CHAPTER IV.
class="hang" Penobscot River.—Its various Names.—Character of the Country through which it flows.—Its Length.—The vast Extent of Territory which it drains.—Its Multitude of Lakes.—Mount Ktaadn.—Indian Legend.—Elevation of the Mountain.—Overwhelming Prospect.—A Sabbath in the Wilderness.—Moose in the Lake.—An uncomfortable Night.—Dr. Jackson's Narrative.—New Lumber Resources.—The interesting Origin of this new Resource.—John Bull outwitted.—Freshets on the Penobscot. —Freshet of 1846, cause of it.—Sudden Rise of Water.—Bangor submerged.—Bowlders of Ice.—Destruction of Property.—Narrow Escape of Ferry-boat.—Peril of Boys.—Editorial Observations. —Lumber Statistics.—Where the Lumber finds a Market.— Speculations on future Prospects of Lumbering Interests.— Anticipations of the Future.—Bangor.
Passing westward in a direct line about twenty miles, we come to the noble and interesting Penobscot. Although Penobscot is now the name of the entire river, it was originally the name of only a section of the main channel, from the head of tide-water to a short distance above Oldtown. Penobscot is the Indian name, and signifies stony or rocky river, as it certainly is within the above limits, being nothing less than a continuous fall before the dams were built.
From the head of tide-water, at the city of Bangor, to the mouth of the river, a distance of about thirty miles, it was known to the Indians by the name of Baam-tu-guai-took, which means broad river, sheet of water, or, more literally, all waters united. Another section of the river is called Gim-sit-i-cook, signifying smooth or dead water.
Unlike the Kennebeck, and similar to the St. Croix, the Penobscot flows chiefly through a wilderness country. The time is yet distant when its banks shall exhibit the same advances in agricultural industry and wealth which now beautify, enrich, and enliven the banks of the Kennebeck.
A shop going upriver
A Coaster ascending the Penobscot for Lumber.
This river, on many accounts, is the most important in Maine, and at present, from its vast lumbering resources and operations, the most noted. It is three hundred and fifty miles long, with numerous, and, in some instances, copious branches, which drain an immense uncultivated territory, embracing a region of country from east to west about one hundred and fifty miles in breadth, spanning the whole of the northern portion of the state, running round and cutting off the head waters of the St. Croix on the east, and of the Kennebeck on the west, interlacing its numerous branches with those of the St. John's River in the north, which brings within its embrace about one third the entire wilderness territory of Maine.
The scenery in some sections of this territory, about the head waters, is grand and picturesque. Its numerous water-falls, some of which are fearful to contemplate, much more for theriver-driverto work upon; its swelling hills, and, in some instances, towering mountains, from whose tops may be counted an almost endless number of lakes, and the vast groves of towering pines here and there scattered over millions of acres of forest land, make it altogether one of the wildest and most romantic portions of country.
One of the most attractive features in the interior is Mount "Ktaadn," which, from its isolated position, height, and sublime grandeur as the "birth-place of storms," surrounded with a beautiful, rich, and luxuriant forest, with streams and lakes, is worthy of special attention.
The following sketch of a visit to this mountain by a party of gentlemen may be esteemed worthy of a perusal:
Our travelers, after having made the ascent of the river to the proper point, and made the necessary arrangements for their journey up the mountain, "entered the slide at eight o'clock" A.M., in the early part of September, and found its ascent quite steep, "though not difficult or dangerous at all, when one takes time."
On almost all sides of the mountain there is a short, tangled growth of alders and white birch coming up between the rocks. These, being kept down by the winds, grow into an almost impassable bramble. At a distance it has a beautiful, smooth appearance, like a green, grassy hill, or what one of the company called a 'piece of oats.' The slide serves as a path up through all this tangle, reaching to the top of the southeastern ridge of the mountain, which is above all timber growth, making about one third of the whole perpendicular height of Ktaadn, to which the ascent of the brook below would add another third.
View of the Penobscot
View of the Penobscot—Forests and Lakes N.E. from Ktaadn.
"Although it was hard climbing, we ascended pretty fast, and the clear morning air gave an indescribable beauty to the prospect below. The most pleasing was the constant change and variety caused by our rapid ascent. It was known that the mountain, at this season of the year, is frequented by bears in pursuit of cranberries, but we did not see any, though our gunner had enjoined silence in hopes of obtaining a shot. I remained with the rear, to see all up safe. The most zealous 'went ahead,' and were soon out of sight, until, near the head of the slide, we heard them from the distant topmost peaks calling out, 'Come on, ye brave!' At this distance they looked very small in stature. From the head of the slide we turned to the left, and ascended northwest to the first and most eastern peak; by this time our comrades had reached the most western. We here paused to view our position. It is perhaps the most favorable spot for surveying the whole structure. From thence the principal peaks are in a curved line, going southwest, then west and northwest. The second peak, called by us the 'Chimney,' is near the first, but separated by a sharp cut one hundred and fifty or two hundred feet deep, and nearly square in its form. We had seen one of our comrades upon its summit, else we might not have attempted the ascent. His zeal seemed to blind him to danger, for, when questioned on our return, he could neither tellwhenorhowhe ascended. Our first plan was to pass around the base without going over the top; but this we found impossible, and were about to give up, when one pointed out a diagonal course, where, by taking a few pretty long steps, he thought we could ascend. I tried first, and succeeded, and all followed but two. From the 'Chimney' we went from one hammock to another, making, on the whole, a gradual ascent, till we reached the middle of the principal peaks, a distance of nearly half a mile. There we met our comrades on their return from the western peak, and all sat down to rest. Here we found a monument that had been erected by some former visitor, but was overgrown with moss, appearing lonely, as if it had seen no relations for years. On the first and most eastern peak, all the monuments which I had made the year previous looked new and fresh. It is not easy to decide which of the two (the western and middle peaks) is highest. Judgment was given in favor of the middle one.
"While sitting on the south side of the monument at twelve o'clock, we put the thermometer in a favorable place, and it went up to 84°. At the same time, on the north side, and six feet from us, water was freezing, and the snow dry and crusty. Near by the monument a rock stood in its natural position, having a sharp peak in the top. This was the highest one of the kind. Of this about four inches were broken off, and one of the company carried it home with the conviction that we had lowered the height of Ktaadn to that amount. About two P.M. we returned to the eastern peak. It may be well to pause here and take a re-survey of the scene thus far presented, and as much more as can be viewed from this point.
"From this eastern peak a spur makes out eastward one mile. Half a mile down, however, it divides, and a branch runs to the northeast the same distance. On the southwest, across the cut, is the 'Chimney.' From this the line of peaks and hammocks curves to the west till it reaches the middle and highest peak. From one hammock to the other there are, in all, thirty rods of narrow passes. Some of them are so narrow that a man could drop a stone from either hand, and it would go to unknown depths below. In some places the only possible way is over the top, and only one foot wide. For a great part of the time the wind blows across these passes so violently that the stones themselves have to be firmly fixed to keep their places. It seemed remarkable, as if for our convenience, that the day of our visit was still and quiet. From the middle peak the line curves to the northwest, to the further monument. From this point a branch makes down to the southwest, having on it some extensive table-lands, while the top ridge or curve turns directly north with the 'sag.' At the bottom of the 'sag' we come upon a wide flat, which runs north half a mile, and stretches out to a considerable width. At the northern extremity of the flat the ridge curves to the east, and rises to a peak about equal in height to the eastern peak of the northern wing. This is probably the highest of the northern peaks, from which a spur makes down, a little south of east, to within one quarter of a mile from the one that comes from the southern wing. All this nearly includes a deep basin, with walls almost perpendicular, and in some places apparently two thousand feet high.
