Radio Script #246
Little Talks On Common Things
December 26, 1954
J’.bre than once lately I have referred to the interest business men are i. taki ng in the cause of education. It is hearteni ng to some of us who have spent a I ite-time in classroom and laboratory, trying to help young people to better and fu Iler lives, to have American bus i ness taki ng the side of the schools. I nstead of calling for less money for education in order to reduce their taxes, America’s i ndustri a I leaders ca II for bigger spendi ng to support our schoo1s.
In a recent pub I ication, under the heading !llndustry Opposed Neglecting Our Schools”, the National Association of Manufacturers had this to say: “Twenty-two years from now our country wi II be 200 years 01 d. Even today, America’s leaders of 1976 are studying in our schools and colleges. Industry beIieves each c i tl zen s hou I d do what he can to II gh ten the I’oad, to support and encourage the teacher in America, to be an active and sympathetic front of education.
Industry acknow ledges that one of education’s most press ing prob fems is finance. Many teachers are underpaid, and the schools’ physical plants need zxpansion. Through contributions by private individuals, organizations, clubs and associations, through the growing practice of corporate giving, and through sufficient allocation of tax funds, adequate financial support must be provided to maintain and Improve our schools in face of a rising population. This Is an obligation in which American industry must have a part.”
Speaking of the National Association of Manufacturers, one of the finest statements of our greatest national need that I have ever seen in print comes from the pen of Charles Sligh, former president of the N. A. M. this is the way he puts It:
“No factory can turn out the comnnd ity known as courage. No assemb Iy line can produce a series of moral principles. No machine tool can stamp out suppiies of integrity and honor, of faith and perseverance, of a sense of responsibility to the pub I ic Interest. These th ings must come from with in each of us. Only as we bui Id as individuals from within wi II we be able to go forward together — toward a greater America. and the promise of tonnrraol.”
Wi ns low once di d have a tin mi ne. That is a fact, and there are persons sti II I i vi ng who remember that mi ne. It was located, and its entrance can sti II be seen, on the east side of the Augusta Road, In the gully through which flows the Garland Brook. For the benefit of our I isteners who are not famil iar with that name, let me say I refer to the deep gully which the automobile rider enters with dip and then rise, only a few hundred yards beyond the poultry processing plant and the drive-in theater just out of Wins 1011 village on the road to Augusta.
Albert Chamberlain of Winslow remembers that the mine was operating when he was a small boy. Mrs. Thomas Burleigh learned about the mine from Sam Chaffee, on whose land the mine was sunk. Herbert Simpson has often visited the spot. Several persons tell me it has long been believed that the vein of tin extends across the river onto the Sidney side. But, as we have found to be the case in our investigation of simi lar subjects, it is to a man who patiently kept a scrap book that we are in debt for the most detailed information.
This time the man with the scrap book is Daniel Wing of Winslow. He has given me the delightful opportunity to examine that whole book, for which I am extremely grateful. But his chief purpose in letting me see It was to call my attention to a newspaper clipping concerning Winslow’s tin mine. That clipping indeed te II s an I nterestl ng story.
In 1867 a tired fox hunter, who had some years ear I ler gone to Ca I I forn i a with the 4gers, and therefore knew something about metals In the soil, kneeled beside Garland Brook to drink from the cool water. As he rose to his feet, he noti ced a pecu I iar rock formation in the bed of the rock. He fol lowed the quartz vein to the other side of the stream, and picked up a few pieces of loose rock. Subsequent analysis revealed that the rock contained a heavy percentage of tin. Dr. A. C. Hamlin of Bangor, a man who showed a I ife-Iong interest in Maine minerals, succeeded in interesting Boston investors in the formation of the Maine Tin Mining Company, to develop the veins of tin on the Chaffee farm.
Purchasing mineral rights of the owners, pay·lng $100 to get waivers of rights from every nei ghboring farmer, and emp I oyi n9 sane th I rty men, the company proceeded to sink a shaft no feet deep, near where the fox hunter had picked up the pieces of tin-bearing rock. The crew erected a bunkhouse and blacksmith shop, and operated the mine for about a year. Then the whole enterprise collapsed. The end came sudden I y, accord i ng to Sam Cha ffee • As he used to te I I the story, a member of the company left its Boston offi ce with payroll and supp lies for the mine, but he never arrived in Winslow. He absconded with the money and the workmen went unpaid. The mine was abandoned and was never reopened.
As Interesting as is Sam Chaffee’s account, less gifted story tellers insisted that the mine did not close down in a year, but kept running with small output until about 1885. Indeed, if the mine opened in 1867 or 1868 and closed within a year, even as old a gentleman as Mr. Chamberlain couldn’t have seen it in operation in his boyhood. It is Indeed probable that tin was extracted fran the mine’s yield for some fifteen years or more, and that what finally closed the mine was that the general contour of the region and the low quality of the ore, made the expense of continued operation prohibitive.
There Is more to the story than I have dug out of the old tin mine bes’ide Garland Brook, and on a later Sunday even ing I’ll te II you more about it.
