No One Lives There Anymore

This 1925 map shows the extent of desertion of roads and houses in Piermont, Warren, Orford, Wentworth, Lyme and Dorchester. The dots represent deserted houses, and the heavy lines are deserted roads; roads still in use at the time are shown by a light line. The map is a result of a study by Dartmouth geography professor James Goldthwait that was included in his 1927 article "A Town That Has Gone Downhill."

The back of beyond sections of area towns were littered with the remains of abandoned homes and farm buildings as residents moved away and nature reclaimed the pastures. (UVM Special Collections)

The Frank Finney fam was one of the last to survive in Orford's Quinttown. According to Leon Marsh of Fairlee, who was born in this house, the buildings burned in the 1940s. Abandoned stone walls and overgrown cellar holes create a "silence of desolation" in this once thriving neighborhood. (Orford Historical Society) Copperfield, in Vershire, was a booming mining town in the 1890s. In the center of the village was a three-story company store. All that remains of this thriving community are the tailings, or waste materials, from the mines. (UVM Special Collections) In the 1870s, the mining company provided these shanties for miners and their families at the Pike Hill copper mine in Corinth. Like Copperfield to the south, this village disappeared with the closing of the mine. (UVM Special Collections) In August, 2006, my brother, Ray Coffin, Jr. joined me in a visit to the site of our great grandfather's farm on Hodge's Hill adjacent to the road between West Topsham and East Orange, Vermont. He and his family were one of five or six farm families that lived in this little neighborhood just before the Civil War. All that is left are cellar holes, stone walls and overgrown orchards. The road is now just a trail. As published in the Journal-Opinion, February 23 and March 2, 2011 “The traveler through such States as Vermont and New Hampshire in particular finds deserted homesteads at every turn, ruined and empty houses and their ramshackle barns, with open doors and windows looking like eye holes in a skull, and wide stretches of young forest, where once grew corn and potatoes. The inexorable forest comes down and claims its own as soon as the hand of man intermits his patient toil.” This 1897 observation by Daniel Appleton describes the condition in the back of beyond sections of many area towns as population declined after 1820. In December 2009 and March 2010, I wrote about the exodus from the region. This column deals with those area neighborhoods that became deserted. Not all deserted neighborhoods are covered as they have disappeared either in name or detailed memory. These include such sites as Davistown, Baldwin Corners, and Gray City, all in Orford. The population boom experienced by many area towns in the formative decades after 1765 brought farm families to all parts of each community. Many early farmers preferred the hill country because it was less prone to floods or swamps. They believed that the centuries of leaf mold from deciduous trees created better soil than that of the pine-covered low lands. For them, the sun shown a bit longer and the warm breezes prevented earlier frosts than in the shadowy valleys. Marginal though it was, the uplands provided sufficiently for the subsistence farmer. Lumber, firewood and maple sugar were taken from nearby forests, stones for walls were collected from upland pastures and food crops were grown on the place. But for many, the isolation was hard, especially for the women whose tasks literally worked them to death. At some point in the decades from 1820 to 1860, every area town reached a peak of population and began to decline. For a time, in some hill locations, it was true that the “only thing growin’” was the cemetery. These same towns recorded their lowest population since settlement in the period between 1920 and 1950. The following represents the high and low census years for some area towns during the period from 1820 to 1970. Lyme 1820, 1930; Thetford 1830, 1940; Newbury 1850, 1970; Bradford 1860, 1930; Topsham 1840, 1940. The causes of this decline include the lure of cheap land on the ever-expanding western frontier and the promises of the nation’s growing cities. These opportunities held special attraction for young adults. Other reasons given include the inability of these rough country farms to compete with the West in raising sheep and growing wheat, their most profitable. Add to these high taxes, severe winters and the loss of neighbors and kin. Some blamed those who unwisely located in submarginal locations or were too unwilling to do the work necessary to “eke out a living.” One observer blamed the decline on the poor diet of the families. Too much fried meat, potatoes and pie! The impact was most evident in the upland hill regions on the east side of area towns in New Hampshire and the west side of Vermont towns. In his 1927 article, A Town That Has Gone Downhill, Dartmouth geography professor James Goldthwaite describes the impact of depopulation on the eastern half of Lyme as an example of what was happening in many hill country neighborhoods. Lyme’s Patterns and Pieces includes several lengthy descriptions of school districts that reflected this decline. Written in 1948 by Edwin Dimick, they include the Acorn and Whipple School Districts in the north central part of town. The area was settled as early as 1776 and became a farming community with fine buildings and productive fields and orchards. Having lived there all of his 86 years, Dimick describes place after place where the buildings were gone and the fields had grown up to brush. Goldthwaite also mentions the decline of Tinkhamtown, a small settlement in the southeast corner of Lyme south of Gline’s Hill and the area around Acorn Hill and Smart’s Mountain. He describes the decline of farms: “the tide was ebbing fast by 1860.” By 1892, “the entire northeastern quarter of the township, so largely occupied by Smart’s Mountain, thus became a blank on the population map.” The Acorn Hill neighborhood was completely abandoned and “the 1100-foot contour…marks a rather definite population strand line for 1925.” It is no accident that a portion of this almost inaccessible territory is known as Hardscrabble. Neighboring Orford’s Quinttown is another prime example of the abandonment of the hill settlements. In 1792, Benjamin Quint settled adjacent to the base of Mt Cube near Jacob’s Brook. Goldthwaite described the community at its height as having “fifteen houses, a few saw mills, shops, a schoolhouse or two and a store and there was a schoolhouse (gone before 1855) at the top of the long hill on the mountainside, with 50 or 60 pupils.” At its height nearly 200 residents lived in the vicinity.  Farming along with the quarrying of limestone were the two major economic activities. By 1892, the village had been largely abandoned. Several farms held out into the first decades of the 20th century. Lumbering activities were common. By the late 1940’s the only resident was the recluse Billy Brown. The swimming hole at Flat Rock on Jacob’s Brook was the main attraction. To the north was Piermont’s eastern section along the now abandoned North and South Road. This road ran from Clay Hollow along the base of Piermont Mountain. The 1947 history of Piermont describes the road as once being the location of “many large farmsteads belonging to our early most prosperous citizens.” Farms in this section were very productive and in the 1840’s were being sold at high prices. “New purchasers of these farms were not equal in ability to the men whose places they had taken” This, along with other causes, brought about abandonment and the road was eventually discontinued. Just to the east in Warren was Charleston. William Little’s 1870 history of Warren describes that district: “Their buildings were good, their great barns were always filled with hay, and their sugar places were the best in town. But alas! All this has changed. The dwellers in the district by the lake are all dead, the houses and the barns have mouldered away, the spot where they stood can hardly be found, and the fields and the pastures are grown with forest trees.” The conditions in these locations are summed up in a 1905 comment about Benton by William F. Whitcher: “Some sections which were formerly settled and occupied by owners of farms are abandoned.” Across the river in Vermont, western sections of river towns suffered in a similar manner. Brushwood in the northwestern area of Fairlee was “so isolated” that in 1895 the district school had only one pupil. Portions of West Corinth declined in population. Bill Hodge of the Topsham Historical Society says that the area in Topsham near the Groton line, known as “the Territory,” once had as many as 24 farms, three schools and a hotel. It is empty now, as are several of the other most rural sections in Topsham. In Bradford, portions of Goshen, the South Road and Tarbox have their share of abandoned cellar holes and stonewall. All of these are representative of the decline of small hill farms and the reforestation of much of Vermont. In Newbury, the Lime Kiln district and the Grow and Dow neighborhoods along the Topsham border experienced both early growth and later decline. Wells’ History of Newbury states: “The farms that cling to the hills on the west are among the best in town.” Writing in 1902, Wells concludes, “that Newbury has shared in the depopulation of all hill towns in New England. There are more than 200 spots in town where houses once stood, and there are none now.” Two other neighborhoods that experienced booms were Copperfield in Vershire and Pike Hill in Corinth. Copper brought a large number of residents to these mining villages. Located along the road from West Fairlee to Strafford, Copperfield at its height had almost 1000 residents, a school, two churches, a store, barber and millinery shops, a library and meeting hall along with the facilities required for mining and smelting copper. The Pike Hill neighborhood was not as large as Copperfield, but did have a school and store along with a number of miners’ shanties. Both of these mining communities are completely abandoned. I will write more on mining in the area in a later column. In 1984, Hal S. Barron wrote a manuscript entitled “Those Who Stayed Behind.” In it he takes earlier observers to task for viewing these changes “in terms of extraordinary decline and decay.” He refutes any assumption that “the quality of life in Lyme [or the other towns in the area] went down hill along with its people.” He suggests that these were “expected characteristics of older agrarian societies.” Despite the decline in population, most area towns had agricultural and non-agricultural sections that continued to prosper. In many cases, farm production remained constant, especially in the intervales along the Connecticut. Village life in towns such as Lyme, Thetford, Newbury and Bradford was vibrant and growing. In the last two decades of the nineteenth century, Bradford village gained a new hotel, three major brick office buildings, factories and a new library and academy along with new sidewalks, water system and electric lights. Despite the title of this article, it is not exactly true that no one lived in some of these rural neighborhoods for very long. In response to the number of abandoned farms both Vermont and New Hampshire established programs to advertise available property. The targeted audiences included potential immigrants from northern Europe and Canada as well as the new leisure class of America’s cities. In one 1889 listing of abandoned farms for sale, four Orford and Piermont farms were offered for between $3 and $11 per acre. New Hampshire listed 1342 “abandoned farms with tenantable buildings” and Vermont listed more than 1000, over half, “with buildings that are in fair condition.” Abandoned pastures turned into second-growth forests, offering opportunities for the lumbering industry. Writing in 1886 on the condition of Vermont forests, Hiram A. Cutting concluded: “Springing up as it does on so many worn-out and abandoned farms, the white pine has made industry and wealth possible to many parts of the state which otherwise would have been wholly deserted.” By the early 1900’s, a slow turn around had begun. There was an increase in the number of immigrant farmers. The “back to the land movement” and the growth of the summer recreation industry created interest in rural property among urban members of the new middle class. The advent of the automobile and rural mail delivery followed by the spread of telephone, radio and electricity to rural sections brought new life to the hill country. Old farm houses that were purchased as vacation homes often became retirement homes for gentlemen farmers. In July, 1932 an article appeared in The United Opinion under the headline “Many Seek Summer Home Sites in Vermont.” Prompted by Dorothy Canfield’s publication Vermont Summer Homes, over 7500 inquiries had been received by the Vermont Bureau of Publicity from “outsiders looking for homes, permanent or temporary.” Over the past four decades, life has returned to many rural areas as the overall population of local towns reached new highs. In the late 60’s there was a resurgence of the “country life movement” that resulted in new residents, full or part-time. The extension of the interstate highway in the early 70’s allows young families to build in remote areas and work in larger communities. With capital from home sales to the south, retirees are able to purchase tracts of land for new homes, often with the most desirable mountain views. While not equaling the home building boom experienced by some other parts of the nation, all area towns have experienced new construction, often in neighborhoods that had been most depleted of population a century before. Additionally, the reforested areas offer hunters, hikers and outdoor enthusiasts ample opportunities for recreation. I am the descendant of many generations of New England farmers. Interest in the topic of depopulation was enhanced by my trek to an abandoned neighborhood on Hodge’s Hill adjacent to the West Topsham-East Orange road. There my great grandfather Coffin lived with his family just prior to the Civil War. All that remains of that small collection of hardscrabble farms are cellar holes, stone walls and overgrown orchards. Both my grandfathers were born on Vermont hill farms. The small farm on which my father was born in East Brookfield doesn’t appear to have a single flat acre. While I grew up in Fairlee and Orford villages, we owned a 300-acre farm in Archertown near Sunday Mountain in Orford. Most of it was hilly. It was there that I was personally introduced to the idea that the best annual crop was often stones. Being descended from those who struggled to pull a living from often unforgiving land gives one an appreciation for thrift, hard work and a good dose of stubborn determination. And those are traits worth honoring.

