“It is agreed that the people of the United States shall continue to enjoy unmolested the right to take fish of every kind on the Grand Bank, and on all the other banks of Newfoundland; also in the Gulph of Saint Lawrence, and at all other places in the sea where the inhabitants of both countries used at any time heretofore to fish. And also that the inhabitants of the United States shall have liberty to take fish of every kind on such part of the coast of Newfoundland as British fishermen shall use (but not to dry or cure the same on that island) and also on the coast, bays and creeks of all other of His Britannic Majesty’s dominions in America; and that the American fishermen shall have liberty to dry and cure fish in any of the unsettled bays, harbours, and creeks of Nova Scotia, Magdalen Islands, and Labradour, so long as the same shall remain unsettled…” In view of the current strife between Maine and Canadian lobster fishermen, imagine the sheer havoc such an agreement would cause if it were inaugurated today. The quarreling over boundaries between Maine and British Canada did not cease until the Webster-Ashburton Treaty, firmly establishing forever the lines between the two countries, was proclaimed on November 10, 1842. Back to the British occupation during the 1812 War. In addition to their desire to claim the land between the Penobscot River and the St. Croix River (the British had already named this region “New Ireland”), which includes much of present-day Hancock and Washington Counties, the British needed a base that allowed supplies to come, unmolested, from Canada and at the same time, would allow them command of shipping in northern New England. The little town of Castine, situated on a peninsula in the upper bay, just below the mouth of the Penobscot River, answered these needs perfectly. The Americans had bled on this ground in an earlier war. During the Revolution, despite unparalleled American bravery, the Colonial naval commander, Commodore Dudley Saltonstall, managed to bungle the situation through timidity and allowed precious time to slip away. A British fleet finally arrived and wreaked havoc with the American navy. The result was the worst American naval defeat in history. Saltonstall was court-martialed and blocked from further military service. The pre-dawn hours of Septem- ber 1, 1814 were typically quiet for the little village of Castine. However, the sunrise shed light on a terrifying and completely unexpected scene. A British fleet, comprised of eight warships and 11 transports, bearing 3,500 troops, hove into sight. The fleet had just set sail from Halifax, Nova Scotia, with the intent of investing the sleepy village in order to provide a base for future operations. The American garrison at Castine numbered only about 40 souls, under the command of Lieutenant Lewis. The fort was situated so as to protect the harbor. It was a half moon-style earthwork, mounting four, 24-pound guns and two field pieces. Lewis knew that resistance would be suicidal, so he gave one volley from his guns before spiking them (driving iron spikes in them so they could not immediately be used against him) and withdrew from the place, taking the field pieces with him. The British assumed command of Castine without firing a shot. The officers were quartered in the homes of prominent citizens and the troops, for the most part, were quickly deployed toward further conquest. The citizens at Castine were assured that they would not be harmed if they complied with British demands and if they abstained from transmitting intelligence to their fellow Americans. The British promised to pay for any supplies they might appropriate. As repugnant as this sounds, some in Castine may have viewed the British occupation as a mixed blessing. After all, the national economy was in shambles. Food prices rose to unheard-of heights. For instance, flour, once selling at $11 per barrel, commanded $20 for the same barrel as a consequence of the War of 1812. Other staples rose in price accordingly and even worse, a national property tax had been acceded to by the American Congress. People were hurting and the British occupation promised to stimulate the flagging (local) economy. The British, and their money, remained in Castine for approximately seven and one-half months. Meanwhile, the British commander Sir John Sherbrooke wasted no time in prosecuting his plan to take over the land between the two rivers. The bulk of troops were landed at Castine by the afternoon of September 1 and by early afternoon, two separate parties left Castine, one headed for Belfast, the other up the Penobscot River. The contingent assigned to invest Belfast consisted of three vessels, the frigate Burhante, along with two transports and 600 troops, under General Gosselin. These reached Belfast by late afternoon. The frigate anchored near Steele’s Ledge at the mouth of Belfast Harbor. An automated light known locally as “The Monument” now marks this. In fact, Steele’s Ledge is a popular place for local fishermen to set their lobster traps. It’s likely that few if any today think back to the time when an enemy vessel anchored here in order to subjugate the town. The arrival at Belfast was not unannounced. From the top of Main Street Hill in Belfast, residents watched as the British fleet sailed into Castine. All eyes were glued to the east when three vessels separated from the rest and headed across the bay toward Belfast (put yourself in that situation, if you will. This must have taken the breath away from many persons watching the scene.) It would take a while for the enemy to make the crossing. This at least allowed time for those who wished, to remove themselves, family