Radio Script #1003

Little Talks on Common Things
March 3, 1974

Sometime ago I told on this program about Lovell Fairbrother, an early pioneer of Norridgewock, who cleared the first farm carved out of the wilderness at the junction of the Sandy River with the Kennebec. Only a few weeks ago I saw two deeds of land conveyed by that same Lovell Fairbrother to a man in Winslow three months before what Ralph Waldo Emerson later called the “shot heard round the world.” The memorable skirmish between colonial minutemen and British soldiers took place on April 19, 1775. Lovell Fairbrother had then been living for some time in Norridgewock, Maine, and he would be there when Benedict Arnold’s expedition came up the Kennebec the following September. Meanwhile, on July 18, 1775, Fairbrother had sold two pieces of land to Joel Crosby of Winslow.

Both deeds, executed on the same day, begin in the quaint language of the time: “I, Lovell Fairbrother of a place called Norridgewock on the Kennebec River in the County of Lincoln and province of Massachusetts Bay in New England, in consideration of fifty pounds lawful money to me in hand hereof well and truly paid, by Joel Crosby of Winslow, in the county and province aforesaid, yeoman, the receipt whereof I do hereby acknowledge and myself thereof fully satisfied and contented, do exonerate and discharge said Joel Crosby, his heirs and assigns forever – I have given, granted, bargained and sold and forever quit claim unto said Joel Crosby, his heirs and assigns forever, all the rights, title, claim and demand that I have in a certain tract of land.”

Then, in each case, follows a description of the land.

The first piece that Crosby bought of Fairbrother was 200 acres on the east side of the Sebasticook, three miles north of the north line of the town of Winslow, a town that had been incorporated only four years earlier in 1771. Since the land was bound on the west by the Sebasticook we know the land must have been in what is now the town of Benton. The other piece of land was described as “lying on the east side of the Kennebec River a little below Norridgewock”.

On both deeds appears the name of a well known Waterville pioneer, John McKechnie, surveyor of all the Kennebec River lots in this region for the Proprietors of the Kennebec Purchase, and builder of Waterville’s first sawmill and gristmill. Appended to each deed are the words: “Signed, sealed and delivered in the presence of John McKechnie and Daniel Smith.”

About two years ago I became interested in the history of what Maine law still calls the reserved lots. When early Maine towns were incorporated, their charters, issued by Massachusetts, first as a colonial province and later as a state of the United States, decreed that in each town there should be set aside certain reserved lots, usually of two hundred acres each: one for support of the minister, one for the first settled minister, and one for schools. A fourth lot was sometimes reserved to the granting commonwealth and sometimes reserved for Harvard College.

What I have wanted to know is the origin of that custom. It became definitely fixed in Massachusetts law when that commonwealth adopted its state constitution in 1785. But how did it get started?

Only a few weeks ago my friend, Vincent York of Phillips, himself a recognized Maine historian and President of the Phillips Historical Society, gave me the first definite clue I have had to solve that question. Vincent called my attention to a passage in the autobiography of General Benjamin Butler of Civil War fame. In the first chapter of his book Butler referred to early days in New Hampshire, where his ancestors settled. He wrote: “The New Hampshire townships were all laid out with a church lot, a parsonage lot or glebe, and a school lot, after the manner of the Church of England. This was in conformance with an order by the Council to the ministers.”

By “ministers” Butler meant government officials, not clergymen; by “council” he meant the Council of Plymouth established by royal charter in 1620. Early in the 17th century an association of peers, knights and gentlemen had been formed in England to promote settlement in America. In 1606 that association, under a charter from King James I, was divided into two companies called the London Company and the Plymouth Company. In 1620 the Plymouth Company petitioned for a new charter. Granted by the King in that same year, it changed the title to “the council established at Plymouth in the County of Devon, for planting, ruling and governing New England in America, between the 40th and the 48th parallels of latitude from sea to sea.”

The short name became the Plymouth Council, and its territory between the two designated latitudes extended from the mouth of the Hudson River to the St. Lawrence. Two members of the Plymouth Council were George Mason and Ferdinando Gorges. In 1621 Mason obtained from the Council a tract from Salem around Cape Ann to the Merrimack. The next year Mason and Gorges together got possession of all lands between the Merrimack and the Kennebec Rivers. Mason took what became N. H., Gorges took Maine.

