Radio Script #628

Little Talks on Common Things

November 15, 1964

A hundred years ago some of the national secret societies used to publish regular newspapers. Though the columns had much to say about the particular society, they also contained a lot of national and regional news.

Through the kindness of Mrs. Fred Page of Benton I obtained possession of a bound volume of one of those old papers, “The Odd Fellow”, which I have placed for permanent preservation in the rapidly growing treasure collection at the Waterville Public Library. This volume is more than a hundred years old, for it contains issues of the paper from July 1, 1846 through June 23, 1847. On the fly-leaf is written “H.G. Garcelon”. Mrs. Page tells me she has been unable to learn the identity of that man, who apparently once owned the volume. She can say only that she found it in the attic of her late father’s home when she cleaned up the place. It was in an old trunk. I have often said there are precious historical items still to be found in Kennebec attics. Here is an example of just such a find.

How vastly different were the finances of the federal government in that year of the Mexican War, 119 years ago. The whole cost of supporting our army in Mexican territory for the year 1846 figured at only $50 a month per man. To pay and supply our entire navy for the whole year cost only six million dollars.

On July 4, 1846 the Fourth of July orator in Boston was Daniel Webster. Of the occasion the Odd Fellow said: “Mr. Webster’s oration was a good one, full of plain, practical sentiments. For the evening fireworks a multitude collected on the Common. Some of the pieces were very beautiful. Many extra trains on all the railroads into Boston were filled to capacity.”

Running our government was a very modest operation at that time. For the fiscal year ending June 30, 1846 the national revenue from all sources was 29 million dollars; total expenses were 24 million, leaving a tidy surplus of 5 million. And that was accomplished despite the fact the nation was at war.

Because the Odd Fellow was published in Boston, it was to a large extent a New England newspaper and naturally contained many items about Maine. One such was from a correspondent who sent in an account of how the church in Appleton, Maine got its bell. This is what the writer had to say: “We spent the greater part of 1839 in the qUiet village of McLain’s Mills on the St. George’s river, and we then felt some inconvenience because there was no suitable place for public worship. We were therefore happy to learn that, soon after we left the place, a meeting house was erected.

“Determined to have a church bell, the local committee approached the great Boston merchant, Samuel Appleton, because the town had supposedly been named for his father, and it was known that Mr. Appleton could well afford such a gift.

“Mr. Appleton acknowledged the appeal, but replied that his father lived and died on a small farm at New Ipswich, New Hampshire, had never been in Maine, and had probably never heard of the town of Appleton. Samuel Appleton himself was one of the early settlers of Hope, Maine, then called Barrelstown, where he settled on a lot more than two miles from any other settlement. There he built a log house. To the committee Mr. Appleton wrote: ‘As I should be sorry to give a bell that might sound my own praises under false pretenses, I must respectfully decline to comply with your wishes.’

“The committee agreed that Mr. Appleton had good reason to refuse, but after all, they pointed out in another letter to the wealthy man, the town was named Appleton, and surely Mr. Appleton had the means to meet the request without sacrifice.

“Mr. Appleton then replied: ‘To this, your second appeal, I must reply that, through the kindness of Providence, I have indeed been blessed in pecuniary matters, and you are not mistaken in saying that I could make such a gift without much inconvenience. Therefore, if you will procure a suitable bell for your new meeting house and send me the bill, I will with great pleasure pay the amount. ‘”

So that is the way the Maine town of Appleton got its church bell. From the pages of the Odd Fellow we learn about early railroads. One issue said: “Since the completion of the splendid depot in Haymarket Square, the business of the Boston and Maine R.R. has increased rapidly. Some time since trains commenced running from Boston to Andover, leaving the Haymarket every weekday at 11 a.m. At first there were only half a dozen passengers, but the number increased so fast that a second passenger car has now been added, and the train has been continued on to Haverhill. We predict that in a few years trains will be leaving on this road every hour of the day.”

Postage stamps did not come into common, natural use until 1847, but for several years earlier they had narrower local use. In 1846, when the Congress was considering making general, thus requiring postage in advance, the Odd Fellow called its readers’ attention to the effects of the proposed law. It warned the folks that unless printed circulars were prepaid at prescribed rates, they would have to be paid for at letter rates, and unless a newspaper was mailed from the office of publication, it would cost two cents to get each copy through the mail. Then came this curious warning: “It is a crime to enclose in the same envelope letters to several persons.”