"To survey the bottom of this basin I have since made a separate journey. It contains perhaps two hundred acres, covered with large square blocks of granite that seem to have come from the surrounding walls. There are in all six lakes and ponds, varying in size from two to ten acres. One of them I crossed on ice the 15th of October.
"From its outlet inward to the southwest is about a mile, where there is a small lake of clear water which has no visible outlet. So far as I can learn, I was the first human visitor to this fabled residence of the Indians' Pamolah. It is not strange that a superstitious people should have many traditions of his wonderful pranks, and be kept away from close engagement with such a foe. When we reach the lake on our way to Ktaadn, it is easy to see the origin of those fears which the Indians are said to have respecting the mountain as the residence of Pamolah or Big Devil. Clouds form in the basin, and are seen whirling out in all directions. Tradition tells a 'long yarn' about a 'handsome squaw' among the Penobscots, who once did a great business inslayingher thousands among the young chiefs of her nation, but was finally taken by Pamolah to Ktaadn, where he now protects himself and his prize from approaching Indians with all his artillery of thunder and hail.
"The Indian says that it is 'sartin true, 'cause handsome squaw always ketch em deble;' whether this be true or not, the basin is the birth-place of storms, and I have myself heard the roar of its winds for several miles. But on the 15th of October, when I entered it and went to the upper lake, all was still as the house of nymphs, except when we ourselves spoke, and then the thousand echoes were like the response of fairies bidding us welcome. In this way the music of our voices would find itself in the midst of a numerous choir singing a 'round.'
"The upper lake, which I visited and went around, has an inlet, a white pearly brook, coming out nearly under the chimney, and running a short distance through alders and meadow grass. It has no visible outlet; but on the north side it seems to ooze out among the rocks. We can trace this water-course curving to the east of north till it reaches the lower and largest lake, from which flows a brook sufficiently large for trout to run up. This brook curves to the south, running into West Branch, and is called Roaring Brook. The mountain around this basin is in the form of a horse-shoe, opening to the northeast. From the peak on the northern wing there is another deep gorge, partly encircled with a curving ridge, which some would call another basin. On the north side of this gorge there is a peak nearly equal in height to the one on the south of it, but considerably further east, making this northern basin or gorge open to the southeast. These two basins, from some points of view, seem to be one. From the last-mentioned peak the mountain slopes off from one peak or shoulder to another, perhaps three miles, before it reaches the timber growth. Some of the branches of the Wassataquoik come from this northern part, but some of them from the basin or southern part of Ktaadn.
"Rough granite, moss-covered rocks are spread over its whole surface from the short growth upward. Blueberries and cranberries grow far up the sides. At the time of our visit considerable snow lay on its summits and lined the walls of the great basin. The party, of course, found plenty of drink. The Avalanche Brook, having its source about the middle of the slide, furnished water pure as crystal. The ascent was attended with some danger and fatigue. But what a view when the utmost heights are gained! What a magnificent panorama of forests, lakes, and distant mountains! The surface of the earth, with its many-tinted verdure, resembled, in form and smoothness, the swelling sea. In the course of the forenoon, light fogs from all the lakes ascended, and, coming to Ktaadn, intertwined themselves most fantastically above our heads, then settled down and dispersed. But what can be fitly said about the vast expanse of the heavens, to be seen from such an elevation, especially when the sun goes down, and the glowing stars appear in silent majesty? All the gorgeous, artificial brilliancy of man's invention is more than lost in the comparison. Language has no power to describe a scene of this nature. The height of Ktaadn above the level of the sea is five thousand three hundred feet. Its position is isolated, and its structure an immense curiosity. From its summit very few populous places are visible, so extensive is the intervening wilderness. On its sides the growth of wood is beautiful, presenting a regular variation in altitude and size all the way up to the point where it ceases.
"The great basin described by Mr. Keep was to none of us an inferior object of interest. Want of time and strength prevented our descent into it. It is open to general inspection from all the heights around it. The day being quiet, the view was divested of much of its terror; but we could readily believe it the abode of all the furies in a storm, and where the polar monarch has his chief residence in Maine. We called to each other across the basin, and echo answered 'Where!' in earnest. The air was exhilarating, as may be supposed, but the effect not as sensible as we anticipated.
"The whole party returned to the head of the slide at three P.M., and engaged in picking cranberries. These grow on all parts of the mountain above the timber region, and no doubt annually yield many thousand bushels. 'They grow on vines among the rocks, and are commonly called the mountain or highland cranberry. They are smaller than the meadow cranberry, but of a better flavor.'
"At four o'clock six of the party went down to the camp to prepare fuel for the Sabbath. Our guide and the gunner remained at the head of the slide all night, and kept a fire with old roots; yet it was presumed that they had now and then alittle coldcomfort. The result of their stay is thus set forth by Mr. Keep:
"'On Sabbath morning the eastern horizon was clear of clouds, and we looked anxiously for the sun. Just before it came up, a bright streak appeared of silver whiteness, like the reflected light of the moon. We could see the further outline of land quite plain, and for a short distance beyond was this silvery streak. Soon a small arc of the sun appeared above this bright line. I was hardly able to control my emotions while the whole came in sight. On Saturday night, about sundown, our view of the country around was more distinct and enchanting—a boundless wilderness in all directions, much of the view being south of the lakes. Of the latter, not far from two hundred are to be seen dotting the landscape. In one of them we can count one hundred islands. Soon after sunrise on Sabbath morning we went down to the camp to spend the day with the company.'
"That holy morning found us refreshed, and somewhat prepared to appreciate our peculiar circumstances. The weather was charming. The air resounded with the pleasing murmur of the Avalanche Brook, as it flowed down over its bed of rocks; nor was the song of birds denied us. Gentle breezes stirred the beautiful foliage of the circling woods. Impressive stillness reigned, and the whole scene was adapted to awaken happy and exuberant emotions.
"Early we mounted some rocks on the bank of the stream toward the rising sun, and overlooking a vast region of country, and there poured forth sacred melody to our heart's content. The echo was glorious. Verily we thought our 'feet were set in a large place;' and we could readily imagine that the wide creation had found a tongue with which our own exulted in unison.
"At the hour appointed we assembled in the camp, and engaged in the exercises of a religious conference. It was good to be there. The scene finds its portraiture in the words of Cowper:
"'The calm retreat, the silent shade,With pray'r and praise agree,And seem by thy sweet bounty madeFor those who follow thee.Then, if thy spirit touch the soul,And grace her mean abode,O! with what peace, and joy, and loveShe there communes with God.'
"'The calm retreat, the silent shade,With pray'r and praise agree,And seem by thy sweet bounty madeFor those who follow thee.
"'The calm retreat, the silent shade,
With pray'r and praise agree,
And seem by thy sweet bounty made
For those who follow thee.
