Radio Script #303
Little Talks On Common Things
April 29, 1956
In these days when we hear so much about anti-democratic practices and racial discrimination in col lege fraternities, refreshing news comes from the campus of Rutgers Un i vers i ty in New Jersey. I n the fa I f of 1947 twe I ve undergraduates, nine of whom were ex-service men, decided that the existing fraternities were not in keeping with the democratic traditions of Rutgers’ founders. So they organized their own fraternity group, without any restrictions except character and individual worth. Today in that fraternity’s membership are an Indonesian Chinese, a Japanese, an Albanian, a Korean and four Negroes. Commenting on the success of the new fraternity, which for four successive years has stood highest in scholarship of al I the fraternal groups at Rutgers, the New York Times said: “If all fraternities operated on the same basis as Gamma Sigma at Rutgers, there would be far less reason for criticism of the fraternity system on the grounds that it produces unwholesome social by-products in the forms of snobbery, rac i a I p rej ud ice, and undemocrat i c d i scr i mi nati on.”
Only a few times in our more than 300 broadcasts have we mentioned the beautiful and thriving Franklin County town of Farmington. want to pay some attenti on to that town ton i ght. A few weeks ago Gera I d Breton of Autumn Street, Watervi lie, loaned me a copy of the Farmington Chron’icle dated September 14, 1865 –M,.2Jmost 90 years ago.
JI’U.’;,.~.-‘.t That paper was then published by L. N. Prescott and J. S. Swift, at $2.00 a year, or $1.50 if paid in advance. Less than six months befqre this particular issue came from the press, the bitter and bloody Civi I War had at last ended.
In November, 1864 Abraham Lincoln had been reelected by a coalition of Republicans and Union Oemocrats~ and the coalition had cal led itself the Union Party.
That party was sti II strong in Maine in the September state election of 1865. Governor Cony ~ who had been elected over the Democrat Judge fh.Jard l::¥ nearly 9~000 majority in 1864~ defeated the judge again in 1865 by over 10,000 votes. In its September 14th issue the Farmington Chronicle gave the complete election returns from Franklin County. Farmington itself supported the Union ticket by better than two to one; New Sharon did the same by four to one, and Wilton by three to one. The only towns in the county to go Democratic rather than Union were Madrid and New Vineyard.
Franklin County in 1865 sent a solid Union delegation to the State Legislature, although only the year before~ in Strong, a Democrat had defeated the Union candidate.
The year 1865 saw the first unsuccessful attempt to lay the Atlantic cable by the big~ i II-fated~ luxurious steamship Great Eastern. The history of that fabulous vessel, first published as one of the New Yorker magazine’s famous profi les, appeared as a book about a year ago; and attracted wide and favorable attention. Probably many of you listeners read it.
Well~ anyhow~ 90 years ago up in Farmington peop Ie were interested in the laying of the Atlantic cable. The Chronicle reported: “The English journals are fi I led with the subject of the lost telegraph cable, and varied opinions are expressed as to future moves. The p reva iii ng fee ling is one of conf i dence in the ultimate success of the Atlantic telegraph line. Probably nothing wil I be done to recover the cable this season~ for the Great Eastern has moorings at Shearness. Capta in Anderson ~ her commander, says it wi II requi re two months to provide proper gear for lifting the cable. He suggests that a new cable should be made and laid next May, and the old one then picked up and repaired. He thinks it useless to try to lay the cable during the winter months.”
It is hard for us, ninety years later, to realize what that cable meant. Many years earlier, the great Wi Iliam Pitt had risen in the House of Commons to . protest against the government’s oppressive legislation toward the American coloni es. One of his most powerfu I arguments had been, “Three thousand mi les of ocean roll between England and America. When Parliament decides on relief for the colonies, it wi II take another month for the colonists to learn of your action.”
Today when wireless messages by telegraph and telephone flash allover the world, it is indeed hard for us to realize what a tremendous difference in communication between the Old World and the New was made by that first Atlantic Cab Ie.
When that 1865 issue of the Chronicle appeared, Farmington had no public library. There was a small Circulating library for the members of the Phi 10- mathean Society, which had voted to donate its books as a nucleus for a public library. It wasn’t meant to be a free library, of wh i ch there were indeed very few in the whole nation in 1865. Listen to the terms which the Phi lomatheans laid down. “Anyone paying $10 at one time becomes a member of the Farmington Library Association, the holder of a share in the library, and shal I have permanently, without further payment, the right to take out books. Anyone paying one. dollar wi II be entitled for one year to take out books. Subscriptions for a shorter ti me wi II be rece i ved. When the library has so much increased as to render it just and proper to do so, the Association may increase the price of future shares and subscriptions, or may I imit the number of shares.-”
The list of recently added books, which accompanies the Association’s statement in the Chronicle, reveals something about best sellers of 90 years ago. Among them was just one book we I I known today: “The Autocrat at the Breakfast Table” by Oliver Wendell Holmes. Other books on the list, long since lost in oblivion, were ”The Boy’s Own Toymaker”, “History of the Discovery of America”, “Parlor Magic’!, ‘?Small ‘s Anatomy and Physiology” and a book bearing. the all iterative title “Fruits, Flowers and Farming”.
