With March set aside for Women’s History, and April given over to poetry, I found myself wandering back to the words of Hannah Augusta Moore and Annette Hubbard Hobson, poets of yesteryear who felt the tug of Wiscasset so strongly they were inspired to put pen to paper.  

Each wrote a poem about Wiscasset that leaves the reader with what I’d call – well I’ll let you read them and decide for yourself.  For me they seem to be saying the town they fondly remembered had changed over the years and lost, shall we say a bit of its charm.  It seems only natural they might feel this way. I often hear myself saying how much I miss the days when I arrived in Maine and first discovered “Maine’s Prettiest Village." I suppose everyone experiences moments of nostalgia now and then. I ask, who among us hasn’t longed for, “the good old days” when everyone seemed to get along nicely, or at least behaved with a degree of decorum? 

As far as their poetry is concerned, Ms. Moore is the more renowned having devoted much of her life to writing poems. She was born in Wiscasset, March 15, 1824 in a home off an old wagon road that wound its way south of the village through woods and cleared pastureland to Chewonki Neck. Her parents, Herbert and Hannah Moore, were both literary-minded individuals and rather liberal in their thinking. Hannah’s maiden name was Boynton; although she had connections to the Nutter family, both clans being among the earliest settlers in the Sheepscot River Valley. Her husband, Herbert Thorndike Moore, was from Waterville and was named for his father who had gained fame for having raised a company of Yankee militia during the War of 1812. For reasons unknown Herbert and Hannah Moore didn’t remain many years in Wiscasset moving to Philadelphia when their firstborn Hannah was still a child. Apparently, the “City of Brotherly Love” didn’t suit them either for they soon moved again, this time to New York City. After her mother died Hannah returned to Maine to Waterville where her grandparents lived. She began writing poetry while she was in school and was thrilled when the editor of Waterville Mail agreed to print one of her poems in his newspaper.   

As the years rolled on, Hannah Augusta Moore kept writing poems and had her work published in many literary journals of the day. She spent time too, with several notable intellectuals of the day becoming acquainted with Harriet Beecher Stowe, author of "Uncle Tom’s Cabin," and with Harriet’s younger brother, the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher. Rev. Beecher had developed a national following as an abolitionist and social reformer drawing large crowds for his fiery sermons held at Plymouth Church in Brooklyn, New York. Hannah Augusta Moore attended many of these sermons and became greatly inspired; so much in fact, she published a book in 1859 based on Rev. Beecher's teachings titled, “Plymouth Pulpit: A Collection of Memorable Passages from the Discourses of Henry Ward Beecher." In her introduction Moore explains she wrote her book (over 300 pages in length) “chiefly from memory” adding Rev. Beecher assumed no responsibility for its content. Her book was well-received initially selling 40,000 copies. But it’s for her poetry Ms. Moore is best remembered, Wiscasset serving as inspiration for three of her poems: the “Last Pine of Sweet Auburn," “The Nine O’clock Bell” and one titled simply, “Wiscasset" which she wrote in 1882 at age 58 and is reprinted here. 

Wiscasset

“Dethroned! discrowned! forsaken by the sea,

Sitting in dust with ashes on thy head,

Still thou art beautiful! and still will be

Fair as a dream though all my hopes are dead;

Thine empty palaces to silence given;

Thy children scattered to the winds of heaven.

Beloved! beautiful! not we alone—

Thy children, praise thee, ruined as thou art,

Thy peerless graces all who see thee own:

And we—we bear forever on our heart

The sacred picture of our home of yore,

Framed in its pleasant hills, its matchless shore. — October 1882

As far as I know Hannah Augusta Moore never married. She continued writing poetry and in her later years made her home in Benton, a small town about six miles from Waterville and just east of Fairfield. She died September 1, 1900, and is buried in Benton Falls Cemetery. More details about her life appear in Fanny Chase’s “Wiscasset in Pownalborough” published in 1941, which served as my primary source in telling her story. 

