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                               CAMPOBELLO

                   *       *       *       *       *

                          AN HISTORICAL SKETCH

                                   BY

                           KATE GANNETT WELLS




     For those who are desirous of exact knowledge concerning the "Story
of the Boundary Line," and the political history of Eastport and its
vicinity, there is no more comprehensive work than that by William Henry
Kilby, Esq., entitled, "Eastport and Passamaquoddy." To him, and also to
two friends who kindly gave me the names of a few of the Island flowers,
do I express my gratitude.




                              Campobello.


THE mysterious charms of ancestry and yellow parchment, of petitions to
the admiralty and royal grants of land, of wild scenery and feudal
loyalty, of rough living and knightly etiquette, have long clustered
round a little island off the coast of Maine, called on the charts
Passamaquoddy Outer Island, but better known under the more pleasing
name of Campobello.

=Its Discovery.= It belongs to the region first discovered by the
French, who, under Sieur De Monts, in the spring of 1604, sailed along
the shores of Nova Scotia, and gave the name of Isle of Margos (magpies)
to the four perilous islands now called The Wolves; beheld Manthane (now
Grand Manan); sailed up the St. Croix; and established themselves on one
of its islands, which they called the Isle of St. Croix. The severity of
the winter drove them in the following summer to Annapolis, and for more
than a hundred and fifty years little was known of this part of the
country, though the River St. Croix first formed the boundary between
Acadia and New England, and later the boundary between the Provinces of
Nova Scotia and Massachusetts Bay.

Campobello itself could scarcely be said to have a history till towards
the end of the eighteenth century. Moose roamed over the swamps and
looked down from the bold headlands; Indians crossed from the mainland
and shot them; straggling Frenchmen, dressing in skins, built huts along
the northern and southern shores, till civilization dawned through the
squatter sovereignty of two men, Hunt and Flagg. They planted the apple
trees whose gnarled branches still remain to tell of the winter storms
that howled across the plains, and converted the moose-yards into a
field of oats, for the wary, frightened animals vacated their hereditary
land in favor of these usurpers. Their mercantile skill taught them how
to use, for purposes of trade rather than for private consumption, the
shoals of fish which it was firmly believed Providence sent into the
bay.

=Post Office.= There were not enough inhabitants to justify the
maintenance of a post office till 1795; then the mails came once in two
weeks. Lewis Frederic Delesdernier was the resonant, high sounding name
of the first postmaster who lived at Flagg's Point (the Narrows). But
when a post office was opened in Eastport, in 1805, this little Island
one was abandoned, or rather it dwindled out of existence before the
larger one established by Admiral Owen at Welsh Pool.

=Welsh Pool.= The Narrows, because of its close proximity to the
mainland, was a favorite place of abode in those early days. Yet Friar's
Bay, two miles to the north, was a safe place for boats in easterly
storms; and thus, before the advent of the Owens, a hamlet had clustered
around what is now called Welsh Pool. A Mr. Curry was the pioneer. The
house opposite the upper entrance to the Owen domain was called Curry
House until it became "the parsonage," a name abandoned when the present
rectory was built. Curry traded with the West Indies, and owned, it is
said, two brigs and a bark.

People also gathered at the upper end of the Island, Wilson's Beach, and
on the road between Sarawac and Conroy's Bridge, where there were
several log houses.

=Garrison's Grandparents.= That some kind of a magistrate or minister
even then was on the Island is attested by the fact that William Lloyd
Garrison's grandparents, Andrew Lloyd and Mary Lawless, chanced to come
to Nova Scotia on the same ship from Ireland, and were married to each
other "the day after they had landed at Campobello, March 30, 1771."
Lloyd became a commissioned pilot at Quoddy, and died in 1813. His wife
was the first person buried in Deer Island. Their daughter Fanny was
Garrison's mother.

Many of the early inhabitants were Tories from New York. Some were of
Scotch origin, especially those who lived on the North Road.

=Captain Storrow.= Among these settlers was a young British officer,
Captain Thomas Storrow, who, while he was prisoner of war, fell in love
with Ann Appleton, a young girl of Portsmouth, N.H. In vain did her
family object, "British officers being less popular then than now; but
young love prevailed," and the marriage, which took place in 1777, "was
a happy one." Captain Storrow took his bride to England; but after a
while sailed for Halifax, where they remained "nearly two years." In
1785 they went to St. Andrews. Through the courtesy of their grandson,
Colonel Thomas Wentworth Higginson, the following extract is given from
a manuscript sketch of the life of Mrs. Storrow, prepared by her niece,
Mrs. Norman Williams:--

=False Sale.= "Soon after this (1785) they removed to Campobello, which
had been purchased by Mr. Butler and Captain Storrow. There were two
houses on the Island, one for each family, and here they lived very
happily and pleasantly. There was always a garrison at St. Andrews, and
a ship of war stationed near Campobello; so Captain Storrow had
congenial society, and they had many pleasant lady friends, and, as
their hospitality was unbounded, they were seldom without company at one
or the other of the houses.... All was bright and prosperous. But a
change came. In 1790 or 1791 the Butlers and Captain Storrow had gone to
Halifax on business, and Mrs. Storrow was left alone with her children
on the Island, when a notice was served to her that she must quit the
Island immediately, as it had been sold to them under a false title, and
the real owner had come to take possession. The Island had been granted
by William Pitt to his former tutor, David Owen, a hard man who would
not move from the position he had taken. Mrs. Storrow sent to my father,
who was her husband's lawyer, and he, with some other gentlemen,
chartered a sloop and brought the family to St. Andrews, where a house
was already prepared for them. Here they remained a year or more. But
Capt. Storrow's finances were so crippled by the loss of Campobello that
he and his family sailed for Jamaica, where he had a small estate."

=William Owen.= David Owen, to whom this manuscript referred, was a
cousin of William Owen, through whom the Island became connected by
royal gift and by romance with the fortunes of his immediate
descendants. As naval officer William Owen had been "in all the service
and enterprise where ships, boats, and seamen were employed," had
labored at Bengal for the re-establishment of the affairs of the East
India Company, and had fought under Clive. At the blockade of
Pondicherry he lost his right arm, and the Sunderland, to which he
belonged, having foundered, he was ordered to England. Broken in spirit
and weak in body, the copy of what was presumably his memorial to the
Admiralty in 1761 has a piteous sound. It begins:--

=His Petition.= "My Lord, permit me, with the most profound respect, to
lay by your Lordship a true State of my past service, with the accidents
that happened to me during the same, praying your Lordship not to judge
hard of me, in being reduced to the disagreeable necessity of doing that
myself which would appear in a much more favorable light were any of my
Friends in Town who could take the Liberty of Introducing me to your
Lordship." After recounting the services he rendered, and the injuries
he received, he ends with these words: "I beg you will be pleased to
represent to the Right Honorable the Lords of the Admiralty that I am
the person mentioned in Admiral Steuen's [the spelling is illegible]
Letter to have lost my Right Arm, when I had the Honor of Commanding one
of the Divisions of Boats ordered by him to cut out the Two French
Ships, La Baline and Hermione, from under the Guns of Pondicherry, on
the 7th of October last, and that I had been wounded before in that
country with a Musket Ball, which lodged in my Body above three years
and a half. My long service in the East Indies, together with the Wounds
I received, having greatly impaired my health, lays me under a necessity
to be the more urgent with you on this occasion, that I may the sooner
go into the Country to endeavor to re-establish the same, as well as to
see my Friends, from whom I have been above nine years absent. Let me,
therefore, Sir, entreat you to move their Lordships in my behalf, humbly
praying that they will be pleased to direct something to be done for me,
either by Gratuity, Pension, or Preferment, such as their Lordships may
deem me to deserve."

=Sir William Campbell.= In November of the same year he writes to Lord
William Campbell: "I arrived in London above four months ago. After long
attendance and great solicitations, I am at length put off with a
pitiful Pension, with which I am going to retire into the Country among
my Relations for the remainder of my days, unless somewhat unexpected
happens to enable me to obtain the promotion I think I have a right
to.... I have spent a great deal of money in Town, have no Fortune, and
want a sum soon on a very urgent Occasion.... I hope, notwithstanding
the disparity between us in point of Rank and Fortune, that your
Lordship will honor me with a Continuance of the Friendship and Regard
which I had reason to imagine subsisted between us during the five years
we Messed together."

This beseeching letter must have been effectual; for in course of time
he did receive, not only thanks and promise of promotion, but through
the intercession of his friend, Sir William Campbell, who was Governor
General of Nova Scotia, he obtained possession of the Island which Hunt
and Flagg had ruled.

=Royal Grant.= As it embraced more land than could then be granted to
one person, Owen induced others to join him in asking for the grant,
that the whole Island might eventually be under control of the Owen
family.

=Origin of Name.= Consequently, in 1767, the Island was deeded to
William Owen and his cousins, Arthur Davies, David and William Owen,
Jr., who, in grateful compliment to Campbell, changed its name from
Passamaquoddy Outer Island to Campobello, thus "punning on the donor's
name, and also expressing the beauty of the natural scenery." It was
like the Admiral to invent a name which should include both a joke and a
subtle allusion to his classical learning.

=First Colony.= William Owen immediately brought over from the mother
country a colony of seventy persons; stationed his ship at Havre De
Lute, a Franco-Indian corruption of Harbor of the Otter; and, having
settled his people according to his liking, returned to England; but
soon left it again on public service, and died with the rank of Admiral.

=David Owen.= David Owen acted as agent for the grantees, and was a
veritable lord of the Island, always interested in protecting the
fisheries. His house, near the site of the cottage now owned by James
Roosevelt, Esq., had even more roof than the usual sloping, barn-like
home of former days. He built a rude church, read the service, and
preached. What matter if the sermon was oft repeated, or now and then
was original! Could not he, though a layman, best tell the needs of his
congregation? He played the fiddle for dances, married the people,
scolded them as a self-constituted judge, and kept a journal of Island
events in microscopic chirography. He was an occasional correspondent of
the "Eastport Sentinel" on matters of British history and theological
controversy. "He had a fine library of old books, and was well versed in
scholastic subjects," said Dr. Andrew Bigelow, the first Unitarian
minister of Eastport, who often visited him.

