What do you know of the history of your home?

When our planned substantial renovations finally began last autumn, our contractor began uncovering particulars that indicated the house might be even older than we had reckoned.

It was enough to prompt me to follow up on friendly banter by more than one person who asked if I’d ever gone to the county courthouse to “run the deeds” back to the original owner.

Quite simply, no, not here or in the previous two homes I’d purchased and later sold as I moved on.

While I’ve done a great deal of genealogy, courthouse records were one line of research I’d never pursued. I had encountered other researchers who specialized in family properties and last wills and testaments, and I was grateful for what those legal documents added to the family picture.

Even so, do accept my disclaimer regarding some of the dates and locations that pop up as I applied that line of inquiry to our old residence. What I’ve gleaned and present here is in an attempt to get a big picture of the lives that have intertwined with the house we purchased and renovated. Some of the connections are admittedly soft and subject to further revision. I am surprised by how many gaps remain.

Keeping that in perspective, I did finally trot off to the Washington County courthouse in Machias, an hour away. Let me say that digitalizing the archived records has made this field much easier and more accessible, and the registrar of deeds and her staff proved to be very helpful and friendly.

The fateful day my curiosity about our house finally led me to the registrar of deeds in Machias came about while I needed something to round out the day while my computer was in the repair shop a mile or so away.

To get the bigger picture, I set forth with a sense of trepidation. Armed with little more than the plot number of our lot, I anticipated technical complications, a tangle of legalese requiring translation, and dark, dusty confines. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised to find the room well lighted and organized the staff both friendly and helpful. Better yet, the transactions have been digitalized in an easily navigated system. The original records were also at hand, should I desire, and I wouldn’t have to interrupt anyone to help me follow these.

Each transaction included a reference to the book and page numbers of the previous purchase, which was all you needed to trace the line of owners.

If only it were that easy.

~*~

Running the deeds means starting with the most recent transaction and working down through time, document by document.

Despite its modest appearance, our house has an unexpected significance, as you will find.

There are good reasons I’m calling my findings a genealogy of an old house. We’re surprised by some of the characters who’ve lived here.

Being subjected to the laws they pass, too

The House of Representatives … can make no law which will not have its full operation on themselves and their friends, as well as on the great mass of society. This has always been deemed one of the strongest bonds by which human policy can connect the rulers and the people together. It creates between them that communion of interests and sympathy of sentiments of which few governments have furnished examples; but without which every government degenerates into tyranny.

James Madison in Federalist No. 57

Now, for some background

While we wait for the continuing renovations to catch up with these weekly reports, let’s change the focus to the history of this old house itself. Give us a better idea of what we’re working with, too.

When we bought our full Cape at the end of 2020, the real estate listing dated its origin in the 1860s. As we became familiar with the home’s bones, we saw details suggesting construction as early as the 1830s. While the pedigrees of a few neighboring houses have been catalogued by local historians, ours was not one of them. The dwelling did appear more modest in comparison.

We did have to wonder if the dwelling had been rebuilt after one of the catastrophic fires swept the downtown and its fringes in 1886, 1864, and 1839. Some of our stone foundation is 18 or more inches thick.

The house did appear on a widely reproduced 1879 map of Eastport, one that gave a birds-eye view of the city. The two dormers may have come later – it’s hard to tell from the map.

An earlier historic map of 1855 not only had a house fitting the footprint of ours on the lot, but with two wings, accompanied by an identifying script “Shackford Est.” The difficulty came in trying to figure out which Shackford that would have been — the family was prominent and prolific.

An earlier Plan of the Village of Eastport, 1835, by William Anson presented rough designations of the structures in town, including a house where ours is and only a few others in the blocks around.

Thus, we do know the house was here before 1886, as the charred rafters affirm, reflecting the great fire that destroyed the downtown. Local history dean Ruth “Ruthy” McInnis, owner of the Todd House bed and breakfast, had primed us to look for that detail when we were considering whether to bid on the place. Other dwellings, as we’re learning, share similar damage.

What I’ve uncovered is that this house is even older than we suspected, and more historic. In many ways, it tells the story of the town, too.

Shelter-in-place boredom? You kidding?

This post was supposed to appear four years ago but somehow it fell through the cracks. With a few tweaks, it retains relevance, IMHO.

Here goes, from back in Dover, New Hampshire:

~*~

Catching up with my dentist, now that his office is open again, we noted our astonishment that so many adults were complaining of being bored during the official shutdown of most businesses, schools, churches, and public services.

Bored? I repeated my adage that boredom is a luxury of the teenage years – most adults I’ve known simply don’t have time for it. Alas, it must say something about the people I associate with. (Well, frankly I find most TV to be boring, but others might say the same thing of the operas I’ve been streaming every night. ‘Nuff said there.)

My dental doc, meanwhile, expressed his gratitude for the time off as “paternity leave” he suddenly had to devote to his two- to four-month-old daughter, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, as well as time to catch up on a pile of desired novels. Not a bad combination.

We also touched on studies of the eye damage being done to children under age two by their extensive use of digital screens. Well, and their need for boredom to allow essential self-exploration, discovery, and growth, too.

On my end, I have to acknowledge how little cash I’ve used since March 11, the last time I went to the bank. Mostly, it’s been plastic, which fortunately hasn’t spiraled out of control.

What did you discover in this period of changed focus?

In more than one swirl

I’m turned about so much
we don’t connect to the guidebook
in my hand

across from Brooklin
on Blue Hill peninsula
wooden boat school renown
and the magazine

I’m so turned around
the overnight air was humid
we thought the early morning sun
was the moon
we could look at straight
like the nearly full moon

Keeping justice in mind

Justice is the end [goal] of government. It is the end of civil society. It ever has been, and ever will be pursued, until it be obtained, or until liberty be lost in the pursuit. In a society under the forms of which the stronger faction can readily unite and oppress the weaker, anarchy may as truly be said to reign, as in a state of nature where the weaker individual is not secured against the violence of the stronger …

James Madison in Federalist No. 51