and valuable possessions from Belfast and head to the safety of the outlying towns. Some traveled up to 10 miles, a considerable distance back then. At the same time, in true Minuteman fashion, militia from all around proceeded to assemble. The British knew the militia would gather and so needed a presence in Belfast to prevent the locals from interfering with the rest of the planned maneuvers. Around 5 p.m., one of the transports, carrying several British officers under a flag of truce, approached the Belfast shore. Handing the first person to walk toward him the truce flag, the British officer requested an audience with the town’s chief official. Asa Edmunds, Chairman of the Board of Selectman (the equivalent of the modern, First Selectman) then met with the enemy officer. The officer told Edmunds that the British intended only to hold the town for a few days (this was to insure that nobody from Belfast could spread the word of the British presence in the area before the proverbial trap had been sprung.) The officer stipulated that no gun was to be fired by any of the Belfast residents. If that happened, the town would be burned. However, if the Belfast folk cooperated, the British promised to leave within four days. The British also demanded of Edmunds a variety of provisions, including fresh beef. The goods were to be made available the following morning. Edmunds, hedging his bets, explained that it might be difficult to procure everything on such short notice. The supplies were produced on time, though, and the British promised to pay for the provisions, a promise that they apparently kept. The troops were later landed and marched to their makeshift barracks. Interestingly, this was the so-called “Boston Regiment,” the 29th, the same regiment that was involved in the Boston massacre. It is certain that this fact was not lost upon at least some of the Belfast residents as the British soldiers paraded past to the tune of “The British Grenadiers.” The British were as good as their word concerning their occupation of Belfast. They disembarked on the evening of September 6 (some reporters maintain that the British stayed two extra days. I can’t find definite proof that that is true, though.) The reason Belfast was so speedily abandoned was because the British had no reason to hold it longer. Their main object, don’t forget, was the land between the Penobscot and St. Croix Rivers. Belfast, on the northwest edge of Penobscot Bay, was on the west side of the disputed area. And while those living between the two rivers were required by the British to sign either an oath of allegiance or an oath of neutrality, Belfast citizens were not made to sign either. The British never considered Belfast as part of their territory; they only held it briefly because occasion required it. At the same time General Gosselin headed for Belfast, the warships Dragon, Sylph and Peruvian, accompanied by the transport Harmony, set sail for the Penobscot River. The invaders reached Marsh Bay, in Frankfort by evening, where they anchored for the night. As dawn broke, the British put approximately 550 troops ashore to possess the town of Frankfort. After that, the troops marched north along the river, following the ships. Up to this point things were quite one-sided, with the British pretty much dictating events. That soon changed, but only briefly. Sir John Sherbrooke, the British chief, was bent upon capturing the American Corvette John Adams, which lay disabled upriver, at Hampden The Adams had been a thorn in the side of British shipping, having an enemy ship, two brigs and a schooner to her credit. The Adams’ captain, Captain Morris, was left with a skeleton crew after having mustered out 130 officers and seamen and 20 marines. Previous to that, he had lost 70 men to scurvy. It is interesting to note that along the shores of Penobscot Bay and along the River, grow several plants rich in Vitamin C, which could have not only prevented, but reversed the effects of scurvy, or Vitamin C deficiency. But at that time, only the poorest of the poor deigned to consume such plebian fare. However, an assortment of persons soon assembled to bolster the American cause. Remember Lieutenant Lewis and his men who left Castine when the British sailed in? Lewis and his 40 regulars joined Captain Morris at Hampden. Plus, Brigadier General John Blake, of Brewer, accompanied by 300 militiamen armed with a variety of mostly antiquated smoothbore long guns, soon added his weight to the growing American resistance. Blake, Morris and the town fathers from Hampden convened a council of war. A fight was in the offing. By evening, September 2, the British had reached Bald Hill Cove, just below the present Waldo/ Penobscot County line. Here, the warships reunited with the troops that had marched upriver from Frankfort. At this point, I’ll interject some local folklore. A descendent of a family then living at Lower Oak Point recently related to me a fascinating bit of trivia. It seems the local folk had ample warning of the British progress up the Penobscot River. Not knowing exactly what to expect, this particular family decided to take the precaution of burying their valuables, mainly a costly collection of silver, under the roots of an oak tree in front of the house. A huge, oak tree still stands in front of the same house and family tradition holds that this is the same tree where the silver was buried so long ago. Maybe it’s true, maybe not. But it’s pleasant to think that this tree has transcended the years, and these many generations of the same family. The descendents of those who lived here during the British invasion still live on the same property. Part II in next issue. |