=To "Hue and Cry."= Once David Owen committed to the gaol in St. Andrews
a Frenchman, for "feloniously taking and carrying away some fish from
flakes at Campobello." As the offender went on his way to gaol in his
own vessel, he threw overboard the deputy sheriff who accompanied him,
drew his dirk on the other man and compelled him to follow, and then
escaped himself with his own vessel. Therefore, Owen advertised in the
"Sentinel" of September 25, 1819, "To all officers and others to whom
the execution hereof may belong ... to search for the said Appleby [the
Frenchman], and therefore to '_hue_ and _cry_' after him as the law
directs." Signed "D. Owen, J.P."

When David died he left his share of the land to William Owen, Jr. This
younger Owen sold Campobello, which had now come into his sole
possession, to William Fitz-William, who, as the natural son of the Owen
of Pondicherry fame, could obtain possession only through purchase of
his father's grant.

=Primitive Life.= Island life was still very primitive. The people
raised stock, and the creatures fed on the wild grass and young hemlock.
But, as David had freely deeded the land to the settlers, the underbrush
was soon killed off and stock raising ceased. The Campobellians also
proved no exception to the rule that agriculture is seldom a favorite
occupation with those who can support themselves by the precarious life
of fishermen, even if that has its perils.

=Illness.= Here, too, as everywhere in pioneer life, the women suffered
as much as, if not more than, the men. When sickness came upon them they
endured it patiently, with that kind of meek despair which looks upon
illness either as fate or as the will of the Lord. Fortunately for them,
a young girl, who had been born on the Island, became at sixteen a
skilful nurse. She was sought from far and near, and taken out at night
when she had to be blindfolded on account of the storms. The description
of one of her visits must be given in her own words, as she told it when
she was eighty-four:--

=The Indian's Squaw.= "Once I and my husband were abed a howling night,
and I heard a knock. Says I, 'Jim, I bet that's for me; get up and see.'
And I sorter guessed it was a foreigner. And he came back and says, 'P.
(that's what he called me, short for Parker), it's an Indian from down
on the Narrows; and he's been for the doctor, and he's down at Robinson,
and won't be fetched 'cause he's having a good time.' So I got up and
dressed and went down with him; for the squaw's skin was as dear to her
husband as a white woman's is to her, and her heart may be just as good
to God. And when I got there I saw two squaws, and one was all in a
heap; and they made eyes at me, and I didn't know whether it meant
murder or not, only I guessed not. And I says, 'Sister, what is it?' And
she says, her husband tell her 'white doctor no come. You white woman
come and make his squaw live.' So I went to work. And when all was
right, they wanted me to take a blanket and lie down; but I could no way
make believe Indian, so I sits up till morning. Then the Indian asked me
what he should give me; and I told him my gineral price was three
dollars, but when folks was no better off than I, I turned in and asked
nothin'. And he says, 'We give five dollars if it's a girl, and three
dollars if it's a boy.' 'Well,' I says, 'sure enough it's a boy'; and I
come home. And next day he travels down here [to the Pool], and says me
better than man doctor, and wished he could give me twenty dollars."

Some sixty years after this incident had occurred, when Mrs. Parker was
driven up to the Narrows where the squaw had lived, and past the
Tyn-Y-Coed and cottages, that she might see the changes which time had
wrought, she exclaimed, "As the Bible says, now I can die in peace, for
mine eyes have seen the salvation, I will not say of the Lord, but of
Campobello."

=The Admiral.= The salvation, such as it was, came slowly; at first
through Admiral William Fitz-William Owen. His life was curious and
pathetic, from the time when a boy five years old, an inmate of the
artillery barracks, he replied, on being asked his last name, "I don't
know, mother can tell you," to his old age, when, dressed in admiral's
uniform, he paced back and forth on a plank walk, built out into the
bay, over the high cliffs of the shore, in memory of the quarter deck of
his beloved ship. Conceited and religious, authoritative and generous,
humorous and ceremonious, disputatious and frank, a lover of women more
than of wine, his fame still lingers in many a name and tradition.

=His Growth.= When very young, a friend of his father's took him away
from the barracks and from his mother, of whom he never again heard. He
was boarded and punished in various homes in North Wales, but as
recompense wore a cocked hat and a suit of scarlet made from an old coat
of his father,--"the first sensible mark of the earthly pre-existence of
some one who claimed to be my father" he had ever received, wrote the
Admiral, in his later days. He learned the catechism and collects,
repeated the Lord's prayer on his knees, and thought of raising the
devil by saying it backwards; but he never completed the charm, and for
four or five years after was self-punished by his fear that the devil
was waiting for him at the church door.

By degrees he learned something of his father, the William Owen of
Pondicherry fame, who had died while he was a baby. When about fourteen
he went to a mathematical academy, where his "progress was as remarkable
as it had before been in classics." Here religious instruction consisted
in going to church "to talk with our fingers to the girls of a school
who used the adjoining pew." As a boy, he "had no other distinct idea of
our Lord Jesus Christ than that he was a good man."

=His Dreams.= His belief in the direct interposition of the Creator on
his behalf frequently solaced him in these youthful days of loneliness
and misdemeanor. The literal and instant fulfillment of two dreams on
special and unthought-of subjects were convincing proof, to quote his
own words, that "they were sent by God Almighty himself, as a simple way
of assuring me that as I was under his eye he would himself take care of
me."

=Man-of-War Garden.= So he grew up to be presumptuous, adventurous,
resolute, and strong. In 1788 he became a midshipman in a line-of-battle
ship, in due course of time cruising in the Bay of Fundy. For three
years his man-of-war was stationed at Campobello. The crew often went
ashore in summer, tending a little garden at Havre de Lutre (Harbor of
the Otter), called Man-of-War Garden, which in turn gave its name to the
headland. The garden was brilliant with dahlias and marigolds, which
were presented in overweighted bouquets to the few Island belles, who,
in return for such unexpected courtesies, consented in winter to dance
on the ship's deck, regardless of their frozen ear-tips. Two of the
midshipmen were as dauntless in pedestrianism as in love, and for a
wager started on a perilous walk around icy cliffs which threw them
headlong. Their comrades buried them under the gay flowers, and sailed
away from the henceforth ill-omened garden. And the little store near
by, kept by one Butler, lost its customers and passed into tradition.

=The Boy as Midshipman.= With Owen's entrance into the naval service as
boy officer "commenced," he wrote in later years, "a public life which
may be said to have had no sensible intermission until the close of
1831, or forty-three years, during which I have served under every naval
man of renown, and was honored by the friendship of Nelson. From the
year 1797 I have held commands and been entrusted with some important
service, for the most part in remote parts of the world. My character,
if I may be allowed to draw it myself, contained much of good and bad.
The latter, perhaps, I contrived to veil sufficiently not to mar my
reputation; but, by the grace of God, he has not left me without his
spirit of self-conviction.... At forty-four I married [a Miss Evans, of
Welsh extraction]. I thought myself a tolerably religious man, but knew
myself to be as Reuben, unstable as water. At fifty-seven my worldly
ambition was barred by corruption in high places. At sixty-one I became
the 'Hermit.'"

=His Settlement at Campobello.= "The Quoddy Hermit,"--this was the name
he chose when, with the rank of admiral, he came back to Campobello to
live. He brought with him building material and the frame of a house
taken from Rice's Island, and erected his habitation where is now the
Owen. In the grove at the northern end of the present hotel he planted
two or three English oaks. He placed the sun dial of his vessel in the
garden fronting his house, and put a section of his beloved quarter deck
close to the shore, not far from the seedling oaks. There, pacing up and
down in uniform, he lived over again the days of his attack upon the
Spanish pirate. Proud as he was of the two cannon he then captured,
there is no one living to tell who bled or who swore, or whether the
Spanish galleon sank or paid ransom. He placed the cannon on the Point,
where they bid defiance to American fishing boats. In later years one
was taken to Flagstaff Hill whenever a salute was to be given in honor
of the Queen's birthday, or a fish fair, for such fairs were famous.

=Weddings.= The population of the Island increased, and the old man
married the boys and girls at church or at home, slowly or hastily, as
his humor bade him, always claiming the first kiss of the bride. A
certain sailor who had wooed a Campobello maiden was determined that
this privilege should not be allowed by her, and therefore tried to
salute his bride before the service was ended. "You are not married yet.
Back!" shouted the Admiral. Frightened, the sailor-groom turned his face
and his feet toward the minister-magistrate, who more and more slowly
repeated the words of the service, as he approached nearer to the lady,
till, with the last word, he snatched the first kiss. His most princely
gift as a wedding present is said to have been the Island of Pope's
Folly, a present conditioned on his performance of the marriage service,
which was gladly granted by the bride.

He widened the narrow roads along the bay, which David had broken out,
and in his heavy, lumbering coach of state went through snow and mud
from one tenant to another. The coach is still to be seen, and the
tenants' grandchildren bear the Owen surname as the universal Christian
cognomen. The Admiral would often stroll down to Whale-Boat Cove,--so
called from a large kind of row-boat used in the herring
fisheries,--which he persuaded the men to call Welsh Pool. Many a little
maiden counted her pennies by the Admiral's kisses, and many a poor
fisherman blessed him for allowing the house rent to run on from year to
year, though the Admiral invariably insisted on the rental from the
weirs; he well knew which was the more profitable.

=Family Life.= On other days he stayed at home and amused himself with
his books. At four o'clock the husband and wife dined with the family
and the frequent guests. The dinner of four courses was served in silver
and gold lined dishes, with wines from Jersey and game from the
Provinces. Silver candelabras shone upon the table; damask and India
muslin curtains shaded the many paned windows; heavy mahogany and
rosewood chairs, sofas, and tables furnished the apartments; great logs
on tall andirons burned in monster fireplaces; sacred maps hung around
the evening parlor; and the dining-room carpet was said to have been a
gift from the King of Prussia. The long curved mahogany sofa, the carved
chairs, and other pieces of furniture are now owned by the Islanders.
The library table and arm chair, with sockets in its arms for candles,
the Admiral's hat, pistols, and picture are carefully treasured by "The
Company" as relics.

