 " I stand on the little bridge leading across 
 the Curvo, just a little way from the store and 
 at the foot of the mill pond. I look south and 
 
 203 
 
Btminfecencejs 
 
 observe how pretty the pond is. On its east 
 and north sides I see, skirted along the water's 
 edge, white birch, alders, willows, tall grass, and 
 rushes ; on its west side, reaching out from the 
 water, a wide green meadow extending for a 
 long way north and, from up among the rushes, 
 I hear the voices of frogs. Some of them hoarse 
 and guttural, and some of them musical. In the 
 north, I see what to me is the grandest mountain 
 in all the world — old Abram. It is a majestic 
 monument. It is silent and mysterious and speaks 
 to my soul. I don't know what it is saying, in 
 all its silence and mystery, but my soul answers 
 in its own unknown language and I am satisjfied. 
 Resting there a little while longer, I hear the 
 hum of the mills just below the bridge and I see 
 moving about them the faces of George Mills 
 and Fred, and later of Samuel Hinds and son, 
 Warren. The elder is attending to the grinding 
 of grains and Warren is attending to the saw. 
 I see men with teams taking away newly-sawed 
 lumber and grists from the flour mill. Uncle 
 Hodgeman has just gone away with his bag of 
 
 204 
 
15V M^* P^* ^* Lotejo^ 
 
 newly-made flour. He sits erect in the middle 
 of the wagon seat and his horse is speeding away 
 as though she were anxious to get back to the 
 pasture. 
 
 " Bart Lovejoy is driving the best yoke of 
 oxen in town, he believes, loaded with a big 
 spruce, towards the saw mill; and Luther Childs 
 is standing near by whittling, and looking on as 
 though he were interested. Uncle Willis is sit- 
 ting on the steps of Mr. Graffam's store reading 
 the New York World, and Jimmie Keene is 
 waiting at the post office for his mail. Edwin 
 Hayford is there with Clarion, and is trying to 
 get Clarion to go back home with him. Clarion 
 says he will go ' in a minute ' — but forgets. 
 
 " My mind's kinetoscope works again. It is 
 Sunday. We are at the town house. Reverend 
 Albert Heath is the preacher. Everybody who 
 can get into the building is there. We like to 
 hear him. He is earnest, tender hearted, and 
 eloquent. . . . Another Sunday, and the preacher 
 is Elder Leonard Hutchins. We all listen with 
 earnest interest. We know him to be heartily 
 
 205 
 
Mtminimntt^ 
 
 interested for us all. There are Freedom Rich- 
 ards, Nelson Harris, Mrs. George Harris, and 
 Olive Hinds in the choir. 
 
 " The scene again changes. It is winter. Who 
 are teaching in the schools ? George W. Har- 
 ris, Charles Dolbier, and Carrie Nash. Walter 
 Heath is Superintendent. One District has a 
 twelve weeks term, one ten, and one eight ; but 
 scholars in one district are about equal in profi- 
 ciency to those in the others. The shorter the 
 term, the harder they study. The winter is long 
 and cold. We have revival meetings going on 
 during the evenings. Some are converted to stay ; 
 but some, not at the time thinking how hard it 
 is to leave off old habits and reform the char- 
 acter, go back into the old ways. They remain 
 good citizens but feel strange and restrained in 
 trying to keep within church ways. Some, even, 
 feel thus who yet are Christians in all the term 
 implies. 
 
 " It is summer again and more scenes are 
 presented. I am walking towards the old moun- 
 tain. The hot sun, double-disked, is looking 
 
 206 
 
13^ Pit. 01. W. JLoi)e/or 
 
 steadily down from the deep blue sky. I see 
 the heated atmosphere shimmering over green 
 fields and pastures. I hear the ravishing music 
 of the thrush, hidden in the little thicket near 
 by. I hear the droning murmur of wild bees 
 flitting about and searching among wild flowers, 
 and I hear the voices of lowing cattle pastured 
 on the mountain slope. From some distant 
 tree comes, swelling over the land, the long- 
 drawn-out buzz of the harvest-fly. Noisy brooks 
 are coursing their way down the mountain side, 
 and the old mountain, in all its majesty — 
 time-defying — stands pointing to the mysteri- 
 ous blue above. Such as these give one a spell 
 that is never forgotten, and ought not to be. 
 I pause, lost in wonder and ecstasy. I look 
 again and the sun has settled behind the west- 
 ern slope. The air is cooler and is in song with 
 myriads of insects. Grasshoppers have begun 
 to lisp and crickets to chirp. The cuckoo is 
 singing in the valley below. Scattered little 
 frogs are piping to each other their calls and 
 answers. I am a little lonely, but it is sweeter 
 
 207 
 
Mtminimnct^ 
 
 to stay than to go, and I remain until the music 
 has ceased. 
 
