Fragments of history: When the KKK marched in Kittery, Maine

This photo by early 20th century photographer and businessman Frank Walker documents one of the KKK "Konclaves" held in Kittery in the 1920s.

This photo by early 20th century photographer and businessman Frank Walker documents a large KKK parade held in Kittery in the 1920s (courtesy of the Kittery Historical & Naval Museum).

Why and how did Kittery-ites join the Ku Klux Klan in the 1920s? The Foreside parade in this undated J. Frank Walker photo likely took place on either June 30, 1924, or August 17, 1925, when Portsmouth Herald articles document these two “Konclaves” .

The 1924 parade concluded with a “naturalization” ceremony — an initiation ritual that echoed the ceremony for becoming a U.S. citizen.  The festivities wrapped up at Locke’s Cove with a cross burning.

But even though these two parades are fairly recent events, we have only fragments of history about the Kittery Klan.  Were the marchers — an estimated 400, according to some — all from Kittery, or was this a region-wide gathering?  Kittery was a small town of 4,700, so it seems unlikely that a single organization would draw 400 locals, especially at a time when many belonged to one or more fraternal organizations. Then again, 1924 lacked the myriad entertainments of the current era, so maybe the Klan parade provided an opportunity for a summer social event. On Labor Day, 1924, a Klan parade in Saco drew 300 marchers–reportedly a mixed crowd of locals and Klan members from throughout New England–so perhaps Kittery’s parades drew a similar crowd.

Some say–and again, this is hearsay based on fragments of talk and memory — that the parades were organized to protest the construction of St. Raphael’s Catholic Church in Kittery.  But in the 1920s, no construction was happening at St. Raphael’s, established in 1916 to serve the town’s small community of 77 Catholics.  Parishioners celebrated Mass in a small chapel, constructed in 1916 within the existing foundation of a one-time stable; the church was built in 1933-1934 at the same Wentworth Street location.  St. Raphael’s history book mentions that Catholics faced some bigotry, including the burning of a cross on the grounds of the basement church, but includes no dates.

Another view of the parade, which shows the marching band that also participated. The photo is undated, but The lighting suggest that this is a different shot of the same parade as above (courtesy of the Kittery Historical & Naval Museum).

Another view of the parade, which shows the marching band that also participated (courtesy of the Kittery Historical & Naval Museum).

Between 1923-1925, Klan membership surged in Maine to over 20,000 people (as reported by the Klan, with other sources reporting higher numbers), mostly due to a charismatic leader, F. Eugene Farnsworth, and a fear that French-Canadian immigrants might gain political power. Thousands of Quebecois were working in the mills of Biddeford, Saco, Sanford and other Maine towns, with more crossing the border each year.

What was happening in Kittery at this time? The town didn’t have the large mills with hundreds of employees.  However, U.S. Census records show a population surge in Kittery from 1900, when 2,872 people lived in town, to 1920, when 4,763 residents were counted–an increase of 66%.  U.S. immigration as a whole peaked in these years.  Was Kittery’s population increase fueled by immigrants? Or was the surge due to expanding job opportunities at the Shipyard as it built up during World War I?

In the early days of St. Raphael’s, the parishioners were not French-Canadians; the original membership list includes names such as Curran, Witham, Bridges, and Drake. This small group had been around for years, initially rowing to Portsmouth to attend Mass and then later traveling to South Berwick’s St. Michael’s Church.

Further north, in Portland and beyond, King Kleagle F. Eugene  Farnsworth, a one-time hypnotist best described as a huckster, had capitalized on fears of French-speaking Canadian immigrants to generate interest in the Klan. In 1923, Governor Percival Baxter, a Republican, spoke out against the Klan, predicted that the organization would fail to influence the “level-headed citizens of Maine.”

But he was wrong. Two years later, Republican Ralph O. Brewster became Maine’s governor, thanks in large part to the support of the “White Knights” who backed him.

This circa 1910 postcard shows an Atlantic Shore Line trolley crossing Locke's Cove. The KKK ceremony and cross burning occurred somewhere in this vicinity (Postcard from collections of Seashore Trolley Museum).

This circa 1910 postcard shows an Atlantic Shore Line trolley crossing Locke’s Cove. The KKK ceremony and cross burning occurred somewhere in this vicinity (Postcard from collections of Seashore Trolley Museum).