Then, if thy spirit touch the soul,And grace her mean abode,O! with what peace, and joy, and loveShe there communes with God.'
Then, if thy spirit touch the soul,
And grace her mean abode,
O! with what peace, and joy, and love
She there communes with God.'
"It is not too much to say that we enjoyed a measure of such experience. The day—the place—the topics of remarks—the songs of Zion—all encircled by a kind Providence, and made effective by the presence of God, will ever be worthy of a grateful remembrance.
"In the afternoon, by request, Rev. Mr. Munsell addressed us from the 11th verse of the 145th Psalm, 'They shall speak of the glory of thy kingdom, and talk of thy power.' Our position added deep interest to the theme of discourse, and naturally furnished much ground for illustration. Indeed, the entire services of the day were attended with peculiar influences, being had under circumstances so widely different from the ordinary life of the company.
"That Sabbath was our delight, even in the face of a possible deficiency in food. But the course adopted imparted bodily rest and a peaceful mind.
"We had traveled with burdens on our backs twenty-five miles—crossed several streams—climbed rough hills—walked on rocky places—tumbled over huge trunks of fallen trees—crowded through plenty of jungle—waded the Avalanche Brook—and all this in forbidding weather; but, aside from the glorious view on the summit of Ktaadn, our toil found its recompense in the novelty and influence of a Sabbath observance on such an elevation, and amid the wild scenes and solitudes of a mountain forest.
"Scarcity of food, and the engagements of some of the party, made it necessary on Monday morning to start for home. We left the camp about half past nine, following down the brook to the point from whence we ascended, and then direct to the lake.
"'At this time,' says our guide, 'we fell into much confusion on account of two of the company who were missing, the gunner and Mr. Meservey, for whom we made search, but in vain. Few can imagine our feelings save those who have heard the cry oflostcoming up from the deep gloom of the wilderness in the native tone of some wanderer calling for help. After consultation, it was resolved that we must leave the ground for home, hoping for the best. We left at one, and came to the lake at four P.M., and here, to our great joy, we saw a smoke on the opposite side, near the outlet, and at five rejoined our missing companions. They had caught trout enough for us all, weighing from one to three pounds. With these, and cranberry-sauce in plenty, also bread, pork, and tea, we made merry around a cheerful fire. That night, however, a storm of rain coming up, found us poorly prepared.'
"In this connection an incident may be related. Just before our arrival, while the gunner was fishing, suddenly two moose bounded furiously into the lake, and appeared to be swimming toward him. Though all along desirous of an interview, their visit was rather too startling. He scampered with all haste to the shore, seized his gun and fired, but the balls would not go through the 'law,' which at that season afforded protection, and so the moose escaped.
Northeast view of Mount Ktaadn
Northeast view of Mount Ktaadn, from the west branch of the Penobscot.
"The night just referred to was a time ofrealities. Truth proved 'stranger than fiction.' Amid anxiety for the lost, the ax had been left on the mountain. A pile of logs lay near the outlet of the lake. With some of these our missing companions had made a fire; some formed the floor of the camp, and others, used as rafters, were covered with boughs for protection, but not from rain. On the above floor (the spot allowing no other), no boughs at hand could make a downy bed. Every one found out that he was composed of flesh and bones. It also became difficult to regulate the fire, so that the heat was often intense. Contrary winds would ever and anon drive the smoke into the camp, and thus cause great involuntary weeping. The scene wasfelt, and few could find sleep without stealing it. It was visible darkness all around. Toward midnight the rain commenced. One of the party, writing to another from Lincoln in December, says, 'Old Mount Ktaadn from this place looks dreary enough. Its snow-capped top often reminds me of our amusing adventures; but nothing in all our travels affords more amusement in moments of meditation than the night on the Pond Dam. That old plaid cloak, dripping in the rain; its occupant upon a log without the camp, singing "The morning light is breaking," when it was only one o'clock; and then again, "He shall come down like rain," &c.—all together have left an impression on my mind not soon to be effaced.'
"The occupant of that 'cloak,' unable to sleep, conversed with the 'daughters of music,' and was prompted to sing the night out and the morning in; and as the rain increased, the whole crew joined heartily in the chorus. Our departure from such lodgings was very early. Beneath continual droppings from the trees and bushes, we pressed through an obstinate path-way, and arrived at the Wassataquoik camp at half past nine. This march was really toilsome, but brought us out at the desired point. After a long rest, we followed the old supply road most of the way, forded the Wassataquoik, and came out opposite Mr. Hunt's, whence the bateaux took us across the East Branch. This was a little past four o'clock P.M. Our appearance was far from beardless, our 'externals' somewhat ragged and torn, and our appetites keen as a 'Damascus razor.' 'Mine host' and family received us most cordially, having felt some anxiety in our absence. They made us joyful around a full table of good things. On the day following, Wednesday, we passed to Mr. Cushman's, and on Thursday took conveyances for home."
Another visitor[14]to this point of attraction observes:
"While I was engaged in noting the bearings of this mountain, the clouds suddenly darted down upon its summit and concealed it from view, while we could observe that a violent snow-squall was paying homage to Pomola, the demon of the mountain, Presently the storm ceased, and the clouds, having thus paid their tribute, passed on, and left the mountain white with snow. This took place on the 20th of September.
"Crossing the lake—'Millnoket, a most beautiful sheet of water, containing a great number of small islands, from which circumstance it takes its name'—we reached the carrying-place at the head of a long creek, where we pitched our camp amid a few poplar-trees, which were of second growth, or have sprung up since the forests were burned. The want of good fuel and of boughs for a bed was severely felt, since we were obliged to repose on naked rocks, and the green poplar-trees appeared to give more smoke than fire. The night was cold and the wind violent, so that sleep was out of the question. Early in the morning we prepared to carry our boats over to Ambijejis Lake, and the labor was found very difficult, since the water was low, and we had to traverse a long tract of boggy land before reaching the other lake.
"Tracks of moose and cariboo abound in the mud, since they frequent the shallow parts of the lake, to feed upon the lilypads or the leaves of the Nuphan lutea, which here abound. A noble-looking cariboo suddenly started from the woods, and trotted quietly along the shores of the lake quite near us, but we were not prepared to take him, and he presently darted into the forest and disappeared.
"Our provisions having been reduced, owing to the circumstance that our journey proved much longer than we had anticipated, I thought it necessary to put the whole party on a regular allowance, which was mutually agreed to. Our Indian, Neptune, succeeded in catching half a dozen musquash, which we were glad to share with him, and a few trout which were also taken, and served to save a portion of our more substantial food. At Pock-wock-amus Falls, where the river rushes over a ledge of granite, large trout are caught abundantly, and we stopped a short time to obtain a supply. They are readily taken with a common fishing-hook and line, baited with a piece of pork, or even with a slip of paper, which is to be trailed over the surface of the water. Some of the trout thus caught would weigh from three and a half to four pounds.
"On the 22d of September we prepared ourselves for ascending the mountain, taking with us our tent, a few cooking utensils, and all the food remaining, except a small quantity of Indian corn meal, which we concealed on the island for use on our return.
"Our party, all clothed in red flannel shirts, and loaded with our various equipments, made a singular appearance as we landed on the opposite shore and filed into the woods.