A I istener wants to know what has become of the old Boston crackers. Why, bless you, they are still with us, or at least something like them. In neat packages the stores now se II Common Crackers. Tney are tastier and not so tough as the Boston crackers of 50 years ago, but II ke them, the present crackers are round and th i ck and break eas i I Y into ha I ves for conven i ent use as chowder crackers. Di d you know that in the heyday of the Boston crackers, the housewife sometimes split them to make plum pudding? The same I istener wants to know how long since have seen a dry codfish hanging in a girocery store. I refer this listener to page 116 of HKennebec Yesterdays”.
There he wi II read my honest Maine disdain of the 1Ot/ly Massachusetts cod. Let me repeat what I wrote in the book: “The sovereign Commonwealth of Massach usetts w I I I a Ilow no one to th i nk of sa It fish except in te rms of the sacred cod, but that didn’t daunt Maine folk half a century ago. Good rViaine pollock salted just as well, weren’t so heavy, and tasted better. Those salt fish reached the store in hundred pound bales, which were immediately opened and the fish then hung from rafters by their tails. Common crackers and milk made a ‘ good dish anyhow, but to be a real treat they needed, as apple pie needs cheese, the addition of rich yellow flakes from salt pollock.l1
That’s my stand. Salt fish to me is ~~alne pollock, not Massachusetts cod.
But indeed, it has been a long time since I have seen It hanging from the rafters in any country store.
Some time ago I referred to the Dinsmores of Anson, one of whose descen-:-i dants is the manager of this radio station WTVL. Ton ight want to te II you about a letter written by a member of that Dinsmore fami Iy 120 years ago. From far away New Orleans in 1835 Robert Dinsmore wrote a long letter to his wife Esther in Anson, Maine. Robert was a poet at heart. Just note the romantic flavor of his opening sentence: “Dear wife, I have just been repairing my oId si Iver pen and find that it loves to write so well I conclude to let it run a while after my thoughts, and the first thing I thought of was home and you.”
Robert found expenses high in New Orleans, just as Erasmus Howard had found them a few years earl ier when, from the same southern city, he wrote to his doctor father in Sidney. He managed to get board for five dollars a week with a private fami Iy, because he couldn’t stand the rate of ten dollars in the regular boarding houses.
Robert tells about a trip up the Mississippi to Natchez, where he stopped
with Theophi Ius Ti Iton, who was making good lOOney getting out timber and putting
I t up into frames for bu i I dings. On th is job Theoph i I us used four s I aves, two of whom he owned, whi Ie he hired the other two by paying their owners $35 a rronth. Robert noted that Theoph II us a Iso owned one fema Ie slave, and tht the total value of his three slaves exceeded $4,000. Robert envied Tilton’s success pointing out that, starting with almost no capital five years earlier, the man had already accumulated a respectable estate.
He knew his wife would not bel,leve such a yarn, but Robert assured her that in New Orleans cammon laborers got the huge wage of forty dollars a month. Robert saw an unusual opportunity for women. He wrote: ”There is great encouragement for girls to come here from the north, as they can make a fortune by their I a;”, bor in a short time, or there Is three chances to one that they can marry a man of fortune, because men here are much more numerous than werren. Let these girls come, for it will give those left beh ind in Maine a better chance to get married at home.”
Robert continued his remarks about prices: “Who ever heard of beef selling so high — 25¢ a pound? But that is the outrageous price they get for it here.
Who would think of paying $2.50 for a tur-key? But folks here do pay that unheard of price.”
Perhaps Robert was subtly trying to induce his wife to join him in New Orleans by means of the follONlng words: “Raising pouttry In this country is no bad business. As there Is no winter, they need but tittle feeding, and a hen wi II raise three or four litters of chickens in a year. I think a woman might make $500 a year at this business if only she had a small capital to begin with, and was not so ch i cken-hearted as to be afra i d to commence the bus iness.”
Robert attended a masquerade ball, which was clearly one of the balls of the pre-Lenten season that later became the celebrated Mardi Gras. Let us see how Robert Oi nsmore descrl bed his ba II. ‘IThe ha II, 40 feet w I de and 150 feet long, was I I ghted by 125 b rill I ant gas I I ghts • One end was occup i ed by the sta i rway and bar, where refreshments were served. A man cannot be admitted unti I he pays a dollar. If he has overcoat or cloak, he must leave it. Then he must be searched for weapons and leave any at the door. In attendance were 500 persons. Some of the ladies’ dresses and jewelry cost over $3,000. Some were dressed I ike queens, others I ike servants, each one different from the rest. Many represented some national dress, and to cap It all, each one had on a mask, no two of which looked alike. Some of the masks made white girls look black, whi Ie others made b lack girls look white. Some were very handsome and some very ugly, even hideous and frightful. There were about twice as many men as women, not more than a quarter of the men masked. Many attended on Iy out of curiosity. The dancing was not uniform, but each couple according to their own national mode of dancing. As the assembly was composed of nearly all national ities, each acting as its members pleased, everyone had a good time. II We wonder what was the reacti on of Esther 01 nsmore back home In Anson,
Maine, when she received this letter from the silver pen, which, when Its o.-tner let it run on, ran for two pages about the good time he had without her at a New Orleans masquerade bal I.
Year: 1954