Farnsworth promoted 100% Americanism,” by which he meant White Anglo-Saxon Protestantism. By this time, Irish Catholics were mainstream in East Coast cities, and politically powerful, and Maine had a small Irish-Catholic population (the oldest Catholic church in New England, Saint Patrick’s, was established in Newcastle in 1808).

But a new horde of non-English speaking Catholics in a rural state like Maine posed a threat. They might take all the jobs or spread diseases in their tenement houses. They might gain political power and demand funding for parochial schools, or worse.

These sentiments echoed national anxieties about immigrants, especially the “yellow swarms” from Italy and other southern and eastern European countries.  By the early 1920s, the Klan claimed 6 million members, many recruited with its “100% Americanism” rhetoric.

This 1924 Portsmouth Herald article...

This Portsmouth Herald article describes the parade on June 30, 1924, including the cross-burning at Locke’s Cove. A similar short article describes a parade on August 30, 1925.

Today, when I see these photos of ordinary citizens marching in white robes, I wonder who they were and why they marched. Were they “old Kittery” residents, fearful of being displaced by industrialization and a changing economy?  Were they suspicious of French-speaking immigrants, even if they didn’t know any of these “outsiders” who didn’t speak English, practiced a “foreign” religion, and allegedly owed their allegiance to a religious leader in a faraway country? Were they seeking connection and community with others who made them feel safe?

During the Gilded Age of the 1890s, the outside world rediscovered Kittery, which became a popular summer destination for tourists who stayed in the town’s five large hotels.

But before the tourists came, Kittery, along with the rest of the Piscataqua region, was a sleepy backwater, in decline since Jefferson’s Embargo in the 1800s killed off the merchant economy (Kittery lost 35% of its population between 1800 and 1810).  Although many stayed and got by with farming, fishing, building ships, more than 100 years passed before the Kittery reached its pre-Embargo population of about 3,100 people.  Vital records in the Town Reports — births and deaths — show the same names over and again,  many from families who had settled here during colonial times.

kkk at the Grange 1933 (2)

This January 19, 1933 update on Kittery Grange news mentions Kittery Klan No. 5 as contributing to an upcoming Unemployment Bazaar.

The last documented Klan event in Kittery is a 1933 notice about a social event at the Kittery Grange.  By then, the Klan’s national membership had dropped to 45,000, with 225 members reported in Maine in 1930. The Klan had imploded, due in part to the murder trial and unveiling of King Kleagle D.C. Stephenson, a one-time salesman who had murdered his girlfriend, along with a variety of other allegations of corruption and abuse of power. In some parts of the country, the Klan continued to terrorize its victims, especially African-Americans, but it had lost its force as a national organization.

But before its implosion, the Klan had achieved several goals: it had helped to secure the passage of the 1924 National Origins Act, which limited the number of immigrants, especially non-Protestants from southern and eastern Europe. Then in 1928, the Klan helped to defeat presidential candidate Al Smith, a Catholic.

Still a small group in Kittery hung on.  I wonder who these ordinary people were, and why we have forgotten about Kittery Klan No. 5 so easily.

Sources and resources

I welcome all additions, corrections, comments, or suggestions for further information about the Klan in Kittery, via the Comments section.

Many thanks to Kim Sanborn, Executive Director of the Kittery Naval & Historical Museum, for sharing her insights on the Klan’s presence in Kittery.

U.S. Census data is compiled in an easy-to-read format on the Kittery, Maine Wikipedia page, but I have not been able to verify the accuracy of this data.

The King Kleagle of Maine’s Ku Klux Klan was an opportunist,” by Sharon Cummings.  SoMeOldNews: Surprising Southern Maine History.  Cummings’s research suggests that anti-immigrant King Kleagle Farnsworth was himself a Canadian immigrant from New Brunswick, although he claimed Columbia Falls, Maine as his birthplace.

“The Ku Klux Klan in New Hampshire, 1923-1927”, Stephen H. Goetz. Historical New Hampshire, Vol 43, No. 4, Winter 1988. Goetz also looks at the brief time of the KKK in New Hampshire, where long-established French-Canadian communities had largely assimilated into the mainstream.  He speculates that the national “social hysteria” over immigration and other issues fueled Klan membership (which required the significant expenses of a $10 initiation fee and $5 for the white robe), as well as the general popularity of all fraternal organizations.