Send Out the Alarm!

Newbury Spared, Royalton Burned, In October 1780, a "Great Alarm" warned area
frontier communities of a threatened invasion by 300 natives and Tories from Canada. Warned that Newbury was on alert, the invaders veered west and attacked Royalton and Tunbridge. This engraving is from Gathering Sketches from the Early History of Vermont by Frances

Chase (1856) (Courtesy of John Dumville)

Bradford on Guard In January 1932, armed sentries were guarding Main Street in Bradford in the wake of anonymous threats to burn the area. This photograph appeared on the front page of The United Opinion and was taken by Clarence Finn of the Boston Post, one of three Boston newspaper that covered the threats. (Courtesy of the Bradford Public Library)

Topsham on Watch. During World War II, area citizens held air raid drills and manned obervation posts watching for invading airplanes. The lower photo show Gertrude Cilley and Hazel Colby manning the Waits River spotting post. These photos are taken from Topsham Sketches, courtesy of the Town of Topsham.

Vida Metcalf Perry-Munson displays the "Certificate of Honorable Service" presented to her in May, 1944 by the Army Air Force Fighter Command for her service as a volunteer in the Aircraft Warning Service. As a teenager, she was a spotter at the Erwin Worthley Farm on Taplin Hill in Corinth. Spotters such as Vida and her sister Eris Metcalf Eastman called in reports of airplanes during the early years of World War II.


As published in the Journal-Opinion, January 5, 2011

“War-Like Scene,” “Bradford, Vt., Armed Against Terrorist, Armed Camp” were the headlines in New England newspapers in the days following January 15, 1932. On that day, two Bradford businessmen had received anonymous letters revealing a plot to burn buildings on the east side of Main Street. The alleged motive was to collect insurance and clear land for a movie theatre. The wooden buildings in that section contained 17 businesses including the post office and were so tightly packed that a fire would endanger them all.

While some felt it was a hoax, the actions of a crank, many took it seriously and took preventive measures. This terror was heightened by reports that similar letters had been received in Haverhill, Orford, Lebanon and White River Junction and that fires had actually been reported in some of those towns.

The local American Legion provided uniformed armed sentries who, according to one newspaper, were under orders to fire at trespassers. The downtown block was illuminated with searchlights, front and back. Federal, state and local authorities were involved in the search for the writer of the letters that had been posted in Concord, NH.

The name of the local individual named in the letters as threatening to cause the havoc was not released. However, it was reported that “he” had met with Village Trustees and offered to both cancel the fire insurance on his downtown property and offer a $200 reward for the letter writer’s identity.

