Radio Script #253
Little Talks On Common Things
February 13, 1955
I am sure most of you know that one of the most interestinq and often quoted tombstone epitaphs anywhere in the United States is right here in Central Mai ne, in the old fort cemetery at Wi ns low. As often as you have heard the i nscripTion repeated, please listen to it once more. Here it is:
“Here lies the body of Richard Thomas, an Englishman by birth, a Whig of ’76, by occupation a cooper, now food for worms. Like an old rampuncheon, marked, numbered and shooked, he wi II be raised again and finished by his creator. He died September 28, 1824, aged 75. America, my adopted country, my best advice TO you is this: Take care of your liberties.”
Winslow is nOT the only Maine town to boast an unusual memorial to the dead. At Sandy Point is a monument erected over the grave of Captain Albert Partridge. It is made of polished granite in the shape of the globe. A map cutinto The stone shows the continents, with the names of some of the Captain’s most noted ports of ca II, such as Boston. Li verpoo I , Copenha!]en, Hamburg, Amsterdam and Brest, as well as Valparaiso and Rio de Janeiro in South America, and ports in Australia and New Zealand.
Down at Eastport is one of the shortest ep itaphs ever seen. The enti re inscription reads: “Lorenzo Sabine, died 1877, aged 74. Transplanted.”
At the other end of the state, in a cemetery at Kittery Point, is a stone with These four lines:
III lost my life in the ragi ng seas;
A sovereign God does as he please.
The KitTery friends they did appear
And my remains they buried here.”
In Waldoboro’S old German cemetery is a monument remindful of the hard- ships of those early settlers. It says: I!This town was settled in 1848 by Germans who emigrated to this place with the promise and expectation of finding a prosperous ci ty, instead of wh i ch they found noth i nq but wi I derness. If Over in East Otisfield, where Colby’s Chaplain Clifford Osborne has his summer home, the natives sti I I speak of Professor Holden, whose stubborn belief is heralded on his monument. The inscription says: rrprof. Joseph vI. Holden, born Otisfield, Maine, August 24,1816. Died March 30,1900. Prof. Holden, the old astronomer, discovered that the Earth is flat and stationary, and that the sun and moon do move.”
In the Town of Norway is a cemetery stone with an epitaph which the inscription te I Is us the victim wrote himself: nAsa Barton, aged 54 years. His faults are buried with him beneath this stone. His virtues, if he had any, are remembered by his friends. This is his own epitaph.”
In the town of Lyman is a monument in the shape of a house. Next to it is another, shaped like a sma I fer house. Each has doors and windows. On the larger house are the names WilliamG. and Caroline W. Chadbourne; on the smaller is Sally P. Chadbourne.
Many years ago in West Ripley there died a man who claimed to be an atheist.
His loyal relatives therefore set up a big stone with the following long inscription, just as the old fellow’s last wi II and testament demanded. Here it is:
PI came without my own consent,
Lived a few years much discontent
At human errors grieving.
I ruled myself by reason’s laws,
BUT got contempt and not applause
Because of disbelieving.
For nothing e’er could me convert
To faith some people did assert.
But now the grave does me inclose,
The supe rst I t I ous w I I I suppose
I’m doomed to he II’s damnation.
But as to that they do not know
Opinions oft from ignorance flow,
Devoid of sure foundation.
‘Tis easy man should be deceived
When anything by them’s believed
Without a demonstration.”
have never heard of any boner epitaphs In Maine, but I assure you boners do occur on tombstone Inscriptions Just as they occur on the printed page. Over in Derry, New Hampshire a stonecutter Intending to Inscribe the words “My G I ass I s Run” made a m I stake I n on I y one p I ~ce, the f ina I I ette r.
So the re I t stands — that stone — p roc I a I m I ng to the wor I d “My G I ass is Rum.” Another stonecutter in Cooperstown, New York left off the final letter from the well known I ine, “Lord, she Is Thine”, so that it reads “Lord, she is Thin”. Probably one can find somewhere in a Malne cemetery the spelling mistake that must have occurred many times, where angel is spelled “angle il , so that about the deceased the epitaph proclaims, “Gone to be an angle”. So much for humorous epitaphs. Let me now mention one quite different.
It is one of the tenderest ep i taphs I have ever seen, and is ina cemetery In my own nati ve town of Br i dgton. I tis a fa I r Iy recent stone, memorl a I I zing a woman who died no longer ago than 1912. It says:
“Pattie Choate. Died 1912, aged 68.
Her task in life, divinely planned,
Was finished in the fadinq light;
She took her ready lamp In hand
And sof t I y sa i d ‘Good Night’.”
In our frequent mention of rai I roads there is one small, but once important Maine railroad that we have entirely overlooked. It is called to our attent ion by S. F. Haske I I, now stati on agent for the Ma i ne Cent ra I at Oak I and.