"Having reached a height where the forest trees were so diminutive that we could not camp any higher up for want of fuel, we pitched our tent. This place is about half way up the mountain. From it we have an extensive view of the surrounding country.
"Leaving our camp on the mountain side, at seven A.M. we set out for the summit of Ktaadn, traveling steadily up the slide, clambering over loose bowlders of granite, trap, and graywacke, which are heaped up in confusion along its course. We at length reached a place where it was dangerous longer to walk on the loose rocks, and passing over to the right-hand side, clambered up among the dwarfish bushes that cling to the side of the mountain.
"Two of our party became discouraged on reaching this point, and there being no necessity of their accompanying us, they were allowed to return to camp. The remainder of our ascent was extremely difficult, and required no small perseverance. Our Indian guide, Louis, placed stones along the path, in order that we might more readily find the way down the mountain, and the wisdom of this precaution was fully manifested in the sequel. At ten A.M. we reached the table-land which forms the mountain's top, and ascends gradually to the central peak. Here the wind, and driving snow and hail, rendered it almost impossible to proceed, but we at length reached the central peak. The true altitude of Mount Ktaadn above the level of the sea is a little more than one mile perpendicular elevation. It is, then, evidently the highest point in the State of Maine, and is the most abrupt granite mountain in New England.
"Amid a furious snow-storm, we set out on our return from this region of clouds and snow. Louis declared that Pomola was angry with us for presuming to measure the height of the mountain, and thus revenged himself. 'Descending, we had nearly gone astray, and might have descended on the wrong side, had it not been for the precautions of Louis before named. Clouds and darkness hung upon the mountain's brow, and the cold blasts almost deprived us of breath. Incrusted with snow, we carefully slid upon the surface of the rocks.' 'We tumbled down some large blocks of granite, that descended with a terrible fracas, dashing the rocks into fragments as they bounded along.' 'Our party encamped upon the mountain side, and passed a sleepless night, without food, and amid a driving snow-storm.'
"Early next morning we struck our tent and descended the mountain, but so enfeebled had we become by hunger, privations, and fatigue, that it was with difficulty we could carry ourselves and burdens. Every now and then our knees would give way beneath us, and cause us to fall upon the ground. When we reached the base of the mountain, we discovered some wild choke-cherries hanging in bunches from the trees, which the bears had often climbed and broken for the fruit. Felling one of these cherry-trees, we ate the astringent fruit, and were in some measure resuscitated in strength, so as to march with renewed vigor. A bed of blueberries also presented itself, and we stopped to dine upon them. 'Proceeding on, we met two of our company, who had passed down the night before, who had cooked all the Indian meal that we left at our old camp on the island, and brought the cakes for our relief. On our way down the river we fortunately met two young men ascending the stream in a canoe on an exploring expedition, we induced them to sell us twenty biscuits, which, being two to a man, on short allowance, we hoped to be able to reach Nickatow. On our way down we met another crew, who supplied us with the necessary rations to reach Nickatow, where, on our arrival, we obtained all that was necessary for the comfortable prosecution of our down-river journey.'"
In addition to the natural resources of the Penobscot for lumber, several townships of good timber land, formerly claimed by the crown, but by treaty ceded to the United States, have become available by diverting a portion of the head waters of the St. John's River into the channel of the former, on the west branch. This was effected by cutting a canal from a lake on the St. John's, called Zelos, to Webster Lake, on the Penobscot.
Originally the canal was three hundred rods long by four wide, and four feet deep; but the strong current of water flowing through, at the rate of one mile in twenty minutes, has changed the regularity of the channel to a more natural and stream-like appearance.
By this bit of Yankee enterprise, the timber of eight townships, otherwise and necessarily destined for the provincial market, may be brought down the Penobscot, the aggregate amount of which is estimated, by the best judges, at five hundred millions of feet.
This has succeeded so well, that further surveys have been made with a view to open other communications between the waters in the same region, and, if the expectations of those interested in this matter should be realized, it is said that the timber of some thirty townships more will come down the Penobscot River.[15]
The project of excavating the canal alluded to was suggested by the proximity of the above-named lakes, and the remarkably favorable position of the strip of land lying between them. The direct cause of its being carried into effect is said to have originated in consequence of the levying of a provincial tax on lumber cut and run down the St. John's by Americans, in violation of an article in the treaty adopted by the two governments in the recent settlement of the boundary between Maine and New Brunswick.
The specific condition in the treaty thought to have been violated is this, in substance: All timber situated on land ceded to the United States, which, from its position, must pass down the St. John's, "shall be dealt with as if it were the produce of the said province;"[16]which condition on the part of Maine was thought to imply freedom from duty or taxation.
Therefore, in order to obtain some tribute (for it is, indeed, a trait quite prominent in the character of John Bull to expect and demand tribute), a duty was levied uponalltimber running down the St. John's, whether from the crown lands or the territory ceded to Maine. And the crown, in order to satisfy its loyal subjects for this new requisition, made a corresponding discount on the stumpage charged those hauling timber from the crown lands, while the Yankees were left without indemnification.
But Brother Jonathan was not to be outgeneraled by this maneuver, but characteristically "guessed" out a way of escape; and not only thwarted the cunning of his crafty neighbor in this matter, but actually laid his dominions under tribute,nolens volens, by diverting a portion of the waters of St. John's River, bringing it into the channel of the Penobscot, where it probably runs "duty free." While, therefore, the Yankees thus resisted the attempted encroachment, we doubt not but they secretly render a "tribute" ofthanksfor the provocation.
The Penobscot is not so likely to be affected by destructive freshets as are most large rivers; for instance, the Kennebeck, whose accumulating waters rush through its deeply-cut channel with tremendous power, carrying all before it; and for this reason the former runs through immense tracts of low intervale lands, which, in time of abundant rains, act as vast reservoirs, receiving and scattering the surplus water over thousands of acres. Nothing is likely to produce disastrous freshets, except such as arise from unusual causes; and as such a combination is not likely to occur once in a century, an event of this nature is not often expected nor dreaded.
Mountains with a waterfall and river
Godfrey's Falls on the Seboois River. Banks 200 Feet High.
The Penobscot has two principal and many minor branches; among the latter, mention may be made of "Mattawamkeag," which "means a stream running over a gravelly bed;" and the "Piscataquis," which is about one hundred miles in length, and forms a junction with the main river some thirty or forty miles above Bangor; its waters are clear as crystal, and the current rapid. Also the "Seboois," several days' journey from the mouth of the Matawamkeag. Some of the wildest and most interesting scenery in the state occurs on this river and on the lofty mountains in its vicinity. Godfrey's Falls, as seen in the opposite cut, plunge around the base of high mountainous banks hundreds of feet above the wild torrent which rushes between them. These falls are impassable, and when boatmen arrive here they are compelled to carry their effects and boats up a ledge on the left side of the falls, at an angle of 45°, and then through the burned forest for the distance of four miles before again attempting to navigate the river.
Not less than fifty mountains and seventeen lakes may be seen from the summit of Sugar-loaf Mountain, which stands a little removed from the shores of the Seboois, as represented in the cut at the end of this chapter; and among the interesting objects viewed from this point isChase'sMountain, on the west side of the Seboois, very peaked, which rises like a vast pyramid from the dense forest country around it, a representation of which may be seen on page 211.
