February 19, 1890.] 



Garden and Forest. 



87 



the White Pine is met with all along shore north of New Jersey, 

 the Red Pine first appears by Massachusetts Bay and the Gray 

 Pine by Mt. Desert. The Arbor-vita? is first met with near 

 the Kennebec. The Balsam Fir and the Black and White 

 Spruces show themselves on no coasts south of Cape Ann, and 

 do not abound until Cape Elizabeth is passed. It is the black- 

 ness of these dwarf coniferous woods which, with the desola- 

 tion of the surf-beaten ledges and the frequent coming of the 

 fog, impresses the traveler with the fact that this is a really 

 wild and sub-arctic shore, where strange red-men's names 

 for islands, capes and rivers — names such as Medomak, Mus- 

 congus, Pemaquid, Megunticook, Eggemoggin, Moosabec and 

 Schoodic — seem altogether fitting. 



The human story of the coast of Maine is almost as pictur- 

 esque and varied as its scenery. This coast was first fre- 

 quented by stray French fishing vessels, and first scientifically 

 explored by Samuel de Champlain, whose narrative of his 

 adventures is still delightful reading. Fruitless attempts at 

 settlement followed, led by French knights at Saint Croix, by 

 English cavaliers at Sagadahock and by French Jesuits at Mt. 

 Desert ; all of them years in advance of the English Colony of 

 New Plymouth. Then followed a long period of fishing and 

 fur trading, during which Maine belonged to neither New 

 France nor New England, and a genuine border warfare was 

 the result. Two rival Frenchmen also fought and besieged 

 each other in truly feudal fashion at Penobscot and Saint John. 

 Again, while the long French and Indian wars lasted, this 

 coast saw more fighting. The older settlements west of Cape 

 Elizabeth were sacked several times, and even the English 

 stronghold at Pemaquid was captured ; but the forest allies of 

 the French Baron Saint Castin were beaten in the end. The 

 numerous French names for points on the eastern coast bear 

 witness to the long French occupation; as for instance, Grand 

 and Petit Manan, Bois Bubert, Monts Deserts and Isle au 

 Hault, and Burnt Coat, apparently English, but really a mis- 

 translation of the French Cote Brule". 



No Englishmen settled beyond Penobscot until after the 

 capture of Quebec ; and when they did, they, as Yankees, had 

 to take part in still more fighting in the wars of the Revolution 

 and of 1812. The settlers first fished and hunted, then.cut hay 

 on the salt marshes and timber in the great woods, and in 

 later years took to ship building, and later still to stone quarry- 

 ing and ice harvesting, and, near Rockland, to lime burning. 

 These works are still the business of the coast. Even hunt- 

 ing is carried on at certain seasons in the eastern counties, 

 where deer are still numerous. All the large Pine and Spruce 

 of the shore woods have been cut ; but Bangor still sends 

 down Penobscot Bay a fleet of lumber schooners every time 

 the wind blows from the north ; and as for fishing, fleets 

 of more than two hundred graceful vessels may often be seen 

 in port together waiting the end of a storm. 



It was about i860 that what may be called the discovery of 

 the picturesqueness and the summer-time healthfulness of the 

 coast of Maine took place. Only the beaches of the western 

 quarter of the shore were at first occupied by hotels ; but when 

 the poor hamlet of Bar Harbor leaped into fame through the 

 resort to it of a few well known landscape painters, it became 

 evident that the whole coast was destined to be a much fre- 

 quented summer resort. At present, York, Kennebunkport, 

 Biddeford Pool and Old Orchard Beach, together with the 

 Cascb Islands, Booth Bay, Camden, Mt. Desert and Campo- 

 bello, are a few of the more populous neighborhoods ; but 

 summer hotels are now scattered all along the shore, and 

 colonies of summer villas of all grades of costliness occupy 

 many of the more accessible capes and islands. Thus there 

 are many cottages at York, and the islands near Portland are 

 fairly covered with cheap structures. Squirrel Island in Booth 

 Bay is another nest of small houses, and Bar Harbor is a sum- 

 mer city surrounded by a multitude of very costly and elabo- 

 rate wooden palaces. The finest parts of the coast are already 

 controlled by land companies and speculators, while the 

 natives' minds are inflamed by the high prices which the once 

 worthless shore lands are now supposed to command. 



The spectacle of thousands upon thousands of people able 

 to spend annually several weeks or months of summer in 

 healthful life by the sea-shore is very American and very 

 pleasant, and the impartial observer can find but two points 

 about it which are in any considerable degree discouraging or 

 dangerous. The lamentable feature of the situation is the 

 small amount of thought and attention given to considerations 

 of appropriateness and beauty by the builders and inhabitants 

 of the summer colonies of the coast. Indifference in these 

 matters works ill results everywhere, but nowhere is lack of 

 taste quite so conspicuous as on the sea-shore. Both corpora- 

 tions and individuals are guilty on this head. More than one 



booming land company has hastily divided and sold its rough 

 ledges in rectangular lots, whose lines bear no relation to the 

 forms of the ground, so that houses cannot be well placed. 

