Radio Script #989

Little Talks on Common Things
November 25, 1973

You have heard me say often on this program that in colonial times the title of a settler to his lot of land where he had confidently built his cabin and laboriously cleared land for a crop was likely to be precarious. One could seldom be sure that the person who deeded the settler his lot had any right to it at all. The trouble lay far back in time and far away in space.

Both the British kings and their subjects to whom they granted vast acreage in America, three thousand miles across the sea, were never careful to define the territory. As a result the same lands were granted to different individuals and different companies in England, not only by different kings, but sometimes divers.

A good example of this confusion over ownership of Maine lands came to light early in the 19th century, nearly 300 years after the first grant of lands in this part of North America. Bitter dispute had arisen over land titles held in the towns of Bristol, Edgecomb, Newcastle, Nobleboro, and Boothbay. That area included some of the earliest settlements in Maine, those on the Pemaquid Peninsula made early in the 17th century.

The Massachusetts legislature appointed a commission to investigate the conflicting claims to those lands, and the commissioner’s report was made in October 1811, that is, 162 years ago. More than a century and a half has now elapsed since those claims were formally settled in 1811, but it is worth noting that an even longer time, almost two full centuries had already passed between the original grants and the report of the commission.

Certain Boston interests claimed that the present settlers and claimants did not have valid title, because they, the Boston claimants, derived their title from a patent granted by the Council for New England in London, in the year 1631, to two men, Robert Aldsworth and Gyles Elbridge of Bristol, England, for the grant of which those two agreed to transport, at their own expense persons to New England and there build a town and settle inhabitants.

The grant conveyed to Aldsworth and Elbridge 12,000 acres for themselves, and an additional 100 acres for each settler they secured. The land was located in the area now within the boundaries of the towns near Pemaquid that I named a few minutes ago. On this patent document was the endorsement: “The possession of all lands contained in this patent was delivered by me, Walter Neal, to Abraham Shurte, agent of Aldsworth and Elbridge, on May 27, 1633.”

The area was defined as “from the head of the Damariscotta River to the head of the Muscongus, and between that line and the sea.”

When Aldsworth died, Gyles Elbridge became sole proprietor of the patent. Because of the early death of Gyles’ oldest son, the property descended to the second son, Thomas Elbridge, and it was from him that the Boston claimants held their right to the land. The Boston men traced their title as follows: In 1651 Thomas Elbridge, the second son of Gyles, conveyed 1/2 interest in the patent to Paul White, and in 1657 , White sold in equal parts to two other men, one of whom, Nicholas Davison, eventually got all of the White share. At that time Davison resided in Charlestown, Mass., Davison’s share descended to his granddaughter, who married Shem Drowne, and the Boston claimants contended they had legally purchased the land from the heirs of Drowne in 1735.

The commission reported that they could find no evidence that any of the interested parties had physical possession of every part of the patent between 1657, when it was conveyed to Paul White, and 1737, when Shem Drowne first took personal possession and built his own house on part of the land. Drowne at this time employed John North to survey the patent. By a plan drawn by North in 1741, the land was laid out in lots, distributed among the proprietors, and a division deed was executed among them on October 5, 1652, for the whole territory from the line between the two rivers down to the sea. But it turned out that North’s survey included nearly 80,000 acres, which would mean as many as 680 of the promised 100 acre lots in addition to the 12,000 acres granted outright to Aldsworth and Elbridge in 1631. The commission could find no evidence that Aldsworth and Elbridge had ever transported any settlers, as the original patent required them to do, nor could any deed of confirmation by the Council for New England to them be located, and such a deed should have been issued within seven years after 1631, if the patent was to be validated.

The commission concluded that the courts must decide whether subsequent sale of the patent was valid on the part of the heirs of the original patentee without such a validating document, especially to persons who were not actual tenants on the land. The commission said the court might decide that by such sale the lands were forfeited to what had since the Revolution become the Commonwealth of Massachusetts. On the contrary, the court decision might be that the act of Mass. Legislature in 1774, legalizing the regular proceedings of the Pemaquid Company in confirmation of the original patent rights, gave the claimants of the Drowne’s deed valid title.

But there were strong contesting claims that had nothing to do with the grant from England. Those claims rested on deeds secured from Indian chiefs, variously in 1661, 1662 and 1674 by a man named Walter Phillips. Phillips sold to a man named Tappen in Newbury, Mass. When Phillips secured the deeds from the Indians, he actually lived on part of the land and had improved his lot for several years. In 1720 several persons became tenants of Tappen on the land.