After the dinner of an hour came tea at seven and a family rubber till
nine; then Scripture reading and worship, when the ladies and servants
retired, leaving the Admiral and his gentlemen friends, fortified with
cigars, whiskey, and water, to relate naval stories and discuss
religious themes till two or three o'clock in the morning.

=Theology.= Owen's three chosen intimates were designated Academicus,
Rusticus, and Theophilus. His library, which they frequently consulted,
was a sad medley of dictionaries and the theology of Oxford divines.
Methodism and Romanism were alike hateful to the hermit Admiral, who, in
quoting from Holy Writ, always rendered "the wiles" as "the methodisms"
of the devil. Every week he read to his neighbors two lectures "from
unexceptionable sources, yet so modified as to contain all that was
expedient to explain of his peculiar opinions." Often he held church
service in what was almost a shanty, omitting from the liturgy
whatsoever he might chance to dislike on any special Sunday.

=Family Prayers.= The day began and ended with prayers, which all the
household servants attended, the "maids," as the Admiral called
them,--"for we are all servants of God,"--bringing their work and sewing
throughout the service, except when the prayer itself was said. If some
one occasionally was disinclined to such steady improvement of the
devotional hour, the Admiral, with a benevolent smile, inquired, "My
dear, do you feel lazy to-night?"

Breakfast was served at nine. After that, the Lady Owen, clad in an
enormous apron, entered the kitchen and taught the mysteries of salads
and jellies.

=Lady Owen.= Lady Owen was queen as he was king; and never did a lady
rule more gently over store-room and parlor, over Sunday-School and
sewing-school, fitting the dresses of her domestics or of the Island
children. She was a handsome woman, with silver hair and pink and white
complexion, who, like her daughters, wore long trains and low corsages.
Sometimes the mother wrapped herself in a certain gold and black scarf
with such a courtly grace that its remembrance has never faded. Great
was the jubilee among the domestics when a box arrived from England,
with fabulous dresses ready made.

Once a year the maids and men of the great house had a ball, the ladies
playing for them even all night. Twice in the twelve months occurred
house-cleaning, when a dress was given each busy worker. The servants
were often reminded to take no more than was necessary on their plates;
for economy, though not parsimony, was the rule of the house. Guests
came from the mainland and from every vessel of war. Admiral Owen and
his house were the fashion for many long years.

Nowhere on the coast of Maine has there been a more curious mingling of
rank, with its investiture of ceremony, and of simple folk-life, of
loyalty to the Queen and her representatives and of the American spirit
of personal independence.

=Theatricals.= All the people were familiar with the great family, while
the better part of them were bidden to theatrical performances, for
which the Admiral composed songs. It is doubtful whether he chose as
early hours for his amateur shows as did the theatre manager of New
Brunswick; for on the first occasion of a dramatic performance in that
Province, March 28, 1789, the doors were opened at half-past five and
the play began at half-past six o'clock.

Other merry-makings occurred on the Island, justified, perhaps, by the
occasional homage of gifts sent to the mother country; for the Admiral's
diary bears record that "three large, eleven middle, and fourteen small,
masts were hoisted on board a vessel, and sent as a tribute to England."
Then, whenever a roof-raising occurred, he knew how to send the children
home to look after the chores, that their elders might join in the
merriment.

=Smugglers' Cave.= The inhabitants themselves were rather enterprising
in business; for rum and lumber were exchangeable quantities with the
venturesome Campobello captains, who traded with the southern ports and
West Indies, and carried Nova Scotia grindstones to the States. Bolder,
but the quieter in action, were the smugglers, who, deep amid the woods,
near the only fresh-water pond of the Island, alternately came and
vanished. Much of their spare time was spent in digging for an iron
chest of Spanish doubloons, buried by ancient buccaneers. The Admiral
and his family often rode through the woods to watch the men in their
hopeless work, and to obtain their share of treasure-trove if ever it
were found. One bright morning every digger had fled, leaving a deep
excavation in the ground; but far down on its side, marked out by the
iron rust which had clung to the earth, the outlines of a chest were
visible. A cart track and the ruins of four or five huts are all that
now remain of the site of this mysterious activity. With the departure
of these smugglers disappeared the steady excitement of years, the
perpetual topic of conversation. Thereafter the people could only
question each other about the strange wreck whose rotting timbers were
old a century before. Its last remnants have now been carved into love
tokens.

Saddest were the days when the Admiral strode up and down his imaginary
quarter-deck, his empire a fishing settlement, where boys' wages had
once been three cents a day. Eastport still owned the islands around it.
The people brought in their fish, and sold it for groceries and other
articles at stores where it was credited to them. The little vessels
crossing the bay made it gay for the Admiral's eyes. But his spirit
sank, as he fancied that some boat might be drifting around an inlet,
with its owner frozen to the mast amid the supplies he was bringing to
his family, who were waiting in vain for the father to return; or as he
thought of the burden of this ever-increasing debit and credit system,
or of the perils of the smugglers.

Later, when the duties were taken off by the United States, smuggling
disappeared, and Campobello business went down. Could it ever have been
said to exist? A few persons possessed enough ready money to build the
picturesque weirs which fringe the Island with their stakes, driven
three or four feet apart, and ribboned together with small round poles.
The dried foliage and the dripping seaweed clinging to them give a
ghastly beauty to this living mausoleum of the herring.

=The Bank.= Remittances did not always come promptly from England, and
money was needed in the Island; so the Admiral set up his own bank, and
issued one-dollar certificates, surmounted by the crest and his motto,
"Flecti non Frangi." But somehow the time never came when he was called
upon "to pay one dollar on demand to the bearer at Welsh Pool," and the
certificates remain, to be utilized, perhaps, under a new epoch of good
will and foolish trust.

=Titles.= The Island must have had some law and order before the advent
of the Admiral, for the town records for the parish of Campobello date
from April 15, 1824, James M. Parker, town clerk. At the general session
of the peace, holden at St. Andrews, the shire town of Charlotte County,
New Brunswick, thirty-two officers were chosen for the small population
of Campobello. As in the old German principalities, every Welsh Pooler
must have craved a title. There were commissioners and surveyors of
highways, overseers of poor and of fisheries, assessors, trustees of
schools, inspectors of fish for home consumption and for exports, for
smoked herring and boxes. There were cullers of staves, fence-viewers
and hog-reeves, and surveyors of lumber and cordwood, lest that which
should properly be used for purposes of building or export be consumed
on andirons or in kitchen stoves.

=Paupers.= In those days there was no poorhouse; though town paupers
existed, for one, Peter Lion by name, was boarded about for one hundred
dollars, and furnished with suitable food, raiment, lodging, and medical
aid. No one kept him long at a time, whether it was because others
wanted the price paid for his support, or because he was an unwelcome
inmate, is unknown. Prices depend on supply; therefore, it happened that
the next pauper was boarded for fifty dollars. Again, a lower price for
board brought about a lower tax rate for the householders; and, in
course of time, another pauper was set up at public auction, and the
lowest bidder was entrusted with his care and maintenance.

By 1829 the exports from the Island justified the creation of harbor
masters and port wardens,--more titles to be coveted.

=Ferryman.= A ferry was established from Campobello to Indian Island and
Eastport. The ferryman was "recognized in the sum of two pounds, and was
conditioned to keep a good and sufficient boat, with sails and oars, to
carry all persons who required between the appointed places, to ask,
demand, and receive for each person so ferried one shilling and three
pence, and no more." If any other than the appointee should have the
hardihood to make a little money by transporting a weary traveller, such
persons should be fined ten shillings, half of it to go to the informer
and half to the ferryman, unless he had previously arranged with the
licensee that he would afford him due and righteous satisfaction for
each person so carried.

As the population grew, the swine began to abound, and soon it was
decreed that "neither swine nor boar-pig should go at large, unless
sufficiently ringed and yoked, sucking pigs excepted, on pain of five
shillings for each beast."

=Sheep.= Then the sheep began to jump fences four feet high,--and their
descendants have increased in agility. They ate the young cabbages, and
standing at ease, defiantly and lazily nipped off the dahlia buds. The
town bestirred itself. Angry housewives, roused from their sleep by
waking dreams of depredations committed, drove the sheep away with stock
and stone. The following night the fisher-husbands, back from their
business, sallied forth in vain; they could not run as fast as the
women. And week after week the sheep took all they wanted. It became
necessary finally to establish the sublime order of hog-reeves, who were
privileged to seize any swine or sheep going at large which were not
marked with the proper and duly entered mark of the owner, and to
prosecute as the law directs; all cattle being ordered to be at home by
eight o'clock in the evening. But how could sheep be marked when their
fleece forbade their being branded? As notable housekeepers vie with
each other in receipts, so did each Islander try to invent striking
deformities for his sheep; only the sucking lambs retained their
birthrights till their later days. Because Mulholland made two slits in
the right ear and took off its top, Parker cut off a piece from the left
ear of his sheep, and Bowers made a crop under the left ear of his
animal, close to its head. Yet the sheep ran loose until the people were
directed to raise twelve pounds for building two cattle pounds, and
William Fitz-William Owen, the Admiral, was appointed to erect the same.

The poor rates had again lessened,--woe to the pauper boarder,--for the
Admiral wanted money for many another improvement on which his mind was
bent. The General Sessions of the peace dared not neglect any suggestion
which was made by a man who entertained all the distinguished guests who
came to Passamaquoddy Bay; for his fame had spread far and wide as host,
theologian, and magnate.

=Geese.= If it were difficult to restrain sheep and swine, still more
difficult was it to prevent the trespasses of geese; though many a bird
was clipped in its infancy, and in winter killed and put down amid
layers of snow, and sent to the Admiral as a peace offering or as
tribute.

Still the public troubles increased; until it was ordered that horses
and cattle should be impounded. Then peace by midnight and safety by day
rested over the Island. For it was even resolved "that all dogs of six
months old and upward should be considered of sufficient age to pay the
tax"; but in what manner they were compelled to offer their own excuse
for being remains unsolved. Perhaps no legal quibble was ever raised
concerning the wording of the statute.