There are many important islands in the Penobscot; several of them contain many hundred acres of land. Among them mention may be made of "Olemon," which contains some three hundred acres; likewise "Sugar Island," of corresponding magnitude; "Orson Island," twelve hundred acres; "Marsh Island," five thousand acres; "Oldtown," the present site of an Indian village, three hundred acres; Orono, one hundred and fifty acres. On these islands are several flourishing villages, Oldtown, Orono, and Stillwater, in the vicinity of which are the principal mill sites, which are from seven to fourteen miles above Bangor.
The overwhelming catastrophe which occurred on this river in the spring of 1846 will long be remembered by those who witnessed it. The following graphic account of this occurrence, from the pen of Dr. West, was published in the Bangor Courier, and will be read with deep interest:
"To the Rev. Dr. Tyng, New York."Reverend and dear Brother—We have passed through a scene within the last two or three days which will deeply interest and impress you. Our city has met with a calamity unparalleled in its annals, and perhaps unequaled, in proportion to its population and means, by any in our country. We have been inundated by the river in consequence of what is called here an ice-jam. The history of the matter is briefly as follows:"It sometimes happens that the ice in the river breaks up above, while it remains too strong at the outlet to admit of its passing down. The consequence is the accumulation of a dam of ice which completely fills the river from bank to bank, and heaps up sometimes to the height of from fifteen to thirty feet, and thus forming a reservoir of water above it, which overflows the banks and inundates the country around."The present winter has been a remarkable one in the mode of the formation of the ice. After the river was first frozen over, the ice continued to form in cakes or sheets, and to flow down the rapids to the still and frozen portions, and these were drawn under. This continued until the submerged sheets were stopped by rocks or shoals; then the accumulation went on until the bed of the river became consolidated to an astonishing thickness. Around the piers of our great bridge it was cut through to the depth of about fourteen feet. Thus the entire bed of the river seemed to have become, at least except the channel, an almost solid body of ice.A mountain seen from a distanceChase's Mountain, as it appears from Sugar-loaf Mountain."The greatest fears were entertained throughout the winter for the consequences during the spring freshet, and yet no effectual precautions could be taken to guard against impending calamity. The very worst of these fears have now been more than realized."A few days ago the river began to break up for about thirty miles above the city, while it continued firmly bound for about twelve miles below. There were several different spots where the jams, or ice-dams were formed; and when they broke away, they came rushing down with the force of a mountain torrent, until the strong ice below resisted their progress. These jams came down one at a time, and, lodging against another below, kept increasing their magnitude. The two most formidable jams were within seven miles of the city, in the vicinity of the two largest and most important ranges of saw-mills. Those which formed above, when they broke away, passed through at Oldtown and Stillwater with little comparative damage other than carrying away the bridges, and adding to the size of the jams below."The first movement was the raising the two principal ranges of mills from their foundations by the rise of the water. After this the first jam that passed down swept away the Basin mills, which belong to a New York company, and which rented for above ten thousand dollars per annum. They next carried away a large range of mills belonging to some of our most enterprising citizens, and which rented for fifteen thousand dollars per annum. One of the proprietors thus lost about fifty thousand dollars. The mills in these two ranges contained about fifty saws, were possessed of the most unfailing water power, were recently fitted up with the best improved machinery, and performed last year about one third of all the business on the river."The jams thus worked their way down gradually, carrying destruction to bridges and small houses, and other buildings on the banks, until they were all concentrated in one immense mass of four miles in length, of great height and depth, and filling the river, which varies in width from one thousand to fifteen thousand feet from bank to bank. Of the magnitude and power of such a mass, no just conception can be formed by persons unused to similar scenes. Above the jam the water was twenty or thirty feet above its usual height, filling up the rapids, and making a dead level of the falls."The first injury to the city was from the breaking away of a small section of the jam, which came down and pressed against the ice on our banks. By this, twenty houses in one immediate neighborhood, on the west bank of the river alone, were at once inundated, but without loss of life. This occurred in the daytime, and presented a scene of magnificent interest. The effect of this small concussion upon the ice near the city was terrific. The water rose instantly to such a height as to sweep the buildings and lumber from the ends of the wharves, and to throw up the ice in huge sheets and pyramids. This shock was resisted by the great covered bridge on the Penobscot, which is about one thousand feet in length, and this gave time to save much property from impending destruction. But, meanwhile, another auxiliary to the fearful work had been preparing by the breaking up of the ice in the Kenduskeag River. This river flows through the heart of the city, dividing it into two equal portions. The whole flat on the margin of the river is covered with stores and public buildings, and is the place of merchandise for the city. The Kenduskeag runs nearly at right angles with the Penobscot at the point where they unite. The Penobscot skirts the city on the eastern side, and on the banks of this river are the principal wharves for the deposit of lumber."I must mention another circumstance to give you a just idea of our situation. There is a narrow spot in the river, about a mile below the city, at High Head, in which is a shoal, and from which the greatest danger of a jam always arises, and it was this that caused the principal inundation."The next incident occurred at midnight, when the bells were rung to announce the giving way of the ice. It was a fearful sound and scene. The streets were thronged with men, women, and children, who rushed abroad to witness the approach of the icy avalanche. At length it came rushing on with a power that a thousand locomotives in a body could not vie with; but it was veiled from the eye by the darkness of a hazy night, and the ear only could trace its progress by the sounds of crashing buildings, lumber, and whatever it encountered in its path-way, except the glimpses that could be caught of it by the light of hundreds of torches and lanterns that threw their glare upon the misty atmosphere. The jam passed on, and a portion of it pressed through the weakest portion of the great bridge, and thus, joining the ice below the bridge, pressed it down to the narrows at High Head. Meanwhile the destruction was in progress on the Kenduskeag, which poured down its tributary ice, sweeping mills, bridges, shops, and other buildings, with masses of logs and lumber, to add to the common wreck."At that moment, the anxiety and suspense were fearful whether the jam would force its way through the narrows, or there stop and pour back a flood of waters upon the city; for it was from the rise of the water consequent upon such a jam that the great destruction was to be apprehended. But the suspense was soon over. A cry was heard from the dense mass of citizens who crowded the streets on the flat, 'The river is flowing back!' and so sudden was the revulsion, that it required the utmost speed to escape the rising waters. It seemed but a moment before the entire flat was deluged; and many men did not escape from their stores before the water was up to their waists. Had you witnessed the scene, occurring as it did in the midst of a dark and hazy night, and had you heard the rushing of the waters and the crash of the ruins, and seen the multitudes retreating in a mass from the returning flood, illumined only by the glare of torches and lanterns, and listened to the shouts and cries that escaped from them to give the alarm to those beyond, you would not be surprised at my being reminded of the host of Pharaoh as they fled and sent up their cry from the Red Sea, as it returned upon them in its strength."But the ruinous consequences were, providentially, the loss of property rather than life. The whole business portion of the city was inundated; and so entirely beyond all reasonable estimate was the rise of the waters, that a very large proportion of all the stocks of goods in the stores were flooded. Precautions had been taken, in the lower part of the city, to remove goods from the first to the second story, and yet many who did so had the floors of the second story burst up, and their goods let down into the waters below; while in the higher portions, where the goods were piled