 " I love the old town. It was here that I 
 first caught a glimpse of the world as it is. It 
 was here that I came to manhood, was seized 
 with ambitions, met with little disappointments, 
 and won little successes — in short, it was here 
 that I caught a glimpse of the world-school 
 discipline that I was to receive and now have 
 received. 
 
 " I have given the names of many of the 
 older people who resided there when I did, es- 
 pecially during the early part of my residence. 
 I remember them all, and all the younger people. 
 What a pleasure it would be to me to meet them 
 and shake their hands. Nearly all these older 
 residents have now passed over to the silent 
 majority. 
 
 " How much praise we ought to give to those 
 old settlers. Think what large families some of 
 them brought up to become citizens of our be- 
 loved country ! Many of them have made the 
 world better for having lived in it. I wonder. 
 
 208 
 
"B^ Pit. Pi. w. noum 
 
 when I observe how much easier it is now to get 
 a livelihood than it used to be, how these parents 
 with their small farms, some of them rough 
 and hard to work, could, with the little means 
 at their command, have accomplished so much. 
 I know it could have happened only by working 
 very hard, nearly or quite all the day, and often 
 by burning midnight oil. 
 
 " I wish I had the time to speak of all those 
 I knew — residents of Salem — but. I have not, 
 and, too, it would take up too much of your time 
 to read what I should say ; but there are some 
 whose faces stand out so vividly in my mind 
 that I will venture to make mention of them. 
 I observe, on your programme, that you are to 
 have present with you Mrs. C. F. Underwood 
 (nee Carrie Nash). She was a teacher in the 
 school that used to be in the north part of the 
 town, located on the road leading from my old 
 home to Oliver's Mills. I do not remember what 
 winter it was, but I was one of her pupils and 
 am glad I was. I remember very distinctly some 
 of her work and some events connected directly 
 
 209 
 
^tmini^tmct^ 
 
 or indirectly with the school. If I were present, 
 I am sure I should, in addressing her, call her, 
 some times at least, Carrie. And that is what we 
 called her when she was our teacher. I believe 
 she did not object, and we all thought it better 
 than to say those/reezy words. Miss Nash. Well, 
 now, I would say : ' Carrie, don't you remem- 
 ber when you and some of the pupils that were 
 riding with you got thrown out of the big pung 
 into the snow near the bridge crossing the little 
 brook that runs near the present site of the old 
 schoolhouse, and that you, in your tumble, made 
 a large hole in the snow ? And don't you remem- 
 ber that that funny old fellow, Silas Handy, who 
 then was making his home with Mr. Billington, 
 who lived near the school building, said that 
 when he saw that hole in the snow he " smelled 
 a rat " ? His remark, I remember, was very 
 amusing to you at the time. I thought then 
 that the old fellow Handy said what he did in a 
 figurative way — meaning that from the imprint 
 in the snow he thought a serious accident had 
 taken place ; but, since that, I have thought it 
 
 210 
 
13t i^r* jm* W. to\>tm 
 
 might be that he thought that there were rats large 
 enough to make a hole as large as the one in the 
 snow and that one of them had the night before 
 passed that way. You remembered the spot for 
 some time, as you designated it as the place 
 where "Uncle Silas smelled the rat." One other 
 event I will relate: You taught us a lesson in 
 geography that went in rhyme. The first stanza 
 ran like this : — 
 
 This earth on which we live is round 
 As any apple ever found ; 
 
 And, as the flies on apples crawl. 
 So men pass round this earthly ball. 
 
 We were repeating this one day, in concert, 
 when one of the boys, I don't like to say who 
 the boy was, dropped out of the ranks and took 
 up something that seemed more exciting. You, 
 without losing your grip on the poem, quietly 
 pushed your fingers through the boy's front hair 
 and, when I looked up, the boy's head was keep- 
 ing accurate time with the accents of the poem. 
 He was good natured and aided you all he could. 
 I laughed, but not then and there, mind you, 
 
 211 
 
Mtminimnct^ 
 
 and thought what a funny thing it was to use a 
 boy's head for a baton.' 
 