The Nativist Klan.” Maine Memory Network of the Maine Historical Society.

Not a Catholic Nation: The Ku Klux Klan confronts New England in the 1920s, by Mark Paul Richards. Amherst/Boston, MA: University of Massachusetts Press, 2015.

Richards’s book offers insightful and evidence-filled chapters on the rise of the Klan in Maine in the 1920s.  By the mid-1920s, Roman Catholics were the largest single religious group in the state, with 173, 893 adherents, compared to the Northern Baptist Convention, at 32,031, and the Methodist Episcopal Church, at 22,938.  Richards also cites a 1930 Washington Post article claiming a peak membership of 150,141 Klan member in Maine, the largest in New England, and almost 20% of Maine’s population, or 30% of the white native-born population.

U.S. Immigration Legislation: 1924 Immigration Act.  U.S. Immigration legislation online. The National Origins Act set limits on immigration and set up a quota system based upon the current population of the United States which basically guaranteed that the majority of immigration slots would go to immigrants from northern Europe (Ireland, Germany, Scandinavia).

Uncomfortable History,” by Candace Kanes. Maine History Online. Maine Historical Society.

Related posts:

For more on Kittery history during the Gilded Age of the 1890s (especially on the PK&Y Trolley), see my posts “On Bridges and the Jet Set” and “Remnants of the Gilded Age at Brave Boat Harbor.

On early 20th century immigration in Kittery: The little girl in the photo and The summer when Kittery aliens landed at the Town Office.

A trail ride for Father’s Day

A section of the off-road portion of the 62-mile Eastern Trail that stretches from Kittery to South Portland. About 22 miles are off-road, with plans in the works to complete another off-road stretch from Kennebunk south to Wells.

An off-road section of the 62-mile Eastern Trail that stretches from Kittery to South Portland. About 22 miles of the Trail are off-road, with plans in the works to complete another bike path from Kennebunk to Wells.

The bike bridge across Scarborough Marsh had beckoned to me for several years. Now, on this Father’s Day, we decided to discover it.

At the time (a few years ago), my son was still building confidence as a bike rider and wasn’t too keen on riding the busy roads with non-existent shoulders found in my town and much of southern Maine.  So, we loaded up the car with the bikes, and set out for Thornton Academy in Saco, Maine, where we could park and then ride on an Eastern Trail bike path eight miles to Scarborough.

As a bonus (or maybe a bribe), we planned to finish the day with some rounds of skee ball at the arcade in Old Orchard Beach.

From Saco to Scarborough, the miles flew by on the easy grade of an old railroad bed. As we peddled through a shady of tunnel of trees, I remembered why I love to ride my bike–the feeling of freedom generated by effortless forward momentum.  Other bikers and walkers were using the path, but it wasn’t crowded.  The packed dirt trail attracts mostly families and recreational riders rather than hard-core road bikers, so we didn’t feel intimidated by packs of fast-moving cyclists.

We blinked as we rode out of the woods at Pine Point Road, which the trail crosses and then enters a parking lot for the bridge.  Here, the trail was busy with a mix of walkers, riders, and kids on their first bikes, all drawn by the bridge and the beauty of the marsh.

The eight-ride from Saco to Scarborough culminates in the bridge over the Scarborough River. Currently (2016), the Eastern Trail is raising funds that will close a 1.6 mile gap in the trail so that riders can ride off road continuously to Bug Light in South Portland.

The eight-ride bike path ride from Saco to Scarborough culminates in the bridge over the Scarborough River. Currently (2016), the Eastern Trail is raising funds to close a 1.6 mile gap in the path so that riders can ride off-road continuously from Saco to Bug Light in South Portland.

The trail continued for an additional three miles or so after the bridge. Wild geraniums and buttercups blossomed alongside the path. I easily could have continued on to Bug Light.

High tide at Scarborough Marsh, taken from the pedestrian/bike bridge that crosses the marsh.

High tide at Scarborough Marsh, taken from the pedestrian/bike bridge that crosses the marsh.

