This has not been a good year for old family landmarks. Early this Spring, Bob and I were coming home from Freedom through Montville.. We chanced to come by the old tree that Martin Hannan hung his scythe in as he was mowing in the then field for Levi Bartlett on a hot July day in 1862, with his brother Horace and Bartlett’s haying crew.

Martin had been a rugged young man, able to do a good day’s work for a day’s pay. As they mowed in rhythm up to the road, an Army Recruiter happened by, looking for volunteers to sign on to fight in a war that few were aware of until that time.

On that day, Martin Hannan and his brother, Horace, decided to follow the Recruiter to sign on as soldiers in the Union Army, a decision which affected their future and their health for the rest of their lives.

The young maple tree where Martin hung his scythe was a landmark for the people of Montville for over a century.

Many years ago, Elden Rowell asked Bob and I if we would like to see the legacy, left by Martin Hannan, Bob’s great-grandfather. It became a ritual to ride to Montville each Fall to gather a box of colored leaves from the old tree. Just like our old bodies, and our old dog, the tree annually showed signs of age and decay. The piece of the scythe blade that was left became smaller and smaller until one day it was gone.

The leaves were pressed, sometimes dated, and put into a box. I even shellacked some, making greeting cards, including the tale of Martin Hannan and the old tree.

Martin Hannan died in 1904, still the tree stood tall and proud, living on. The legend was perpetuated by myself and others. A short history of Montville, supposedly written by students in the 1940’s said that Martin had died in the Army.

That story was not true. Martin was injured in Dec. 1862 at Bell Plains, Virginia, where he stepped into a hole on uneven ground while carrying a heavy log to build a ‘corduroy’ road. Dr. Billings diagnosed him with a ruptured groin.

In June of 1863, on a march near a place called Dumfries, Va., the day was intensely hot. It was so hot that Martin passed out, and was unconscious for a length of time. When he came to, he crawled under the bushes. Israel Cross, a soldier from Lincolnville, stayed with him until nightfall when he was able to walk. They caught up with an Army hospital wagon. Martin had suffered heat-stroke, the effects of which troubled him for the rest of his life. On another hot day, he was with his company in a battle at Gettysburg, Pa., where he had never seen so many men in one place in his life. As men fell to the left, right, front and back of him, Martin felt the pain of being hit by a shell fragment in his left hip.

Martin Hannan eventually returned to Montville where he married Melinda Herrick. The two of them raised a family of eight children. He was the progenitor of a large number of descendants, many living in the Montville-Liberty area, though many have moved to far-away places.

Occasionally someone would mention to Martin that the tree had grown around his scythe. After his death in 1904, the tales persisted about the scythe in the tree, though it was not the only such tree in the area.

On that Spring day of 2007, Bob and I stopped to visit the old decaying tree. The branch that had held the remains of the scythe had broken off and was laying on the ground. The crotch of the tree had been cut with a modern saw.

I was very sad as we drove away. Several times since the story of the old tree and Martin Hannan came to my mind. I told Bob, who sometimes thinks that I’m nuts anyway, that we should hold a Memorial for the old tree and what it has meant to many over the years.

And while we’re about it, we should give a salute to Martin Hannan, his brothers, and the many veterans who have left family and all to fight for what they believe is right. Not everyone has a legacy and the posterity that Martin Hannan has, to be remembered by. But each and every veteran did what they felt that they were needed to do. May God bless America, and bless our Veterans of all wars.

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