=Bridges.= Admiral Owen was not only the magistrate for animals, but a
builder of bridges, letting out the work "at the rate of $1.12-1/2 per
man per day, the day being ten hours of good and conscientious work for
man or yoke of oxen."

=Nomination Day.= Very graphic is an account of "Nomination Day," given
by Mr. William H. Kirby, in the "Eastport Sentinel" of June 10, 1885. On
the results of this day depended honors and duties. "Four members are to
be chosen. Among those put in nomination is the Honorable Captain
William Fitz-William Owen, of Campobello, representative of the Island
and champion of the fisheries.

A poll being demanded, the real contest is postponed to a late day;
starting at St. Andrews, and proceeding from parish to parish, gathering
the votes of each neighborhood, until at the end of a fortnight Indian
Island is reached, and the voters of West Isles and Campobello have
their turn. This affords a good opportunity for curious Eastporters to
look in upon the time-honored election processes of the British Empire.

The surroundings of the hustings are rude and characteristic. On a
platform made by spreading a plank on the top of fish hogsheads the
sheriff of the county has established himself, with his clerks, the
candidates and their representatives ranged along. As this is Captain
Owen's own precinct, special efforts have been made to bring up his
vote, which has somewhat lagged in other parishes; some of the free and
independent electors, arriving by the numerous boats which line the
beach, wear badges with the motto, "Owen Roads and Bridges," and there
are signs that open houses are kept somewhere in the neighborhood. With
staunch friends, the Captain has bitter opponents. For the purpose of
increasing the income from his Island, he had not long before
established a system of pasturage which included a small annual sum for
geese, and it is said that at St. Andrews the other day a goose was
borne aloft in derision of his candidacy.

Each candidate having urged his claims in an address, the polls are
opened and the voting begins. As the elector comes forward, he is asked
for whom he votes. The reply is, "Captain Owen,"--"Thank you, sir," from
Captain Owen; and the same from Mr. Hill, Mr. Brown, Mr. Boyd, Mr.
Clinch, or some other candidate, in response to a vote for either. And
the clerk enters the several votes upon his record. Each elector can
vote for four candidates. Sometimes he names but one; this is a plumper,
and elicits cheers. Sometimes a man is asked on what he votes, and
replies "Freehold by heir," or something else. I believe that under
certain conditions a man could vote in half a dozen counties if he had
property.

Closing here, the sheriff, candidates, and special friends adjourn to
St. Andrews for the final proceedings. Numbers of votes have been
withheld for effective use in the final struggle. Some of the candidates
are already so far ahead that their success is assured, and others are
hopelessly behind, while for one or more places two or three candidates
are separated by only narrow margins, and this affords opportunity for
trades and combinations which add zest to the last spasmodic efforts.
Captain Owen was not successful this time, though he was chosen at a
later campaign, and was afterwards promoted to a seat in Her Majesty's
Council for the Province."

=Wilson's Claim.= The Admiral's life was embittered by the obstinacy
with which some of the people refused to pay him allegiance. They were
the descendants of one Wilson, who, in David's time, had squatted at
Head Harbor, and had built across the end of the Island a bush fence,
which was considered to give the sanctity of a written deed to Wilson's
claim. David Owen contested the validity of custom, and a lawsuit
followed, which was decided in favor of the squatter. This decision was
very embarrassing to David, who feared that through its effect he might
lose possession of another neck of land. So he hastened home from the
court, outstripping his rival, and told a squatter who lived on a second
point of the Island that, as the verdict in the Head Harbor case had
been rendered in the Owen favor, he had better sell out at once, or else
the law would make him do so. This reasoning, though illogical, was
convincing; and the terrified fisherman is reported to have made a
lawful deed of his possessions to David for a round of pork, an old gun,
and two or three other articles. When Wilson arrived, belated by the
wind and tide, the fraud or joke was discovered; but, as no remedy was
found for it, the Owens ruled all the Island, except the peninsula which
David and his coheirs and successors always called "Wilson's
Encroachment." There Wilson and his followers established a thriving
settlement, whose prosperity was a constant grievance to the Admiral
when he came to live at Campobello. Neither flattery or bribery could
induce them to become his vassals. Years after, in the American Civil
War, when Captain Robinson, the Admiral's son-in-law, demanded that
rents should be paid in English money, Campobello was impoverished,
while the people at Wilson's Beach had no rent to pay.

=The Cannon.= The cannon still remained as sentinels, till some one on
board the brig Sam French, which was going to California for gold, stole
them and carried them round Cape Horn. When the brig reached San
Francisco it fired a salute; but as the Admiral had forewarned the
Southern authorities of the capture of his guns, the timely or untimely
salute betrayed their presence, and the guns were seized and returned to
Campobello. After the removal of the Owen family to England, one of the
guns, which had been bought from them by Mr. Best, an Island resident at
that time, was given by him to General Cleaves, who placed it on one of
the islands in Portland harbor, where two or three years ago it exploded
and was shattered to pieces. The other gun was bought by George Batson,
Esq., and was placed in his store on the Island, where it became an
object of wonder to all newcomers.

=Schools.= The official dignities of the Admiral increased with his
longer residence on Campobello. He was overseer of the poor, postmaster,
and school trustee. For a long period there were only private schools;
but about fifty years ago the first public or parish school was built
near the Taylor House, now Hotel Byron. Four other schools were
established at various points; one at Curry's Cove, or Sarawac,--so
named by Admiral Owen after a fishing hamlet in Wales,--where Lady Owen
and her daughters maintained a vigorous Sunday School.

=The Mail.= The mails, which were brought by vessel from St. Andrews,
came twice a week in summer, and once a week in winter; though it was no
uncommon event to wait three weeks for a letter, if the weather were
stormy. The people from Indian and Deer Islands came to the Admiral's to
get their letters; but woe to any one who chanced to arrive too early in
the morning, before the noble postmaster had finished his breakfast.

=Survey Book.= A curious manuscript book with parchment covers is still
extant, labelled on one side, "Register Book, Deeds, Leases, etc., for
the estate of Campobello. The property of Captain W. F. W. Owen, R. N.
June, 1835." On the other side is written, "Survey Book." It contains
several early survey maps of the National Boundary, of the Narrows at
Campobello, and of Casco Bay. There are also leases of smoke-houses and
weirs. The latter then rented for fifty or sixty dollars a year, and a
system of ground-rent prevailed. The Admiral could not have anticipated
much income from his possessions; for he speaks of the people as
"fishermen, about four hundred in number, very few of whom are, I fear,
able to please turn over to pay rent otherwise than in produce,--that
is, dried fish and potatoes."

=Tyn-Y-Coed.= In this same record book he writes that the farm called
Tyn-Y-Coed, or The House in the Woods, is so named from "the estate in
Montgomery shire, late of Owen Owen, Esq., and Sir Arthur Davies Owen,
his son, and William Owen, the youngest son, let to John Gregg, for ten
years on his life, at the rate of (6-1/2 s.) six shillings and
sixpence." On the oldest map owned by the present Company, drawn by one
John Wilkinson, in 1830, the Tyn-Y-Coed and also Lake Glen Severn are
designated. The land opposite the Tyn-Y-Coed, where now is the Wells
Cottage, used to be called Mount Pleasant.

The Admiral's domains extended beyond Campobello to Head Harbor, Pope's
Folly, Sandy, Spruce, and Casco Islands. Since his reign some of these
islands have been sold, while Casco Island was given to Chief Justice
Allen, of New Brunswick, by Lady Owen. When the little fishing vessels
and ferry boats, which ply between these islands, and the big schooners
and large steamers, are now counted on any one summer day, it is
difficult to realize how comparatively uncrossed were these waters in
the Admiral's early years of Island life.

=First Steamboat.= The first steamboat in New Brunswick was not launched
till April, 1816, and then it went only as far as Portland; and a second
steamer was not added till 1825. The first New Brunswick newspaper
fortunately was issued in 1783, so that it must have been able to
announce this new maritime project with due sensational headlines.

=First Telegram.= Not until April 30, 1851, was the first telegram sent
from St. John to John Wilson. Curiously reads his answer from St.
Andrews: "Being the first subscriber to the Electric Telegraph Company,
I am honored by the first communication from your city announcing the
great and wonderful work God has made known to man by giving us the
control of the lightnings."

=The Church.= Neither steamboat, newspaper, nor telegram could make
Campobello aught but a narrow confine for the social and political
ambition of the Admiral. An exile because of poverty that compelled him
to accept the royal gift, he felt that he must devote himself to
controversial discussion and the erection of a new Episcopal church.
Before this day the people had been Baptists; personal loyalty
anglicized the religion of all those around Welch Pool.

=Wilson's Baptists.= The people at Wilson's, however, never abandoned
their Baptist tenets, which they brought with them from the neighboring
islands as they settled around Head Harbor. Those along the North Road
rowed over to the larger settlement for baptisms and Sunday services,
which were first held in the schoolhouse, for the church itself was not
built until some thirty-eight years ago.

=North Road Baptists.= At last the North Road residents had their own
church, to which they were devotedly attached. The land for it cost
forty dollars in gold paid down to Captain Robinson, as the proceeds of
the efforts of sewing-circles and ladies' teas. The great Saxby gale of
some twenty-five years ago blew it down. Two years after it was rebuilt
for $447, and finally finished ten years ago. The devoted Episcopalians
at Welch Pool have made no greater sacrifices for their church than did
the little band of zealous North Road Baptists. Though their regular
ministers have been few, their irregular preaching and their prayer
meetings have been constant.

Still it was but natural that, as the boys of the Baptist islands
married the girls of St. George and other New Brunswick towns where the
Church of England was the prescribed form of faith, Episcopalianism
spread itself, not only among the islands in Passamaquoddy Bay, but at
Campobello.

