Legends of Washington Street

When the autumn breeze begins to blow, I feel like a child, and I want to catch the falling red and yellow leaves and gently press them between the pages of a treasured book, like

The Ghost and Mrs. Muir, written by an Irish author, Josephine Leslie, under the pseudonym R. A. Dick in 1945. Leslie’s romantic fantasy tells the story of a young widow, Lucy Muir, who struggles to chart a new life for herself and her young daughter in a cottage by the sea in Whitecliff, England, which happens to be 58 miles south of the English city of Bath. Two years after its first publication, it was made into a timeless black and white film that is still enjoyed today. Gene Tierney, a serenely beautiful American actress, brought the character of Lucy Muir to life, and Rex Harrison, a dashing British actor, gave a second chance at love, if not life, to the ghost of Captain Daniel Gregg. When Mrs. Muir loses her fortune and fears that she will have to leave Gull Cottage and be forced to live with her overbearing in-laws, it is Captain Gregg who saves her by helping her to write a best selling novel, Blood and Swash, based on his own seafaring adventures.

Even though the clever dialogue between Captain Gregg and Mrs. Muir is quite dazzling in the novel, the 1947 movie version of The Ghost and Mrs. Muir truly touched my soul. Watching this movie classic with my husband, after planting a few mums and finding the perfect pumpkin for the front step, was a Sunday afternoon delight. Under an October sky, saints, sinners, sea captains and ghosts seem to appear all around us, but it is all part of the season. We are in an October state of mind! For me, the best part of a ghost story is the ending because that is the moment when you face your fear, see the truth, and breathe again. It’s also the best time to lean in and listen to someone’s heart. It’s uncanny how fear, whether real or imagined, seems to bring us closer together! In 2013, John J. Puccio, a movie critic for Movie Metropolis, described The Ghost and Mrs. Muir as “director Joseph L. Mankiewicz’ 1947 postwar love letter to the world.” In Bath, where I always long to be, I know that master story tellers are warming up their voices to whisper ghost stories, and just like the residents of Whitecliff, England, Bath historians know scores of legendary sea captains, and it doesn’t have to be Halloween or All Souls Day for them to tell their stories.

Not unlike Mrs. Muir, a sea captain’s widow used to live in our house on Washington Street in the late 1800’s. Abigail Page Magoun, a native of Bath and the sister of the city’s first mayor, married Captain William Henry Duncan on October 3, 1844. He was 36 years old, and she was 26. The captain was a widower with one son at the time of his marriage to Abigail, and his career as a mariner was going well. Records show that he commanded at least 6 ships in the middle of the nineteenth century. To name a few, he was the captain of the J.P. Harward, built in 1844, the Asia, built in 1855 and the Platina, built in 1838. City records show that Captain Duncan sold a house on South Street, formerly owned by a Patten, a prominent shipbuilding family in Bath, on August 5, 1854 for 1,000 dollars. A city directory shows Abigail Duncan living on Washington Street in 1873. According to ancestry.com, Captain Duncan resided at the same address from 1871 to 1872, the year of his death. Of course, this begs the question, have I felt the presence of the ghost of Captain William Duncan? Truth be told, I do not appear to be spirit sensitive because I have not experienced a single encounter. Perhaps the captain’s ghost could not stay in the Maine house because the master bedroom was built with witches’ corners facing the river so spirits could pass through quickly. With or without friendly ghost corners, I prefer to think of Captain Duncan as a courageous man who was ready to move on toward the morning light. In 1872, Captain Duncan had a clear view of the Kennebec from the master bedroom window, and he could see the sailing ships docked along the river’s bank in the bustling shipyard along Front Street. It’s uplifting to imagine him passing through that bedroom window and sailing away on a white cloud surrounded by a sea of blue sky. Records show that Mrs. Abigail Duncan stayed in the Federal Colonial on Washington Street, near Cedar (now Holly) Street, until 1877. I suspect she was sad when she finally left the house, and just like Mrs. Muir she glanced over her shoulder for one last look before departing. Although I am not spirit sensitive enough to see ghosts, I do feel happy and peaceful in our big, old house. The entrance hall with its turning staircase and exquisitely crafted banister, is my favorite place to stand on a sunny afternoon. In my heart, I believe that every former owner for the last 150 years has stood in that same hall, looked up, and admired the work of the unknown carpenters who built this stately home. There is so much art in the construction of an old house. I certainly understand why Lucy Muir couldn’t bear to leave Gull Cottage!

