You heard me.
There is a system of beautiful trails, complete with wildlife, wild flowers, frogs, squirrels, dragonflies, vast views of the river, bogs and streams, butterflies, the occasional unleashed dog. ~sigh~
It’s as if Bambi designed this place himself and the whole world is a Disney cartoon. You start to walk (or skip, depending on your mood) down what is called, “Lover’s Lane,” and BAMM!!! You’ve found Murderer’s Cave.
(Insert maniacal laugh here)
Before you get carried away (Only I’m allowed to do that here), no one was murdered here. There’s nothing spooky or spine tingley or even the least bit ‘off’ about this place…except for the striking pain in your knees as you make your way down this cliff and realize how old you are.
Do I regret it?
No.
Do I need physical therapy now?
Yes.
Do I constantly feel like I’m in the beginning of a cheesy 80’s horror film?
Also, yes.
Am I going to get on with the story?
YES!!!
Here we go….
WAAAAAY back in 1883, there was this jovial, charismatic seaman named Daniel Wilkinson who decided just for giggles he would try his hand at being a land lover. He and his buddy John Elliott were going about town, doing what the seafaring young gents of the day did…which, in their case was apparently burglarize. This particular quiet Labor Day weekend (because Labor Day wasn’t a thing back in 1883), a Constable George Kingsley was strolling through town, making his rounds, probably thinking about what he was going to do after his shift, or thinking “if today was a holiday I would be home already.” when he heard a “noise.”
He started out to investigate the “noise” which turned out to be a burglary in progress and showed up just in time to see his fellow co-worker, 63 year old, Constable William Lawrence get shot and killed point blank. Lawrence had been a seaman himself back in his younger years and eventually became a patrolman…the irony.
When visiting Lawrence’s gravesite, I realized his wife was a Daughter of the Revolution and he had two children who died very young at 13 and 11 years old. This poor family. My heart literally hurts.
The resting place of Capt. Lawrence and family
Well. I guess I don’t need to tell you who did it. Wilkinson and Elliot ran away like all cowards do and found themselves in the center of some farm land complete with a cozy little cave for them to hide from the police.
Let’s face it. No one really knows what those two fellas did during the 6 days of their cave dwelling vacation, but I would imagine it would be somewhere along the lines of them arguing and both of them blaming the other for being so stupid. Throw in a few “Now what do we do’s,” or “this is all you’re faults” or “We stick together-I love you, Man!” bromance crap and I feel like that would be pretty accurate.
Some say the local farmer who owned the land helped them, and others suggest they lived off the land and fished in the river while the farmer had no idea they were there. Your guess is as good as mine.
They were eventually found and although it is unclear what happened with Elliot, Wilkinson was tried and found guilty of murder. And do you know what happened to people in the 1800’s when they were convicted murderer’s? Death by hanging.
Wilkinson was hung on November 21, 1885. Making him the last person in the state of Maine to be executed. The reason? Glad you asked….
Wilkinson was the third prisoner in the state who did not instantly die during their hanging. They slowly strangled to death. So in 1887, Maine got rid of the death penalty. I would think the first time would have sprouted some “let rethink this” thoughts in SOMEONE, but that’s just me.
Wilkinson was buried behind the prison after his death with nothing more than a slab of stone and his inmate number, 26951 written on it. Not even a date of birth or death. Just numbers and the word “died” on the stone.
Now, back to this cave.
There are two entrances, which were caused by a sliding upheavel. One is so close to the ground that you have to crawl on your hands and busted up knees to get inside. Also, maybe eat lunch AFTER this exploration. It’s cozy, I’ll give it that, but no way in Hell would I last more than a night. I would at least need an air mattress or something. And maybe some trail mix.
Once you get to the bottom of the hill where you can access the cave, the only way to go is either towards the cave or back up the hill from which you came, or you could also fall to your death. It’s straight down. Straight. Down. But promise me that if one of you out there is dumb enough to teeter on the edge of the cliff and do some half assed “I’m king of the world” crap or that Lion King Scene where everyone thinks they’re hilarious (you’re not, by the way) at least make the Goofy “yaaa-hoooo-hoooo-weeeee!!!” noise on your way down when you slip off.
I am also going to say that this is likely the closest I will ever get to spulunking.
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