For several weeks the town’s residents were on edge. It was later revealed that an arrest was made, and that the motive was a personal grudge against the individual named in the letters. Neither the name of that individual nor the accuser were revealed in local newspaper reports. Dr. James Barton states that he is “100% sure” the businessman was his immigrant father, Charles Barton, and that the motive was to discredit him.

This was neither the first time nor the last that the residents of our area experienced the terror coming from the threat of attack. In some cases, the threat of local attacks was real and in others only precautionary. Rumors and misinformation inflated actual dangers, increasing the perceived threats of attack. These threats would stretch from the earliest days of settlement through the years of the Cold War and include the danger from tomahawks and muskets to bombers and intercontinental ballistic missiles.

As some area towns celebrate the 250th anniversary of their chartering this year, it is well to remember that the earliest settlers lived on a dangerous frontier. They were familiar with the terror of earlier attacks by the French and their native allies. The outbreak of the American Revolution in 1775 brought a succession of alarms for area residents.

During the earliest years of the Revolution, residents believed they were on the invasion route from Canada to Massachusetts. In Orford, a guardhouse was built behind the present Masonic Hall for scouts on guard for an enemy invasion. Haverhill built four stockades to provide a secure place for citizens in case of attack. With many men leaving to join the revolutionary army, the area felt increased vulnerable. The fall of Fort Ticonderoga to the British in 1777, “caused great consternation” in surrounding communities. Colonel Israel Morey of Orford summed up that fear in a July, 1777 letter: “Our Frontier Towns are really in a dangerous and critical situation. We are entirely laid open to the sudden attack…” The American victories that summer reduced immediate fears.

While a major invasion did not take place, the fears never really went away. In October, 1780 there was a “Great Alarm” as 300 natives and Tories made plans to attack Newbury in retaliation for the death of a British general. Wells’ Newbury history states, “Terror magnified the invading force into an army.” Being warned that Newbury was anticipating an attack, the force veered west and attacked Royalton and Tunbridge instead. While the war subsided elsewhere after 1781, this area experienced a succession of alarms over the final two years of the war. Actions by Tories kept the nerves of the residents on edge.

In the 19th century, area residents experienced alarm both individually and as communities. The proximity of the British during the War of 1812, the frequency of major unexplained epidemics and the episodes of barn-burning, created alarm. Then Civil War brought with it fears for both the future of the nation and the safety of the men who joined the service. The attack on St. Albans in October, 1864 caused rumors that Confederates lurked over the border intent on invading Vermont. Additionally, there were the cycles of economic panic and fears some residents experienced as new immigrants moved to the area, endangering established ways.

The wars of the 20th century brought new threats to the area. When America joined the war against Germany in 1917, there were fears of sabotage throughout the nation. Locally, the most vulnerable strategic target was the Valley’s railroad. It carried the troop trains filled with members of the American Expeditionary Force on their way to Quebec where they would embark for Europe over the shortest ocean route. Detachments of troops were posted to guard bridges in Bradford and Wells River. Bradford historian Harold Haskins, himself a soldier in the war, wrote of fear that these bridges, “might fall victim of German saboteurs eager to slow up our country’s preparation for war by crippling our transportation lines.” They did not.

Protected by two oceans, the fighting of World War I seemed safely far away. That feeling was shattered by the attack on Pearl Harbor in December, 1941. As our region is less than 100 miles from the Atlantic Ocean, area residents joined national defense preparations. A Civilian Air Raid Warning Defense system was organized. In this area, civilian volunteers manned observation posts and trained as civilian defense wardens. Reports in The United Opinion told of state-wide preparation for the dangers of air raids. It quoted one state official: “The front lines in a modern war can be our own back yard.”


Towns in the area held trial blackouts. It was felt that village lights along the Connecticut River might guide invading planes toward possible targets. Woodsville held one in December, 1941. In early April, 1942 Bradford held its first blackout. There were warning blasts from the whistles at the Vaneer mill and the Vermont Dairy Co. along with the continuous ringing of one of the church bells. In August, both Vermont and New Hampshire held state-wide drills, with area towns participating in both. In November, Bradford had its first day-time mock raid with three planes buzzing the village creating simulated casualties and damage.

While few really expected such an attack, they were determined to be prepared for “whatever may come.” That preparation also helped to create a sense of participation by the civilian population in this total war. The paper encouraged volunteers to be trained and ready in the case of emergency. “America is calling! Take your place in the local defense effort” read one front-page article. Additional articles gave details for blackouts. They encouraged residents to know the rules, take simple precautions for the safety of family and property, and, above all, in the case of an actual attack, “Don’t lose your head. Panic hurts more people than bombs.”

Like the scouts of earliest days, observers watched for the enemy. They were trained to identify different aircraft and report the direction of their flight. In Topsham, the posts were at the Kenneth Batten farm and on the current Welch Road; in Haverhill one was near the County Road; in Newbury on Leighton Hill. Most were manned in shifts 24-hours a day even before it was announced that Germany was producing bombers capable of crossing the Atlantic to drop a 7000 pound bomb load. These watches were taken seriously.

Wallace Ragan of Lyme recently told me he was only 8 years old when he became an observer at the post on the hill east of the Lyme Common. Officials apparently want “young ears that might hear better.” Corinth also used young spotters at the Taplin Hill post. Ragan said the observation post had an old crank phone for reporting sightings. The older men whiled away the time with cribbage and checkers. He felt that the officer training facility at Dartmouth College and the tool industry in Windsor and Springfield were possible targets. By late 1943, the danger of attack by air was lessened and the shifts were cut back. While the anxiety over attack subsided, fears for the safety of hundreds of area residents in the service did not.

When World War II ended with the defeat of Germany and Japan, America enjoyed a brief respite from alarm. Then the Soviet Union “got the bomb,” bringing with it new fears. The Cold War’s arms race between the two nations meant the menace of nuclear weapons and mass casualties and destruction. The threat of atomic weapons being delivered by intercontinental bombers was eventually replaced by missiles with nuclear warheads. With the attitude that nuclear war was inevitable if not imminent, Civil Defense officials took actions to prepare the civilian population.



In 1950, a pamphlet entitled “Survival Under Atomic Attack” was sent to millions of homes, including those in our area. Individuals were encouraged to build air raid shelters and stockpile emergency provisions. Fairlee Civil Defense leader Lee Chapman notified residents of a program to secure dog tags to help identify victims in case of an attack.

As an elementary student at the Orfordville School, I recall being led through “duck and cover” drills. This was part of a national program that was supposed to protect school children in the event of an unexpected nuclear attack. At first, we were instructed to duck under our desks. Later, we were told that sitting on the floor in the hallway offered a better protection. Avoid under all circumstances looking at the “flash” created by a nuclear explosion.

The McCarthy era brought with it the prospect of communist spies and sympathizers in our midst. An April, 1949 political cartoon in the Opinion showed Uncle Sam rooting out communist spy rings. I recall suspicions being raised against those with a foreign accent, especially if they drew their shades at night! The authors of Freedom and Unity report that there were some who felt that Vermont had “been chosen as a testing ground for communist infiltration” and called for investigations of suspects. Others disagreed and resisted “threats to individual liberties and communal trust.”

In August 1950, the police were called to the Bradford Inn to investigate a stranger with a foreign-sounding name, “who was overheard to mention Communism in his talk.” A tongue-in-cheek article in the Opinion entitled “SSSHHH! Spies At Work” assured readers that not only was the stranger not a spy but that Bradford was probably not “Joe Stalin’s prime objective if the cold war gets hot.” Frank Bryan wrote that one Vermont editor reacted to any Communist threat to take over Vermont with the statement “Anyone who tries to bore from within in Vermont is going to strike granite.”