=Church Corporation.= Soon after Admiral Owen had become resident
magistrate and commissioner for solemnizing marriages, to which the
witnesses as well as the bridal couple signed their names, he signalized
his authority by giving for three years certain wild lands as commons
for cattle to those who should belong to the "Church Episcopal
Congregation," when formed. The lease was duly signed by himself and by
John Farmer, in trust for the people. Such privilege, even if actuated
by worldly motives, proved of sacred benefit, for measures were
immediately taken to form a Church Association and corporation, with the
proviso that such persons as had decided objections to profess
themselves members of the church could by no means become a part of such
corporation. The Admiral's cattle ranged free in the commons, but on all
other licensed and marked cattle were paid the fees which accrued to the
benefit of religion, and large must have been the income thereof.

The regularly ordained preacher was sent from St. Andrews but four or
five times a year. On all other appointed days the Admiral read his
beloved service, even till 1842, when a resident missionary came to live
on the Island. Thirteen years after, in 1855, the church and burial
ground were consecrated by the bishop of the diocese. Most solemn and
tender must have been those first rites, when confirmation was
administered to three persons, and holy communion to forty others, in
that little building surrounded by the dark balsamic firs, looking with
its cross over the waters toward the New England steeples.

English friends sent money to the church, and the Owen family gave
memorial offerings. The reredos, with its silver cross, was a memorial
to Captain John Robinson, the grandson of the Admiral. The block of
stone from which the font was carved was taken from the Church of the
Knights Templar at Malta, and carried to Florence by the Admiral's
son-in-law to be wrought into graceful form, and then was borne across
the ocean to this tiny, much loved church. The chancel carpet, worked on
canvas in cross-stitch; the altar vestments; the stoles; the chalice
veils, green, white, crimson, purple, each bearing the symbol of the
cross in varied stitch and design,--were all wrought by the delicate
fair hands of the Admiral's daughter, and her children, and their
friends, as an offering of self-consecration and of devotion to the
building up of a higher life among the Islanders. These, too, brought
their gifts, and replaced with chandeliers the wax candles which had
been set in holes in the book-rests; and, when the sea called away the
men, an old lady, rich in humility and good works, rang the bell for the
weekly services.

=Bishop Medley.= Interwoven with the personal life of this church was
the affection with which it was regarded by "The Most Eminent John
Medley, D. D., Anglican Bishop of Fredericton, N. B., and Metropolitan
of Canada, who died in 1892, at the advanced age of eighty-eight years.
It was in this church that he married his second wife, who was a friend
of Lady Owen's. He seldom failed to visit the Island every year or two,
and was the trusted confidant of each man, woman, or child, who knew
him, for his simplicity of life accorded with Island habits, and the
people comprehended his singleness of purpose, even if they did not
always go to church. The names of Mr. and Mrs. Medley often occur in the
parish records as visitors of the Parish School, with which they seem to
have been regularly pleased.

=The Deanery.= The Parish of Campobello was and is under the
jurisdiction of the Deanery of St. Andrews. At its meetings, which were
for purposes of social visitation as well as for church discipline, the
Admiral talked to the Deans if not with them. He knew the law better
than many of them, and had an eye to business. Earnest and simple are
the records of these gatherings, as of the one at St. Andrews in 1852,
when some wished that "all articles necessary to ornament and fitting of
places of worship should be admitted free of duty"; yet the movement
failed of approval lest action on behalf of it might "appear like a move
of the church for exclusive privilege."

=Church Lands.= A later resolve of the Deanery reads as follows:
"Resolved, that whereas Romanists, Presbyterians, Methodists, and other
Sectarists, are busy in successfully seeking from the Government tracts
of land, to be surveyed for their respective denominations, to be
settled by their co-religionists, that the Rural Dean communicate with
the Lord Bishop, and ask his advice whether it may not be wise to seek
like tracts of land for the settlement of church families as soon as
possible, lest there be left no lands for the settlement of churchmen."

=Special Prayer.= When the Deanery met at Campobello it was resolved
that, "Owing to the special calling of the Inhabitants of the County,
that the Bishop draw up a form of Prayer for public service for those so
exposed, to be used at the discretion of the clergy."

In 1863, the Deans approved of employing a "Book hawker in the
dissemination of Church books and tracts in the Province." "The
prevailing sins of our time, especially those by which we are more
immediately surrounded," was as favorite a topic of discussion in those
days of Deanery meetings as it is now.

=The Admiral's Stock Company.= Among other documents belonging to the
period of the Admiral's active life on the Island is a pamphlet printed
in London in 1839, entitled "The Campobello Mill and Manufacturing
Company in New Brunswick, British North America."

This Company was incorporated June 1, 1839, with a capital of $400,000
in two thousand shares at $200 each; interest at 6 per cent. was
guaranteed on all sums actually paid on the shares, secured on the fixed
property on the Islands and responsibility of the Company. The President
was William Fitz-William Owen. There were also six Directors, who were
all in official life, with the exception of "John Burnett, Esq., of
Campobello, Merchant." The property, says the pamphlet, "is valued at
$100,000, and offers available means of employing five times the
capital." The returns in four or five years would probably be
twenty-five per cent, on the capital. The situation of the Island "is
extremely commodious for commerce with Great Britain, the West Indies,
and the United States." An early prospectus of the Company's extols the
situation, because, by order of His Majesty in Council, Campobello was
constituted a free Warehousing Port. Jacob Allan, Deputy Surveyor and
Commissioner of Crown Lands, "certifies that there is now standing a
sufficient quantity of spruce and pine of the finest growth for saw logs
to keep four double saw-mills going for the space of forty years; that
is, perpetually.... The fisheries on the coasts of the Island were let
this year by the Company for near £400, and fish were taken on the
coasts to the amount of £3,000." It is also "stated that there is a
large quantity of ore about Liberty Point." The Company was incorporated
"for the purposes of erecting, using, and employing all descriptions of
mills, mill-dams, fulling and carding machinery, and will have a decided
advantage over any other spot in British America." "The population would
thus grow rapidly, and the Company, having the property of the whole
coast, must become the medium of all exchanges with all the population,
which now amounts to six hundred only."

Alas, the Admiral's dreams have never been realized. The saw-mills which
were built long ago fell into decay. The ores, if there are any, are
still unexplored; agriculture does not flourish; the fisheries have
decreased, herring are scarce; and the various changes in the imposition
of duties have perplexed and thwarted the business activity of the
Islanders.

=Admiral's Second Marriage.= Year after year the Admiral saw his hopes
deferred. Lady Owen had died. His daughter, Mrs. Robinson Owen, and her
children, still lived in the Island home, helping, teaching, guiding all
around them with kindliness and wisdom. But the Admiral spent most of
the last five years of his life at St. John, for he married a Mrs.
Nicholson of that city, whose maiden name was Vennell.

=His Burial.= His strange, pioneer, semi-royal, administrative career
ended in 1857. The boat that bore him back from St. John for the last
time to his hermitage ran aground; for the great falling tides bade him
wait, even in the pomp of death, until it was their hour to bear him
aloft on his oft-trod pier. Men, women, and children, seized lantern,
candle, or torch, and carried their hermit lord over the rough stones
and the narrow ways to the cemetery, where they buried him at eventide,
amid the waving trees and with the sound of falling tears.

His memory nestles in the hearts of the children who play around the
weirs, and who have learned from their grandsires the tales of his
jokes, his oddities, and his kindnesses. His children and his
grandchildren stayed in the primitive ancestral home till 1881, when the
Island was sold to an American syndicate. As long as any of the Owen
family lived there they were beneficent rulers of the people, and
maintained a courtly standard of manners and morals, the grace of which
lingers among the Islanders.

=The Cannons again.= Tradition and fact still invest the Owen name with
tenderness and homage, as was shown on July 10, 1890, when the
great-grandson of the Admiral revisited Campobello. Never has the old
cannon belched forth its volume of sound more loudly than it did for
Archibald Cochrane, who, as a boy, had often sat astride of it. A
"middy" on board Her Majesty's flagship _Bellerophon_, he came back to
his ancestral estates, accompanied by Bishop Medley. The boys' sunny
blue eyes and gentle smile recalled his mother's beauty to the old
Islanders. The Dominion Hag and the English flag waved from every ship
in port and from the neighboring houses, to welcome him back. As the
steamer came in sight, the aged cannon, mounted on four huge logs of
wood, gave forth its welcome. Each time the cotton had to be rammed
down, and the cannon had to be propped up. Each time the match and the
lighted paper were protected by a board held across the breech at arm's
length; but the brass piece did its duty, and the people called "well
done" to it, as if it had been a resuscitated grandsire. The steamer
answered whistle for cannon blast, and the children's laugh was echoed
back across the water.

It was dead low tide--and the tide falls twenty feet--when the venerable
bishop came up the long flight of steps, slippery and damp with seaweed.
Guarded on each side and before and behind, with umbrella in his hand
for his walking-stick, the metropolitan of eighty-four years accepted
the unneeded protection which Church of England reverence dictated.

=The Great-Grandson.= But as the boy ran quickly up the same steps,
there was not a man who did not rush forward to greet him. The band
played, while the women crept out from among the piles of lumber and
waited for recognition. It came as the boy was led from one to another,
bowing low in his shy, frank manner, cap in hand, to the women and
girls, who had known him as a child, and shaking hands heartily with all
the men, young and old. Away off stood two old ladies, who blessed the
morn which had brought back their young master. Up to them he went with
pretty timidity, and then, boy-like, hurried off to look at the cannon.
He put his finger on it with a loving touch and a lingering smile, which
to the older ones who saw it told of hidden emotion, which, perhaps, he
himself scarcely recognized.

Silence fell as the Metropolitan rose from the chair where he had been
resting and thanked the people for their greeting to the boy, because of
his grandparents. The midshipman's eyes shone as they fell on the faces,
lighted up as they had not been for years, to see that the fair,
five-year old boy who had left them had grown into the straight-limbed,
graceful, manly, modest youth, whose greeting was as unaffectedly frank
as their own. After a while midshipman and bishop stole silently away up
to the graves of the old Admiral and his wife, of the captain
grandfather, and the cousin, all of whom had been naval heroes.

=The Old Home.= On to the Owen house went the boy and found his old
haunts,--first, the nursery, then his mother's room, and next his
grandmother's; out among the pines to the places where he had played, on
to the sun-dial and the quarter-deck. All were revisited, with none of
the sadness which comes in middle life, but with the sure joy of a child
who has found again his own. He clicked the uncocked pistols of the
Admiral, and took up the battered, three-cornered hat.

