The following short article appeared in the April15, 1897, edition of the RANGELEY LAKES newspaper and shares the sobering tale of perhaps the Region’s most ruthless criminal, David Robbins. This psychopath was a notorious scourge who had committed numerous crimes. We have previously shared in this column, the story briefly mentioned below, about the 5-year-old boy Robbins had abducted and had planned to cut up to bait his traps! Instead, he sold the child to some Native Americans who took pity on him and wanted to save him from his cruel fate. These charitable people raised him as their own and as an adult, he was later reunited with his birth family some 25 years after being abducted from his dooryard! David Robbins, Rangeley’s own axe wielding Perp a la Lizzy Borden, was the sickest criminal I have found record of in all our tranquil history. You will find further evidence of this in the article found on Page 1.
You’ll be chilled by what follows and be sure to make some great ‘Lawful” Rangeley history of your own!
(Contemporary commentary shared in Italics).
A DEMON
The Rangeley Region Infested by Hard Character in Early ’40’s.
Far back in the ’40’s (1840’s) and before the axe had made much progress into the great timber lands of Maine, hunting and trapping was a lucrative calling for those who cared to exile themselves from civilization. A winter’s work would net all the way from $500 to $800 ($17,800 to $28,500 in today’s dollars). Game of all kinds was very plenty, and those who cared to mingle with the wild beasts and run the chances of being devoured, shelter and all, would be assured of a good season’s work. But the dangers of being eaten by wild beasts were not all that laid in the path of the trapper 50 years ago. To be sure, the Indians were plentiful, but they had a peaceful nature and the trapper and redskin (Our apologies for the slur reprinted from 1897) would lay side by side, under the same shelter, and dream of brighter hunting grounds “beyond the swelling flood.”
The terror, of what is now known as the Rangeley region, was in the form of a man by the name of David Robbins, about 40 years of age, with the build of a Hercules, and in all, a powerful man. Robbins was a trapper himself, but if he couldn’t get enough furs that way, he would steal them, and if he couldn’t steal them without committing murder, he would do it. His hand was never known to flinch in the act of committing a crime of that nature and many are the tales that are told of his desperate and cruel deeds.
The notorious David Robbins, was Rangeley’s first and presumed ONLY axe murderer.
A man by the name of Hinds, and his son, of about 15 years of age, were trapping over on what is known as the Cupsuptic region. Their home was in Livermore, but as the winters came around it would find them watching traps for the purpose of securing skins and turning them into cash. The spring’s work was nearly done. The deepening shadows, cast by the setting of our April sun, were lingering in the lap of twilight. Hinds had made all preparations to return home. He knew of the character of Robbins and had been cautioned to be on bis guard. And as Hinds was clearing away the refuse of what proved to be his last meal, he glanced out of his cabin window. What led him to do this he could not tell unless it was the reflection of a passing shadow on the wall. He went to the door, glanced out but could see nothing. He could hear the cracking of the brush and thinking it was some wild animal, the occurrence passed from his mind and he resumed his evening’s work of cleaning up the cabin, putting his traps away and getting ready to start on his journey homeward the following morning. He retired, but he never saw the rising of another sun. His boy went to the stream in the morning for a pail of water and while there, Robbins went into the cabin and drove an axe into the head of Hinds. Robbins ran down to stream and the son, while in the act of dipping up a pail of water, received the same fate and tottered over into the ever-silent stream. Robbins secured their season’ s catch of furs and departed from the scene of the double murder. Several years after while a party were in the location of the Hind’s camp, a pile of birch bark was found and underneath of which was discovered a bundle of clothes, which were afterwards identified as those belonging to the ill-fated Hinds. A button and a piece of the coat are in existence now.
Robbins not only stole from the white men but gave the Indians much trouble and they feared him as they did the evil spirit. He was pursued for a long time, but no one seemed to wont to risk being shot down for the sake of a little notoriety. It is said that Robbins stole a child and his intentions were to kill it and cut it up for sable bait, but he met a party of Indians and sold it to them for a small affair, and thus his would-be fiendish act was nipped in the bud. The early settlers fought shy of this desperate man, who would steal previsions or most anything else that he could lay his hands on to. One day he was going up Cupsuptic stream and coming to the falls, he carried his canoe round and on coming hack for his baggage he was met by a sheriff from Farmington who arrested him then and there.
Several stories are told of his end, either one of which would fall far short of his just deserts. It is said that the Indians captured him, tied him to a tree, filled him with pine knots and set fire to him and away he went up in a cloud of smoke. Another story is that he was hung in Canada. Before the execution took place, on being asked if he had anything to say, he replied, “I would die happy if I could put a bullet through that Farmington sheriff’ s head.” The trap (gallows trap door) was sprung, and the soul of one of the wickedest of men ever departed to its unknown goal.
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