up on and about the counters, the waters rose above them, and involved them in a common destruction. Others, who did not remove their goods, suffered a total loss of them."Thus far, however, the devastation was confined to the least valuable part of the wealth of the city. The lumber on the wharves constitutes the larger portion of the available property of the city; and here a kind Providence has spared the devoted city, and by one of those singular methods by which a present evil, which seems to be the greatest that could be inflicted, is the means of averting a greater one; for it was the occurrence of the jam which, while it inundated the stores, appeared to be the means of saving the lumber. The pressure of the ice against the wharves and lumber was so great as to wedge it in with immense strength, and formed a sort of wall outside the wharves, from which the jam, when it started, separated and passed out, leaving the lumber safe, though injured."After the ice stopped, things remained in this situation during the next day, which was Sunday—the saddest and most serious Sunday, probably, ever passed in Bangor. Few, however, could spend the day in worship. All that could labor were employed, while the flood kept rising, in rescuing what property could be saved from the waters, and in taking poor families from their windows in boats."The closing scene of this dreadful disaster occurred on Sunday evening, beginning at about seven o'clock. The alarm was again rung through the streets that the jam had given way. The citizens again rushed abroad to witness what they knew must be one of the most sublime and awful scenes of nature, and also to learn the full extent of their calamity. Few, however, were able to catch a sight of the breaking up of the jam, which, for magnitude, it is certain, has not occurred on this river for more than one hundred years. The whole river was like a boiling cauldron, with masses of ice upheaved as by a volcano. But soon the darkness shrouded the scene in part. The ear, however, could hear the roaring of the waters and the crash of buildings, bridges, and lumber, and the eye could trace the mammoth ice-jam of four miles long, which passed on majestically, but with lightning rapidity, bearing the contents of both rivers on its bosom. The noble covered bridge of the Penobscot, two bridges of the Kenduskeag, and the two long ranges of saw-mills, besides other mills, houses, shops, logs, and lumber enough to build up a considerable village. The new market floated over the lower bridge across the Kenduskeag, a part of which remains, and, most happily, landed at a point of the wharves, where it sunk, and formed the nucleus of a sort of boom, which stopped the masses of floating lumber in the Kenduskeag, and protected thousands of dollars' worth of lumber on the wharves below."So suddenly and so rapidly was all this enacted, that it seems impossible to believe it to have occurred without loss of life. Yet such appears to be the happy result. Rumor, indeed, consigned many to a watery grave, who were most unexpectedly preserved. There were, for instance, twenty or thirty men on one of the bridges when it gave way, some of whom jumped into the water to save themselves, but none were lost. A raft passed down the Kenduskeag with three or four boys upon it, and they were seen floating into the vortex of the jam, but the raft passed near enough to a store for them to leap from it to a platform, and thus they saved their lives. A boat also was crossing the river when the jam started, and the river was rushing in a torrent, but they also got safe to land. Many such hazards occurred, but without the loss of a single life."I have thus given you a very hasty and unstudied narrative of this severe calamity, as I have gathered it before any account has been published. I have no time or space for reflections. There are, no doubt, many wise and good designs to be accomplished by such an event, which will readily suggest themselves to every Christian mind. The present state of our churches before this, I think, was highly promising, and the presence of God's Holy Spirit manifest. I most earnestly pray that a serious, practical, and real reformation may ensue."The individual losses are very great. Some have lost their all, and many from five to fifty thousand dollars each; yet the aggregate will be swelled, by a first estimate, far beyond its real amount. From what I have already seen, I think there is no reason whatever for the friends of Bangor abroad to entertain any distrust respecting its recovery and progressive prosperity. Such a buoyant and elastic spirit I never saw in man, as is apparent to-day, at the very moment when men usually most despond. There is no such thing as depression. Despair is a word which the active and laborious merchants of this city do not know the definition of; and as soon as time can enable man to restore the city to its former prosperity, it will be done. My prayer is that its future prosperity may be tempered by a more sanctified spirit—that the hand of God may be more recognized—the institutions of religion more generally sustained—the uncertainty and vanity of worldly possessions more deeply realized, and that this singularly appropriate antidote to a bold and Heaven-daring intemperance may dilute, if not wash it entirely away."Very truly, your friend and brother,"John West."Bangor, Maine, March 30, 1849."
"To the Rev. Dr. Tyng, New York.
"Reverend and dear Brother—We have passed through a scene within the last two or three days which will deeply interest and impress you. Our city has met with a calamity unparalleled in its annals, and perhaps unequaled, in proportion to its population and means, by any in our country. We have been inundated by the river in consequence of what is called here an ice-jam. The history of the matter is briefly as follows:
"It sometimes happens that the ice in the river breaks up above, while it remains too strong at the outlet to admit of its passing down. The consequence is the accumulation of a dam of ice which completely fills the river from bank to bank, and heaps up sometimes to the height of from fifteen to thirty feet, and thus forming a reservoir of water above it, which overflows the banks and inundates the country around.
"The present winter has been a remarkable one in the mode of the formation of the ice. After the river was first frozen over, the ice continued to form in cakes or sheets, and to flow down the rapids to the still and frozen portions, and these were drawn under. This continued until the submerged sheets were stopped by rocks or shoals; then the accumulation went on until the bed of the river became consolidated to an astonishing thickness. Around the piers of our great bridge it was cut through to the depth of about fourteen feet. Thus the entire bed of the river seemed to have become, at least except the channel, an almost solid body of ice.
A mountain seen from a distance
Chase's Mountain, as it appears from Sugar-loaf Mountain.
"The greatest fears were entertained throughout the winter for the consequences during the spring freshet, and yet no effectual precautions could be taken to guard against impending calamity. The very worst of these fears have now been more than realized.
"A few days ago the river began to break up for about thirty miles above the city, while it continued firmly bound for about twelve miles below. There were several different spots where the jams, or ice-dams were formed; and when they broke away, they came rushing down with the force of a mountain torrent, until the strong ice below resisted their progress. These jams came down one at a time, and, lodging against another below, kept increasing their magnitude. The two most formidable jams were within seven miles of the city, in the vicinity of the two largest and most important ranges of saw-mills. Those which formed above, when they broke away, passed through at Oldtown and Stillwater with little comparative damage other than carrying away the bridges, and adding to the size of the jams below.
"The first movement was the raising the two principal ranges of mills from their foundations by the rise of the water. After this the first jam that passed down swept away the Basin mills, which belong to a New York company, and which rented for above ten thousand dollars per annum. They next carried away a large range of mills belonging to some of our most enterprising citizens, and which rented for fifteen thousand dollars per annum. One of the proprietors thus lost about fifty thousand dollars. The mills in these two ranges contained about fifty saws, were possessed of the most unfailing water power, were recently fitted up with the best improved machinery, and performed last year about one third of all the business on the river.
"The jams thus worked their way down gradually, carrying destruction to bridges and small houses, and other buildings on the banks, until they were all concentrated in one immense mass of four miles in length, of great height and depth, and filling the river, which varies in width from one thousand to fifteen thousand feet from bank to bank. Of the magnitude and power of such a mass, no just conception can be formed by persons unused to similar scenes. Above the jam the water was twenty or thirty feet above its usual height, filling up the rapids, and making a dead level of the falls.