In the afternoon a game of baseball was played in his honor; and never
did his great-grandfather watch more eagerly for victory over the
pirates than did this descendant watch that the game might be won by the
Campobello boys. At evening, in the little English Church, where the
bishop blessed the people and told of Lady Owen's deeds of mercy, the
boy bent his head over the narrow bookrest, and after the service was
over he again shook hands with those who had so easily and quickly
become his friends.

The next day the people gathered again at the wharf. The midshipman was
a new old friend by this time. Once more the brass-piece sounded
farewell as he crossed the bay. It had been the playmate of his boyhood,
his imaginary navy, his cavalry horse, his personal friend. By its side
he had never wanted to rest on chairs or sofas. Once more he turned to
look at it as he went down the steps to the water's edge, and waved
adieu to those who loved him for his mother's sake, with a fondness and
pride and sense of personal ownership unknown in "the States," where
ancestry counts for but little.

The old cannon still stands upright in Mr. Batson's store. No one would
ever steal it again. No one can ever buy it away. From father to child
it will descend, to tell of the English-American feudalism of a hundred
years ago, and of the happy, bright boy, who found his father's house
turned into a modern hotel.

The wonderful loveliness of Campobello can never be taken from it by any
possessor. It is a beauty partly its own, and partly borrowed from the
soft rounded headlands, the toy-like islands, the vanishing rivers, and
the far reaches up the bay, which make the opposite shore. Busy shining
Eastport, with its New England steeples, spreads itself gently in a long
line down to the water's edge.

=The Sunsets.= At evening the sunset sends its glory over the waters and
the land, blending all into the wondrous charm of changing, glowing
color. The sunsets of the Island have been likened to those of Italian
skies and Swiss lakes. They need no comparison. They make their hours
those of exceeding beauty and reverent silence.

=Treat Island.= Treat Island is one of the places which enhance the
enjoyment of Campobello. It lies between Lubec and Eastport. Its first
owner was Colonel John Allan, who gave it the name of Dudley Island, in
recognition of his friend, Paul Dudley Sargent, a descendant of the Earl
of Leicester. As Colonel Allan's revolutionary sentiments compelled him
to leave Nova Scotia, his American patriotism eventually led to his
appointment of Superintendent of the Indians. He thus became involved in
perplexities and hairbreadth escapes. At the end of the war he went into
business on Dudley Island, and counted among his guests Albert Gallatin.
Allan was buried on the island in 1805. In 1860 two hundred of his
descendants gathered there, and dedicated to his memory the marble
column which the antiquarian and the picnic lover alike visit. After a
while the island began to be known as "Treat's," for a gentleman of that
name had bought it, and carried on there a large fish-curing business.
He was also the successful pioneer of the canning industry. But with the
scarcity of herring and multiplicity of duties, the weirs became
disjointed and the houses dilapidated. Alas! now the land is hired for
pasturage, and excellent thereof is the milk.

=Benedict Arnold.= Among Allan's customers when he lived on the island
was Benedick Arnold; for Allan spelt the name with a _k_, as his account
book shows. Arnold at that time, though in business at St. John, N.B.,
was living for a short time in Campobello, at Snug Cove. In the
Centennial year this account book was exhibited at Dennysville, as one
of its curiosities. In 1786 Arnold bought a new vessel, which he called
the "Lord Sheffield," and made trading voyages in her along the coast
and to the West Indies. Once, while cruising in Passamaquoddy Bay, he
invited Colonel Crane to dine with him on board his vessel. But the
Colonel, who was a revolutionary veteran, stamping his foot, wounded at
the siege of New York, furiously replied, "Before I would dine with that
traitor I would run my sword through his body." Arnold went to England
in 1787, where he insured his St. John store and stock for £6,000. The
next year he came back; a fire consumed all, and Arnold collected the
insurance. Two years later Arnold's partner accused him of setting fire
to the store. Arnold sued for slander, and claimed £5,000 damages. The
jury awarded twenty shillings! When he left St. John his house was sold
at public auction. "A quantity of household furniture," reads the
advertisement: "excellent feather beds: mahogany four-post bedsteads,
with furniture; a set of elegant Cabriole chairs covered with blue
damask; sofas and curtains to match; an elegant set of Wedgewood Gilt
Ware; two Tea-Table sets of Nankeen china; Terrestrial Globe; a double
Wheel Jack; a lady's elegant Saddle and Bridle, etc." Yet whoever now
owns them must be glad that they are not family heirlooms. Auction sales
are more honorable for some china.

=Smuggling.= Whether Arnold was attracted to the Passamaquoddy region by
its opportunities for smuggling can never be known. But certain is it
that the embargo law of 1807 had put a stop to foreign trade, and in
1808 destroyed the coasting trade. Before then it had been easy to carry
breadstuffs and provisions across the line. Thousands of barrels thus
reached Eastport; and many thousands were brought to Campobello and
Indian Island, at one dollar a barrel. Smuggling began, or, if it did
not then begin, it increased. Sudden wealth and bad habits kept pace
with each other. At first the price for smuggling was twelve and
one-half cents a barrel, which quickly rose to three dollars a barrel.
One man is said to have earned forty-seven dollars in twenty-four hours.
Fogs helped,--"that's why they were made".

In the war of 1812, Indian Island and Campobello were very busy in
shipping English goods and wares from the large colonial ports. Neutral
voyages were constantly made. American vessels had a Swedish registrar,
and went from Sweden to Eastport in three or four hours. Silk, wool,
cotton, metals, were thus carried up the bays and streams, and shipped
in wagons to the Penobscot, then to Portland, Boston, etc.

Provincial trade was peculiar. British vessels, laden with gypsum and
grindstones, because they came from ports not open to American vessels,
sailed to the frontier out on the lines, and transferred their cargo to
American vessels waiting there. Slaves from Norfolk, Virginia, were sent
to some neutral island, from there transported to an English ship again
out on the lines, and then carried to the West Indies.

=Rice Island.= One of the islands which was cognizant of some of the
smuggling was Tuttle's, now called Rice Island, after Solomon Rice, who
kept store there. It is a little round spot of beauty in the chain of
islands bridged by fallen weirs, between Lubec and Eastport.

=Lubec.= Lubec itself owes its existence to the attempt of five citizens
of Eastport to avoid the payment of duty bonds to the British. Lubec
Point was then only a forest. Though by 1818 it had become a rival of
Eastport, it is now but a small town. Yet it is more picturesquely
situated than almost any other town in New England. Its single steeple
and its flagstaff dominate the steep hill down which run two grassy
streets to the water's edge, where stretch out into the Narrows the
piers, which change their aspect with each rising and falling tide. When
the fog sets in over the bay, the last point it hides is Lubec steeple.
When it lifts, it leaves its gay flower gardens damp with a moisture
that brightens each tiny petal. From the top of Mulholland's Hill, on
Campobello, Lubec looks like some quaint foreign spot, with streaks of
American activity across it.

Out beyond the town is Quoddy Lighthouse, built about 1809. Near it is
the Life Saving Station. On the left of the hill are the low marshes off
Lubec, and beyond them the long purple line of Grand Manan.

There is no more varied excursion than to row over to Lubec, and from
there to drive through woods and over sandy roads to the lighthouse.
Then drive back and along the upper shore to North Lubec, where the
Young Men's Christian Associations have bought land and erected a hotel,
with the privileges of fair accommodations and the enthusiasm of
camp-meetings. At sunset take the Lubec Ferry to Campobello. There is so
much to see in each place, and so many hills for the horse to walk up,
that it is better to take two separate days for these drives.

=Eastport.= Another favorite pastime with the summer visitor is to row
across to Eastport. It is the great shopping place, not only of
Campobello, but of its own county. Most excellent and tasteful are its
shops, whose proprietors have a courtesy of manner which city merchants
might well emulate. The drives from Eastport are pleasant, each one
different from the other. Go along the water up to Pleasant Point, where
a few Indians live under the care of the kindly sisters of the Catholic
Church, and where Rev. John Cheverus once visited, or over to Pembroke
with its mills, and up and down long hills.

=Meddy Bemps.= Best of all is it to forsake the viands of the hotels,
drive up to Meddy Bemps, and camp there for two or three days; catch
what early fish you can, bass and pickerel; eat as big and as sweet
blueberries as ever grow; pull up the water lilies by their long stems;
buy rag mats; and enjoy the quiet and beauty of the lake and its shores.

=The North Road.= On Campobello itself the most lonesome and picturesque
drive is that along the North Road, over stony and narrow ways, up rough
hills, and by beaches which seem close to the houses. The view framed by
the New Brunswick hills is ever changing, while the St. Croix River
extends off into an unrimmed distance. From Head Harbor, lines of
fishing boats, brilliant with the red flannel shirts of the men, stretch
out into the bay. Eastport seems near and far. Part of the North Road is
gay with gardens, for dearly do the Islanders love their dahlias, their
princely flowers, and all the lesser floral dignitaries. Here stands the
Baptist Church, against which the lambs crouch as if in sacrificial
symbol. Far beyond it is Mallock's Beach, sentinelled by high cliffs,
reverenced for generations as the baptismal beach. Then come the
desolate, low peaks of bare, purple rock, which shut out all but gloom,
when suddenly appear the bright, laughing waters of Havre de
Lutre--Harbor of the Otter--and its opposite wooded shores, leading to
Head Harbor. Let your horse find his own way homeward, and climb home
yourself along the shores of Havre de Lutre, which will bring you out at
the head of the harbor, near where William Owen first settled.

=Head Harbor.= The longest drive on the Island is to Head Harbor,--the
Queen's Highway, as it is called,--past Cold Spring, Cranberry and
Bunker Hills. Climb both, and you will never forget the view. Drive on
past Conroy's Bridge, the schoolhouses, the church, Wilson's settlement
(where do not fail to buy sticks of checkerberry candy), up and down the
hills to Head Harbor River (where, report says, the Admiral once built a
brig), to Head Harbor Beach, and there picnic. Then, refreshed by a
lunch, which tastes better in the open air than indoors, walk over to
the Fog Horn House, and, if the tide is right, go down a rocky hill,
across a rocky ford, up a short iron ladder and on to Head Harbor
Lighthouse. Never start on any excursion at Campobello until you have
adjusted your hours to the tides, or else your plans will fail.

