Over the river and through the woods … “

That’s a seasonal expression that evokes picturesque images of one-horse open sleighs, but it actually was a way of life 100 years ago.

Today, we wonder how people ever got around before roads were plowed, sanded and salted – and they often did it day and night in horse-drawn carriages through blowing snow.

As I read the pages of my great-grandmother’s diary from the winter of 1896, I realize that all of this was taken for granted. In fact, most people felt they were traveling in the most modern fashion.

In town, there were several livery stables including the R.S. Bradbury stable at the Auburn end of the bridge. There were horse-drawn trolleys that were replaced by the “electric cars” near the end of the century.

We now want our roads cleared immediately after snowstorms, but it was almost the opposite a century ago. A good base of packed snow on the road meant “good sledding,” and the daily diary entries of Dorcas Field emphasized the importance of those conditions.

She wrote on Nov. 21, 1896: “Snowing hard.” The next day she wrote: “Ern (her brother Ernest, who ran a milk route) went on runners today. I went to church in the sleigh. It was nice sleighing.”

And then a thaw came, and she spoke of putting the wheels back on the carriage. As the winter season progressed, the desire was for consistent cold and sufficient snow. In mid-January, she wrote that two inches of snow fell, “not enough to do any good, as the wind blew it all off.”

In another entry, she mentioned a winter sleigh ride to a grange meeting in South Paris. The next day she felt “a bit sore from the ride.”

The most remarkable fact as I read this diary was the frequency of winter trips to town, to friends’ houses and to meetings. My great-grandmother mentions all kinds of jaunts by family members several times a week. Nothing seemed to stop them. They called it “gallivanting.”

There was one particular challenge to getting around Lewiston and Auburn in 1896. On March 2, the raging Androscoggin River took out the bridges between the Twin Cities.

“Ern carried milk across the railroad bridge,” the diary noted the day after the calamity. “He got home at three o’clock. Oh, it is a wild, frightening sight.”

A small ferry was arranged in a few days, and Dorcas wrote, “Ern carried his horse over the river and left him and hauled his milk over in the wagon.”

As if the flood were not enough, the coming week brought “the heaviest snowstorm we have had all winter.” That was good fortune, though, and she noted “fine sleighing” for several days.

The lack of a bridge affected people through the year. It was December before a new North Bridge (at the site of today’s Longley Bridge) was opened. It cost about $146,000, and two-thirds of that was borne by Lewiston. The 600-foot all-steel plate girder structure rested on six granite piers and two abutments.

The Lewiston Journal reported that a Lewiston official, Alderman Wiggin, “stepped forth from the small crowd of dignitaries, and with an ax he proceeded to smash down the bars.”

That led to an impromptu foot race from Auburn to Lewiston by a bridge committee member, O.W. Jones, and a local citizen, Frank A. Chase.

Jones won.

Lewiston Mayor Frank L. Noble said, “I see no reason for speech making. It’s a good bridge and we’re proud of it.”

Dave Sargent is a freelance writer and an Auburn native. You can e-mail him at [email protected].