 " Of the pupils in the school, besides my own 
 brothers and sisters, I see Charles Blake, George 
 Blake, LaForest, Fred and Frank Ellsworth, 
 Will McKeen, Lucy and Olinda McKeen, 
 Clara, Mahala, and Amos Dolbier, Herman and 
 Charles Lovejoy, Otis Heath, and many other 
 and younger faces. 
 
 " Over in the John Richards' District, as we 
 used to designate it, I used to visit before I 
 taught there, and also at the Mills School. At 
 the former I see Isaac, Freedom, and Clinton 
 Richards, all close students ; Odell and Charles 
 Whitney, John, Emma, Louisa, and Ella Briggs ; 
 and, at the latter, there were George, Nella, and 
 Mary Richards, Frank Graffam, and George 
 Willis, who found it hard work to get over a 
 funny thought; Olive Hinds and Ella Daggett, 
 both very matter-of-fact, Ellen Williams, more 
 or less sober, and Jennie, her sister, with a half 
 sober, kindly face, but who saw more of the 
 comic than of the serious side of life. Ed and 
 
 212 
 
15^ Pit. PL. W. Lobe/or 
 
 Emmons Harris were there, the latter never 
 without a smile ; John Ellsworth, a good mirriic 
 and more or less original ; his brother Ossian, 
 and their sister, whose name I have now for- 
 gotten. Celestia Hayford, who built castles in 
 the air, Ella Hayford, who wondered why things 
 are as they are, and Edwin and Clarion Hayford 
 are all studying — some in silence and some 
 reading their lessons over in a whisper. It is a 
 cold day. The wind is whistling and sighing 
 and the snow is sifting on the outside. The 
 roar of the fire in the old barrel stove, the noise 
 of slate pencils, and moving feet, and the busy 
 study, with some whispering, all combined have 
 a charm for me. It is one of the noises felt to 
 be necessary in the great march of progress. It 
 is a mill that is turning out something that will 
 be useful to the world. 
 
 *' It seems but yesterday that I was a pupil 
 in one of the schools of Charles Dolbier. We 
 always called him Charles. To him I, too, owe 
 a great deal. He taught more than the texts 
 in the schoolbooks. He was a foe to whims. 
 
 213 
 
Mtvxinimnct^ 
 
 He did not believe in ghosts, but he did believe 
 that we have a right to prove all things and 
 hold fast to those that are good. 
 
 *' Four years ago this summer I was back 
 there on a visit. My home, as many of you 
 may know, is now and has been for nearly six- 
 teen years at Seattle, Washington, more than 
 three thousand miles away. I remember the 
 first morning after my arrival. When I awoke, 
 I wondered if it were really true that I was back 
 in the old town — I had so often dreamed of 
 being there before and my dreams had had such 
 a seeming reality that, as true as I write this, I 
 thought : ' What test shall I make to prove 
 that I am really here at Salem ? ' I had only 
 to get up and say, *■ Good morning ' to my folks, 
 look about me, and the reality was apparent. 
 
 " During my visit, I went over to see the old 
 home. There it stood in silence, save when the 
 summer breeze hissed around its walls and roofs, 
 deserted. No familiar face there to look upon. 
 No voice to greet me. All gone, forever gone ! 
 The very thought choked me. But I said to 
 
 214 
 
13^ Pit. Pi. W. ilotelor 
 
 myself, ' This is the way of the earth and 
 earthly idols fall. Cheer up and think of the 
 brighter side.' There was the old well whose 
 cooling water I had so often tasted, but whose 
 oaken bucket had long ago been cast aside. And 
 back of the house was the large rock on which 
 I had so many times stood and watched the 
 moon and stars and looked at the old moun- 
 tain and the outlying landscape. They seemed 
 natural and it was a pleasure to me to look at 
 them. 
 
 " But my letter is already too long and the 
 audience who may hear it are, I perceive, already 
 weary. I should be pleased to mention more 
 names of persons that I know at Salem and the 
 many kindnesses that old friends there have 
 shown me. I want to say this : There is not a 
 person living there, nor any of those who are 
 sleeping in that quiet little cemetery, or else- 
 where, to whom I bear the least ill-will. It is 
 a pleasure to me to think of them. I shall al- 
 ways hold them as the choicest treasures of my 
 memory. 
 