Unlike, Hannah Augusta Moore, Annette Hubbard Hobson spent many happy years living in Wiscasset. A bit younger than Ms. Moore she very likely had heard of her and perhaps at some time the two women met. Mrs. Hodson wrote her Wiscasset poem in 1876 – six years before Hannah Augusta Moore. Her poem too, made its first appearance in a newspaper, the Seaside Oracle, a weekly newspaper based in Wiscasset. She titled her work, “Wiscasset 1876” signing it, A.H.H. More about Mrs. Hodson in a moment, first her poem…

Wiscasset – 1876

O beautiful, dear old town,

 Looking out to the changing sea,

 Thou sittest like one bereft

Lost in mournful memory;

Like a widow, who musing o’er happier days,

In sorrow forgetteth the world, and its ways.

What dream is it fills thy heart,

What vision of power and fame,

Sitting mid ruined hopes,

With ashes strewn on thy name?

O beautiful town by the changing sea,

Sacred thou art to memory!

The restless, restless tide

Comes up and kisses thy feet

And thy verdure like a crown,

Crowneth thy beauty sweet;

Nor life, nor beauty, nor changing tides

Stirreth the soul where Sorrow abides.

The sound comes up from far

Of Mammon’s restless strife;

But waketh not thy dreams,

Nor troubles thy peaceful like;

But thy heart remembereth thy children yet

And holdeth a welcome they never forget.

They dwell with loving looks

On thy beauty so serene,

And even in their hearts,

Crown thee Mother and Queen!

And greet thee, with token and tribute mete

In homage, as Ocean kisses thy feet.

Well, she certainly had a way with words. Maybe you'll agree both poems seem to share a similar theme. Annette Hubbard Hobson, was married to Francis Orville Hobson. The Hobsons were a well-known and prominent family of Wiscasset. Isaac Townsend Hobson, an uncle to Francis, owned a thriving sawmill at the waterfront on Hobson’s Island that's today known as White’s Island. After graduating from Bowdoin College, Class of 1861, young Francis returned to Wiscasset and went to work at the sawmill. He must have enjoyed the job because he stayed on at the mill for seven years. Around the same time Francis met Annette Hubbard, a local lass he wooed and married in 1867. Annette was the daughter of another respected and well-to-do couple, Wales and Harriet Ruth Swett Hubbard. In his day Wales Hubbard had earned a good living as a land speculator. At one time he owned most of Birch Point, an area once connected to Hobson’s Island by a long wooden bridge spanning the cove. For many years Wales Hubbard and his wife lived in a two-story house downtown. Built in 1795 it still stands on the north corner of Main and Pleasant streets. Seventeen fireplaces heated the house in the Hubbards' day.

The first clue that Annette Hubbard Hobson had a way with words comes from the records of Wiscasset’s First Congregational Church where she and her husband sang in the choir. From these records we learn during the parish’s own Centennial Celebration held on Aug. 6, 1873 Annette had written a closing hymn for the historic service. Writing a hymn isn’t something many people can lay claim to. It suggests Annette Hubbard Hobson had a certain knack for writing verse.

Francis and Annette Hubbard Hobson didn’t remain in Wiscasset; in 1887 they headed for the west coast with their two daughters moving first to San Francisco and later to nearby Berkeley. Francis had taken a position as business secretary for Bowers Rubber Company. Always one to credit my sources, I found this and other information about Francis Hubbard’s life and family in the Obituary Record of the Graduates of Bowdoin College published in 1914, the year of Francis Orville Hobson’s death.

It would be interesting to know what Mrs. Hobson thought of the Pacific Ocean when she first laid eyes on it. Maybe she was inspired to write other poetry.

Phil Di Vece earned a B.A. in journalism studies from Colorado State University and an M. A. in journalism at the University of South Florida. He is the author of three Wiscasset books and is a frequent news contributor to the Boothbay Register/Wiscasset Newspaper. He resides in Wiscasset. Contact him at news@wiscassetnewspaper.com