"The first injury to the city was from the breaking away of a small section of the jam, which came down and pressed against the ice on our banks. By this, twenty houses in one immediate neighborhood, on the west bank of the river alone, were at once inundated, but without loss of life. This occurred in the daytime, and presented a scene of magnificent interest. The effect of this small concussion upon the ice near the city was terrific. The water rose instantly to such a height as to sweep the buildings and lumber from the ends of the wharves, and to throw up the ice in huge sheets and pyramids. This shock was resisted by the great covered bridge on the Penobscot, which is about one thousand feet in length, and this gave time to save much property from impending destruction. But, meanwhile, another auxiliary to the fearful work had been preparing by the breaking up of the ice in the Kenduskeag River. This river flows through the heart of the city, dividing it into two equal portions. The whole flat on the margin of the river is covered with stores and public buildings, and is the place of merchandise for the city. The Kenduskeag runs nearly at right angles with the Penobscot at the point where they unite. The Penobscot skirts the city on the eastern side, and on the banks of this river are the principal wharves for the deposit of lumber.
"I must mention another circumstance to give you a just idea of our situation. There is a narrow spot in the river, about a mile below the city, at High Head, in which is a shoal, and from which the greatest danger of a jam always arises, and it was this that caused the principal inundation.
"The next incident occurred at midnight, when the bells were rung to announce the giving way of the ice. It was a fearful sound and scene. The streets were thronged with men, women, and children, who rushed abroad to witness the approach of the icy avalanche. At length it came rushing on with a power that a thousand locomotives in a body could not vie with; but it was veiled from the eye by the darkness of a hazy night, and the ear only could trace its progress by the sounds of crashing buildings, lumber, and whatever it encountered in its path-way, except the glimpses that could be caught of it by the light of hundreds of torches and lanterns that threw their glare upon the misty atmosphere. The jam passed on, and a portion of it pressed through the weakest portion of the great bridge, and thus, joining the ice below the bridge, pressed it down to the narrows at High Head. Meanwhile the destruction was in progress on the Kenduskeag, which poured down its tributary ice, sweeping mills, bridges, shops, and other buildings, with masses of logs and lumber, to add to the common wreck.
"At that moment, the anxiety and suspense were fearful whether the jam would force its way through the narrows, or there stop and pour back a flood of waters upon the city; for it was from the rise of the water consequent upon such a jam that the great destruction was to be apprehended. But the suspense was soon over. A cry was heard from the dense mass of citizens who crowded the streets on the flat, 'The river is flowing back!' and so sudden was the revulsion, that it required the utmost speed to escape the rising waters. It seemed but a moment before the entire flat was deluged; and many men did not escape from their stores before the water was up to their waists. Had you witnessed the scene, occurring as it did in the midst of a dark and hazy night, and had you heard the rushing of the waters and the crash of the ruins, and seen the multitudes retreating in a mass from the returning flood, illumined only by the glare of torches and lanterns, and listened to the shouts and cries that escaped from them to give the alarm to those beyond, you would not be surprised at my being reminded of the host of Pharaoh as they fled and sent up their cry from the Red Sea, as it returned upon them in its strength.
"But the ruinous consequences were, providentially, the loss of property rather than life. The whole business portion of the city was inundated; and so entirely beyond all reasonable estimate was the rise of the waters, that a very large proportion of all the stocks of goods in the stores were flooded. Precautions had been taken, in the lower part of the city, to remove goods from the first to the second story, and yet many who did so had the floors of the second story burst up, and their goods let down into the waters below; while in the higher portions, where the goods were piled up on and about the counters, the waters rose above them, and involved them in a common destruction. Others, who did not remove their goods, suffered a total loss of them.
"Thus far, however, the devastation was confined to the least valuable part of the wealth of the city. The lumber on the wharves constitutes the larger portion of the available property of the city; and here a kind Providence has spared the devoted city, and by one of those singular methods by which a present evil, which seems to be the greatest that could be inflicted, is the means of averting a greater one; for it was the occurrence of the jam which, while it inundated the stores, appeared to be the means of saving the lumber. The pressure of the ice against the wharves and lumber was so great as to wedge it in with immense strength, and formed a sort of wall outside the wharves, from which the jam, when it started, separated and passed out, leaving the lumber safe, though injured.
"After the ice stopped, things remained in this situation during the next day, which was Sunday—the saddest and most serious Sunday, probably, ever passed in Bangor. Few, however, could spend the day in worship. All that could labor were employed, while the flood kept rising, in rescuing what property could be saved from the waters, and in taking poor families from their windows in boats.
"The closing scene of this dreadful disaster occurred on Sunday evening, beginning at about seven o'clock. The alarm was again rung through the streets that the jam had given way. The citizens again rushed abroad to witness what they knew must be one of the most sublime and awful scenes of nature, and also to learn the full extent of their calamity. Few, however, were able to catch a sight of the breaking up of the jam, which, for magnitude, it is certain, has not occurred on this river for more than one hundred years. The whole river was like a boiling cauldron, with masses of ice upheaved as by a volcano. But soon the darkness shrouded the scene in part. The ear, however, could hear the roaring of the waters and the crash of buildings, bridges, and lumber, and the eye could trace the mammoth ice-jam of four miles long, which passed on majestically, but with lightning rapidity, bearing the contents of both rivers on its bosom. The noble covered bridge of the Penobscot, two bridges of the Kenduskeag, and the two long ranges of saw-mills, besides other mills, houses, shops, logs, and lumber enough to build up a considerable village. The new market floated over the lower bridge across the Kenduskeag, a part of which remains, and, most happily, landed at a point of the wharves, where it sunk, and formed the nucleus of a sort of boom, which stopped the masses of floating lumber in the Kenduskeag, and protected thousands of dollars' worth of lumber on the wharves below.
"So suddenly and so rapidly was all this enacted, that it seems impossible to believe it to have occurred without loss of life. Yet such appears to be the happy result. Rumor, indeed, consigned many to a watery grave, who were most unexpectedly preserved. There were, for instance, twenty or thirty men on one of the bridges when it gave way, some of whom jumped into the water to save themselves, but none were lost. A raft passed down the Kenduskeag with three or four boys upon it, and they were seen floating into the vortex of the jam, but the raft passed near enough to a store for them to leap from it to a platform, and thus they saved their lives. A boat also was crossing the river when the jam started, and the river was rushing in a torrent, but they also got safe to land. Many such hazards occurred, but without the loss of a single life.
"I have thus given you a very hasty and unstudied narrative of this severe calamity, as I have gathered it before any account has been published. I have no time or space for reflections. There are, no doubt, many wise and good designs to be accomplished by such an event, which will readily suggest themselves to every Christian mind. The present state of our churches before this, I think, was highly promising, and the presence of God's Holy Spirit manifest. I most earnestly pray that a serious, practical, and real reformation may ensue.
"The individual losses are very great. Some have lost their all, and many from five to fifty thousand dollars each; yet the aggregate will be swelled, by a first estimate, far beyond its real amount. From what I have already seen, I think there is no reason whatever for the friends of Bangor abroad to entertain any distrust respecting its recovery and progressive prosperity. Such a buoyant and elastic spirit I never saw in man, as is apparent to-day, at the very moment when men usually most despond. There is no such thing as depression. Despair is a word which the active and laborious merchants of this city do not know the definition of; and as soon as time can enable man to restore the city to its former prosperity, it will be done. My prayer is that its future prosperity may be tempered by a more sanctified spirit—that the hand of God may be more recognized—the institutions of religion more generally sustained—the uncertainty and vanity of worldly possessions more deeply realized, and that this singularly appropriate antidote to a bold and Heaven-daring intemperance may dilute, if not wash it entirely away.