It is important to recall that the national witch hunt that destroyed the reputation of numerous citizens was condemned early by Senators George Aiken and Ralph Flanders of Vermont.

In 1953, the Ground Observation Corps reestablished the sky observation posts in several area towns. Meetings were held with Air Force technicians training local observers from Bradford, Fairlee, Wells River and East Topsham, “together with other patriotic citizens who wish to aid.” An appeal for volunteers read: “We are in a dangerous position. In a period of international strife and lawlessness, we stand as the bulwark of freedom. The next time an aggressor strikes, he will strike at us to try and eliminate us so that he can go on to conquer the world.”

In June 1954, there was a 48-hour test of these local defenses against enemy attack. This was part of a nationwide Operation Sky Scan to determine the capabilities of the observers in detecting invading planes. Bombers from Grenier AFB in Manchester took the part of enemy planes, flying low over the area. This test was followed by a more wide-ranging exercise a week later with local police and firemen stopping traffic, getting people off the streets and dealing with “simulated casualties.”

As each nation stockpiled its nuclear arms the policy of “mutually assured destruction” (MAD) meant that a nuclear war would be one without winners. Apocalyptic novels and films such as Tomorrow (1954), On the Beach (1957) and Alas, Babylon (1959) brought home the fears of nuclear annihilation. Children who grew up in that period reported recurring nightmares of invasion and war. The Cuban Missile Crisis of October 1962 heightened the possibility of nuclear Armageddon. There was a run on local stores as residents’ stockpiled necessities. Members of my college fraternity went home, saying that if war was imminent, they wanted to be with their families.

This was an era that more than half of us know only as history. However, on September 11, 2001, the feelings of alarm were again brought home. The nation was under attack and for a time, we did not know the extent of those attacks. Since then, national security, code alerts, and terrorist plots have increased latent fears for our personal and national safety.

Do these fears replicate for local citizens the fears felt by earlier residents who knew danger lurked in the forests surrounding their small settlements, or the fears from German bombers in 1942 or the nightmares of nuclear annihilation? That is a question each individual must answer. And it is not a question that will go away any time soon.

Let's Go To The Movies

Movie Theatres came and went. This photo shows the Bradford Theatre sometime between the

time it closed in 1956 and when it burned in 1959. The adjacent building housed Stuart's Restaurant. (Photo: John Fatherly/Bradford Historical Society)

In this hall on the second floor of the Fairlee (VT) Town Hall, movies were being shown from 1914 to the mid-1950's. On June 22, 1950, during the second showing on the second night of the newly-opened theatre, a fire broke out in the projection booth. Only the quick action of the projectionist and the Fairlee firemen saved the building.

Richard Henderson moved his movie theatre to the Henderson Block on Central Street in Woodsville, NH in 1914. He showed some of the first "talkies" at this 529-seat theatre in the late 1920's. In 1931, it was purchased by the Tegu family and operated as Tegu's Orpheum.

(Photo:Gary Chamberlin)

The Opera House on Central Street in Woodsville, NH was built in 1890 and films began to be show there from 1901 to the mid-40s. Its ads described it as "The Theatre With the Perfect Sound."

In 1921, George Jenkins bought the Village Hall and renamed it the Colonial Theatre. It operated until 1948. During the Great Depression and World War II it provided movie-goers with an inexpensive diversion from the issues of the day. (Photo: Bradford Historical Society)





The Bradford Theatre, located at the north end of the Bradford village business district opened on July 16, 1949 in a 500-seat Quonset type building. It closed in early 1956 and the shuttered building was completely destroyed by fire on January 18, 1959. (Photo: Bradford Historical Society)

Journal-Opinion, November 17, 2010

For over a century, we have loved going to the movies. The Smithsonian Institute attributes that love affair with motion picltures to their, “power to both mirror and manipulate, to blur fact and fiction, to romanticize, to vilify, [and] to enlighten.” This column describes the history of area movie theatres. The content is drawn from town histories, The United Opinion and interviews with theatre owners, employees and patrons.

Three inventions in the late 19th century made motion pictures possible. The combination of the motion picture camera, transparent roll film and the projector made the screen come alive with activity. Short, black and white films at first supplemented and then replaced vaudeville and song slide presentations. They were silent, but exaggerated gestures, subtitles and a musical score played by local musicians conveyed the plot. “Talkies” were introduced in the late 1920’s with early colored films produced in the next decade.

One of the earliest attempts at putting sound on film was Lee DeForest’s Phonofilm. One of his first films featured Charles Ross Taggart in The Old Country Fiddler at the Singing School, produced in 1923. Taggart grew up in Topsham and lived in Bradford and Newbury. According to Adam Boyce, who portrays Taggart in local appearances, Taggart’s performance as a fiddler and humorist was widely popular on the lyceum and Chautauqua circuits.

According to Katharine Blaisdell’s history of Haverhill, the first movies in Woodsville were shown by a man from St. Johnsbury. They were shown in Davidson Hall on Central Street in the early 1900's. From 1910 to 1914, Richard Henderson operated the Palace Theatre in the building that is now the bowling alley. He then moved to his newly-constructed Henderson Block which housed a 529-seat theatre along with a hotel and other businesses. According to The United Opinion, The Henderson Theatre was the first in the area to show “talkies” with a grand re-opening on May 15, 1929.

In 1931, the theatre was bought by the Tegu family and reopened as Tegu’s Orpheum. Over the next few years they renovated the theatre. Blaisdell quotes theatre worker Frank Millette who recalled a packed house for both shows on Saturday night. “Sunday movies were frowned on at first, but eventually the public relaxed their scruples.” In 1950 WMTW-TV began broadcasting, a death knell to the theatre.



Gerry Sulham of Wells River recalls that in the 1950’s there were still no movie theatres in that village because they could just go across the bridge to Woodsville. She said that she would go with a “gang” of girls and often sat in front of a similar group of boys “who would throw popcorn at us.” After the show they went to the Happy Hour for a hot dog, fries and a coke. She remembers the special film presentation of Queen Elizabeth’s wedding and coronation. Others recall going to the theatre at Christmas for a free movie and a small gift. Garnett Hebb of Newbury said that going to the movies was a favorite option for an evening’s outing.

The Orpheum was in competition with the Opera House just down the street. It also had 600 seats and like other area theatres, alternated live performances with motion pictures. It advertised itself as “the Theatre With the Perfect Sound” with an “Electrical Ventilating System Just Installed for Your Comfort.” This theatre continued until about 1940 and the Orpheum held on until 1955. Nearby, weekly movies were shown in Pike Hall during the Twenties. The village was abuzz in 1922 at the showing of the sensuous film The Sheik , starring heart-throb Rudolph Valentino.

Smaller towns in the area that lacked a formal theatre were served by projectionist who traveled through the area. In the Lyme book, We Had Each Other, Ken Uline recalls that a man who operated a Fairlee movie theatre would bring his films to Lyme and other towns like Orford and Warren where there was a hall.

In Fairlee, movies began to be shown in the upstairs hall of the new town hall in 1914. In 1925, the management was taken over by Charles Thurber and John Munn. The Fairlee history mentions: “Many have fond memories throughout the ensuing years of the hard seats, the dashing heroes with their beautiful heroines, the piano played by Miss Wynona Bogle to set the proper mood, and the lovely hand-painted scene of Lake Morey on the screen.”