There was also an even earlier claim – the famous Brown deed of 1625, supposedly the first deed of land in Maine. From an Indian chief, John Brown of New Harbor bought a tract, beginning at Pemaquid Falls and running to the head of New Harbor, thence to the south end of Muscongus Island, and 25 miles into the country. The opposing claimants to the English title derived their title from John Brown, who, when his deed was executed in 1625, lived at New Harbor, clearly within the boundaries described in the deed, and he remained there until his death in 1660. Before that occurred, he had deeded about 1/3 of his original purchase to Alexander and Margaret Gould. This third was a tract about 8 miles square right in the middle of Brown’s huge acreage.

In 1720, the Gould’s son-in-law,William Stillin was living in the old Gould cabin when he was killed by the Indians. In 1763 the 8 mile square was claimed by James Noble and James Vaughn, both of whom had cleared farms on the land.

The commission found the case complicated by certain colonial actions. In 1633 each of the two existing New England colonies, the one at New Plymouth and the one at Massachusetts Bay,passed acts forbidding all persons from purchasing land from the Indians without approval of the general court, but those acts were not passed until eight years after Brown’s Pemaquid deed. In 1697 the Provincial Legislature of Mass. made the ban against such purchase even tighter. They decreed that no person pretending title to any lands purchased of the Indians should have any valid title to such lands without confirmation by the provincial legislature.

The commission refused to exercise any authority over that phase of the case. They declared: “Whether the act of 1697 was intended to bar all claim under Indian deeds over the whole Province of Maine, or only as far as the Sagadahoc, belongs not to us, but to the courts to decide.” The Sagadahoc referred to was the old name for the lower part of the Kennebec River from Merrymeeting Bay to the ocean.

The report continued: “The commission finds the entire case so confusing that it recommends the legislature require all claimants to surrender their titles to the Commonwealth and submit to a new board of commissioners whether any of them are entitled to any part of the lands, and if so, to receive compensation in unlocated lands in the District of Maine belonging to the Commonwealth. ”

In general that plan was adopted, but it turned out that several of the persons living on the land in 1811 were eventually left on their farms there, with sound deeds confirmed by the legislature of Massachusetts, and did not have to vacate those farms for new lots in the then vast unorganized territory of Maine.

So, to this day, the land titles on the Pemaquid peninsula and in adjacent towns, derive neither from the English crown nor from Indian chiefs, but from confirmation by the Mass. Legislature after 1811.

It has been a long, complicated story – that dispute about who owned land between the Damariscotta and Muscongus Rivers. I have told it to you in what may have been tedious detail, in order that you may understand what early settlers in Maine were up against to get firm title to their homes.

Now, as we close this broadcast, we have time for a bit about merchants who dominated Waterville’s Main Street 70 years ago in 1903. George Dorr and George Daviau were the leading druggists, both H. L. Kelley and S. L. Berry sold artists’ supplies. Augustus Otten and M. T. Colby were bakers. The street had four banks: Ticonic, Peoples, Merchants, and Waterville Savings. Bicycles were so popular that four places sold them. So many men liked to play pool and billiards that there were five parlors, one of which was at the Bay View Hotel, another at the Elmwood.

Not wholly on Main Street, but near by were seven blacksmiths, the best remembered of whom was John Davison. The city had seven shoe stores, of which well remembered are those of Mark Gallert and Pacy Loud. There were three carriage dealers and three harness makers. The well known Emma Lovering sold hair goods. Three shops dispensed fish and oysters. On Main Street alone were five grocers, with twelve others scattered about town. F. S. Brown combined the trades of gunsmith and locksmith. There were 3 barbers, including the long remembered Victor Pomerleau. Ten merchants dealt in dry goods, including Herbert Emery and the Wardwell Brothers, as well as L. H. Soper and the Clukey Libby Co. Principal dealers in men’s clothings were Perham Heald, H. R. Dunham and William Levine.

In 1903 Waterville had 23 dressmakers, of whom are still remembered Mrs. Clarkin and Mrs. Springfield. F. A. Harriman was the principal jeweler. Charlie Tong’s chinese laundry competed with the Waterville Steam and the Waterville Hand laundries. Mrs. S. E. Percival was the best known of six milliners, and Sam Preble was taking pictures of every prominent citizen.

Forerunner of the later 5 and 10, J. G. Darrah operated a variety store, and Albert Taylor ran the nearest thing Waterville had to a pawn shop.

And with that reference to Waterville trade 70 years ago, we must say goodbye until next week.

Year: 1973