"Very truly, your friend and brother,
"John West.
"Bangor, Maine, March 30, 1849."
The editor of the Bangor Courier, in some cheerful remarks upon the incidents of the event, observes:
"We could not bring ourselves to believe that the market-house, in which we had our office, would be removed. We were induced to move our materials at the earnest solicitation of friends, and under their strong advice. We felt all the while as though the alarm would soon be over, and labor resumed in the old premises, and therefore a clumsy article here and another there were left, until the value of the aggregate was about two hundred dollars, the removal of which we thought we had wisely avoided. The market moved off majestically, but with gentle dalliance, until it plunged forward from the bridge into the fast receding current of the stream, when it righted with a ship-like propriety, bearing aloft a beautiful flag-staff—emblem of Liberty, erected in honor of Henry Clay, the beloved and whole-hearted patriot and orator, who in private station receives the highest attentions and sincerest regards of the American people—and sped its way onward to the ocean, until happily bethinking how many little articles it contained which would be so missed and mourned, that it settled down with a determination to proceed no further. We visited the wreck in the evening, and, fearing it might prove our last, we bore away several pamphlets and documents as prizes. At an early hour yesterday morning we paid it another visit, when, in company with our office hands, and the kind help and timely suggestions of personal friends and a few strangers, we succeeded in securing every article of value. There happened to be one case of type left in one of the racks which had ridden out the perils and roughness of the voyage without spilling a type.
"It may be a little fanciful, perhaps, but there seems to be an increased value in these articles which have once slipped from us, made the voyage of the stream, and are, at length, so unexpectedly and singularly recovered. One of our citizens—a Kennebecker, by-the-way—was particularly zealous in saving the Whig flag-staff, declaring it should long remain to bear aloft the flag of freemen.
"The whole river seems to have been an entire mass of ice, partly solid and partly porous. The sudden rise of the river excited alarm, and its sudden subsidence, at the rate of about two feet a minute, caused astonishment.
"There is in the upper side, and near the middle of Exchange street, a large cake of ice more than five feet thick. On Broad street there are ice-balls twenty-five feet in diameter, and scattered about in every direction are thousands of smaller masses.
"It will be difficult for people who did not witness it to realize that all the business part of the city was a pool in which large vessels might sail—that Exchange street, and Main street, and others lower down, were deep canals for half their length, and that Central street was a running river. But such things were, and hundreds of stores were under water! Boats were in requisition, and various contrivances were resorted to in the effort to turn an honest penny. Among them we noticed one fellow had taken the Wall street sign, and fastened it upon the stern of his boat, in order to popularize his boat and route. The scene in the vicinity of the steam-boat wharf or at the Rose Place is truly astonishing—such heaps of ice thrown in wild confusion, furnishing a capital idea of icebergs from the Northern Ocean. We advise our friends to visit these places, and to gather in some idea of the mighty power of the flood and of the process of making ice mountains.
"It is quite wonderful, considering the suddenness and extent of the rise of the water, that no more lives were lost in this vicinity. There were some families in great peril. A family living at the Point, between Brewer village and the river, were alarmed by the approach of the flood, and started, several women in the number, for higher land in the vicinity, but, before reaching it, the water was up to their armpits. They reached what was then an island, and were compelled to remain during the night. A family living near Crosby's ship-yard could not escape, and were taken off in a boat by one of the neighbors.
"Twenty women and children, as the water flowed over the plain at Brewer, fled to a school-house, but could not return, and were obliged to go back upon the hills and remain until the water subsided.
"General Miller, at the post-office, with his clerks, had a cool time of it. They were all at work, when the flood suddenly came upon them, and filled the office to the depth of four feet. The general started, and held the door for the clerks to dodge out and escape up stairs; but Calvin lingered behind for some minutes, when the general called loudly to know what detained him.
"'Oh,' said he, wading along with the water up to his armpits, 'I stopped for the purpose of stamping these paid letters,' at the same time holding up a bundle.
"We are happy to add that Calvin remains perfectly cool, and that in three hours after getting into the old office yesterday morning, every thing was cleaned up and business going on as usual.
"The actual amount of property lost in the city by this flood is estimated by pretty good judges at between two and three hundred thousand dollars. This falls severely upon some of our citizens, but the heaviest losses come upon those able to ride out the storm."
But, notwithstanding the severity of this visitation, few traces are left to denote it, at least to impress the stranger's mind. Bridges have been re-erected, damages repaired, and the business community have risen from under it with the elasticity of a sapling oak after the tempest has overpast.
Between fifty and sixty saws were swept away, which have not yet (1848) been replaced.
The following table, showing the condition of the lumber manufacture and trade on the Penobscot, has been obtained from the most reliable sources of information, and is presented for the inspection of those interested in such matters.
Amount of long lumber sawed annually,[17]200,000,000 feet, at $10.00 perM.
Amount of laths sawed annually, 400,000,000 pieces, at $1.00 perM.
Amount of clap-boards sawed annually, 5,500,000 pieces, at $18.00 perM.
Amount of shingles[18]sawed and split annually, 110,000,000 pieces, at $2.50 perM.
Amount of pickets[19]sawed annually, 10,000,000 pieces, at $6.50 perM.
The number of men, oxen, and horses employed directly and indirectly on this river alone, would not vary, probably, much from twenty thousand.[20]
The reader may inquire with some curiosity, "Where does all this lumber find a market?" We may remind such that Maine has furnished, in times past, the principal part of the lumber consumed in the United States and the West India Islands, though other states in the Union possess immense tracts of fine timber land, which, as the lumbering interests of Maine diminish, will be cut and brought into market. Indeed, such movements have already become quite common in the western part of the State of New York, and also in Pennsylvania and Georgia, as well as in other portions of the country where there are large tracts of timber land, much of which has already been bought up by Eastern lumbermen.
In regard to the consumption of lumber, we may observe that the island of Cuba alone consumes forty millions of feet per annum for the one article of sugar-boxes. The city of Boston is supposed to make use of the same amount per annum for building and cabinet purposes.
Persons unacquainted with the resources of the Penobscot are continually anticipating a decrease in the amount of lumber from the great tribute under which our forests have been already laid; but those who are best qualified to judge estimate that there is now timber enough standing in the forests, on territories through which the waters of the Penobscot pass, to maintain the present annual operations, vast as they are, for fifty successive years, after which it is thought the amount will diminish aboutone tenthper annum until its final consumption, when, doubtless, the pursuits of the lumbermen will give place to the labors and rewards of husbandry, and to the working of the various veins of mineral deposits already known and yet to be discovered.
A period not as long, probably, as from the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth to the present time, will transpire, ere the loggers' camp will give place to the farm-house, and golden fields of waving grain relieve the sun-hid earth of the gigantic forests so long cherished upon its laboring bosom.
We can seem to look through the following prophetic verse as a magic spy-glass, which dispelstimeas well as space, and see the reality it points out pass vividly before the imagination.