Long Beach, Sabattus Lake, circa 1928
Photo submitted by Aaron White

 [a letter from a Sabattus resident, name unknown]

Sabattis, Feb. 9th, 1864

Dr. N.T. True - Dear Sir: - I know but little of the Aborigines that once inhabited the country, but I have been satisfied from early childhood that this place was a favorite locality with them. One reason why I think so is the number of tools that have been found of many shapes; some were fashioned like gorges, some something like an axe, and other forms, and all made of a peculiar kind of stone, different from and [un]common to this part of the country. They were even made of fine gritted stone, and were excellent for sharpening tools. I have found many of them myself and seen many that others have found, and I have often heard the remark that this vicinity must have been thickly inhabited by them, their implements were found in so plenty. Again, the land around the outlet and much of it on the west side on the pond, had been cleared before it was settled by the whites. In some places a second growth had sprung up, in others nothing remained but scattering oaks of large size. The lot, particularly that of Mr. Samuel Thompson settled, had been nearly all cleared at the time he came on it.

[Out of respect for our Abenaki friends and their ancestors - a section of this letter is intentionally left out, as it describes various graves which were found and disturbed.]

The pond was well stored with fish at the time the first settlements were made around it. Shad and salmon, before the dams were built, came into it, and I have heard some of the early settlers say that a boat-load of fish could be caught in a very short time, and I have seen a place, a few rods below the outlet of the pond, that was built, it was supposed, by the Indians, for the purpose of taking fish. It was built in the form of a V, with the point down stream, extended from shore to shore, and was formed of very large stones which must have taken the strength of many of them to move. It remained until a few years past, when it was removed to help construct a dam at the outlet of the pond. It has always been tradition around here that an Indian by the name of Sabattis had his home around the pond.

Giving thanks, before Thanksgiving
by John Gould
This is an article from NOVEMBER 19, 1999,
The Christian Science Monitor.

My first tale has nothing to do with Thanksgiving, because the holiday hadn't been invented then.

It was in the early days, and my great-grandfather was just a mite more than 18. Already married and the father of one, he put all he had into an ox cart and went inland from the seacoast of Maine to a rocky hillside to whittle out a farm and go down in the annals as a first settler. His name was Jacob.

His father was a housewright, and Jacob was trained in carpentry. He began clearing his first field, and he piled up logs for a cabin that had to be tight before cold weather. That first summer they slept under the ox cart, and Jacob completed shelter for his animals before he built the family cabin. Lacking meadows, he also cut swamp and swale grass for winter hay.

By snowtime he was rather well situated, and had become acquainted with Frank Sockalexis, one of the dozen or so Sabattus Indians in a village a couple of miles away, all of whom Jacob identified by that same name. Sockalexis would step out of the woods betimes to see how Jacob was progressing. He never said anything, never lifted a hand, and after a time would disappear into the woods. If offered food, Sockalexis would partake.

Jacob's young wife was not my great-grandmother. Widowed, Jacob took a second wife, Rebecca, and her son was my grandfather, Thomas. The pioneer baby proved cranky, and did some crying, and one day Sockalexis left before his visit was over. He came back shortly with a pacifier for the youngster. The wee blob of porcupine fat on the end of a string was put in the baby's mouth so he could gum it, and this occupied him and he didn't cry. The other end of the string was tied to the baby's big toe.

When the baby swallowed the fat, which he did, he'd choke, then kick, and the fat was retrieved and he could start all over again. Thus Sockalexis proved a good man to know, and he got a free feed whenever he came by.

That first winter was severe. Jacob had to climb on the cabin roof three times to clear away snow so the chimney would draw. And by the time of the Hunger Moon, food had dwindled. Jacob had trouble finding rabbits in the swamp. The soup in the pot thinned out. And one day Sockalexis came in, stood his snowshoes in the corner, pulled over a stool, and sat down with his appetite exposed.

It took him little time to figure things out. He stood up, tied on his snowshoes, and struck out for his village. He wasn't gone long. He arrived back in style, perched on a toboggan pulled by two out-of-breath Sabattus women. He came inside to sit down again, and the women brought in the groceries.

They brought a considerable supply of jerky, the smoked fish, flesh, and fowl of the region, and all manner of dried foods, many of which Jacob and his wife knew nothing about. The women blew up the fire on the hearth, and made a feast.

That's about all there is to that story, but we can all regret that they hadn't heard about the first Thanksgiving, so they had nothing to judge by.

Let me add one more Thanksgiving of note: Jacob and Rebecca had a son, Thomas, who became my grandfather. When Thomas was the age of Jacob when he pioneered, Thomas went to war, the war between the states. When that war was over, Thomas would come home to the family farm. The cabin of Jacob was gone, and there was now a big farmhouse. On Thanksgiving Day, 1865, the family was gathered for a big day, as Thomas was coming home.

Remember the big howl in 1939 when FDR moved Thanksgiving from the last Thursday in November to the next-to-last? Well, President Andrew Johnson also moved Thanksgiving: from November to early December, to give the soldier boys extra time to get home. And on Thanksgiving 1865, Thomas would be married to the waiting Hannah Elizabeth, his intended. Evening drew on, and Thomas hadn't arrived. The feast had been delayed. The minister and Hannah were ready. Night was about to descend.

And somebody at a front window shouted, "Here he comes!" Thomas was home for Thanksgiving.