Town Pound
Corinth is lucky to have one of the few remaining town pounds in Maine, even if what remains is but a portion of the stone wall that is silent testimony to the back breaking work it took to build it. A cherished possession of any town, pounds represent a very important and tangible link with Maine's proud agrarian history. Their preservation, though insignificant by some standards, insures the safeguarding of an irreplaceable, everyday article of life, witness of a by-gone era.
In fact, according to the Maine Historic Preservation Commission research, there must have been, at one time, one or two hundred pounds in the state; there are only about 19 left. Animal pounds are indeed an uncommon survivor from the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries that assume increased significance as today's modern culture gradually becomes increasingly removed from its original farming focus.
In the eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, almost every country town had a pound built and paid for by the local citizens. They were a very important part of the agricultural life of the community because it was in these enclosures that farm animals who had strayed were kept until claimed by their owners for a fee which depended on the type of animal and length of time he had been cared for by the pound keeper or "pinder". The old pound in Corinth was built sometime before 1813, possibly before the town was incorporated in 1811.
The primary figure behind the operation of the town pound was its keeper. Often of a colorful nature, strong determination and rugged constitution, the pound keeper exercised a diverse range of responsibilities twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week.
Although some pound keepers acquired their job by winning a local election, more often the job was bestowed upon unwilling persons. In 1974, Dick Shaw of the Lewiston Evening Journal likened the process of selecting pound keeper to that one by which you may find yourself selected for jury duty. He goes on to add that the draftee usually met certain specifications of stalwartness, but occasionally the newest-wed or least prepared male of the community was selected as a sort of time-honored tradition that must have provided many hours of laughter for village gossipers-- until it became their turn for the often dreaded appointment.
A cattle pound is a stonewall enclosure, some rectangular, some circular. In the case of the Corinth town pound, a granite foundation, consisting of several large rectangular slabs, had to be laid before the several huge boulders, which Shaw described in his article as "mammoth" in size, could be set in place. These stones, in order to erect the relatively thick, high protective wall, were frequently brought a fair distance from fields or meadows. This alone could not have been an easy task. However, when completed, the sturdy enclosure would hold large and small stray farm animals alike. It is important, after all, to remember that in Corinth, as in most other towns, these enclosures were built for the purpose of holding even the testiest of bulls.
The construction
and maintenance of the site was only one of the immense, sometimes onerous,
demands placed on the pound keeper's shoulders. After the enclosure was finally
fit for all size beasts, the pinder had to be literally on his toes to catch
wandering culprits, which was often no simple task. The agony and public lambastement
of losing a stray horse or pig was compounded by the fact that the fine paid
by the farmer in possession of the animal was legally the property of the keeper.
Therefore, the usual daily fine of twenty-five or fifty cents was denied the
poor pound keeper if he failed to round up the wanderers.
In some instances, the keeper was left to the matter of tending the already impounded strays and collecting the fines and a separate task of pursuing the critters was left to the man known as the field driver.
The pound keeper was also expected to deal with angry and disgruntled owners, a job that most likely proved as encumbering, if not more so, than working with the animals. Some farmers were not above tricks such as claiming animals that were not theirs, or visiting the pound on cloudy nights and claiming their strays without paying the fines. To guard against such scoundrels, the pound keepers often kept scrupulous records of each impounded animal and lived adjacent to the pound.
By the turn of the century, the cattle pound had largely fallen into disuse. With the advent of barbed wire and electric fences, farmers enclosed their own pastures. As a result, animals remained within their own territory and out of the town pound. Gradually, the pound, once a very important part of the farming community, became obsolete and was no longer needed. (Ironically, the fences around the Corinth town pound now keep the animals OUT!) In Corinth, when the pound was no longer needed for animals, it was converted into a garage for the town's motor-driven machines. A metal roof was constructed for the old pound and where one type of horsepower once stood, another had taken its place.
The pound entered the town's legends over time, and is remembered fondly by some of the older residents in town. In his article Shaw also shares, for the first time in print, a tale recounted to him by Nellie Skinner, former resident of the Skinner Settlement located in what is commonly known today as West Corinth. She spoke to him of an incident that went badly for the town's poor pound keeper. "One day, " she says, "the cows (from the Skinner farm just down the road from the pound) didn't come in, so the next morning Daniel had his two sons, Alvin and Asahel, go hunt them up. They separated and hunted all around the woods to no avail, so each went a different way to the pound. Asahel arrived first and there the cows were! He managed to rope the leader." In the meantime, the old ranger pound keeper gave Asahel quite a beating, it seems. Alvin came on the spot a short while later and said that no one could treat his brother that way and that he was going to make the keeper as bloody as his brother, Asahel, was. "And he sure did!" adds Mrs. Skinner. Asahel was, however, a better fighter than his brother, Alvin, which he proved to the keeper with a torn shirt, bloody nose, and black eye. When Asahel finally got the chance to explain, it was already too late for the poor pound keeper.
It wasn't
until the mid-1980's that the then newly formed Corinth Historical Society brought
the pound's sad state of disrepair to the attention of the townspeople. The
Society petitioned for a vote in the local election asking the Town of Corinth
to allow them to restore the pound, at no cost to taxpayers, and thus preserve
the historic landmark.
Sources
1. Shaw, Dick. "Town Pounds in Maine Have All but Disappeared," Lewiston Evening Journal: Magazine Section. Saturday, September 28, 1974.
2. Correspondence between Mrs. Elizabeth LaForge and Marilyn A. Gass of the Bangor Historical Society, dated March 13, 1985.
3. Correspondence between Mrs. Elizabeth LaForge and Mr. John O. Curtis of the Old Sturbridge Village, Sturbridge, MA, dated March 5, 1985.
4. Correspondence between Mrs. Elizabeth LaForge and Mr. Frank A. Beard of the Maine Historic Preservation Commission, dated January 30, 1985.
5. Letter from Corinth Historical Society for admission in town proceedings, 1985, asking the people of Corinth to vote on pound restoration.
