"Right off yonder the American brig Enterprise of fourteen guns, commanded by Captain Burrows, fought the British Boxer, also of fourteen guns. It was a desperate battle in which both captains were killed and the British vessel captured. The prize was taken into Portland harbor, and the two commanders lie buried side by side in the city."
CHAPTER IX
No Man's Land
Lying a short distance off the Maine coast is an island which belongs to nobody and is therefore referred to as No Man's Land. If you look for it on the map you will find it marked as Muscongus. It is also known as Loud's Island, in honor of the first settler. The strange state of affairs came about in this way:
The Lincolnshire or Muscongus Patent, granted in 1630 by the Council of Plymouth to Beauchamp and Leverett, included the land from the seaboard, between the Muscongus and Penobscot rivers, for a certain distance inland, but made no mention of the island on the south. The grant passed to General Samuel Waldo, and was the origin of most of the land titles in that section of Maine.
One of the most honored names in colonial England is that of Samoset, the Wampanoag Indian, who met the first Plymouth settlers with the English greeting, "Welcome, Englishmen!" He had picked up a few words from the fishermen who made their headquarters at Monhegan, an island ten miles farther out to sea. Samoset was accustomed to spend his summers on Muscongus. If you dig in the sand on the island you will be pretty sure to find relics of the aboriginal occupation of the place.
Captain Loud commanded a privateer in the service of George III, and one day lost his temper in a dispute over some prize money. The quarrel waxed so hot that he declared in his rage he would never lift his hand again in the service of the king, even to save the monarch's head. Such lese majesté was sure to bring serious consequences to the peppery old salt, so he hurriedly sailed for Boston on his brig. While coasting the province of Maine, he came upon Muscongus, and was so charmed that he spent the remainder of his life there. In some way that no one can explain, the United States surveyors overlooked this island, three miles in length and a mile broad, and the mistake has never been corrected. Muscongus therefore remains no man's land.
It is well wooded and watered and has a picturesque shore, with rocky coves, white sandy beaches, and an attractive appearance from every direction. No steamer ever stops there, and it is rather ticklish business to pick your way over the crags to the dilapidated landing and so on to the firm land beyond.
The unique condition of Muscongus causes some queer things. For a long time, the people, who now number a hundred and twenty-five, paid taxes to the township of Bristol on the mainland two miles away. Every year the tax collector sailed or rowed over to Muscongus and marked in chalk on each door the amount of taxes due from that family. He gave his receipt for payment of the same by rubbing out the chalked figures.