The late 1860’s were the days of big religious camp meetings. One such, accordi ng to the Farmi ngton Chron i c Ie, assemb led each summer at East Li venTPre.
In That summer of 1865 the meeting saw the setting up of sixteen big Tents, representing Farmington, Strong, Wi Iton, Wayne, Winthrop, Livermore, and other towns as far away as Fairfield. The Chronicle’s correspondent commented: “The ci rcle of tents has been moved north of the former spot to ground where the shade i s much th i cke r • ”
The pri nci pa I preacher seems to have been Rev. John A lien, known as “Camp MeeTing Johnf!. There were morning, afternoon and evening sermons every day for a week. On Friday, the Chronicle tel Is us, there were 4,000 people in attendance. ”The day”, says the Chron i c Ie, “was very warm and the dust was suffocati ng.”
That then old time camp meetings were frequently scenes of disorder is shown by the fo I low i ng statement i n the Ch ron i c Ie’s account: “The meet i ng was comparatively free from noise and disturbance, owing to the prompt and efficient action of the police. One rum seller was arrested and paid his fine. Let this be a warn i ng for the next year. T!
A Farmington resident wrote the Chronicle a letter telling about his recent tr i p to Lew i ston • Among othe r th i ngs he sa i d, “Lew i ston needs a I a rge r an d more commodious post office, or at least a sign on the one they have, so that a stranger can know it when he comes to it. I have visited the Maine State Seminary, recently changed to Bates College. This is a fine institution in a beautiful locality, but I did not find the attendance as large as I expected. They talk of dividing the college, one part to be located in Pittsfield, for females only, leaving only males at Lewiston.” Then the letter writer puts in a plug for coeducation. “I do not believe in separating the sexes. Their society is a restra i nt upon each other.”
The writ’er admits, in spite of the reputat’ion of Bates as a more orderly p I ace than Bowdoin, th at what he ca I I s “co I I ege scrapes” do occas i ona II y occ ur at the Lew i ston co I lege. He says, “A fine bust of Pres i dent Cheney was c I andestinely taken from the bui Iding and no tidings were heard of it for some time. It fi na Ily showed up in Barnum’s Museum in New York.”
Like most of the newspapers of a century ago, the Farmington Chronicle in 1865 contained some interesting ads. Here is one of the neatest dunning notices I have ever seen: “When accounts of large amount have been sutfered to remain unti I my capital is about equally divided between myself and my creditors, no one should feel hurt at being politely invited, as I now write those indebted to me, to ca I I and settle, and much ob Ii ge your obedi ent servant, o. H. Chandler.”
John Knowlton advertised wheel hubs of various kinds. Z. Knowles warned folks against’ giving credit to his son, who had left home. Cyrus Gardner, the pound keeper, advertised that he held three yearling cattle, two steers and a he i fer. Owner cou Id have them by payi ng costs and damage.
James Welch wanted 300,000 hoops and 100 hoop poles, and was ready to pay cash for them. T. M. Davis advertised a strange combination: corn, rye, pIaster and tar. Dr. Randall, the dentist, assured the public that he had been in practice since 1847 over the harness store of Wi I liam Tarbox, sign of the golden tooth. Lawry, the photographer, would supply you with a dozen pictures for $1 .25. The Civi I War had just ended and claim agents were numerous. Three of them had ads in this single issue of the Chronicle. They were ready to help the exsoldiers get’ pensions, bounties, arrears of pay, and prize money. The agents would even advance money pending the settlement of claims.
So much for what interested people in Farmington ninety years ago. Let us close tonight with reference to an era longer ago than 1865, to a time when the nation was new and George Washington was President. A few weeks ago we told you what the Maine log cabins were like. In the earliest settlements life was pretty rough and clothing of both sexes rather nondescript. But as the farms were gradually cleared, homespun clothes were common. So let us see how Maine women in the rural set~lements dressed in 1800.
Most Maine farms of any consequence had a field of flax. I remember seeing, as a sma I I boy, a bundle of flax tied up and dried through the years, in the barn chamber of my great-grandfather’s big barn at West Gorham. Well, when the flax matured, women pulled it from the ground and bound it in such bundles as the one I saw in that barn. They then beat out the seeds and spread the bundles in parallel rows in a field. After several weeks, when wind and rain had decomposed the stalks, the flax was again brought to the barn. In later winter the dried stalks were broken into fragments, leaving whole the fibres of the cuticle. Those fibres were then cleaned by a process called “swingling”, twisted up in small handfuls and taken into the house. The next process was ca I I ed “buck ling”, by wh i ch the “ha i r J” or long fib res we re separated from the “tow” or short fibres. The long fibres were then put on the distaff and spun on a foot-whee I. Th is formed the warp, wh i Ie the tow formed the woof. Put th us into the loom, the result was linen cloth. Sometimes it was mixed with wool, gi vi ng ri se to the Term linsey-woolsey.
Gowns, as women’s dresses were then called, being usually open in front, over several enveloping petticoats, were easi Iy thrown over the head as hoods in cold or rain. Only the plainest of vegetable dyes could be obtained, but those ingenious seamstresses of the pioneer cabins worked wonders with their linsey-woolsey.
And with that Tribute to our great-grandmother dressmakers, we must say good night for old Times’ sake.
Year: 1956