But I knew that a 16-mile ride (round-trip) was long enough for a kid, so we turned around and rode back to Saco, on what seemed like faster miles on a downhill grade (although in reality, I suspect the grade shifts up and down all along the trail).

These off-road sections of the Trail are built upon the one-time Eastern Railroad corridor, first constructed in 1842. The views have changed as the forest has grown up around old fields and pasture, but I liked the idea that we were traveling on a path that had carried so many people, and continues to do so today.

Sources and resources

Ambitious riders can ride from Kennebunk to Scarborough on mostly bike path, with a small stretch of road riding from Biddeford to Saco. The Kennebunk to Biddeford stretch is a woods ride, except for the bike-pedestrian bridge that crosses the Maine Turnpike.

To see more of the Eastern Trail, consider signing up for the Maine Lighthouse Ride, an annual September event sponsored by the Eastern Trail Alliance, and which offers riders various route choices, including 25-mile, 40-mile, 60-mile and century rides.  A couple of years back, I signed up for the 40-mile ride, which cycled past a half-dozen lighthouses and over the Scarborough Marsh bridge.  The ride was mostly flat and easy. Next time, I’ll sign up for the 60-mile ride.

Currently, the Eastern Trail Alliance is raising money to build a bridge over the Nonesuch River in Scarborough, so that bikers can ride off road all the way from Kennebunk to Bug Light, South Portland.

The old railroad right-of-way through which the Eastern Trail passes is now owned by Unitil, a New Hampshire-based public utilities company.  Back in the 1960s, Portland Gas Light bought up much of the abandoned Eastern Railroad corridor and installed a natural gas pipeline that still operates today. Read more about the history of the trail here.

 

 

 

Travels on the White Rose Road to Orris Falls

When writer Sarah Orne Jewett stopped by the Littlefield farmhouse in June, 1889, she found Daniel Littlefield, then 68, sitting in his deceased wife’s rocking chair, looking out the window at the same lane on which we walked on a recent Sunday in April.

Although the hike to Orris Falls is a short mile from the trailhead, walkers can get in a good four to five mile hike within the Orris Falls Conservation Area

Although the hike to Orris Falls is a short mile from the trailhead, walkers can get in a good four to five mile hike within the Orris Falls Conservation Area

Littlefield, Jewett observed, had a “large frame…built for hard work, for lifting great weights and pushing his plough through new-cleared land.”

But now, this Civil War veteran, crippled by war wounds, aging, and a lifetime of “undiverted toil,” could no longer do the heavy lifting of farming. Like many in 19th century South Berwick, Daniel and his wife Mercy had lived a hard-scrabble life on their hilly and rock-filled land. They had endured the deaths of infant Izaro, three-year old Eunice, and 22-year-old Henrietta.  Although son Orris stayed on, and daughter Phebe married locally, Daniel and Mercy witnessed the departure of many young people who abandoned family farms and left Maine for better prospects after the Civil War.

But despite the hard living, every farmhouse on what Jewett called the “White Rose Road”  had a white rose bush planted near the door, including that of Littlefields — a small burst of daily joy from June through fall.

Daniel built his farmhouse around 1860 on the foundation of a home built in the 1800s.  In 1889 — and probably long before that — few people passed by the lonely farmhouse, located just over a half-mile off Thurrell Road (Jewett’s “White Rose Road”).

Although we found no sign of the white rose bush, we felt a similar sense of isolation when we explored the Orris Falls Conservation Area.  We saw other walkers, but not many, considering that this April afternoon offered ideal circumstances for exploring these trails, with all the sights and contours of the land fully revealed.

On the old woods road towards Orris Falls.

On the old woods road towards Orris Falls.

When I set out for this hike, I didn’t know about Sarah Orne Jewett’s sketch, “The White Rose Road,” which recounts an afternoon ride through this neighborhood.  After reading it, I was struck by how Jewett’s sketch of an agrarian neighborhood in decline captured the sense I felt of traveling in a lost New England as we wandered through the forest now grown up from the old farm fields.

We began at the Thurrell Road trailhead on the same woods road that Daniel Littlefield and his family rode or walked en route to town, school, or to the closest neighboring house.   About  a half-mile in, we stopped at the Littlefield family cemetery, where Daniel and Mercy are buried along with at least two of their children.