=Mill Cove.= This waiting upon the tide is of special importance at Mill
Cove, the road to which branches off from Head Harbor road. There is no
place on the Island equal to this for surprises. When the fog is "in"
half of it is non-existent, as it were. At high tide you see an island
which you cannot reach by carriage. At low tide you urge your horse up a
short, pebbly beach, down into the water, and up on to an island. By
permission of its occupant, you drive through his land out into a broad
green field, with the Bay of Fundy fronting you, and the Wolves looking
hopelessly lonely. Give a whole day to the weird and sunny beauty of the
cove and its nooks.

=Nancy Head.= Between Mill and Schooner Coves are the White Rocks and
Nancy Head, so called from a ship that was wrecked there.

=Schooner Cove.= Schooner Cove is another surprise, but a single one.
After you have reached it, put on your rubbers and take the mile walk to
the left along the cliffs. Ten years ago it was the most solemn trail
that you could follow. Now, as civilization has come nearer, and
sunlight has penetrated it, the grey moss hangs less heavily from the
close branches, leafless even in summer, while the water dashes up over
the rocks on the other side of the narrow path. On the right of the cove
go with care, and at your peril, over the headlands, along the coves,
and in through the almost untrodden forest to Herring Cove.

Here is the longest beach in Campobello, with curiously tinted and
marked pebbles. It is but a mile through the woods, starting from the
Tyn-Y-Coed, and is the favorite walk and drive of all those who like
smooth and shady roads and an air laden with "spicy fragrance." On the
left is Eastern Head, never to be forgotten as a place of exploration,
with wonderful views from its points and down its ravines.

=Herring Cove.= A unique pleasure, which, though obtained by driving,
cannot properly be counted among the drives, is the visit at night to
Herring Cove, to see the men "driving the herring." Each wherry has a
ball of cotton wool, or a roll of bark, on a stick saturated with
kerosene, or else it is put into an iron cradle fastened to an iron
pole. As the cotton or bark burns, the moving boats look like a fitful
procession of lights. The brightness attracts the herring, and, as one
man rows, while another "drives," the nets are hauled up full of
wriggling, shining fish.

Lake Glen Severn, so called after the Owen place in Wales, is separated
by a short bridge from the high beach before it slopes down to the
water.

=Meadow Brook Cove.= Beyond Herring Cove is Meadow Brook Cove, an ideal
place for the scene of a summer idyl. Into it runs a tiny brook which
starts somewhere near the head of Havre de Lutre, marking the division
which once took place in the Island, according to geologists. The ruins
of a stone wall which runs along the brook are no longer supposed to
have been built by the Northmen, for the Admiral erected it as part of
his scheme in draining the meadow.

Branching off from the Herring Cove Road is the Fitz-William road, where
many lots have been sold, and also the road to Raccoon Beach. This drive
is along another wonderful tangle of forest skirted by beaches. It leads
to Liberty Point, the cable line from Welsh Pool to Grand Manan passing
by it, on to Skillet Cove, where there is a split rock, on again to Owen
Head, desolate and vengeful in its height, down to Chalybeate Spring,--a
fortune for the future,--across beaches too rough for a single team with
four people, to Cranberry Point, and back to where you started. At Deep
Cove, near the Point, is a rock bearing pronounced glacial marks. Take
the drive at low tide, and feel its gloom, with the fog drifting across
your face. Take it at high tide, on a sunny morning, and feel its
cheerfulness.

Once more drive down to the Narrows, past the cottages; stop at Friar's
Head, whose Indian name was _Skedapsis_, the Stone Manikin. Go to the
pagoda-like structure on top of the hill, climb down its side, and at
low tide go walk between the Friar and the hill; then at high tide
wonder how you ever did it. Retrace your steps. Go along the road, past
Snug Cove and the schoolhouse, till you come to the Narrows, where runs
the swift current which only the experienced boatman can cross in his
flat-bottomed boat, that carries alike the passenger or his horse, or
brings over from Lubec the funeral hearse.

Yet these are not all the drives. Subdivisions of them lead you into
marshes, plains, and woods, though they are preferable as bridle paths
or walks. They began as cow-paths, and may end as country roads.
Adventures can still be sought over dangerous cliffs. It is more than
easy to get lost in the woods. Still, no matter where you go, you cannot
help coming out somewhere near water and a fisherman's hut; for
Campobello,--in Indian dialect _Ebauhuit_, signifying by or near the
mainland,--having an area of twenty square miles, and a circumference of
twenty-five miles, is ten miles long and two to three miles wide.
Remember in all these drives to turn to the left, and when you walk not
to be afraid of cows.

Perhaps it is the water excursions which render Campobello most famous.
Among these is the sail to St. Andrews, which offers modern Wedgewood
ware for sale, and where is the far-famed Algonquin Hotel and Cobscook
Mountain. The West Isles and Le Tete Canal make another pleasant sail.
To go around the Island on a calm day is delightful. Very exquisite in
its limited beauty is the sail up St. George's River, the trees on
either side arching their branches over the little steamer. St. George's
Falls and the stone quarry should also be visited on landing at the
pier.

=Johnson's Bay.= For a short outing, row across Friar's Bay to Johnson's
Bay; climb the little hill to the pleasant, neat, and hospitable
farm-house; go through a grove to the wooden look-out, and clamber
upwards. For wondrous beauty of beach and land-locked bay, of great
headlands and brown hay-cocks, of the mystery of nature's secretiveness
in South Bay, the view is unsurpassed.

=South Bay.= Then, inspired by its loveliness, come home to the hotel,
engage Tomar and his canoes, paddle across the wide bay, and in and out
of the islands and crannies of South Bay, the happiest, sunniest,
cosiest bay on the Maine coast. Go through the canal at high tide;
paddle everywhere around till the tide turns, and you can pass back
through this narrow and again water-filled canal into Friar's Bay, the
cottages at Campobello serving as guide in steering the homeward course.

=The Tides.= But truly there never is any guide among the tides and
currents setting in from the different islands and headlands save that
of correct knowledge of their ways. To lose an oar in these waters might
mean drifting for hours; and then if the fog sets in! That fog, which is
the basis of conversation on first acquaintance, the spoiler of picnics,
and the promoter of a beauty of landscape so infinite and varied that
one only wonders how any summer place can be without it.

=Dennysville.= Yet, if any one chances to feel that he is too much a
part of the fog in a row-boat, take the little steamer to Dennysville.
The ebb and flow along the coast in this region is so marked, that in
going up the Denny River the pilot carefully guides the steamer through
the whirlpools and maelstroms, which are dangerous only in winter. The
river grows very narrow, till at its source it seems to be set in meadow
lands, along which one wanders, through the quiet village roads,--for
the town is fifty miles from any railroad,--trying to comprehend why
anybody should forsake a spot so soothing to the spirit and so simple in
its loveliness for the confusion of city life.

=Grand Manan.= Of all the water excursions that to Grand Manan is by far
the most rich in reward. The best way is to take the steamer Flushing,
which runs three times a week from Campobello to Grand Manan, and spend
two nights and one day there,--longer, if you wish. There is little fear
of sea-sickness on board the big steamer. The extraordinary cliffs and
the sixteen-mile drive to Southern Head are scenes never to be
forgotten, but which beggar words to describe. The sternness of nature
stands here revealed, and the moans of the sea-gulls tell of even their
need of sympathy.

=The Friar.= Beside these cliffs the noted one of the Friar at
Campobello seems comparatively short; yet it is the prominent rock of
the Island as one approaches it, and its importance is increased by the
legendary lore that has gathered around it. Mr. Charles G. Leland tells
the story in this wise:--

"Once there was a young Indian who had married a wife of great beauty,
and they were attached to each other by a wonderful love. They lived
together on the headland which rises so boldly and beautifully above the
so-called Friar. Unfortunately her parents lived with the young married
couple, and acted as though they were still entitled to all control over
her. One summer the elder couple wished to go up the St. John River,
while the young man was determined to remain on Passamaquoddy Bay. Then
the parents bade the daughter to come with them, happen what might. She
wished to obey her husband, yet greatly feared her father, and was in
dire distress. Now the young man grew desperate. He foresaw that he must
either yield to the parents--which all his Indian stubbornness and sense
of dignity forbade--or else lose his wife. Now, he was _m'te[=u]lin_,
and, thinking that magic could aid him, did all he could to increase his
supernatural power. Then, feeling himself strong, he said to his wife
one morning, 'Sit here until I return.' She said, 'I will,' and obeyed.
But no sooner was she seated than the _m'te[=u]lin_ spell began to work,
and she, still as death, soon hardened into stone. Going to the point of
land directly opposite, over the bay, the husband called his friends,
with his father-in-law and mother-in-law, and told them that he was
determined never to part from his wife nor to lose sight of her for an
instant to the end of time, and yet withal they would never quit
Passamaquoddy. On being asked sneeringly by his wife's father how he
would effect this, he said: 'Look across the water. There sits your
daughter, and she will never move. Here am I gazing on her. Farewell!'
And as he spoke the hue of stone came over his face, and in a few
minutes he was a rock. And there they stood for ages, until, some years
ago, several fishermen, prompted by the spirit which moves the
Anglo-Saxon everywhere to wantonly destroy, rolled the husband with
great effort into the bay. As for the bride, she still exists as the
Friar; although she has long been a favorite object for artillery
practice by both English and American vandal captains, who have thus
far, however, only succeeded in knocking off her head."

=Tomar.= Many an Indian legend of doubtful authority still clings to
various points on the Island; yet only the Indians themselves are
persistent and real. Each summer day they bring their baskets for sale.
Tomar, at one time governor of his tribe, on a small salary with large
work to do, is one of the few thoroughbred Indians who still live in
this region. He is a man of integrity, skill, and gentleness. Each
visitor is eager to gain his companionship and guidance in his canoe, as
he paddles into nooks where one less experienced might hesitate to
penetrate. Greater than his skill in paddling is Tomar's ingenuity in
scraping pictures on birch bark symbolical of Indian life.