 215 
 
Mmini^cmct^ 
 
 " You will have a good time at your meet- 
 ing and during the week. I hope it will be my 
 good fortune to be with you when you meet 
 again." 
 
 2l6 
 
A REMINISCENCE 
 
 Related by Mrs. Otis of Readfield 
 Formerly Miss Lucinda Blake 
 
 Under date of March 17, 1903, Mrs. 
 C. F. Underwood wrote : 
 
 " I passed a day last week with Mrs. Otis 
 of Readfield, formerly Miss Lucinda Blake. 
 She has been an invalid for many years. Being 
 now past eighty, she is much enfeebled in body, 
 but mentally has not failed accordingly. She 
 remembers when that part of Salem where her 
 father located was almost an unbroken wilder- 
 ness. She remembers when the land was being 
 cleared and when but a very few temporary 
 homes were built. I think that the Pottles's, 
 Briggs's, Ellsworths's, and her father's houses 
 were all built within a short time after her father 
 went there. She cannot tell just when the main 
 East Road was made, but remembers that it 
 was when she was a small child. Her father 
 first erected a rude habitation, then a better one, 
 
 217 
 
a asemim'jscence 
 
 and afterward he built a fine substantial brick 
 house, which was as solid as masonry could 
 make it, and which stood firm upon its founda- 
 tion until within thirty years, when the ' fire 
 fiend ' destroyed it, with all the out-buildings, 
 including a barn which, at the time, was said 
 to be the best in Franklin County. She had 
 heard of the floors in the first old homes, which 
 were made of some kind of bark ; and the brooms 
 were always of cedar or hemlock. Her hus- 
 band's mother, Mrs. Otis of Kingfield, always 
 declared that her happiest years were spent, not 
 in her fine and more modern home, but in the 
 old log cabin with the ' bark floor ' which she 
 took so much pride in sweeping with her ' hem- 
 lock broom.' 
 
 " I think I promised to try to get the facts 
 relative to the narrow escape from tragic death 
 of Elbridge Blake when he was a small boy, 
 nine years old. Mrs. Otis related the story to 
 me in every detail, as she recollected it very 
 clearly. Her brothers, Elbridge and Daniel, 
 were sent for the cows toward night and were 
 
 218 
 
IBV i^m €>t(0 
 
 told to bring home some ' brown stuff' with 
 them. Elbridge looked after the latter, while his 
 brother drove the cows home. It was perhaps 
 half a mile from their home, down toward the 
 Kingfield road, and all woods, excepting small 
 clearings where the cows pastured. Elbridge, 
 emerging from the thicket with his ' brown 
 stuff,' found himself confronted with a pack of 
 howling wolves. He was near a small, slender 
 tree, and, as rapidly as possible, he climbed it 
 until he felt that it was bending. The situation 
 was frightful. He knew that wolves could not 
 climb, but if the branch which he was grasp- 
 ing with both hands should bend low or break, 
 he would be at their mercy. His screams and 
 shouts were finally heard by Mr. Briggs, who 
 lived in a diagonal direction, perhaps a quarter 
 of a mile distant from him. Mr. Briggs, fearing 
 that it was the voice of a child, and suspecting 
 the cause, ran speedily up to Mr. Blake's and 
 breathlessly inquired if all their children, nine in 
 all, were at home. They replied that all were 
 there but Elbridge. ' Faith, then,' said Uncle 
 
 219 
 
^ ISemini^cence 
 
 Briggs, ' the wolves have got him ! ' The brick 
 walls of the new Blake house were about half 
 completed. There were masons and a number 
 of others employed there, and they were about 
 finishing their day's work. They instantly took 
 in the situation. Trowels and other implements 
 were thrown hither and yon, and, with the older 
 members of the family, the workmen rushed to 
 the rescue. Mrs. Otis says that their yells were 
 like the savage war whoop and echoed loud and 
 long through that wild, lonely region. Elbridge 
 remembers that during all this interval the wolves 
 closely and entirely surrounded the tree,but could 
 do nothing but look up at him. He understood 
 what all the noise in the distance meant, and 
 took courage. The wolves ' appeared to look at 
 each other and, in their own language, to won- 
 der what turn they would better take.' The 
 hideous sounds of the rescuers had the desired 
 effect, and, at first sight of the men, the wolves 
 scattered and fled in all directions toward the 
 woods. The boy Elbridge was helped out of 
 the frightful situation. Safe within the fold that 
 
