that they might have the land for cultivation, rolled into the fireplaces huge logs, six or eight feet in length, and piled them up as long as they would lie upon each other.

As a description has been given of the house into which a bride and bridegroom moved, it may not be amiss for the present luxurious generation to know something about a lady's dower in the early settlement of the town. The mother of Mrs. Hawes had three daughters to fit out, and she divided her furniture as equitably as she could among them. The following was what Mrs. Hawes had: One coverlet, one pair of sheets, one feather-bed; three white kitchen-chairs; one white chest with one drawer, the legs of which she colored with an indigo bag; one looking-glass, about eight by ten inches, with flowers running up the sides; one tea-kettle; one spider; two pewter porringers, holding about one pint each; three knives, three forks; three flowered cups, three saucers, three plates, taken from a set of crockery; three pewter plates, and two or three wooden trenchers to eat upon, which were kept neat with much care, and occasionally boiled in lye; also an old-fashioned loom and a great spinningwheel. After a while the knives were broken, and her husband took some broken scythes to the blacksmith, and had shanks drawn out, which he inserted into

wooden handles made by himself. To this may be added what belonged to her husband, viz.: One seachest, one straw-bed, one pair of woollen blankets, and one iron pailful-pot, exceedingly annoying, because, in boiling, the fat, if not the food, almost invariably escaped through the broken side of it. In this manner one of the most worthy couples in the place began housekeeping. Mrs. Hawes was subsequently confined; and then, to meet expenses, she was obliged to part with her wedding gown of home-made linen. Afterward Mr. Hawes broke his leg, and his wife was obliged to take charge of the outdoor and indoor work, and cut the wood for cooking; but he was able to assist her by entertaining the twin children. When

haying time came, he was obliged to part with his wedding garment.

In the fall of the year 1783, Jessa Robbins began housekeeping.

1784.

In September, 1784, Amariah Mero came from Stoughton, and bought the farm now owned by his son, Spencer Mero. Afterward, he settled on the farm and lived in the house with Philip Robbins, whose daughter he married. At this time there were thirteen families.

1785.

In the spring of 1785, Josiah Robbins, brother of Philip Robbins, came to Stirlington, and began to clear the Robbins Neck.' This name is given to the peninsula, the neck of which is intersected by a line running north-westerly from the north end of Seventree Pond to the St. George's, a little below the Middle Bridge. Josiah Robbins, with David Gillmor, senior, of Franklin, Mass. bought the entire peninsula, containing about two hundred and seventy acres. Gillmor never came to Union to reside. His son Rufus came in 1787, improved the south part of the Neck, and cleared the True Farm, or Fuller Farm, as it is sometimes called, now owned by Mr. Charles Fogler. His house was on the west side of the road, a little below Mr. Fogler's, and very near the foot of the hill. Robbins built his house on the brow of the hill, between the house now owned by his grandson, Willard Rob

A few years after Josiah Robbins moved to town, there was a gathering to raise a barn for him. Bread was very scarce; and rum, in those days considered almost indispensable on such occasions, commanded an exorbitant price. But, as there were fish in abundance and some meat, it was concluded, instead of the ordinary refreshment, to have a supper. David Cummings, then a boy, was sent on an errand from the barn to the house, where he saw Mrs. Robbins taking bread from the oven. Watching his opportunity, he broke off a piece, and ran. He often spoke of it when he became a man, and added that this was one of the richest meals he ever ate; for his dinner that day had consisted of nothing but boiled beechleaves.

bins, and the pond. The old cellar may still be seen. A cat-and-clay chimney was made by driving into the ground four crotched sticks, for the four corners of the fireplace. Bars were laid in the crotches; and on these bars, which were high and commonly of wood, was laid a mixture of clay and chopped straw. Lengthwise in this mixture was laid a stick, about an inch in diameter; and this was also covered with it. Thus the sides of the chimney were built. In a few days, the clay was hardened by the heat. Flat stones were placed against the logs of the house, to prevent them from taking fire. The door was opposite the side of the fireplace. Long back-logs were slipped in under the bars on which the cat-and-clay chimney rested.

In May came Royal Grinnell, with his family. At that time there were fifteen families. It is said that there was not probably a washtubful of grain in the place.1 He lived on the Mill Farm two or three years,

1 There have been seasons of so great scarcity, that some of the most prosperous inhabitants occasionally subsisted on alewives and milk. This was the case with Samuel Hills and family. When Mrs. Matthias Hawes was about fifteen years old, and resided with her parents in Warren, she fared thus for three weeks, and became so exhausted that she often laid her head down upon the loom where she was weaving, and shed tears. And, even when there was grain, it was difficult to get it ground. The millstones at Taylor's mills were small and poor. Often there was want of water. Oftener the mill was out of order. Then it was customary to put corn into a hole made in the end of a log, which was sometimes hooped with iron, and to crack it with a wooden pestle, either held in the hands, or attached to an apparatus like a pump-handle. Thus a family obtained hominy. For finer meal, the cracked corn was sifted through holes made in birch-bark with heated fork-tines. Sometimes it was considered advisable to take a grist to mill. Then it was carried to Oyster River, to Molineux's mills in Camden, or to Wessaweskeag in Thomaston. The bags were boated to the Carrying Place in Warren. There they were left till the carrier went to the head of the tide, about two miles distant, hired a horse, and returned for them. They were then transported across the Carrying Place, put into another boat, and the horse was returned to its owner. In this way, by water and by land, the grist was borne forward to the mill. The same tedious process was repeated in returning. For each grist, it was necessary six times to cross the Carrying place in Warren.

