Radio Script #1132

Little Talks on Common Things
September 25, 1977

Recently brought to my attention was a newspaper clipping dated November 25, 1890 – 87 years ago. It is an announcement of the launching of the largest sailing vessel ever built in Maine. That ship was the Shenandoah, built in the yards of Arthur Sewall and Co. at a cost of $175,000. The Sewalls were, of course, the prominent Bath family to which belonged Maine’s governor Sumner Sewall.

Commenting on the size of the vessel, the 1890 newspaper said: “If Bunker Hill Monument were placed in the yard, its top would be even with the Shenandoah’s main mast. If Maine’s world record trotter Nelson could strike a 2:10 gait on the ship’s deck, it would take him 9 seconds to trot from bow to stern. Not only is this the largest craft of any kind built in Maine, she is the largest wooden sailing vessel in the entire world. Her keel is 290 feet long and 30 inches deep, made of oak. The deck beams are 14 inches square and there are three full decks.

“The spars are the heaviest ever made in Maine. The three forward lower masts are 90 feet long and 38 inches in diameter. Above them the upper masts rise another 56 feet. The lower yards extend 93 feet. The big ship will spread 11,000 yards of sail. In her mainsail alone are 850 yards, and when spread, that sail measures 185 feet across its widest area.

“Her accommodations are spacious. The cabin finished in quartered oak is 15 feet square, is furnished with a library, large desk, sofa, and an elegant French bedstead. Rooms for the four mates are of comparable size and elegance. There are bath and toilet rooms supplied with Pullman pumps and the latest appliances. Amidship is the messroom, the forward house has accommodations for the crew and the hospital. The ship will carry 38 men including the captain, 4 mates, cook, two stewards, engineer, carpenter, doctor and 27 seamen.

“The Shenandoah measures 325 feet in full length, 49 feet in width, 29 feet deep, with a registered tonnage of 3,260 tons. She will be commanded by Captain James Murphy, a master with 27 years experience. She is the last vessel built by the Sewalls, who began their operation in Bath in 1823.”

Many of our listeners have heard of Hiram Maxim, inventor of the machine guns but there are probably few who know that the same. Hiram Maxim was an early experimenter in aviation. He had made the gun in 1894, had moved to England and had there established the Maxim Nordenfelt Anmunition Company. There Maxim became interested in flight. In a newspaper account in 1902, the reporter wrote: “A short walk on the Maxim grounds brought us to an enormous wooden building with great sliding doors. When fully drawn back they form a screen for the flying machine as it emerges from the shed on lines of rail laid down nine feet apart, and extending three-quarters of a mile. However, the big doors are opened only on occasion of important experiments.”

The account continued, “Mr. Maxim believes that within two years flying by man will be an accomplished fact. Common it can never become, for its great cost puts it out of reach of ordinary mortals, but its value for military purposes cannot be overestimated. The whole system of modern warfare will be changed. Against it, the iron clad ship will have no adequate armor, and the strongest fortress cannot stand against the destructive power of its bombs. Whole cities can be devastated and rulers will be as vulnerable as the common soldier.”

The report gives no description of the machine, so we do not know whether it was an early experiment with heavier-than-air flying, or was a balloon-type dirigible. In any event, nothing practical came of it. It was the Wright brothers not Hiram Maxim, who made the first practical airplane.

We State of Mainers never cease to sing the praises of our state, but I assure you that is nothing new. Let me tell you what Senator William P. Frye had to say about Maine almost a century ago, in 1885.

Frye was speaking at the annual dinner of the New England Society of New York. Frye admitted Maine had some disadvantages, but he said, “There is a magnificent law of compensation. It is true that our winters are cold and our summers hot, but our homes are warm, our firesides dry, and we are thoughtful, active, home-loving men and women. It is true that our soil is hard and rocky, but it responds gratefully to hard work. Maine raises more wheat than all the rest of New England together. Last year we raised over three million bushels of potatoes – the prize crop of Maine. Indeed Maine is rugged and hilly. But every mountain has its fertile valley, and there are 5,000 streams seeking the sea, fed by 2,500 square miles of lakes. We admit the coast is rockbound, but every year more than 600 fishing vessels leave this coast, manned by 10,000 of the most skilled sailors. As for ships, the U.S. now has 373 ships engaged in foreign trade, and 253 of these were built in Maine.