This map from the 1872 Atlas of York County, highlights the isolation of the Littlefield house from its neighbors in South Berwick. Today, visitors may feel an echo of the Littlefields' isolation when they walk to Orris Falls.

This map from the 1872 Atlas of York County  highlights the isolation of the Littlefield house from its neighbors in South Berwick.  Note many of the “old” names still common in southern Maine today. Until World War II, the majority of southern Maine residents consisted of old families descended from colonial era pioneers (Image from trailside kiosk via the Old Berwick Historical Society).

The Littlefield house, now a cellar hole, is just past the cemetery. Daniel and Mercy probably sometimes went for days without speaking to a neighbor, especially during stormy days or intense cold.

A cavity in the foundation of the Littlefield house. I've seen these cavities in other cellar holes in York County and wonder if they were used as a root cellar or for some other purpose.

A cavity in the Littlefield house cellar hole. I’ve seen these cavities in other foundations in York County and wonder if they were used as root cellars or for some other purpose. Daniel Littlefield purchased this land (a 78-acre parcel) for $850 in 1843 and built his home around 1860.  Behind the house are the foundation walls of a large barn. Another large wall is built into the side of the slope that looks out at the beaver pond — almost as if Daniel was intent on building a viewing platform/patio.  But the wall must have served a practical purpose — perhaps flood control. Please leave comments if you have more information.

Continuing on, the trail crosses a wooden footbridge before turning right to Orris Falls, where water was tumbling in a small fall that probably froths large after a heavy rain.   Here, the trail loops back towards Thurrell Road; hikers who wish to continue on to Balancing Rock should backtrack towards the main woods road.

Orris Falls tumbling in April. The Falls are named for Daniel's son Orris, who owned the farm by 1891, when Daniel died. The falls spring from a small gorge and hikers with small children need to watch carefully.

Orris Falls tumbling in April. The Falls are named for Daniel’s son Orris, who owned the farm by 1891, when Daniel died. The falls tumble through a gorge with banks that rise  t0 90 feet, so hikers with small children need to watch carefully.

Continuing on the main trail, we ascended Spring Hill and discovered the Tatnic Ledges, with a pre-foliage view of Mount Agamenticus.  We were beginning to wonder if we had missed the turn-off to Balancing Rock when we came upon a small sign pointing the way.

Balancing Rock, a glacial erratic left by the melting and receding glacier. The Rock is on a short side trail just beyond the legde views of Spring Cliffs.

Balancing Rock, a glacial erratic left by the receding glacier; the Rock in located in a little hollow off the main trail.

After our visit to Balancing Rock, we backtracked to the junction at the Littlefield cellar hole and hiked over to the Big Bump.  Somehow we missed LaChance Point, so that viewpoint will have to wait for next time.

Fifteen years ago (circa 2000), this property was not accessible to the public and was ripe for development. Thanks to the work of many at the Great Works Regional Trust, Orris Falls Conservation Area was preserved through land purchases and conservation easements over private lands  —  an effort that involved years of negotiations regarding multiple parcels of land and various financing arrangements .

It’s hard to imagine that this patch of forest might have become another southern Maine subdivision. I know that people need places to live, but I’m glad that Great Works managed to save this special place so that we can wander here today.

Beyond the LIttlefield homestead, beavers have created a large pond with several dams and beaver houses readily visible.

Beyond the LIttlefield homestead, beavers have created a very large pond with several dams and beaver houses readily visible.

Sources and Resources

For a video visit, see the NHPTV Windows to the Wild episode inspired by this blog post, titled “The Maniacal Traveler“.

Here, the map for the Orris Falls Conservation Area, which is part of the Great Works Regional Land Trust (see the website for a mobile version of the map).

The full text of Sarah Orne Jewett’s sketch, “The White Rose Road,” first published in The Atlantic Monthly, September, 1889, and again in her book, Strangers and Wayfarers (1890).

Scholar Nancy Meyer Wetzel links Jewett’s sketch to the historical people and events in her 2003 article, “The White Rose Road: Sarah Orne Jewett’s Journey to Orris Falls.

Find-a-Grave has photos and more details about the Littlefield Family cemetery.