The Fairlee Theatre was purchased by Harold Smalley in July 1931 and was renamed The Star Theatre, a title that had been used sometime earlier. It advertised movies like Arizona with John Wayne, described as: “Thrills of the Gridiron and Army Post in a Throbbing Heart-Interest Story.” The theatre featured a Western Electric Sound System and had two shows nightly, except for Sunday. In her memoirs, Hazel Donnelly of Orford recalled walking over the bridge to the movies in Fairlee. The theatre continued to operate through World War Two, but closed sometime thereafter.

Probably the most exciting night at the movies in Fairlee was June 22, 1950.
The theatre had been re-opened by Harry Hudson of Randolph. He had purchased new projection and sound equipment and, according to a note in The United Opinion, promised “movie entertainment on a par with that seen in any large town or city.” The opening feature was Sierra with Audie Murphy. However, during the second night of the new theatre, a fire broke out in the projection booth. Paul Sargent of Fairlee, who was 13 years old at the time, recalls that he and his friend Freddie Hayward were ushers that night. The two young ushers flung open the doors, but panic broke out as patrons rushed from the second floor hall. The fast response of projectionist Ray Foote and the Fairlee firemen saved the hall from extensive damage. The hall was repaired and films were shown from time to time through the mid-50's.

As with other towns, motion pictures in Bradford were preceded by live performances and illustrated songs. The latter involved slides with a singer and accompanist. The first motion pictures, according to Bradford historian Harold Haskins, were shown around 1908 at the Village Hall, now the Old Church Theatre. In 1914, Doe Brothers store in Bradford gave away free tickets to the movies with a three dollar purchase. The showing of “The Birth of a Nation” in 1915 included a 10-piece orchestra and a chorus, “while several beautiful girls acted as ushers to furnish local color.” All seats for the three evening performances were sold out in advance. In each town a teenager was secured to make the appropriate noise to replicate the sound of the gunshot that killed President Lincoln.  (Pat Hill of Woodsville was the selected youth there.)

On October 13, 1921 George Jenkins bought the Village Hall, and renamed it the Colonial Theatre. It was showing films at least three nights each week in 1929. It was at that time that a rumor was circulated that Charles Barton might create a movie theatre on the second floor of his newly-purchased building on Main Street. In a newspaper article in which Barton denied the rumor, the editor wrote, “Bradford is too small to support two movie theatres” and credited the Colonial with “giving our movie lovers very attractive programs.“

Mable Humphrey of Bradford often provided accompaniment for the silent films. Her daughter, Katherine Thibault said that her mother was so accomplished that she didn’t need the score and, using either the piano or violin, set the right mood for the action on the screen.

Joining Mable was Lucia Davis, also of Bradford. In a 2011 interview, Mrs. Davis recalled that Mable often played the violin while she played the panio. Davis also played the violin. She said that local musicians from the audience sometimes join in. She said that when scores were not provided with the film, the musicians would "make up the music."

That came to an end with the introduction of “talkies” in the late 1920’s. In May 1931, the Colonial Theatre re-opened with a newly installed sound system. “Fighting Caravans” with Gary Cooper was the main feature, preceded by a brief band concert and followed by “selected short features.” Admission was 35 cents for adults and 20 cents for children under 12.

The Colonial Theatre continued to show movies almost year-round through the Great Depression and World War II. For the relatively small price of admission, viewers could escape the realities of everyday life through screwball comedies or trips of fantasy or adventures. During the war, films took on the added tasks of raising morale and patriotism and informing the public about the reasons for the conflict. Two features shown in both Bradford and Fairlee in the Spring of 1943 reflect these tasks. In Hitler’s Children, viewers were shown the brutality of living in a fascist dictatorship. The second was Stand By For Action with Robert Taylor and Charles Laughton, “a smashing saga of the sea, teeming with battle thrills of timely significance and brings before the wartime public a graphic portrayal of heroism and tradition.”

In 1949, the old Colonial Theatre, which had been closed for over a year, was replaced. The Bradford Theatre, owned by Dr. Leonard Abbadessa, opened its doors on July 16, 1949 in a 500-seat Quonset-type building. Located just north of the present business district, itt was described as follows: “The lobby, opening onto Main street, has the box office on one side and doors leading to a foyer, where there is a pop corn machine and candy counter. Retiring rooms are adjacent.” The theatre itself featured seats with red plush backs and leatherette seats on a concave floor “as to give every seat a clear view of the screen from the proper angle.”

Robert Nutting of Bradford worked at the theatre in the mid-1950‘s when it was part of the Tegu chain of theatres and managed by Charles Bigelow. He said that the biggest draw was for westerns featuring actors such as Roy Rogers or Hopalong Cassidy. I personally remember going to that theatre, sliding down behind the seat in front while watching Headhunters of the Amazon, singing along with the bouncing ball, mesmerized by heroic adventure or being enticed to come back by the previews of coming attractions.

Nutting recalls that by early 1956 attendance had dwindled. He said that on the night when the two evening show had a total attendance of ten, owner Pete Tegu announced, “We’re out of here tonight.” The building remained shuttered until it was destroyed by fire on January 18, 1959.

Better television reception and the opening of three drive-in theatres hastened the decline of area movie houses. The Tegu’s Drive-in opened in May, 1953 in Woodsville. It had a capacity of 450 cars. In 1954, according to Blaisdell, the Tegus “donated one night’s entire receipts from both the Orpheum and the drive-in to the Cottage Hospital Building fund.” About 1998, owners Lee and Janet Tegu added a second screen and continued to draw large crowds for first run films at what then was called the Meadows Drive-In. After 2004, it closed and was demolished.

The Starlite Drive-In opened in lower Orford in the early 50’s. It was operated by Leighton and Shirley Godfrey of Fairlee. Mrs. Godfrey recently said that while she had sold tickets as a young woman at the Bradford theatre, the drive-in was really “Leighton’s project.” Using skills learned in Chicago, he managed the theatre and served as its projectionist. It continued to operate until the late 60’s and has also been demolished.

The Holiday Park Drive-in was opened in Fairlee in 1950 by Reginald and Terri Drowns of Barre. Shows started at dusk and admission was $1 per car. I recall opening night because our car was the first one turned away from the free admission grand opening with its capacity crowd.  Around 1960, a motel was added, allowing guests to watch the films from their rooms. Robert Nutting worked at the theatre for 25 years in several capacities. He says that Drowns had his own censorship practices and would physically cut objectionable scenes or swear words, splicing the film afterward. Drowns also maintained a “heads above the steering wheel” rule and was known to interrupt young lovers who violated it. The theatre is still in operation under different management.

Today, viewers have the choice of multi-channel cable television, access to films on the internet or by mail and movie palaces featuring plush seating, surround sound, 3D screens, high definition projection and multiple choices. But these modern choices may still not dull the fond memories of the theatres mentioned above. Going to the movies as a youngster was a special treat. Taking your date made the darkened movie theatre a special place. The films opened your world in a special way. And those memories are treasures very special.