 220 
 
15V M^^* ^ti^ 
 
 night, who can doubt that praise and thanks- 
 giving filled every heart for so miraculous an 
 
 escape 
 
 " Mrs. Otis said that this was but one instance 
 of many similar ones, that the dangers were 
 many, and that it was absolutely unsafe for chil- 
 dren, or even grown people, to go far from their 
 homes, alone or unarmed. She said that they 
 afterward resorted to fencing in, or confining, 
 their stock — horses, cattle, and sheep — and 
 throwing poison all through the woods, until, 
 after a time, the wolves grew scarce. 
 
 " I asked in reference to bears. ' Oh,' she 
 said, *■ they did n't make much account of bears 
 compared with wolves ! ' She had quite a laugh, 
 and spoke as though a bear was of very little 
 consequence. 
 
 "One thing, doubtless, you know — that' 
 Salem was incorporated January lO, 1823, under 
 the name of North Salem, and was formed from 
 parts of Freeman, Phillips, and Bingham's Pur- 
 chase." 
 
 221 
 
OLD HOME DAY 
 REGISTER 
 
 Among those who were present from a 
 distance were — 
 
 D. C. Heath of Boston, Mass. 
 
 Elbridge G. Heath of Auburn. 
 
 Rev. Abel W. Pottle of Lisbon Falls. 
 
 Hon. George Pottle and Mrs. Pottle of Lewiston. 
 
 Dr. and Mrs. A. W. Stinchfield of Rochester, Minn. 
 
 Miss Laura Stinchfield. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Charles Bangs and daughter Jean of 
 
 Everett, Mass. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Charles Porter of Westbrook. 
 Florian Porter of Eustis. 
 Hon. and Mrs. Joel Wilbur of Phillips. 
 Fred F. Pease of Livermore Falls. 
 Mr. and Mrs. V. H. Foss, nee Althea Heath, of 
 
 Bangor. 
 Dr. and Mrs. E. C. Merrill of Farmington. 
 Mr. and Mrs. H. W. Gilman, nee Annie Porter, of 
 
 Farmington. 
 
 222 
 
^tgimt 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. H. H. Rice, »ee Ida Porter, and daugh- 
 ter Bertha of Farmington. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. George Underwood, nee Carrie Nash, 
 of Fayette. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. John C. Leadbetter of Farmington. 
 
 Mrs. M. Wills of Strong. 
 
 George Winslow of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. G. F. Beal of Phillips. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. R. H. Cunningham, nee Lula Ellsworth, 
 and daughter of Kingfield. 
 
 Augustus Page of Kingfield. 
 
 Mrs. Mary Larrabee of Kingfield. 
 
 D. Schuyler Austin of New York City. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. R. Jennings of Fairfield. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Almon A. Carville, nee Celestia Hay- 
 ford, and daughter of Farmington. 
 
 Mrs. Melvina Hayford Stewart of Farmington. 
 
 Mrs. Marcia Knapp of Newark, N. J. 
 
 Miss Lelia Briggs of Farmington. 
 
 Mrs. Sarah Jones, nee Sarah Leadbetter, of Farmington. 
 
 Frank King of Skowhegan. 
 
 Columbus Hayford of Presque Isle. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Dodge of West Freeman. 
 
 Mrs. Hannah Harlow Morrell of Strong. 
 
 Mr. Fred Morrell. 
 
 223 
 
€)ltj l^ome ©at 
 
 Miss Lilla Morrell. 
 
 Earl Brackley of Strong. 
 
 J. Harvey Dodge of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. C. B. Richardson of Strong. 
 
 Miss Helen Richardson. 
 
 Miss Bessie Hunter of Strong. 
 
 Mrs. L. Hunter of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Horace Libby of Madrid. 
 
 Mr and Mrs. J. H. Heath of Farmington. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. L. Worthley of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. R. Knowlton of Strong. 
 
 Mrs. Frank Knowlton, nee Belle Towle, of Strong. 
 
 Miss Claire Knowlton. 
 