It was not long before it became clear that the Mason-Gorges grant conflicted with the grant already made directly to the colony at Plymouth set up by the Pilgrims in 1620. Dispute over the lands continued for more than half a century, until in 1675 the colony then known as the Province of Massachusetts Bay gained control of Gorges’ Maine lands.

What emerges in our investigation of the reserved lots, is an important religious distinction between Gorges and the Magistrates of Massachusetts Bay. Gorges was a strong supporter both of the Church of England and of King Charles I. The Massachusetts settlers had no use for the Church of England and they supported Parliament and Oliver Cromwell against the King. Therefore, while the statement in Ben Butler’s book reveals how the concept of reserved lots got into the Gorges grants, it still does not explain how it became accepted by the Episcopal-hating Magistrates of Massachusetts Bay. We do know that, when the Massachusetts state constitution was adopted in 1785, the laws at once set up under that constitution required that reserved lots be set aside in all new towns incorporated by that state.

We also know that, by the time of the Revolution, Episcopalians had got a foothold in Boston and were allowed their freedom of worship. In fact many leading merchants, ship owners and importers in Boston were Episcopalians. Such, for instance, was Sylvester Gardiner, head of the corporation called the Proprietors of the Kennebec Purchase, that got possession of all lands on both sides of the Kennebec from Gardiner to Norridgewock. Also Episcopalians were Gardiner’s associates Benjamin Hallowell and Florentius Vassall.That explains why the first churches organized on the Kennebec above Merrymeeting Bay were the Episcopal churches at Pownalborough (now Dresden} and at Gardiner.

So it is quite possible that, because Episcopal merchants became the principal investors in Maine lands, the old Church of England concept of reserved lots, taken over from church practice in England, became acceptable in Massachusetts as early as 1750. The fact remains, however, that I have so far found no direct evidence of such acceptance. On this matter my question still is, how did the reserved lot concept of the Church of England get into laws made by the predominant orthodox non-conformists of Massachusetts?

Some of the old-time ordinances passed by Waterville voters many years ago have been mentioned more than once on this program. Such was the ordinance that prohibited the cleaning of fish and leaving the offal on the river bank between Clark’s shipyard and Temple’s landing – which would be the shoreline of the Kennebec now from the Hathaway factory to the 2 cent footbridge. Another ordinance forbade the carrying of live coals in an uncovered receptacle through the streets in a wheelbarrow. A third forbade driving a horse across Ticonic Bridge faster than a walk.

Here’s another old ordinance that I have not previously mentioned on the program. On May 2, 1808, it was voted: “Whereas the practice of playing ball in Ticonic Village is productive of evil consequences, particularly in destroying the meetinghouse and the schoolhouse windows, it is therefore decreed that, if any person be found playing ball or throwing snowballs anywhere within 15 rods of said meetinghouse or schoolhouse, he shall pay a fine of not more than four dollars and not less than fifty cents.”

Another ordinance, passed in 1819, stated: “Any person who, during any town meeting, shall stand on any pew or seat in either meetinghouse in town shall pay for each offense a fine of 50 cents.” By either meetinghouse was meant the meetinghouse on the Waterville common where the present City Hall now stands and the meetinghouse in the western part of the town that is now Oakland Village.

On August 29, 1828, the town voted that henceforth horses and cattle should be forbidden to feed on the burial ground near the academy. That was the old cemetery at the corner of Elm and Park Streets that is now Monument Park. The academy referred to was Waterville Academy, whose building stood just south of the park where is now the high-rise apartment building, Elm Towers.

Sometimes, in the old days, a creditor had to wait a long time before he got money owed him by the town. It was April, 1806, before Waterville’s first lawyer, Reuben Kidder, was paid for an expense he had incurred in connection with the local celebration on the previous Fourth of July. On April 7, 1806, the town meeting voted to recompense Kidder for his payment of $42.33 for a barrel of rum.

Finally, just to show how little money was spent for certain services in the old days, consider this item from the Waterville town records. “March 5, 1821 – John Partridge was chosen Keeper of the East Meetinghouse, to sweep the same after each town meeting and to lock and unlock the same on all proper occasions, for which services he is to be paid four dollars a year.”

Year: 1974