Sometimes the grain was carried on horseback the entire distance from Union. Then it was necessary to walk by the horse all the way. The bushes, fallen trees, old logs, gulleys, were so numerous, and the

and had charge of the mills. Mrs. Grinnell was in the habit of assisting her husband in setting the mill-logs, and marking the boards. On an emergency, she took an ox-chain, wound it over her shoulders and back, and carried it to the blacksmith-shop of Samuel Hills, to be mended. After living at South Union three years, Mr. Grinnell, with his wife1 and children,

path, which was designated by spotted trees, was so bad, that frequently the bags were taken off and replaced twenty times during the journey.

Jessa Robbins says he has hauled grain on a hand-sled to Seven-tree Pond, carried it on his back the two miles at the crossing place in Warren, and rowed it to Lermond's. His mill being a tide-mill, and the water frequently low, he oftener had to go on with it to Coombs's, at Wessaweskeag. The journey always required two, and sometimes three days.

In a time of scarcity, the owners, on their return, frequently loaned the greatest part of the meal to the needy. The earliest crop of rye was harvested and ground as soon as possible, in order to relieve the inhabitants, perhaps for a week, till other crops were ripe. If any one had a suitable piece of ground, he sowed barley, as it ripened earlier. When Royal Grinnell was miller at South Union, he frequently ground the poor man's peck or half-bushel of grain, without taking the toll.

1 Mrs. Grinnell and Nathaniel Robbins, Esq. have dwelt much upon the annoyance from the small black flies, with which the woods swarmed when they came here. Though they have now almost wholly disappeared, the common black flies cannot in number be compared with them. If it were practicable to count them, they could be reckoned only by millions. Their bodies were about half as large as mosquitos. They bit, and drew blood instantly. This was followed by an inflammation and swelling, which continued several days. If a child went to the door for a minute or two, it would return covered with them, and with the blood running down its face, hands, and legs. Haymakers, choppers, and laborers in general, covered their faces with handkerchiefs in self-defence. The annoyance was indescribable. When night came, they ceased from their bloody work. But it was only to give place to mosquitos, which then began in turn their attacks. During the warm season, the inhabitants had no peace, either by night or by day. The only partial remedy lay in building large fires, and raising a dense smoke before the doors of the log-houses; and, if the smoke filled the houses, it was considered vastly preferable to the mosquitos.

Dr. Thaddeus William Harris- whom Professor Agassiz does not hesitate to pronounce 66 decidedly the best entomologist in the world" - in his Treatise on Insects, p. 405, calls the small black fly, or gnat, Simulium molestum, and says: "These little tormentors are of a black color; their wings are transparent; and their legs are short, and have a broad, whitish ring around them. The length of the

settled on the farm which was in possession of Phinehas Butler before he moved to Thomaston.

Aug. 25. Elijah Holmes, from Sharon, married in Stirlington Dorcas Partridge, from Franklin. He took up his residence on the place subsequently owned by the late Obadiah Morse, and now by James Adams Ulmer, of Thomaston. He cut the logs of his house, "backed" them together, put up the walls before any one knew it, and then announced to the family of Capt. Adams, with whom he boarded, that he had a house. He also lived on the farm now owned by Philo Thurston, and afterward near Capt. Tobey, on the farm since owned by Deacon Morse. Not many years passed before he moved to Rockland, and became an extensive landowner.

1786.

In 1786, Josiah Robbins moved his family from Franklin. On the Lord's Day before their departure for the wilderness, where they would be beyond the sound of the gospel, the sons and daughters were led by their parents to the front of the pulpit, and "in the presence of the large congregation received the ordidinance of baptism and the apostolic blessing of that venerable man," the Rev. Dr. Emmons. After this consecration, they took their departure. They landed

...

body rarely exceeds one-tenth of an inch. They begin to appear in May, and continue about six weeks, after which they are no more seen. They are followed, however, by swarms of midges, or sand-flies, Simulium nocivum, called no-see-'em by the Indians of Maine on account of their minuteness. So small are they, that they would hardly be perceived were it not for their wings, which are of a whitish color, mottled with black. Towards evening, these winged atoms come forth, and creep under the clothes of the inhabitants, and by their bites produce an intolerable irritation, and a momentary smarting, compared, in Gosse's Canadian Naturalist, to that caused by sparks of fire. They do not draw blood; and no swelling follows their attacks. They are most troublesome during the months of July and August." It is very likely that these animals caused part of the sufferings alluded to; but, as the inhabitants in Union were not naturalists, and had not a very correct idea of these insects, it is probable that oftentimes they did not distinguish the midges from the gnats which immediately preceded them.