 Henry Allen of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Augustus Briggs of Strong. 
 
 Amos True of Strong. 
 
 Mrs. Olive Dodge of Strong. 
 
 Frank Knowlton of Strong. 
 
 Mrs. A. C. Nickerson, nee Mahala Dolbier, of Fairbanks. 
 
 Miss Maud Nickerson. 
 
 Miss Pearl Nickerson, 
 
 Mrs. Almeda Clausen, nee Cunningham, of Lowell, 
 
 Mass. 
 Mr. and Mrs. George French, nee Viola Cunningham, 
 
 and son, of Lowell, Mass. 
 224 
 
EegWer 
 
 John Dolbier of Kingfield, 
 
 Charles Dolbier of Kingfield. 
 
 Miss Julia H. May of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Dennis Clark, nee Dodge, of Strong. 
 
 Miss Blanche Clark of Strong. 
 
 Mrs. E. A. Dodge, nee Cleora Hayford, and son 
 
 Chester of Providence, R. I. 
 Mrs. Flora E. Thomas, nee Richards, of Lawrence, 
 
 Mass. 
 Mrs. Jennie Carver, nee Richards, of Leeds. 
 Mrs. Warren Dodge of Farmington. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Charles H. Graffam of Lewiston. 
 Mrs. Eugene Dunton, nee Sabrina Lovejoy, and daugh- 
 ter of Lewiston. 
 Harry Perkins of Wilton. 
 Mrs. John Lowell, nee Nella Richards, of Lavvrence, 
 
 Mass. 
 Mr. and Mrs. John Robinson, nee Ellen Ellsworth, 
 
 of Farmington. 
 Mrs. Bert Millett of Farmington. 
 Mr. and Mrs. Daniel Graffam, nee Sarah Witham, 
 
 of Phillips. 
 M. B. Pottle of Portland. 
 Mr. and Mrs, Silas Dunham, nee Emma Childs, of 
 
 Madrid. 
 
 225 
 
mt} i$omt ©ar 
 
 Mrs. George K. Richards of Kingfield. 
 
 Ira Blanchard of Kingfield. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Marshall Lander of Kingfield. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. S. F. Brackley, f/ee Ida Lovejoy, of 
 Freeman. 
 
 Clarence Blackwell of Rhode Island. 
 
 Fred Weymouth of Freeman. 
 
 Sumner A. Lovejoy of West Freeman. 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth L. Harris, »ee Heath, of Lowell, 
 Mass. 
 
 Mrs. Elizabeth Smith, ;2ee Harris, of Lowell, Mass. 
 
 Mrs. Carrie Harrison, nee Harris, of Lowell, Mass. 
 
 Mrs. Addie Marshall, nee Harris, of Lowell, Mass. 
 
 George F. Briggs of Farmington. 
 
 Mrs. Adeline Curtis Daggett of Strong. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Melzor Fulsom, nee Dorcas Clark, of 
 Wisconsin. 
 
 Miss Edith Luce of Lowell, Mass. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Benjamin Peabody, nee Mahala Ells- 
 worth, of St. Paul, Minnesota. 
 
 Mrs. O. M. Jennings of Farmington. 
 
 Mrs. A. L. Brown and son Theo. of Fairbanks. 
 
 Mrs. C. J. Mayo of Walpole, N. H. 
 
 Mrs. Stephen Mayo, nee Ella Daggett, of Strong. 
 
 Mrs. Lovina Lovejoy True of Strong. 
 226 
 
Begtjster 
 
 Mrs. Lydia GrafFam Greely, Somerville, Mass. 
 
 Mr. Andrew J. Davis, New Portland, Me. 
 
 Mr. Will Blake. 
 
 Mr. Reuben Richards, Gorham, N. H. 
 
 Mr. Frank L. King, Skowhegan, Me. 
 
 Mr. Geo. E. Dodge, Carmel, Me. 
 
 Mrs. E. L. Dunton, nee Lovejoy, Lewiston, Me. 
 
 Mrs. Clara Lovejoy BuUer, New Portland, Me. 
 
 Mr. and Mrs. Ira Davenport, nee Emma Voter, 
 
 Phillips, Me. 
 Mr. and Mrs. John Shepherd, 7iee Calistia Voter, 
 
 Phillips, Me. 
 
 227 
 
/^UU /iO \iJ\jD 
 
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