“In Maine, we have one forest in the center on which you could locate the whole Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and there its people would have to hire guides to find their way out.”

The senator concluded: “Last summer I saw in a rural village a cradle in which a Maine mother rocked a U. S. senator, a cabinet officer, five members of the national House of Representatives, governors of four different states, two U. S. ambassadors, a major general of the U.S. Army, and a captain of the Navy.” In the statement Senator Frye of course referred to the famous Washburn brothers of Livermore, Maine.

Now here is a commission to an old-time road surveyor made in the Town of Winslow in 1825.
“To Clark Drummond, one of the, surveyors of the Town of Winslow.”

In the usually legally worded document, Drummond was authorized to collect $140 from the taxpayers lists, and to expend it on the highways of his district. As was then common, he was to let any of the taxpayers who desired to do so work out their tax by laboring on the roads at $1. 00 for a ten hour day. He was to allow ten cents an hour for a yoke of oxen, five cents for a scraper, 20 cents for a plough, and 25 cents a day for a cart. It is interesting to note that the allowance for use of a plough was twice that for a man.

The document defines Drummond’s area as “beginning on the road at the Vassalboro line, thence to Robert Ayer’s house, thence to the Ruth road near Hayden’s mill. You may permit James Drummond to work out his tax on his road leading to the river road.” The document was signed by H. Paine, D. Goodrich, and J. Jenkins. April 20, 1825.

Preserved at the Redington Museum is an interesting handwritten paper referring to Isaac Redington. It was not Isaac but his brother William, who lived in the house now known as the Redington Museum at 64 Silver Street in Waterville. Isaac lived in a fine house that he built on the street afterward named for him, Redington Street. Now let me tell you what this old document says.

“Isaac Redington, the youngest of nine children born to Asa and Polly Getchell Redington, was born in Waterville on March 13, 1803. After passing through the schools of his native town, he attended Bloomfield Academy in the west part of what is now Skowhegan. That school was then headed by a man called Preceptor Hall, a Scotsman and a classical scholar of wide reputation.

“In 1819 Isaac entered Waterville College. It was only the second year of instruction at the new institution, where Jeremiah Chaplin had held the first classes in 1818. In fact, when Isaac entered the college, none of the three brick buildings that long constituted the core of its facilities had been built. Just completed was a large wooden building called the President’s House, where Chaplin and his one assistant held classes and furnished rooms for a few students.”

It is possible the writer of the document was mistaken in the date of Isaac Redington’s entrance into college for the college records show that he was graduated in 1827, eight years after 1819. It is possible that he did not enter until 1823, but it is also possible that he stayed out of college some time between his entrance and his graduation. The writer is correct, however, in noting that Isaac was valedictorian of his class, which consisted of 14 men, just half of whom became lawyers. That fact is clear refutation of the oft-repeated statement that in its early years Colby turned out only ministers.

Isaac Redington became a prominent attorney, being considered one of the best legal minds in Maine. In 1831 he married Elizabeth, the daughter of Nathaniel Gilman, Waterville’s wealthiest merchant. They became the parents of four daughters. In 1842 Isaac was elected to the State Senate. After practicing for several years in Waterville, he moved to New York.

The writer went on to state: “Isaac Redington was a scholar of high attainment, fine literary discrimination, and was endowed with a genial sense of humor. Above all he was a confirmed optimist. He said all his life he never knew what it was to feel blue.”

Isaac Redington died on October 7, 1878, at the age of 75.

Let us close today’s broadcast with a subject I often refer to – the origin of words and familiar expressions. Everybody is familiar with the phrase, “Good old Siwash,” but no one knows of any place with that name, though it was indeed the name of a small Indian tribe, a very primitive people eking out a living on poor land. The prairie country knew the verb “to siwash” as equivalent of “to rough it.” Lumbermen also used it for the hardest, lowest paid, work in the woods. In 1904 George Fiske began in the Saturday Evening Post a series of stories about Good Old Siwash. When asked what college he thus designated, he replied, “It isn’t Michigan; it isn’t Kansas; it isn’t Knox or Tuskeegee. It’s just Siwash, a college where they rough it. I built it myself.”

Year: 1977