So by a II means let us inc I ude toni ght what Mr. Haske II refers to as the Knox Rai Iroad. It was a standard guage, eight miles long, from Warren to Union, with a spur at North ~/arren extending half a mile to a limestone quarry. The little I ine was originally called the Georges Valley Rai I road, but in 1919 the name was changed to the Knox Ra i I road. As t’-1a I ne Centra I stati on agent at Warren, Mr. Haske II had to conduct busi ness for the Ii tt Ie road as we II as for the Ma i ne Centra I. Un like so many of these Ii tt Ie branch lines, the Knox never became off i cia I I y part of the big Ma i ne Centra I •
The road was at first intended as a narrow quage. The company was organized in 1889, right at the time when the bui Iding of the little two-footers was most popular in Maine. But something happened to delay laying the eight mi les of track, so that, when the stock was increased to $100,000 in 1892, decision was made to make the road standard guage. The road was completed in November, 1893, and on the fi fteenth of that month there was a proper celebration in the Georges River Va Iley. There were dedi cati on exerci ses, a band concert J parade, fireworks, and free rides over the line between Union and Warren. The road cost $85,000, of which less than $1,700 was paid for right of way. A locomotive cost $2,000 and a combination car $850. Freight hauled included wooden stock for the making of cases for Monmouth Canning Company, many carloads of apples and other farm products. But the pri nci pa I sh i pments were those of the ~1cLoon and Stover Lime Company. Passenger fare from Warren to Union was forty cents.
Mr. Haskell tells me the road’s equipment consisted of two engines, one coach, one combination, and one wedge snowplow. In the old days at Union fair ti rre they hi red four coaches from the Ma i ne Centra I and f i I led them. The last locomotive used by the Knox road was bought from the ~4aine Central where, as old No. 59,it had hauled passenger trains between Brunswick and Lewiston.
The little Knox Rai I road folded up in 1939. In that year the W. H. Lane and Sons Company of Portland — the same company that had taken up the rai Is of the Sandy River and Rangeley Lakes, the \’1iscasset and \1atervi lie .• and other narrow quage lines — comp leted the job of scrapp i ng the Knox Ra i I road. Recounting the event, the Portland Press Herald said in its issue of May 21, 1939: “Truck service had taken over the business. Just as this railroad itself replaced the stage coach, it in turn is beinQ replaced by the automobile,”
In spite of my long connection with Colby College, I have said very little about what life was like at the college, according to the old letters and diaries written more than a hundred years ago. So let us devote a few minutes tonight to a glimpse of the college in i’latervi lie in 1830.
To begin with, a student who sought admission in those days had to prove himself, by examination, proficient in both Latin and Greek, ancient and modern geography, vulgar and decimal fractions, proportions, doctrines of roots and powers, and algebra to equations of the second degree. He must also know Eng Ii sh grammar thorough I y.
Once accepted, the student had to pay 25 cents for a copy of the col leqe regulations and sign the following pledge: HHaving become a rrember of Watervi lie College, I promise obedience to a” the laws and regulations both of the trustees and the faculty,”
The student was kept busy in classroom, chapel or study hall from 6:30 to 12 each morning, and from 2:30 in the afternoon unti I evening prayer service, and then from 7 to 9 each evening. The only recreation period was between the close of the noon mea I and 2: 30 P.M,
There was no such th i n9 as e lecti ve subjects. For everyone of the four years the course was rigidly prescribed, the same for every student. Twice a year every student was given an orcH examination, not in one subject at a time, but on his whole over-all program. College professors who talk about comprehens i ve exami nati ons on genera I educati on as new ventures shou I d take note of that Colby examination plan of 1830. The examination was hel<l “in the presence of such literary persons as may p lease to attend.”
There were pretty stern re I i gious requi rements at the co liege 120 years ago. Every student had to attend prayers at 6:30 in the morning and 5:30 in the afternoon, and attend some place of public worship every Sunday. Puritan observance of the Sabbath was rigidly enforce<l. The rule rea<l: !!Students shall avoid all unnecessary business, walking abroad, receivlnq company, and playing on musical Instruments on Sunday.”
What a harassed man Colby’s dean of men, George Nickerson, would belf he had to make even the faintest attempt to enforce the rules of 1830. Just listen to some of them.
“No STudent without permission shall be absent from his room after nine o ‘c lock at night. I n case of vexati ous deportment tOtiard his roommate, the student sha II be subject to forfeiture of his room.
IINo sTudent shall keep firearms or any deadly weapons whatever. He shall bri n9 no gunpowder upon the college p remi ses; nor sha II cats or dogs be kept by students for thei r private use or pleasure.
IINo sTudent shall at any time smoke a pipe or cigar!’ — cigarettes were then, of course, unknown — tlin any entries or public rooms of the college or near any of The outbui Idings, nor shall any student keep any ardent spirits or wines of any kind.
“lf a student shall play at dice, cards, backgammon, or any such game, he shall be punished.
“No student sha II enter the rooms of another stu<ient at any ti me wi thout the latter’s perml ss ion.
‘!No student shall, without leave of the President, eat or drink in any tavern in Watervl I Ie, nor sha II he attend any theatri ca I enterta inment or I die show.
“No student shall make any bonfire, play with firecrackers, go sporting or fishing, under penalty of admonition or suspension.”
College life seems to have been pretty grim and serious here In Watervi lie 125 years ago. What in the world did those students do for fun, or didn’t they have any? And wi th that questi on we bid you goodn I ght for old ti mes’ sake.
Year: 1955