 The squalid aspect of the public parts of these settlements, the 

 shabby plank walks and the unkempt roadways, are other 

 causes of reproach. The houses themselves, if cheap, are too 

 often vulgarly ornamented, and if costly, are generally absurdly 

 pretentious. Even the government, which has lately been re- 

 building many of the light-house keepers' dwellings, has sub- 

 stituted for the simple, low and entirely fitting structures of a 

 former generation, a thin-walled and small-chimneyed type of 

 house, such as is common in the suburbs of our cities. One 

 of these perched on a sea cliff is an abomination, and might 

 well have illustrated the mournful remark of a recent writer in 

 the Atlantic Monthly, who pointed out that American indiffer- 

 ence to beauty cannot be caused by the newness of our civ- 

 ilization, for when this was still newer we built both more 

 appropriately and picturesquely than we commonly do now. 

 Again, in the treatment of the ground about their houses, 

 the millionaires of Bar Harbor are quite as apt to err as are the 

 humbler cottagers of Squirrel Island. Smooth lawns, made of 

 imported soil, and kept green only by continual watering, fur- 

 nish a means of displaying wealth, but they cannot be fit- 

 tingly united with scenery which is characterized by rough 

 ledges and scrubby woods. On this rough coast level grass 

 will please when it is joined to a house and enclosed by walls. 

 In the open ground it can hardly ever be in keeping- Similarly 

 incongruous are flower-beds scattered over rocky and uneven 

 ground, set between the trunks of Pitch Pines, or perched on 

 the tops of whaleback ledges; and yet such things are com- 

 mon sights at Bar Harbor. 



The real danger of the present situation is that this annual 

 flood of humanity, with its permanent structures for shelter, 

 may so completely overflow and occupy the limited stretch 

 of coast which it invades, as to rob it of that flavor of wildness 

 and remoteness which hitherto has hung about it, and which 

 in great measure constitutes its refreshing charm. A surf- 

 beaten headland may be crowned by a lighthouse tower with- 

 out losing its dignity and impressiveness, but it cannot be 

 dotted with frail cottages without suffering a woeful fall. A 

 lonely fiord shut in by dark woods, where the fog lingers in 

 wreaths, as it comes and goes, loses its charm whenever even 

 one bank is stripped naked, and streets of buildings are sub- 

 stituted for the Spruces and Pines. A few rich men, realizing 

 this danger, have surrounded themselves with considerable 

 tracts of land solely with the intention of preserving the 

 natural aspect; and at least one hotel company, by buying 

 almost the whole of the wild island of Campobello, has saved 

 for the patrons of its houses a large region of unspoiled 

 scenery. The readers of Garden and Forest stand in need of 

 no argument to prove the importance to human happiness of 

 that refreshing antidote to city life which fine natural scenery 

 supplies, nor is it necessary to remind them that love of beauty 

 and of art must surely die if it be cut at its roots by destroying 

 or vulgarizing the beauty of nature. " Men cannot love art well 

 until they love what she mirrors better," says Mr. Ruskin. 



The United States have but this one short stretch of Atlantic 

 sea-coast where a pleasant summer climate and real pictur- 

 esqueness of scenery are to be found together. Can nothing 

 be done to preserve for the use and enjoyment of the great 

 unorganized body of the common people some fine parts, at 

 least, of this sea-side wilderness of Maine ? It would seem as 

 if the mere self-interest of hotel proprietors and land-owners 

 would have accomplished much more in this direction than 

 it yet has. If, for instance, East Point near York, or Dice's 

 Head at Castine, or Great Head near Bar Harbor, should be 

 fenced off as private property, all the other property-owners 

 of the neighborhood would have to subtract something from 

 the value of their estates. And, conversely, if these or other 

 like points of vantage, or any of the ancient border forts, were 

 preserved to public uses by local associations or by the com- 

 monwealth, every estate and every form of property in the 

 neighborhood would gain in value. Public-spirited men would 

 doubtless give to such associations rights of way, and even 

 lands occasionally, and the raising of money for the purchase 

 of favorite points might not prove to be so difficult as at 

 first it seems. The present year should see, all up and down 

 the shore, the beginning of a movement in the direction here 

 indicated. In many parts of the coast it is full time decisive 

 action was taken, and if the State of Maine should by suitable 

 legislation encourage the formation of associations for the 

 purpose of preserving chosen parts of her coast scenery, 

 she would not only do herself honor, but would secure for the 

 future an important element in her material prosperity. 

 Boston. Charles Eliot. 