Damming the Falling Waters

Glacial Lake Hitchcock was formed behind a giant earthen dam at Rocky Hill, Connecticut about 15,000 years ago. Before it drained away about 3,000 years later it had reshaped the valley for almost two hundred miles upstream. (Map Umass Geoscience)

The mill pictured above and the two below are typical of the many mills located on the streams, rivers and lake outlets of the region. The one above is the Sanborn mill established in1876 on the Grant Brook in Lyme Center. (Lyme Historians)

The dam on this Lyme mill is a log dam. Logs of this type were hauled to tanneries

and the bark was used for hide processing. (Lyme Historians)

This tannery was established in 1846 by S. W. Balch and is located

on Grant Brook in Lyme. (Lyme Historians)

The falls at Boltonville on the Wells River was one of the significant sources of hydropower in the area. The river falls about 60 feet in a distance of about 130 feet. The first mill was build at this site in 1775 by the Scots-American Company of Ryegate.

There were three log or timber dams on the falls of the Waits River in Bradford. Pictured above is a repair crew working on the flume that leads to one of the factories near the second falls (c. 1880's) Bradford Historical Society
The Comerford Dam in North Monroe/East Barnet was constructed between 1928 and 1930. Up to 2700 men worked on the project, with crews working around the clock. A village was created to house and feed the men.
The completed Comerford dam was the first stage in the development of the
Fifteen Mile Falls area of the Connecticut River






This bronze plaque recalls that the dam was named in honor of Frank D. Comerford,




President of the New England Power Associaton at the time of its construction. These next photos were on Wednesday, Sept.15, 2010 during a tour of the dam. Staff member ScottFullam, Control Technician, was my very helpful tour guide.







"The Button"




In the lobby of the Cumerford Dam power station is mounted the button President Hoover pushed to activate the dam. The inscription reads: "By pressing this button, set up in the telegraph room of the White House in Washington, Herbert Hoover, President of the United




States , at 10:30 A.M. on September 30, 1930, placed Cumerford Station in operation. The impulse from the President's finger, traveling 700 miles over a special telephone circuit, opened the turbine gates and set no. 2 generator in operation."





This is the channel in the Connecticut River downstream from the Comerford dam.





The downstream face of the dam shows the "jersey barrier" type




supports that hold the dam in place.

As printed in Journal-Opinion
September 15, 2010.

Fifteen thousand years ago, the retreating glaciers deposited a giant dam near Rocky Hill, Connecticut. A huge lake, known as Lake Hitchcock, extended 200 miles up the river to present-day St. Johnsbury. By the time the dam gave way about 12,000 years ago, it had given a new shape and fertility to the Connecticut River Valley.

Within the heritage of the Abenaki, who peopled this valley before the coming of the Europeans, are legends of Odzihozo, the earth-shaper and Ktsi Amiskw, the Great Beaver.

This Great Beaver held back the waters of the Kwanitekw, or the Connecticut. But a cousin of Odzihozo broke the back of the beaver and released the captive waters.

On September 30, 1930, President Herbert Hoover pressed a button in the White House and one of the turbines in a newly-constructed dam on the Connecticut River between East Barnet and North Monroe began to produce electricity that was sent to southern New England.

On Saturday, September 18, the Third Annual Local Energy Alternatives Festival will be held in Bradford. Organized by the Energy Committee of the Bradford Conservation Commission along with others, it will be dedicated to, “renewable energy, sustainable living, local food production, transition to a world without oil and re-skilling.” A tour of the hydro-electric station at the dam on the Waits River is just one of the activities.

Taking its lead from these four events, this column deals with the history of dams in our area. In addition to standard local histories, it takes information from Where the Great River Rises, published by the Connecticut River Joint Commissions and From the Rivers by John T. Landry and Jeffrey L. Cruikshank.

Runoff from ample rainfall flows down the rocky foothills of the Green and White Mountains into the valley, creating rapidly flowing streams and numerous waterfalls. Ponds and lakes release their overflows down outlets to rivers into the Connecticut. Where hydropower was created by flowing and falling waters, the earliest settlers established their homes. The building of mills to grind grain and saw lumber was of primary importance.

For many of these mills, dams enhanced the available power. Some of these were rudimentary dams that sometimes didn’t survive the spring freshets. Others were stout wooden frameworks of logs or timbers filled with earth and stone. Where there were rock outcrops, these dams might be secured by iron spikes. Norman Smith’s History of Dams explains that the upstream wall might be sloped, “causing the pressure of the water to stabilize the dam and hold the facing materials in place…the air face was vertical so that the overflow fell straight.”

Some dams operated on a “store-and-release” principle, storing water until it was needed. Other mills operated with natural flow or “run-of-the river” design. In many cases, the mills were “high water mills” that operated only portions of the year. Dams on navigated rivers had to “include canals and locks for passage of lumber and farm products.” Water was transferred to a mill’s waterwheel by a sluice or canal to a gate that regulated the flow.

The power of the rushing or falling water was harnessed by means of waterwheels. “Protruding boards on these wheels, called ‘buckets,’ caught the downward pressure of waterfalls, turning the wheel and rotating the attached power shaft.” Wheels were of different designs with water being caught at the top, middle or bottom of the wheel.

Each town’s local history chronicles the many mills and dams located on the lakes, rivers
and streams of its community. There were as many as 50 water wheels on the Ompompanoosuc and its tributaries. At one time or another, there were a similar number on Jacob’s Brook in Orford. Wherever there was flowing water, small industrial sites developed.

Some of these include Post Mills and the other villages of Thetford, Waits River and the other villages of Topsham, East Corinth, East Ryegate, Wells River and the other valley villages of Newbury, Woodsville and the other villages of Haverhill and all along the brooks of Lyme, Piermont and Orford.

Dams were also located at the outlets on lakes such as Lake Fairlee, Morey, Tarleton and Ricke and Halls as well as Ticklenaked Pond. In addition to providing power for mills, these dams regulated the level of the lakes. Many lakes and ponds still rely on dams for that purpose.

In addition to grist and saw mills, the early water wheels ground clover and linseeds for oil; turned lathes that fashioned chairs and bobbins; powered machines that made fishing poles, paper, shingles, boxes and clothes pins. They pressed fruit for cider and jelly. Electricity was generated at Woodsville on the Ammonoosuc and at Thetford Center at the Great Falls of the Ompompanoosuc.

The falls in the Waits River at Bradford and the Boltonville Falls on the Wells River have been two of the most significant sites for power production on tributaries of the Connecticut. The first mills at Boltonville were built in 1775 by the Scots-American Company of Ryegate. Katharine Blaisdell’s Over the River and Through the Years describes the development of the river, which, at Boltonville, falls about 60 feet in a distance of about 130 feet. In 1909, the Ryegate Light and Power Company built a power plant at the foot of the second falls. Damaged by the 1927 flood, the dam was repaired and continued operation until the 1950’s, when the plant was severely damaged by lightning.

In 1772, John Peters built the first mill at the falls in Bradford. It was a grist mill
located just south of the Route 5 bridge. Two years later, Benjamin Baldwin built a sawmill at the third falls near the present Bradford Veneer and Panel Company. In 1847, Asa Low built the brick grist mill that stands at the entrance to Bradford village. Other mills, including Low’s large paper mill, stood on the west side of the river and used water from three dams to power their machines.

At the1847 grist mill, the water was carried from the fall by a wooden flume under the bridge into the basement of the mill. The water turned a large water wheel and then returned to the river. The interior location, common in many northern mills, prevented the wheel from freezing in cold weather. In 1897, the Bradford Electric Light Company began to use the old gristmill for the production of electricity and in 1902, built a stone arch dam at the middle falls. This dam was built from cut stones remaining from Low’s destroyed paper mill. The height of the dam was raised in 1921 with a 16-foot concrete section.

