As we continue to celebrate the 250th anniversary of our country’s founding, a look back at a Fourth of July from Dover’s past might be of interest: a time very different from what we experience today, with an odd mixture of events and a different style of reporting. It is the year 1896, 130 years ago. The Fourth is on a Saturday, and being a holiday, there is no newspaper. Then Sunday, and no paper, so the news is two days late. One small headline reports “a quiet weekend,” but a review of the entire issue tells a tale of a fairly busy time. Some entries are clearly news items; others seem closer to gossip passed on from a variety of sources. “A young lad discharging a cannon on Ham St. Saturday blew a stick of wood through John J. Jewell’s bay window.” The window was broken, curtains torn, some furniture damaged. “The boy put in new glass.”

“One arrest scooped in by the police this afternoon.”

“Friday night about nine o’clock Mrs. Twombly, an aged lady, was run into by a thoughtless young man on the sidewalk in front of C.S. Clifford’s Store. She was knocked down and badly injured. The young man didn’t stop. Someone gave her a ride home “in a carriage,” and a doctor was called.

A brief article references the observatory on Garrison Hill: “vandals are mutilating and destroying it … why don’t the authorities take care of the city property?”

“A drunken fellow who attempted to jump on a moving train at the depot would have fallen under the wheels but for the timely action of officer Caverly, who caught him and swung him from the track just as he lost his hold on the step railing.”

More questions than answers: Did the “boy” get charged? What was the name of the “scooped” person? Was “the young man” on foot? On a bicycle? Who was the “drunken fellow” at the depot, and did Caverly get him safely on or off the train? Any arrest there? But I digress …

“This morning officers Stevens and Frye searched the saloon of John Mullen and found beer which they took away with them and notified Mullen to come to the police court and answer to the charge of keeping liquor for sale.” “Yesterday a man who gave his name of Arthur Currier hired a team of J. Frank Seavey for an hour. Up to this morning it had not been returned. They are hunting for it now.” (Seavey was one of Dover’s leading residents, the owner of a livery stable, among other successful business ventures.) “Jane Mack wandered into the police station last night in a drunken condition. She was placed under arrest and made things lively by her noise all night long.” “A giant firecracker thrown into the Chinaman’s laundry window on exploding blew out the glass.” “Special police were sent to have it quiet on Second St. where Miss Johanna Flynn is sick, and on Portland Street, where Capt. A.T. Corcoran is very low.”

And so it was that the weekend ended with a fairly crowded court session on Monday morning. Joseph Linscott, “who had been found drunk yesterday afternoon at Dover Point by officer Smith,” appeared and pleaded not guilty, but to no avail. He was found guilty and fined $8.26, and Joseph Burch and Fred Eli were both assessed a similar amount (about $325 in today’s coin). The aforesaid Jane Mack was sentenced to 30 days in the House of Correction, but the time was suspended upon her continuing good behavior. As characterized by the reporter: “Most arraigned for untimely recovery from the Fourth of July exuberance.” “The seizure case against John Mellen was settled.” (Whatever does that mean? Charges withdrawn? The beer returned? There’s something missing here …)

Also appearing were Mary and John Dyer. “Some time ago,” they had escaped from the County Farm. “Yesterday officer Frye’s eagle eye detected the two in a salubrious condition and locked them up. They will be returned to the county farm.” Apparently, no charge of escape was pursued.

The reason for the “quiet weekend,” mentioned previously, was claimed to be a number of out-of-town events: an Ancient Order of Hibernians picnic in Somersworth, horse races in Rochester and Bow Pond, a bicycle race in Sanford, bicycle and boat races in Portsmouth. “They drew so well from our population that not half of our citizens were ‘at home’ last Saturday afternoon.” But apparently, the night previous there were some things going on: “the insurance people” (whoever they might be) notified police that there must be no fires “within the compact part of the city.” As a result, “all regular officers were notified as well as eight specials.” These officers found “the boys” who had earlier set fires at Sawyers and Forest Street who were “preparing a big fire on Lafayette Square” and stopped it.

It appears, however, that there was an organized event, first mentioned on July 3: “Mammoth Structure of Ties and Barrells Will Illuminate the Skies,” a brief front-page article accompanied by a hand-drawn sketch of a very tall pile of interwoven railroad ties. “The boys of Sawyer’s never do anything by halves and their preparation for a monster bonfire tonight is no exception … when the clock in the steeple strikes 12 and the mighty blaze which will cause the whole of Strafford county to beam with a radiant glow, will proclaim to the people that on independence day one part of Dover at least is on the map.” The follow-up on July 6: “It was estimated that there were fully three thousand persons there and there would have been more had the electric cars been able to accommodate all who wanted to go.” “There were many who celebrated this day by getting full of that stuff that paints the nose red and weakens the knees.” The police — regulars and specials — “pulled in a lot of them but let them go in peace when they had slept off their intoxication.”

One final item, not crime-related, but of great interest to the community. Mrs. Tom Thumb and her company of “Lilliputians” arrived in town on the evening of July 5. “They will be at the park casino every afternoon and evening this week, and will give entertainments at 10 and 20 cents.”