=His Tribe.= The Passamaquoddy Indians, or Openangoes, were a branch of
the Etechemin nation, and apparently of comparatively recent origin.
Their earliest village near Campobello was at Joe's Point, near St.
Andrews. The majority of the remnants of the tribe are found at Pleasant
Point, near Eastport, at Peter Dana's Point, near Princeton, and at The
Camps, on the border of Calais. Their language is fast dying out; but
their traditions and customs have been carefully studied and collected
largely by Mrs. W. Wallace Brown, of Calais, and also by Professor J.
Walter Fewkes, who has taken down on the wax cylinders of the phonograph
many of their songs and stories.

The following original poem by one of the tribe was written for a sale
that was held on August, 1883, for the benefit of a new rectory on the
Island, in which Miss Lucy Derby was interested, and through whose
efforts the rectory was built, the Company giving the land.


                           AMWES-WINTO-WAGEN.

        Amwézik 'klithwon ya skedabe zogel;
        Skedap tatchuwi melan kekousé kiziolgweh.
        Ulzee-ik 'lee madjhé goltook kizosook;
        Tatchuuwi tewebn'm nenwel kthlee-tahazoo wagenen woolsum'kik.
        Piyemee absegékook beskwaswesuk tchicook
        Pèmee woolip p'setawkqu'm'see you wen.
        P'skèdab tatchuwè oolazoo weeahl m'pseeoo-wenil.
        Amwess ooktee-in aboozek;
        Uppes kootee-in hedlègit;
        Beskwas'wess lookquem hahze;
        Nojeemeeko gèmit chooiwigeou:
        Weejokègem wee you'h.
        Piel John Gabriel kweezee-toon yoot lin to wagun.
        Kee zee skee jin wih tun;
        Whu-titli keezeetoon Ebawg'hwit,
        Wè jee kissi tahzik wenoch chigwam.
        N'paowlin kweezee Iglesmani tun.


                         THE SONG OF THE BEES.

        The bees make honey for man;
        Man should give something to God.
        The trees lift their tops to the sun;
        We should lift up our hearts to our father.
        The smallest flower in the forest
        Gives out a perfume for all.
        Man should do good unto all men.
        The bee has a tree (for a home);
        The tree has a place to grow;
        The flower has a stem;
        The clergyman must have a house:
        May this song help it.
        Peter John Gabriel made this song.
        He made it in Indian;
        He made it in Campobello (the island by the shore),
        To help to build the house.
    [1] N'pow-o-lin (the scholar, or man learned in mysteries) put it
            into English.

     [1] MR. CHARLES G. LELAND.

=The Fenians.= Among the Islanders are many whom it is delightful to
know. They are all interested in affairs of church, school, and state,
and eager for the future commercial prosperity of the Island. Excitement
in local politics often runs high, but only once--in 1886--has there
been resort to arms. Then the Fenians were at Eastport and Lubec. From
the latter place some came over to low water mark, but were driven back
"by the shine of the rifles"; for Captain Luke Byron, with one hundred
and fifty Islanders, duly equipped, was stationed at the Narrows, Havre
de Lutre, and Wilson's Beach. Though the Fenians were at Eastport but
little more than a month, the Campobello committee of safety remained on
guard three months. But when an English man-of-war came into the harbor,
the Fenians, to avoid capture, sank their own vessel off the Narrows,
beyond the lighthouse, and escaped themselves towards Machias.

=Climate.= The summer climate of Campobello is cool and delightful, the
thermometer ranging between fifty-five and seventy-five degrees; so one
can be outdoors all day long without becoming oppressed by the heat. The
extensive forests of balsamic firs seem to affect the atmosphere,
soothing and invigorating the visitor by day, and inviting sleep by
night.

=Water.= The greater part of the Island is fertile. The common field and
garden plants and vegetables grow abundantly, while the deep layer of
drift gravel affords excellent well water at almost all points. The
water supply for the hotels and cottages is, however, brought in pipes
from distant springs, and filters itself by passing through a natural
reservoir of sand.

=Soil.= The soil consists of a light clayey loam. "The general surface
of the Island is marked by the sharply curved contours characteristic of
all glaciated regions, where the rocks are of unequal hardness covered
over by a deep bed of soil composed of the drift waste. This soil
consists of a light clayey loam of rather remarkable fertility."--says
Professor Shaler. "The greater part of the trees are evergreen,
belonging to two species of fir and two of spruce. Scattered among them
are the common species of birch, poplar, the common red beech, and in
open swampy places the alder," which spreads with amazing rapidity.

=Flowers.= Wild Roses, varying in color from the palest pink to an
almost magenta red, cover whole fields with their frail beauty. In the
grass and round the ledges about Friar's Head the Campanula droops its
blue bell. The Blue Iris skirts the borders of Lake Glen Severn. The
Field Daisy, Sea-side Buttercup, the Marsh Pea, the Fall Dandelion, and
the Sheep Laurel, spread themselves over the pastures in processions of
color. The Wood Oxalis, its white petals veined with pink, and the
Linnæa or Twinflower, are found half concealed beneath the underbrush of
the woods. Among the rarer flowers of the Island is the Alpine Cloud
Berry, or Amber Colored Raspberry, found on the Alpine summits of the
White Mountains and on the Northeast Coast, which is the same as the
Norwegian species. The Corn Chamomile, a rare weed, and the Wild
Chamomile, both of which are naturalized from Europe, are found here,
but chiefly around Eastport. The aromatic Wintergreen is the real
Checkerberry, in Maine called the Trory Plum. The lovely Eyebright is
found only along the coast of Maine and Canada; its Alpine form is rare.
There are many varieties of Orchids, Asters, and Goldenrod, of
Primroses, Honeysuckle, Heath, and of Lilies, from the Trillium or
Trinity Flower to the two-leaved Solomon's Seal.

The wild strawberry in July, and the blueberries and raspberries in
August, and the small cranberry in September, give occupation to the
children, whose prices for berries are variable.

In the waters around the Island there "is a richer animal and vegetable
life than is found along any other part of our shore."

=Dispute about Names of Rivers.= These waters have been the subject of
constant litigation from early days. According to the oldest maps, the
present St. Croix River was called Magaguadavic, and the Schoodic River,
the Passamaquoddy; a name applied not alone to that River, but to the
bays of Schoodick, St. Andrews, Cobscook, the waters from around Head
Harbor (Campobello), to West Quoddy, etc., on account of the great
number of pollock taken in these waters. The Magaguadavic received its
present name of St. Croix from a cross erected there by the French,
before there were any English settlers in its neighborhood. The dispute
concerning the identity of these rivers, interesting as an historical
matter, has not the political importance which attaches to the
settlement of the boundary line between the American and English
possessions.

=Boundary Line.= This line goes out "between Deer Island and Campobello,
so as to give the United States equal access through the main channel to
the sea, and then remands Campobello into British territory," for, by
the treaty of 1783, all islands heretofore within the jurisdiction of
Nova Scotia were to remain British territory.

=The Owen.= All this now is a matter of almost antiquarian concern, the
present interest centering in the development of the Island as a summer
resort. In 1881 it was purchased of the Owen heirs by a few New York and
Boston gentlemen, who organized the Campobello Land Company. The Owen
was at once built upon the site of Admiral Owen's private domain. Part
of this dwelling house was moved across the gravelled walk to serve as
an office for the Company and in it were placed the Owen relics. The
rest of the house was left unaltered, the lower rooms serving as hotel
offices and the upper ones as chambers. The following year a larger
dining room for the hotel was constructed, William G. Preston being
employed as architect of the whole structure.

=Tyn-Y-Coed.= In 1882 the Tyn-Y-Coed was opened, in 1883 the Tyn-Y-Maes,
both erected under the supervision of Cummings and Sears, of Boston.

=Cottages.= The first cottages which were finished in 1884 were those of
James Roosvelt, Esq., of New York, and Samuel Wells, Esq., of Boston.
Dr. Russell Sturgis, of Boston, Travers Cochran, Esq., of Philadelphia,
Alexander Porter, Esq., and Gorham Hubbard, Esq., of Boston, Alfred
Pell, Esq., of New York, have each successively built summer residences
on the Island.

In 1892 The Owen and its adjacent land and Man-of-War Neck were sold to
some Boston gentlemen, who intend to manage the Owen as a summer hotel.

*       *       *       *       *

Each year the place becomes better known, but those who early made it
their summer home have stamped upon it, it is hoped, that simplicity in
manner of living which will prevent it from ever becoming either a place
for picnics or a fashionable resort. It can never lose the picturesque
beauty and the exhilarating climate which make it a most beautiful
summer sojurn from May to November, for the autumn months are as
glorious in clearness of atmosphere as the early summer months are
lovely in their softness of verdure and coloring, while the sunsets
always kindle the imagination into visions of the future.




                           Transcriber Notes:

Text in bold is enclosed by equal signs (=bold=), and Text in small caps
is replaced by all caps (ALL CAPS).

Throughout the book, the current town of Welshpool was referred to as
Welch Pool. A review of the internet reveals that this alternative
spelling has often been used.

On page 13, the phrase "had do other" was replaced with "had no other".

On page 17, "March, 28, 1789" was replaced with "March 28, 1789".

Starting on page 21, there is a section labeled "Nomination Day" which
has an extended quotation starting in the middle of the first paragraph
and continuing to the end of the section. That quotation had markers at
the beginning of the paragraph and at the end, but not at the start of
each paragraph within the quotation. The quotation marks were not
modified to current usage.

On page 22, "descendant's" was replaced with "descendants".

On page 24, "arrrive" was replaced with "arrive".

On page 27, There is a missing closing quotation mark in the section on
Bishop Medley, but it is unclear where that mark goes.

On page 31, "with a a loving touch" was replaced with "with a loving
touch".

On page 37, "Head Habor" was replaced with "Head Harbor."

On page 41, there are two instances, there the character of a u with
macron was represented by "[=u]".

On page 47, "sojurn" is a simplified spelling of "sojourn".