In 1972, the hydroelectric dam had become silted and damage to the main turbine caused the plant to be closed. In August, 1981, Central Vermont Power Company spent $3.5 million to rebuild the dam and powerhouse. Presently, it has the capacity to produce 1,500 kilowatt-hours of generated electricity. One of the activities of Saturday’s LEAF Festival will be a tour of the adjacent power station.

As has been stated before, on September 30, 1930, what is now known as the Comerford Dam in North Monroe was officially set into operation. Begun in 1928, the project employed up to 2,700 men, with crews working around the clock. It was built in cooperation with the New England Power Association which had begun to acquire land and water rights on both sides of the river several years earlier.

United Opinion articles at the time described the dam as “the largest hydro-electric plant ever built in New England.” It was the first phase of the mammoth Fifteen Mile Falls development, and it rose 175 feet above the river bed and stretched 2,253 feet from shore to shore. It had the largest concrete retaining wall ever built in the United States and each of its four turbines were capable of developing 54,000 horsepower of electricity. The electricity was sent by newly-constructed steel tower lines to Massachusetts, thus saving an estimated 200,000 tons of coal annually.

President Hoover’s role was particularly appropriate because, as Secretary of Commerce and chairman of a special government commission that was studying the “super-power” resources of the northeastern section of the country, he had visited New England. The commission’s report highlighted the need to develop the hydroelectric potential of the Connecticut generally and the Fifteen Mile Falls specifically. In that section of the Connecticut, the river drops 367 feet in elevation and, “for centuries the 400,000 horse power… was running wastefully to the sea.”


The other two dams in the Fifteen Mile Falls project are the McIndoes Station in Monroe, completed in 1931, and the Moore Station in 1957. The latter is located south of Littleton, N.H, and is the largest of the three with an output of 190,000 kilowatts. Together the three dams “comprise the largest hydroelectric generating complex in New England.”

The last significant project on the Connecticut in our region was the rebuilding of Wilder Dam(1950-1952) at the Wilder Falls. The first dam was built in 1882, slightly north at the Olcott Falls. That dam was of timber-crib construction with a concrete dam added in 1926. It had initially been built to supply water power to a paper mill, with hydroelectricity capacity added later. The mill closed in 1927.

A new dam was proposed in 1944, but local opponents such as Henry W. Keyes Jr. of North Haverhill, fought its construction in a protracted legal battle. They pointed out that the increased height of the proposed dam, and the resulting lake, would flood thousands of acres of prime farmland. Despite these concerns, some of which have proven accurate, the dam was completed. Prior to the construction of the dam, one could see the middle rock base for the Fairlee-Orford covered bridge as a small island south of the present bridge. As a result of the higher level of water, it no longer can be seen even in the most prolonged drought. The resulting lake with its flood control capability has made possible riverside homes and river recreation unknown in the 1950’s. In 2017, all four of these modern dams were purchased by Boston-based Great River Hydro from TransCanada Hydro Northeast. The State of Vermont had looked into buying 13 hydroelectric stations from TransCanada by ArcLight Capital Partners, owners of Great River was more aggressive in their bidding.



Following the devastating floods of 1927 and 1936, a different type of dam was built.
Specifically designed for flood-control, they remain generally empty during most of the time. Three such dams are the ones at East Barre, Union Village and North Hartland.

The mighty dams on the Connecticut are the modern descendants of the mammoth glacial dam of Lake Hitchcock and, perhaps, even the giant dam created by the legendary Great Beaver. With their huge artificial mounds of rock, flooded acres and altered riverbanks, they are like Odzihozo, the earth-shaper. Dams have created the industrial and recreational bases of towns and villages throughout our region and continue to give electrical lifeblood to our modern way of life. Water controlled behind dams throughout the valley means a constant supply of drinking water for people and animals and water with which to fight fires. The water that would otherwise flood homes is held in check.

The power from the hydroelectric dams free industry from being located only on the banks of rivers and streams. Whether small or large, whether the water released from them turn waterwheels or turbines, they represent the renewable energy being celebrated by the LEAF Festival this weekend. For nearly 250 years, dams have taken the power of rushing water, increased its natural power and used it over and over again as it flows to the sea.

Slavery: A Crime Against Humanity

The Presbyterian Church in East Topsham was one of the local churches of that denomination that included many abolition sympathizers. Their pastor, the Rev. R.N. Johnston, took an early and active stance for abolition. William Lloyd Garrison, pictured below, once spoke there "to a crowded hours." (Journal-Opinion photo)

William Lloyd Garrison (1805-1879), a major spokesman for the abolitionist

movement and publisher of the abolitionist magazine The Liberator
"The Negro Woman's Appeal to Her White Sisters" ca. 1850.
This type opf abolitonist material aimed to appeal to women as wives
and mothers for the plight of slaves separated from their families. (Library of Congress)



Alexander Twilight, born in Corinth, Vermont in 1795, became the first African-
American to graduate from an American college (Middlebury) and the first of his race to
serve in a state legislature. His lasting contribution was a teacher and headmaster of the
Orleans County Grammar School in Brownington, Vermont.


(Library of Congress)


Published in the Journal-Opinion, August 25, 2010





“Born of a resistance to arbitrary power—her first breath that of freedom—her first voice a declaration of the equal rights of man— how could her people be otherwise than haters of slavery—how can they do less than sympathize with every human being and every community which asserts the rights of all men to blessings like their own?”

This is how, in 1855, the Vermont Senate explained the strong stand taken by many Vermonters against slavery in America. As we approach the 150th anniversary of the beginning of the Civil War, this column examine the way Vermonters struggled with America’s “peculiar institution.”

Slaves from Africa were first brought to Virginia in 1619. By the time the union was formed there were slaves in all the states. Slavery was the basis of the economy in southern regions, and it was a contentious issue. Slavery’s importance was reflected in the compromises written into the Constitution. But, not in Vermont. When it adopted its constitution in July 1777, Vermont declared adult slavery unlawful.

As there was a negligible black population, this significant action was easy. Randolph Roth, who has written on both the subject of abolition and the Connecticut River Valley, estimates that approximately 250 blacks lived in the valley in the late 1700’s. Some were free and others held as slaves. The 1790 census recorded four slaves held in Haverhill, three in Orford and two in Piermont. It also listed a small number of “non-white free persons.” The 1791 Vermont census listed as free, Jeptha Sharp of Bradford, George Knox of Thetford, Jeremiah Virginia of Newbury and other African-American area residents.

Some of these were active leaders in their communities. Jeptha Sharp was among those Bradford residents, who in 1796, petitioned the state to create Vermont’s first incorporated library. Alexander Twilight, born in 1795 in Corinth, was the first African-American to graduate from an American college and the first to serve in a state legislature. His lasting contribution was as a teacher and headmaster at the Orleans County Grammar School in Brownington, Vermont. His lasting monument is the large granite hall he built with his own hands for the school’s expanding student population.

While both Vermont’s dedication to equality and individuality, (and its small black population), are important reasons for the growth of the abolition movement, the lack of shipping interests involved in the slave trade or commercial dealings with the South were contributing factors.

