To celebrate the sesquicentennial of the Civil War, I’ve poked around in the vaults to bring you the Swan’s Island story. The Maine Historical Society is a great source of information for anyone who wants a comprehensive historical account. The rest of you will just have to trust my simplified version, I guess!

Economically, Swan’s Island benefited from the war. Fish prices increased, schooners were purchased and islanders saw a period of general growth. This didn’t make islanders completely thrilled about the war, however.

Out of all the northern states, Maine had the highest enlistment rate in proportion to its population. About 73,000 Mainers went to serve in the Union Army and Navy, and almost 10,000 never returned.

Despite these numbers, the state itself was divided in its support of the war. Shipments of southern cotton had been an important source of profit for decades, and many Mainers were sympathetic to the South’s cause. Although it’s nice to think of the Civil War as the point when everyone finally realized slavery was awful, at the time people up here were more likely concerned with the economy and states’ rights.

There were large peace demonstrations across Maine. After the draft in 1863, “skedaddlers,” as the conscription dodgers were known, were attracted to the excellent hiding places in northern Maine. Winter Harbor (as close to a neighboring town as we get out here) saw many of its men take off for Canada.

By default, all male citizens between 18 and 45 were subject to military duty. A Swan’s Island militia enrollment form from the turn of the 19th century gives an idea of who was eligible around that period.

The following persons were declared exempt from service: “”¦ idiots, lunatics, paupers, common drunkards, and persons convicted of infamous crimes.” You were also in the clear if you were a postal employee, pilot, Quaker, or the Vice President of the United States. Frankly, I think the first list would be easier to enforce.

Another exemption was granted to those employed by merchants, who were needed to continue the necessary transport of goods during wartime. This was more relevant to coastal residents. Eben T. Smith (1827-1871) was a mate on a Swan’s Island schooner. On Aug. 1, 1862, he wrote to a government representative for clarification:

“I take the liberty to write. First are men employed on the ocean liable to do military duty, if not what shall be done with the names of those enrolled that follow the sea? Second are commissioned officers liable to be drafted for privates? Some men have demand[ed] their names to be struck from the enrollment.”

 Despite their isolation, Swan’s Islanders have served proudly and willingly in conflicts over the decades. In this war that famously pitted brothers against brothers, however, it wasn’t just a matter of patriotism. It takes no great stretch to imagine islanders’ sympathy for those who wanted to break away and do things their own way (sound familiar?). 

Each Maine town was given a quota to fill. Albert Sylvester and George Ames were two Swan’s Islanders mustered into the 1st regiment of Maine cavalry in March of 1864. If there weren’t enough men left to send, towns had to supply money to hire substitutes.

A peeved sounding Cornelius Wasgatt penned a letter to the island in 1866, after the war’s end. Apparently the Plantation of Swan’s Island (it wasn’t a town yet) had failed to cough up the amount required.

Swan’s Island had voted to take on the debt of $7,860 necessary to compensate seventeen men, “for the suppression of the rebellion besides other incidental expenses.”

Despite this vote, Wasgatt said, the island didn’t pay the full amount. He writes, “”¦no part of [the debt] has ever been assessed, the majority of the people and of the assessors having been opposed to the war and all support of the war from the beginning.”

Whoops! I would love to find out who ended up winning that post-war skirmish.

Kaitlin Webber is an Island Fellow through Americorps and the Island Institute on Swan’s Island, where she works with the island historical society.