Probably there has never been a time when complaints have not been made about the franking privilege allotted to Congressmen, allowing them to use the mails free of charge. The Odd Fellow had something to say about that practice in 1846. Here is what it said: “Mr. Hamlin of Maine (that was Hannibal Hamlin, who 14 years later would be Vice-President of the United States) moved to abolish the franking privilege, but to such a monstrous stretch of economy our distinguished Congressmen could not be bought. That franking privilege is a wicked injustice. The people pay for postage on a newspaper an amount double the cost of the paper, while Congressmen clutter up the mails with their own goods and chattels free of charge. How long will those who earn only a dollar a day see this privilege abused by those who get $8 a day out of the public till?”

The Odd Fellow had plenty of references to the demon rum. One item said: “In Maine a poor drunkard died from delerium tremens, and four rum sellers were selected to be his pall bearers. We hope this custom will be adopted as a general rule on such important occasions.”

Rum was not the only evil attacked in 1846. Among the targets fired upon by the clergy were the bowling alleys. The Odd Fellow said: “One of our most respectable citizens recently informed us that the ruin of three young men could be distinctly traced to the first bowling alley erected in Boston. Intoxicating drinks are repeatedly found in the place. We surely trust that, if any of our young ladies have been lured into this new amusement, their sense of propriety will restrain them from any such mistake in the future.”

In 1846 the Odd Fellow did not favor slavery, but it had little use for extreme abolitionists. In an editorial on October 7, 1846 it said: “Abolitionists are too much in the habit of confining their comments to the physical condition of the slave and the crime of the slaveholder. We have heard a man, who in most things is respectable, say that every slaveholder ought to be hung. It can do no lasting good to misrepresent the physical condition of the slave. He has animal comforts for which thousands of poor whites pine in vain. The true target of the abolitionist should be the moral evil of this detestable institution and there indeed is argument enough. We cannot estimate how hearts have been hardened and consciences seared among Southern whites by the holding of human beings in bondage. Nor is it possible to say how many bad habits and superstitions among Southern people are due to their constant association with the household Negroes, who are ignorant, sensual, and altogether low in their intellects. Here is the crux of slavery’s offense. By his very condition the slave is reduced to the level of the beasts. All ambition died out of his race generations ago. He has no desire for knowledge. no aspirations, no hopes for the future. He lives in a state of apathy. His immortal soul is shrunk. almost extinguished within him. Slavery surely cannot endure in the presence of a pure and spiritual God.”

When I was a boy the theater we were all urged to shun as a very den of iniquity was the Old Howard in Boston. It was 1846 when that famous theater was opened and that was nearly half a century before I was born, and long before the place had degenerated into an unrespectable burlesque house. In October 1846 an issue of the Odd Fellow said: “This new and beautifully constructed place of entertainment was opened to the public last week. The house is built to afford a good view of the stage from any seat and the acoustics are excellent. The decorations are neat and the lights are well arranged. Mlle. Blange, a celebrated danseuse, commenced an engagement there on Monday evening amid loud applause. We understand that Mr. Forest will appear next week. to be followed by Mr. and Mrs. Kean.”

From that report it is evident that. in its early days. the Old Howard welcomed to its stage the leading actors and actresses of the time.

From the columns of the Odd Fellow we learn that 1847 was the year when active interest was stirred to get a railroad between Bath and Lewiston. The paper announced that the lodge of Odd Fellows at Bath had been asked to subscribe for $500 of stock just as soon as a charter could be obtained.

In one issue of the Odd Fellow we find comment on a Waterville newspaper. Between 1823 and 1847 this town had seen six newspapers born and die. They were successively the Waterville Intelligencer in 1823, the Watchman in 1828, the Times in 1831. the Waterville Journal in 1833, the North American Galaxy in 1834 and the Watervillonian in 1841. The last named was published by William Mathews who was later to become a famous author whose books were translated into several European languages.

The Journal was a small sheet, printed on an old press that Mathews had bought for $12 from Waterville College. In 1842 Mathews bought a new press, enlarged the paper, and gave it a new name, the Yankee Blade. The paper was published at the southwest corner of Main and Silver Streets, in a large two-story building, where William Mathews also kept a stationery store. In 1843 the paper was moved to Gardiner, and in 1847 Mathews took it to Boston, where he personally became a resident. The paper had just set up business in Boston when the Odd Fellow published the following comment: “If the Yankee Blade does not flourish, it will not be because of indolence of the editor. Mathews is so completely absorbed in his sanctum duties that he does not find time to call on his old friends. We have not seen his good-natured profile more than twice since he came here. Don’t give them more than their money’s worth, Billy!”

Year: 1964