Around the corner from our house on Washington Street, there’s a cottage worthy of Mrs. Muir, but today it is both the home and studio of Claudette Gamache, a master painter who captures the white cliffs and breaking waves of Popham Beach as well as the wildflowers that frame the Kennebec River with her pastels. I first met Claudette last summer when I was walking my dog, Penny Lane, and our meeting was indeed fortuitous. We were standing near the Galen C. Moses house, one of the most historic inns in Bath, and Claudette told me she once lived in the white house across the street, the one with the striking red door. I was not surprised when she told me she was an artist and was living and painting in the cottage that once served as the office for Arthur Sewall & Company’s shipyard. Clearly, Claudette has an eye for beauty because that little cottage on Front Street is a slice of heaven! At our first meeting, I told Claudette how I was drawn to Bath because of its architectural beauty and its shipbuilding history, and she understood instantly. A few weeks later, I visited Claudette’s gallery and had the pleasure of viewing not only her beautiful paintings, but a collection of old photographs  as well. The photos show the shipyard at the corner of Cedar and Front Street as it was at the turn of the twentieth century. In one of the photos, you can see our house at the top of the hill, and at the bottom of the hill, near the river bank, you can see a sailing ship standing tall in the shipyard. Today, handsome wooden drawers, each bearing the name of a ship built by Sewall, still line the south wall of the cottage. This wall of fame includes the legendary Dirigo, which was torpedoed and lost in 1917 during WWI. While visiting, I also spied a very distinguished portrait of Mr. Arthur Sewall, which reminded me of the portrait of Captain Daniel Gregg (a.k.a. Rex Harrison) in the movie The Ghost and Mrs. Muir! Of course this all begs the question, “Is the cottage on Front Street haunted?” Claudette assured me it was not. In fact, she happens to have a friend who is a shaman, a person believed to have access to the world of good and evil spirits, and the shaman visited the cottage to assess its energy. As fate and Bath would have it, Claudette’s gallery has only bright, positive energy. Thank goodness!

Nevertheless, in October everyone is looking for Casper, the friendly ghost, and according to Claudette, Casper may have a few friends in Bath. On that summer evening when I was viewing Claudette’s gallery for the first time, she told me that when she lived in the white house on Washington Street she felt a presence upstairs where she used to paint. Years before, the Donovan girls, who grew up across the street, had felt a presence in their neighbor's house, too. When Claudette moved in, they asked her if the ghost still resided in the house. Since Claudette was not sure how to answer, she invited her friend, the shaman, to come for a visit, and her friend seemed to connect with a sweet spirit. Apparently, the little girl liked the colors in Claudette’s artwork, and she was very complimentary. In response, the shaman told her gently that it was time to move on, and she listened. What intrigues me most about this story is the fact that the white house is across the street from possibly the oldest copper beech tree in the state of Maine. One of my Bath neighbors told me this spectacular tree was planted in 1871 in remembrance of a young child who had just died. Ironically, copper beech trees are not known for their longevity. The memorial tree on Washington Street has defied gravity and has continued growing for almost 150 years. And that is what we call positive energy!

On one of my daily summer walks down Washington Street, I saw two artists painting the lovely white Federal Colonial with Italianate modifications. They had set up their easels on the street close to the curb, and they both seemed completely absorbed in their work. Sadly, I cannot paint, so I snapped a photo of the artistic process. I could hear a dog barking from inside the house, there was an American flag flying over the door, and although there were no children playing in the yard that day, there was evidence of children. The house was full of life, and the scene was picture perfect. I have no doubt that the two artists shared the same view and captured the happiness. There wasn’t a ghost in sight, but love was all around! In 1968, The Ghost and Mrs. Muir premiered on NBC starring Hope Lange as Mrs. Muir and Edward Mulhare as Captain Gregg. From the movie drama of the 1940’s to the more light hearted television show of the 1960’s, the most significant change was the setting: Whitecliff, England became a fictional fishing village in Schooner Bay, Maine. Could that be Georgetown or Phippsburg? Everything is possible in Bath Time! There may not be ghosts, but there is certainly magic in Maine’s Cool Little City!