The first organized effort in Vermont to deal with the issue of slavery was the formation of the Vermont Colonization Society in 1818. Its members held that the cure to the “heavy curses” of slavery was to purchase slaves from their masters and send them back to Africa. Believing that whites and blacks could not mix in society, they feared a “dreadful collision” between the two races.

Rev. Silas McKeen of Bradford was active in the Society. In a sermon delivered at their meeting in Montpelier in October, 1828, he reviewed the success of the national effort in establishing Liberia on the west coast of Africa and the settling there of 1200 free blacks. He extolled the valuable influence of this Christian colony on the rest of Africa’s “moral desert.”

McKeen hoped that these efforts might awaken a “slumbering conscience” in slave holders. As a result, Southerners would recognize that the “intolerable burden and curse” of slavery could be “taken off their hands” as freed blacks were restored to freedom in Africa. He predicted that unless this effort was successful, the “impending doom” of God’s wrath would descend upon the nation.

For other Vermonters, the only solution to the curse of slavery was immediate emancipation. This more radical movement found its voice in the Vermont Anti-Slavery Society, organized in 1834. With great zeal, its members criticized both slavery and the racist “gradualism” of the colonizationists. William Lloyd Garrison of Boston was its primary spokesman.

Strident voices raised the level of reaction to the abolitionist movement. Abolitionist attacks on the Constitution led to fears among many for the union it created. Commercial interests feared for interruption of trade and the loss of rights to private property. Abolitionists’ connections with other reform movements, such as women’s rights and the prohibition of alcohol, caused additional opposition. There is no doubt that some Vermonters feared the impact of a free black population.

In 1835, Congressman William Slade of Vermont reflected this hesitancy with the following statement: ”I believe the immediate and unqualified abolition of slavery to be inconsistent with a just regard, both of the best interest of the community, and the highest welfare of the slaver.” In later years, he became an advocate of immediate emancipation.

In 1835 two incidents in the area reflected that opposition. They are described in the Vermont History article “Racism in Antebellum Vermont” by John M. Lovejoy. In September, an itinerant abolitionist lecturer was driven from a Bradford lectern by a mob with the use of a fire pump. He had chosen to speak despite appeals that it would “only agitate the subject.”

In November, Rev. George Storrs of the New Hampshire Anti-Slavery Society spoke at the Methodist Church in Newbury. “A number of men and boys gathered in and outside the chapel making speeches, talking loudly about maintaining the Constitution and the Union. They did their best to disrupt the event, hollering, ringing the bell, breaking a panel on the front door, and throwing brickbats. But Storrs prevailed, raising his voice loudly when the occasion called for it.”

While three of these rioters were arrested and fined for disruption of the free speech rights of Rev. Storrs, there seems little doubt that many Vermonters agreed with them. Wells’ History of Newbury mentions, that in 1842, many at the Newbury Seminary objected to the admission of a black student as, “it was held by a large portion of the public to be a sin and a crime to teach a colored person to read and write.”

In the late 1830’s and 40’s, national events increased support for the abolition movement. Since Vermont’s and Kentucky’s entrance into the Union, there was a pattern of balancing new states between free and slave. From the beginning of the nation’s expansion, there was more agreement in Vermont against the spread of slavery than there was over what should be done with it. Territorial gains from the acquisition of Texas, the Mexican War, and “schemes for the acquisition of Cuba” raised fears among otherwise conservative residents of the area.

When, in 1850, Congress passed the Fugitive Slave Act designed to punish those who harbored slaves with imprisonment and fines, Vermonters declared any slave brought into the state would be free. This was an extension of the 1804 statement by Judge Harrington of Middlebury who declared that “slave ownership would only be recognized by a bill of sale for the slave signed by Almighty God, Himself.” Numerous petitions and legislative resolutions from Vermont so outraged many in the South that one Georgia Senator suggested that a ditch be dug around Vermont so that it could be floated into the Atlantic.

Runaway slaves found refuge and work among area residents. The sewing circle of the Topsham church wrote the following: “We want to give the little money we raised, in such way that the fugitives who are really needy, will be befitted.” Tradition holds that there were a number of stations along the Underground Railroad in towns bordering the Connecticut. Modern research suggests that the notions of danger and secrecy are exaggerated and “that actual aid to fugitives was provided casually if not haphazardly and often delivered quite openly.”

The battle between the two major anti-slavery groups caused turmoil between and within the major Protestant churches of Vermont. Congregational ministers generally supported the colonization even as a growing number in their membership joined many Baptists, Methodists and Presbyterians in supporting the more radical abolitionists. With time, some Congregationalists abandoned their earlier stance. This change is reflected in an 1856 Thanksgiving sermon preached at Lyme by Erdix Tenny, entitled “American Slavery: Not Sanctioned by the Bible.”

The Rev. Orange Scott of Newbury was one Methodist minister who worked to persuade his denomination to “embrace immediate emancipation.” Both abolitionist groups used Christianity to justify their stance, an appeal that had less effect on the unchurched.

Two of the most active ministers in the cause were Rev. James Milligan, of Ryegate and Barnet and Rev. R. N. Johnston of Topsham. Both served Presbyterian churches, a denomination that took an early and active stance for abolition. Milligan toured the area lecturing for the “immediate, unconditional abolition of slavery and the full integration of Afro-Americans into American society.” He joined Storrs in facing down the Newbury mob in 1835.

Johnston served the Topsham church from 1851 to 1866. According to Roth, Johnston both gave anti-slavery lectures and arranged lecturing tours that “opened the way for old anti-slavery apostles.” On one of these occasions, William Lloyd Garrison lectured in Topsham, “to a crowded house, for almost all classes of people were curious if not anxious to hear the great Abolitionists.”

Topsham Sketches states that Johnston’s activities “roused not only the ire of some of the members of his church but of people in neighboring towns and several times he received threats against his life. A placard was hung on “the church by some pro-slavers which read ‘Death to traitors and nigger preachers.’” He wrote on one occasion that he was warned that a mob of 50 men from Corinth and Bradford was coming to do him harm. Johnston was also involved in two anti-slavery conventions held in Bradford in 1858 and 1860. At those meetings, conflicts continued to erupt between “every shade” of anti-slavery advocates.

By the time these conventions were held, the abolition movement was having a major impact on Vermont’s political parties. In 1854, Vermonters began to abandon the Democratic and Whig parties and embraced the newly formed Republican Party. The Republicans held Vermont’s loyalty until 1964, the longest single-party state control in American history.

By 1860, the issue of slavery had created an “insolvable dilemma” that tore the nation apart. The Republican candidate in the election of 1860 was Abraham Lincoln. Lincoln held more moderate views on slavery than the radical abolitionists and Vermonters gave him three-quarters of their votes. When in 1861, Vermonters responded to Father Abraham’s call for troops, the main motive was not to abolish slavery, but to restore the union.

In 1863, Lincoln signed the Emancipation Proclamation giving freedom to those slaves being held in the 10 rebellious states. In 1865, at the conclusion of the Civil War, the 13th Amendment was adopted, officially abolishing slavery in America.

Tragically, it was not the end of involuntary servitude, which still exists in America. In April, Governor Douglas signed into law a bill establishing a task force to recommend actions to the Legislature to deal with the issues of human trafficking. In doing so, Vermont joins most other states in addressing this issue. To rephrase the 1855 statement: How could Vermonters be otherwise than haters of slavery—how can they do less than sympathize with every human being and every community which asserts the rights of all people to blessings like their own?